Wonderment, heavy or otherwise

Yesterday, (Now that would be) Telling opened at A la Ronde in Devon. On my return to this fantastic house I have realised that it has taken complete ownership over everything I have been doing over the last few months as well as everything I foresee coming out of my creative self in the upcoming months. I am obsessed. The architecture of this strange structure and the density and quality of the objects held within are leaving me in a state resembling floatation, mesmerised by wonderment and curiosity. There is indeed more work to be done.

The interview with Saatchi online went public this week http://magazine.saatchionline.com/articles/artnews/behind-the-canvas-with-hayley-lock
which I am told is "good", "revealing" and "epic", so take from it what you will. I have feelings of inner delirium when I hear back my own words, so its hard to analyse from my viewpoint with such things.

This upcoming week is meeting heavy.
I head again to London twice this week to see shows, to transport students and to have a meeting with the curator of the Baring Archive and fellow Wilmorian's to discuss working with their collection. I then move on to Cambridge to have a meeting about a meeting next week with an artist and curator to discuss work we have been working on over the last few months. This then moves on to another meeting about where our projects are in terms of the ROAM collective, who are working on filmic works ideas over the winter months.
Time to clear out my head.

Life certainly is peaches

I am recovering from looking into the eyes of sheer terror more times that I had imagined in a small passing of time this week.

After completing a significant amount of work in my week away whilst supposedly 'resting', the guilt ridden and quite honestly exhausted friend the laptop, mysteriously found itself immersed in a sticky liquid of peach juice one dark and quiet evening probably through overuse on one hand and under use abuse on the other.

With guilt therefore comes shame.

Please now imagine the scenario of being woken from a restful slumber of contentment, by being stared at hard in the face with a fast and tear heavy confessional from an distraughtly engulfed juice thrower, and then (much sooner rather ordinarily expected) having an outer body experience listening to the sounds of the self from a more neanderthal unexpected kind with sounds of gnou and mongolian throat singer wrapped up in choral rhapsody with pain and anguish.

I now diverge.
The next day was spent busying ourselves in an attempt to divert mayhem (and quite possibly a crime scene) that involved travelling across hot deserted plains in taxi's that should have been condemned many times over. That said, a different type of terror passed our eyes at scaring speeds and a sense of heightened danger clearly put everything else in perspective.

We are now home, all is well and the laptop has forgiven us of all our sins.

Magic

The last post was a while ago as I headed into a foray of work, keeping up with all things A La Ronde, research for a new proposal, presentations and talks at Dr Johnsons. With extremely tight deadlines there was very little room for manoeuvre before heading off for a week's rest in Essaouira, Morocco, which is where I am writing from now. I have had a couple of days rest and have now completed a written piece up in the terrace room, an ochre coloured hideaway which has been ideal to get away from the hub bub of daily Moroccan life. This place is rich with trade, colour and boys that say 'hello' at every opportunity. It is refreshing to think that places like this still exist away from the homogenised feel of the UK with its wall to wall failing retail outlets and branding of the most banal kind.
I am completing a couple of last minute things for A La Ronde as well as working on this exciting proposal and it seems fitting with each of these tasks to be researching ideologies of magic, class, travel and race whilst residing for a very short time in a coastal town of foreign origins. This seems like the most appropriate way to get away from the norm although not particularly chosen for those reasons at the outset.
With this in mind I travel back in my mind to 18th century travel and wonder at how it must have felt living and discovering new things amongst foreign locations at such a time. I doubt if things have changed that much.

I move on

We were very lucky to have caught good weather for the PV's of Treasure and Dr Johnson's before what is now a distinctly chilly autumn air outside. I have a list as long as anyone else's arm of things to achieve over the next few days but with teaching over with this week, the rest of my time has been free to put my head down and work.

I have been wrapped up with a group presentation mainly this week, to which I have finally and rather exhaustedly wrestled to the ground. The thought of sitting down and doing it was as ever bigger than actually getting on with it but as I have mentioned before, I like to stick my head in the sand until I HAVE to address things. Whether it's an excuse to not face the inevitable, or whether its the thrill of working right up to the edges of sanity, I have never known, but it is definitely an inherent trait to accumulate black circles under the eyes and a distant persona to boot.

What I do know is that it's stressful and the idea of sleeping under a heavy book is much more attractive yet rarely achieved. I am pulling a few favours and involving others in this one too.

I move on.

Work for A La Ronde is about to properly commence with research started and ideas starting to flow. The writing, as ever is beautiful, and working with a science fiction writer for the first time is particularly exciting. The text is broken down into eight due to the nature of the building and other factors and there are ghostly references throughout as well as nods to black magic and whispering girls. A La Ronde itself is a particular favourite with its upstair shell grotto and Point-In-View chapel that housed girls for a 'decent' education.

I haven't got long as I am slipping away for a well earned rest towards the end of October, so things will need to be together and moving forward quite soon.

(Now that would be) Telling is 3/5's of the way in with three houses opened and two more to go. I will be giving a talk at Dr Johnson's with Hallie Rubenhold on the 20th October to talk about the project, the work and our practices as well as work in the future. It's free, so come along if you can to experience the house, the garret and what we have both been up to.

I am waiting on another couple of things, but cannot reveal them as yet. I will when I can, I promise.

What an odd lot?

I have had a fraught week of meetings, teaching and finishing off trails of titles, photographs and things for the media for the next leg of (Now that would be) Telling at Dr Johnson's House in London as well as complete works for "Treasure', the next chapter of 'The Count of Monte Cristo'. It was a mad dash late of Thursday afternoon that I set off in the heat towards London to deliver the works to both venues. One huge job done.

