ravenscar micro-residency pilot: research log – reflection on indeterminacy

During the pilot, Fritha and I spoke at length about the intriguing story of Ravenscar and the possibilities that could be built upon the story. Following our time at the visitors centre, we learned that although the Ravenscar Development company went into administration in 1913, plots continued to be sold until the 1950s. This has created a narrative of wondering whether or not the Ravenscar development was ever intended for completion, or was in fact a huge scam.

We also talked about the possibility of placing work made within the residency into the walking tour of Ravenscar which the National Trust are currently promoting. We talked about using technology, to geocache art at points of the walk, as they were made, and making the presence of this work known through very subtle and unobtrusive means, so the work would not be official.

Immersion in the site and its partial history created question after question for Fritha, and this served to provide a wealth of material for future projects (Jenkins, 2019).

Following the initial pilot, I have thought at length about how to balance the engagement of audiences within a project which has indeterminacy as a characteristic. This led me to think about the original approach of a live-work bothy as the base. Fritha’s practice required being out in the site rather than in a studio, and for much of the residency, the studio would have been unnecessary.

Instead of a studio space as a construct, it would be perhaps more fitting to build a social hub, which would be open to the public to come and see what was taking place, and perhaps a curatorial tour/insight into what was going on.

As I plan to work with Fritha again in the next iteration, and have already submitted a Project Grants application to this effect (which will be resubmitted if unsuccessful). Reutilising Fritha’s approach from Aggregate: Fritha Jenkins & Edna Lumb (2018), would also be a way of engaging the audience with Fritha, as having an understanding that some time would be spent at the central hub (perhaps a communal kitchen would be a potential starting point – mealtimes becoming then social time) could balance the need for indeterminacy as a characteristic of the residency.

 


Bibliography

Aggregate, Fritha Jenkins & Edna Lumb (2018) [Exhibition] Leeds Arts University, 13 February -29 March 2018

Jenkins, F. (2019), in conversation with S.Hansom, June 12-17

jorma puranen – imaginary homecoming (1999) pt 2.

My understanding of the northern landscape was much improved by many long and illuminating discussions with local people…These conversations on landscape, history and photography represent one of the starting points from which the project sets out. Indeed subtle visual perceptions and inferences represent a crucial source of information in the Sami world. However, transforming the resulting information into comprehensible visual form finally entails spending time in the landscape: letting one’s eyes linger in the distance, in the wind and the rain; among the sounds of the animals. As Simon Schama writes, to experience ‘a sense of place’ we must above all use ‘the archive of the feet’.

– Puranen, (1999)

The initial point of this extract from this essay (for context read the first part of this spliced post HERE) links strongly with my proposed Ravenscar micro-residency pilot. One key outcome I aim to achieve with the project is a discussion between past and present and future, artists and landscape, artists and ‘non-artists’, locals and visitors, history and geography.

For a project sited on a National Trust property, engaging visitors with the history through contemporary art, may be a way to bring out the story of Ravenscar and share it in a thought provoking way, and create something for the future.

To be continued (again)…


Bibliography

Puranen, J. (1999), ‘Imaginary Homecoming’, in Evans, D. Appropriation, London, WHitechapel Gallery & MIT Press, pp.135-136

a quick wordpress tutorial

As I’ve really enjoyed the use of WordPress as the method of delivering my reflective and curatorial journal as part of my studies, I was asked to give a short walk-through of the features and give an overview of how I use this tool to create the ongoing documentation of my studies to my peers, who were obviously thrilled…

 

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live from a process

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When is an exhibition not an exhibition? When it is an install over the duration of the exhibition? When the hang is part of the exhibition? When some of the activity within the exhibition takes place outside of the exhibition space?

None of these are answers to the question, but phrased correctly, are more questions. This collaboration between Fritha Jenkins and Catriona McAra raises many interesting questions and hangs them in the air alongside the work of Edna Lumb.

Labour, production, work, product and process are all relevant to this artistic event.


Bibliography

Aggregate, Fritha Jenkins & Edna Lumb (2018) [Exhibition] Leeds Arts University, 13 February -29 March 2018

((RE)SOUND IN REFLECTION IN REVISION

On the 7th of December 2017, the Studio Theatre Gallery at Leeds Arts University was host to the exhibition opening of ((RE)SOUND). The exhibition was by the initial intake of students on the newly offered Curation Practices master’s degree course to which I belong.

For us, there was a degree of being thrown in at the deep end. As students beginning our study of curation, how could we be ready at this early stage to produce a relatively high profile (within the bounds of the University) exhibition and be introduced to the University at large?

And how was it possible to get from a group of strangers within a bigger group of strangers, to a coherent and successful exhibition within a prominent arts institution?