The next morning was a bus journey to Fleet Street, stopping off to find the printer of the brochure for NTWBT. I was rather relieved in retrospect that we had decided to instal first at Dr Johnson's House early on Friday morning as with the unexpected rise in temperature over the last few days, it meant that by the time I would complete and then wind over to Peckham for the installation of Treasure then most of the work would be done before I melted into a puddle. The pressures of this however took their toll a bit with me as I was in a complete daze mid evening at Treasures opening and showing signs of odd behaviour (I apparently moved a light that was highlighting Mimei's painting and placed it over a triangle of treasure that we had created on the floor over the day. Such an action to my thinking, should have resulted in a big slap from Mimei, but she was thankfully too polite to tell me off). Other fellows like Annabel fainted on Friday which resulted in her not making the PV and later on Alex also had the collywobbles, pre private view, en route to talking at TAP in Southend. What an odd lot? I move on....

Sunday proved to be move relaxed after sleeping in the comatosed shape of a crucifix at Cathy's house on Saturday night. After a day of not eating or drinking enough, I needed the rest. We had a few visitors over the day some of which we knew and some one which we didn't. Alex headed over in the afternoon to keep me safe (apparently) after leaving Annabel to sleep off her exhaustion. We ate biscuits and drank gallons in order to keep our strength up and somehow we managed to find our way home.

Today I have been writing.
Tomorrow is the private view of (Now that would be) Telling, Dr Johnsons.

Blackamoor love triangle

Tonight I am staring at a box which should contain a very expensive print on aluminium for Dr Johnsons House. I hope to open it soon.

All other works for this show are complete, so its cotton gloves on and tweezers to collage this last yet major piece up to complete the works for this show. I have been looking at Blackamoor jewelry for this leg of the project, inspired by Dr Johnson's servant and heir Francis Barber. Exotic and mysterious Blackamoor jewelry was a sought after and expensive addition to the collections of the rich in the 19th century. Believed to hold protective powers guarding against evil spirits, this is particularly relevant to the written works and research for this House and its inhabitants. The rest of the pieces I have made are small personal artefacts and tokens for what can only be described as historical evidence of an unexpected love triangle for Francis Barber, his wife and a mysterious link from his past.
I hope to own a piece of Blackamoor jewelry one day.

This week I went to see the Jerwood Drawing Prize as well as scoot around the Modern for things I may have overlooked before. The Jerwood Drawing prize I particularly enjoyed for its seemingly celebratory attempt at representing all types of contemporary drawing with an eclectic mix of obsessional approaches to the miniscule, repetitive gestures of mark making and the sharing of an idea. It was fab.
The Modern, I skipped through all floors, looking at new artists photography, the work of Diane Arbus and some surrealist pieces that I hadn't seen before in painting form and sculptural form. I also liked the Dark Humour room, with pieces by Louise Bourgeois and the Chapman brothers to name two that I had overlooked before. It all made me want to run away, get in the studio and paint for the first time in a few years, but sadly I dont have the time right now. Maybe one for later eh?

Today I had a mini meeting with the local Art School which was fruitful in terms of setting up what I hope is an interesting proposal for my students this year. I am finding it so hard to work in a building that makes me feel ill (distinct lack of air and far too many artificial lighting units), so I am trying to find positive ways of working elsewhere. The student experience this year has been slashed even further with very few hours to teach very little, so I am desperately trying to get new ideas off the ground in an attempt to be positive, with networking opportunities for them as well as open their eyes to what is around them. To kick this off I have been asked to donate an object to stimulate ideas of cultural exchange, communication and display. I think I am going to make something, as I am currently making a lot of new work that is on the edges of what an object is or can be.

This week I need to get a move on with making works for Wilmore House's next show, 'Treasure' which opens at Asylum. These are going to be drawings that reflect the works of the others that are showing in the space. We are also going to work on mini residencies over the next weekend to attempt to respond to the space. And so, back to that unopened box.....

Post Folkestone Nautilus

Folkestone has been fun. As well as showing at the B & B space, we also managed to run around and see quite a few things too. Particular favourites for me were Martin Creeds sound piece 'Work No. 1196' in the beautifully preserved victorian Leas Lift which made me, in all its simplicity, smile. Olivia Plender's work in the Masonic Hall titled 'Are Dreams Hallucinations During Sleep or Hallucinations Waking' was particularly enjoyable for its layered content, layered context, 'props' and in depth research that ticked all my interests in secret societies and interesting historical characters. And lastly Charles Avery's 'Sea Monster' viewed lying decomposed on the floor made from a multitude of other animals skin, skeletons and bodily traces surrounded by drawn works that outlined geographies in his imaginary island placed in the library, a seemingly appropriate setting for the geneology of his chosen subjects.

'The Unknown', the next chapter of the Count of Monte Cristo, was made up of showing work from each artist on rotation, every hour and a half, to create a revolving show made up of many parts. Running over two days was a good length of time to get everything seen in what was effectively a shop window. We each chose a character to work with, either one from reality or one from our imagination, that relayed part of the story from the book in some imaginative form.

Altogether, we created portraits, text pieces, objects and prints of unknown voyages, discoveries and adventures past. At the same time we tweeted, plotted, mapped and discussed our next voyage 'Treasure' which will be seen at Asylum, off the Old Kent Road in two weeks time in London.