Each student had been invited to propose a brief for the exhibition and from kernels extracted from these diverse responses, a final distillation was negotiated and circulated. The submitted work covered a variety of media, which was then judged against the brief, moving the students towards a coherent body of work. With pragmatism very much at the fore, one of the stronger proposal was not included due to space and accessibility constraints.

Once the selection had been finalised, and the shortlisted artists contacted to submit their pieces, we were able to plan for and tackle the install and promotion work. As a diverse group we were able to divide the work across specialties and chosen areas of interest. Communication key to meeting the deadline of the exhibition opening, which was quickly upon us.


 

From somewhere within the main space, what sounds like ageing machinery clunks and whirrs. This is Matt Parker’s W.I.T.C.H. (2015), a sound piece created from field recordings made at the National Museum of Computing at Bletchley Park, the only piece included by an artist otherwise unconnected to the university.

Paula Hickey’s intricate marblings of ink in water, Floating Traces (2017), are a response to a choral performance translated into visual works. I had come across Paula Hickey’s work when she had given a talk at the University prior to the open call going out. I found the work and the underlying process particularly fascinating and the audio, which inspired the pieces would be available for the exhibition, making a very compelling case for inclusion.

The case for W.I.T.C.H. was more subjective. I had become transfixed upon hearing the piece on the radio during the period we were selecting successful work from the submissions and it chimed with some of the narrative around white noise, which appeared in the accompanying documentation of Bex Hayne’s Untitled and Gemma Wood’s Human. As the curator that championed this piece, I justify the inclusion of Matt Parker’s work as the sound of the future (from the past) while the specific pieces it accompanies converse in a language of the present.

In proposing W.I.T.C.H. and Floating Traces, I had broken from the selection process we had agreed as a group and would have to negotiate their inclusion. It was my feeling however that these pieces would augment our exhibition.

The seascape theme present in Rachel Sedman’s Nightwatch reverberates with Simon Ellwood’s sculpture Ocean’s Echo. The sound booth, looming on the upper floor is pulled into the space in this exchange with sculpture. The diminutive obelisk has the effect of somehow chairing the discussions around the exhibition, opening up the dialogue between Hayne’s Untitled and Human and opening up the floor to the work of Hickey and Garry Barker’s asemic roadsign. There is a coherence, both in the monotone colour scheme pervading the sound and visual works.

As if representative of the visual disconnect, Ingrid Bale’s Exodus and Genesis (2017) and Joanna Wilkinson’s Untitled (2017) are segregated in a side corridor. Bale’s piece was included as it addressed the brief from a very current perspective, thus engaging with the world outside of an arts institution. However Exodus and Genesis relied on Wilkinson’s work, arguably the least coherent inclusion in the exhibition, in order to have a dialogue and therefore a voice in this exhibition. Perhaps this discussion should perhaps have taken place at a different gathering.

 

The conversation between the pieces started to materialise upon the install of the exhibition. Negotiated as a group, but also with the input of expertise from the University’s curatorial team, a plan was agreed for the install, which represented how the exhibition would look but could not translate the feeling of the installed exhibition and the effect it would impart.

This sudden realisation of the layers of meaning which appeared at the point of realising the exhibition have caused me to question, did the physical object stir something within my brain to establish these interwoven meanings, or did the germ of meaning originate in the process and physical act of installing ((RE)SOUND) ?

 


Bibliography

Crawshaw, G. Dwyer, L. Hansom, S. Hayne, B. Perriman, W. (2017) ((RE))SOUND), [Exhibition], Leeds Arts University, Leeds, 7 November

((RE)SOUND in reflection

On the 7th of December 2017, the Studio Theatre Gallery at Leeds Arts University was host to the exhibition opening of ((RE)SOUND). The exhibition has been curated by the initial intake of students on the newly offered Curation Practices master’s degree course to which I belong. Ten works have been selected, covering a range of media and originating almost exclusively from across the University’s different courses.

The exhibition appears designed as an introduction, for the bright eyed, new MA students to the University (and each other); and to announce the course to the University as a whole. For us, there was a degree of being thrown in at the deep end. As students beginning our study of curation, how could we be ready at this early stage to produce a relatively high profile (within the bounds of the University) exhibition?

So how was it possible to get from a group of strangers within a bigger group of strangers, to a coherent and successful exhibition within a prominent arts institution?

Amongst the project management tasks, key curatorial questions needed to be answered, or were perhaps guided by circumstance. Givens, such as being new to the university and taking our first steps in the field of curation, meant that we did not have an extensive network of students. The time pressures around the need to have works available for the exhibition, would lead to the decision to circulate an open call only to University staff and students (with two exceptions discussed below).

Each student was invited to propose a brief for the exhibition and from kernels extracted from these diverse responses, a final distillation was negotiated and circulated. The submitted work covered a variety of media, which then had to be judged against the brief as well as fitting into a coherent body of work. Practical considerations also had to be considered, reject the most professional looking submission

Once the selection had been finalised, and the shortlisted artists contacted to submit their pieces we were able to plan for and tackle the install and promotion work. As a diverse group we were able to divide the work across specialties and chosen areas of interest, with communication key to the success of meeting the deadline of the exhibition opening, which was quickly upon us.


 

From somewhere within the main space, what sounds like ageing machinery clunks and whirrs, this in turn seems to elicit a response from the vending machines in the corner (a fixed feature of the space rather than an exhibit), which whirr and hum in reply. This is Matt Parker’s W.I.T.C.H. (2015), a sound piece created from field recordings of the Wolverhampton Instrument for Teaching Computing from Harwell, made at the National Museum of Computing at Bletchley Park and the only piece included by an artist otherwise unconnected to the university.

The audio is primarily layered over the work of Bex Hayne (Untitled, 2017) and Gemma Wood (Human, 2017), two prints locked in close conversation. Both are monochrome prints and both reflect physical responses to the sound of the contemporary world.

Paula Hickey’s beautiful and delicate marbling of inks in water, Floating Traces (2017),  are a response to a choral performance translated into visual works. As alumna of the University’s MA in Creative Practice (again selected and put forward to the exhibition by me), I was required to justify the inclusion of the work to my peers, negotiating successfully with a majority.

In putting forwards W.I.T.C.H. and Floating Traces, I had broken from the means we had agreed as a group so understandably there was some hesitation around including these pieces. It was my feeling however that these pieces would augment our exhibition. I had come across Paula Hickey’s work when she had given a talk at the University prior to the open call being circulated, I found the work and the underlying process particularly fascinating and the audio which inspired the pieces would be available for the exhibition, making a very compelling case for inclusion. Also, as a very recent alumna of the University, timing seemed to be a very cruel reason to exclude the pieces.

The case for W.I.T.C.H. was much more subjective, I had become transfixed upon hearing the piece on the radio. This occurred in the period we were selecting successful work from the submissions and it chimed with some of the narrative around white noise which appeared in the accompanying documentation of Hayne’s Untitled and Wood’s Human. As the curator that championed this piece, I justify the inclusion of Matt Parker’s work as the sound of the future (from the past) while the specific pieces it accompanies converse in a language of the present.

Chance would present only one sound-only piece submitted through the open call, Rachel Sedman’s Nightwatch (2017) answered the brief, the artists voice whispering in the hushed tones enforced upon her while talking around her sleeping children at night. Speaking to the themes of language, place and time, this piece made practical decisions around what to include in the single available soundbooth very simple, although this should in no way detract from how well the piece worked in the ‘enclosure’ of a soundbooth with the sound washing up the insides of the space, as if filling and up and warming a bath.

The aqueous theme present in Nightwatch reverberates with Simon Ellwood’s sculpture Ocean’s Echo. The soundbooth which looms over the main space is pulled into the space in this exchange with sculpture, which has the affect of somehow chairing the discussions around the space. Both Hayne’s Untitled, breaking off from it’s dialogue with Human and opening up the floor to the work of Hickey and Garry Barker’s asemic roadsign. There is a feeling of space, but also coherence, both in the monotone colour-scheme that pervades the sounds as well as the visual works.

As if representative of the disconnect visually, Ingrid Bale’s Exodus and Genesis (2017) and Joanna Wilkinson’s Untitled (2017) are segregated in a side corridor. Bale’s piece was included on the grounds of approaching key themes in the brief from a very current perspective which is relevant beyond the walls of an arts institution. Exodus and Genesis needed Wilkinson’s work, which was arguably the least coherent inclusion in the exhibition, in order to have a dialogue and thus a voice in this exhibition. Perhaps this discussion should perhaps have taken place at a different gathering.

The conversation between the pieces started to feel material upon the install of the exhibition. Negotiated as a group, but also with the input of expertise from the University’s curatorial team, a plan was agreed upon for the install which represented how the exhibition would look but could not translate the feeling of the installed exhibition and the effect it would impart.

This sudden realisation of the layers of meaning which appeared at the point of realising the exhibition have caused me to question, did the physical object stir something within my brain to establish these interwoven meanings, or did the germ of meaning originate in the process and physical act of installing ((RE)SOUND) ?

 


Bibliography

Crawshaw, G. Dwyer, L. Hansom, S. Hayne, B. Perriman, W. (2017) ((RE))SOUND), [Exhibition], Leeds Arts University, Leeds, 7 November

 

((RE)SOUND) in review

On the 7th of December 2017, the Studio Theatre Gallery at Leeds Arts University was host to the exhibition opening of ((RE)SOUND). The exhibition has been curated by the initial intake of students on the newly offered Curation Practices master’s degree course. Ten works have been selected, covering a range of media and originating almost exclusively from across the University’s different courses.

In a soundbooth above the main space, Rachel Sedman’s Nightwatch envelops the listener in a sanctuary, over ticking clocks and the sound of the sea, the artists voice whispers in the tones enforced upon her talking around her sleeping children at night. The sound washes up the insides of the enclosed space, as if filling up a bath.

An aquatic theme is also present in Simon Ellwood’s sculpture Ocean’s Echo, a shimmering steel sculpture petrifying soundwaves into a solid physical form. Standing away from other exhibits, and viewed in isolation this piece seems like a fulcrum, somehow chairing the discussions around the space. The imposition of WITCH makes this piece radiate a somehow ominous energy, perhaps lending this authoritarian voice to the sculpture beyond its otherwise unimposing size.

From somewhere within the main space, what sounds like ageing machinery clunks and whirrs, this in turn seems to elicit a response from the vending machines in the corner (a fixed feature of the space rather than an exhibit), who whirr and hum in reply. This is Matt Parker’s WITCH 2015, a sound piece created from field recordings of the Wolverhampton Instrument for Teaching Computing from Harwell, made at the National Museum of Computing at Bletchley Park and the only piece included by an artist otherwise unconnected to the university.

The audio is primarily layered over the work of Bex Hayne (Untitled, 2017) and Gemma Wood (Human, 2017), two prints locked in close conversation. Both are monochrome prints and both reflect physical responses to the sound of the contemporary world. Where Matt Parker’s work is the sound of the future (from the past), these pieces converse with a sound of the present.

University alumna Paula Hickey’s beautiful and delicate marbling of inks in water, Floating Traces (2017),  are a response to a choral performance which is provided on headphones, allowing the audience to hear the music which has been translated into visual pieces. Hickey’s process involves selecting the qualities of the materials evocative of the subject matter, in this case the performance itself.

BA Fine Art Lecturer Garry Barker has painted A sign of the time (2017) an asemic sign for the exhibition, playfully removing useful wording from a signpost or a billboard, as if the exhibition has transported the audience to a foreign land with an unfamiliar alphabet.

Suspended above this space is a wire frame sculpture, a second piece by Wood. It is called Gasping (2017), and in this context the title is suggestive of how this delicate wire sculpture is drowning in the space. From various vantage points, whether below or from the upper level, this piece struggles to be visible in free space. When framed from the lift, the sculpture floats against a plain white wall as if achieving buoyancy.

The exhibition continues in a corridor from the main space on the floor below. Like a separate conversation going on in the kitchen at a party, the nature of this work is textile, is boldly colourful. perhaps asks questions of the place of craft in art.

Ingrid Bale’s Exodus and Genesis (2017) introduces the very present topic of the migrant crisis to the exhibition, presenting a dialogue with the world outside of the university but has a very fractious dialogue with the pieces in the main space. Without Joanna Wilkinson’s Untitled (2017) which deals with music and memory, Bale’s piece would be a solitary voice. There is an argument that this discussion should perhaps have taken place at a different gathering.

Within the short period of time these students have had to engage with their chosen discipline, this exhibition is a fair representation of their immediate progress. This did not appear as a ‘student’ exhibition and was in keeping with the quality demonstrated within shows at the university. The issues of display and selection are certainly fair for a group of students only three months into their studies and they should be happy with this resounding success.


Bibliography

Crawshaw, G. Dwyer, L. Hansom, S. Hayne, B. Perriman, W. (2017) ((RE))SOUND), [Exhibition], Leeds Arts University, Leeds, 7 November

 

install reflections

One unforeseen benefit of working on the install was the opportunity to work alongside the University Curation team. While having the opportunity to see first hand the different skills utilised on an install, and revisit some of the skills I had employed on placement at The Art House, it was also a good opportunity to talk about the works, and about similar pieces out in the world.

 

little install decisions

It occurs to me, a week after the launch while waiting for a metal-bodied MP3 player to get back up to room temperature after walking into University through the cold, that some key decisions taken on ((RE)SOUND) were at the time seemingly innocuous.

The chairs we selected to place in the soundbooth to allow people to sit and listen to Rachel Sedman’s Nightwatch feel fitting for the work. Chosen over a bench, or institutional looking plastic chairs, these two chairs look smart and are comfortable enough to dwell and engage with the work. They also make the audience size self-regulating.

They add to the womb-like sense within the soundbooth and allow a person to really focus on the work.

time demands

As a part-time student, I have at times had a tough time balancing the amount of time I would like to devote to my studies with the demands of my work. I have not had the freedom I would ideally like, especially during the day times as I am required to be in the office at these times as the project lead for a live NHS system.

What this meant that during the week of the install, I was not able to be on site as much as possible so therefore could not make the reactive decisions (such as around the fixture for the hanging sculpture) that ideally I consider part of the install process.

That said. Much of the install was successful, with very few issues to address.