Monday, 22 March 2010
Saturday, 20 March 2010
The Shadow
After a bit of a rant on my last post, I feel I should be more positive, and to get excited about what I have going on, instead of letting myself become bogged down with negatives. It is not productive and it doesn't make me feel any better.
I started this piece of writing, about shadows and my interest in them, about 4 weeks ago, and didn’t get round to posting it, or finishing it. So this is just me revisiting something I left alone which is often quite a useful exercise...
I am interested in shape shifting, an image that appears to mean one thing, continues to change and becomes another entirely.
I am interested in uncertainty.
Shadow: the effect of light on an object, shadow as a mythical or demonised other, shadow as a reflection of the self. A shadow indeterminate. A shadow that is not tangible, a magical shadow that can disappear entirely. A shadow like a murky spot on the brain at the edge of peripheral sight. A shape shifter.
Throughout the performance the female changes from her natural self, to shadow version of herself, at times to a large monstrous shadow and sometimes she is so faint an outline she is barely present. When communicating with the male character we never see her face.
The Shadow for me represents both the male and female characters and is a symbol of other but also of the self. Throughout art history shadows have been a representation of both these opposing readings, a realistic mirror of one’s self, but also as an other, a faceless stranger and often something demonic. The ambiguity of the shadow is interesting. For me a shadow is often an uncomfortable reminder of your present self and I think the Shadow in Silica represents both this and a less literal shadow (not created by light) but a real faceless other, that changes and alters throughout.
he shadow in the show can be read as a reflection of the man. It is the visual manifestation of his changing perceptions of the world; it is a symptom of his memory erosion, a loosing of the whole sense of someone and of himself. It at times symbolises a demonic and unbeatable presence in his mind at other times it appears helpless like a child. At times it is confusing as to whether this shadow is the woman, or his own reflection, I think she appears as part of him, he recognises her as part of his own self.
I am interested in this notion of facelessness as I am interested in the reality of eventually not recognising one’s own face and forgetting the faces of those we love that have died. I believe that there is no form of `recording' a realistic representation of a person, though film, through photographs or the recorded voice, as there is always an integral quality of that person missing. A smile in a photograph can make me in turn smile as I try to recall a departed loved ones laugh or voice, but we are left short. Even in a film of that person, you cannot feel the warmth of them, the smell of their surroundings, the true texture of their voice.
Voices are also central to the piece. The reason the two performers communicate (or appear to communicate) only through live and recorded voice (never live and live or recorded and recorded) is to illustrate a lack of communication but also the failure of technology to record and replicate experiences accurately. As the memory of a person fades it becomes physically more difficult to have a memorable conversation with them. And with memory we can recall conversations in our minds, but there is always this unattainablity of the wholeness of an experience that we are faced with.
I think I am trying to explore with the Shadow is that this ideal of a whole does not exist. We are not concrete; we are altered by everything we experience over time. This notion of whole is perhaps something the brain helps us to believe, a survival instinct so that we feel safe and comfortable in our skins: I truly know that person, I feel like myself when I am by the sea.
Once we undergo big changes in our lives, for example we loose someone close to us, we start to search for ways to hold onto our relationship to them, ways to keep them present and whole in order to still recognise and understand our own place in the world. I don't cope well with change, because it reminds me actually how fluid everything is, how nothing is fixed, even our feelings about ourselves. This can be both terrifying and invigorating.
In reality we are we many different versions of ourselves, I am not now who I was just one year ago and I will continue to shape shift, and adapt to time. Like the shadow the body is a site onto which many readings can be written, a body that can be weak, small and other times strong, one that will eventually disappear entirely.
The shadow does not represent a constrained image but perhaps a free more magical imitation of ourselves, one with endless interpretations. So going back to the piece, the shadow is not male or female, it is never exclusively one or the other, but an image of change and of uncertainty.
I started this piece of writing, about shadows and my interest in them, about 4 weeks ago, and didn’t get round to posting it, or finishing it. So this is just me revisiting something I left alone which is often quite a useful exercise...
I am interested in shape shifting, an image that appears to mean one thing, continues to change and becomes another entirely.
I am interested in uncertainty.
Shadow: the effect of light on an object, shadow as a mythical or demonised other, shadow as a reflection of the self. A shadow indeterminate. A shadow that is not tangible, a magical shadow that can disappear entirely. A shadow like a murky spot on the brain at the edge of peripheral sight. A shape shifter.
Throughout the performance the female changes from her natural self, to shadow version of herself, at times to a large monstrous shadow and sometimes she is so faint an outline she is barely present. When communicating with the male character we never see her face.
The Shadow for me represents both the male and female characters and is a symbol of other but also of the self. Throughout art history shadows have been a representation of both these opposing readings, a realistic mirror of one’s self, but also as an other, a faceless stranger and often something demonic. The ambiguity of the shadow is interesting. For me a shadow is often an uncomfortable reminder of your present self and I think the Shadow in Silica represents both this and a less literal shadow (not created by light) but a real faceless other, that changes and alters throughout.
he shadow in the show can be read as a reflection of the man. It is the visual manifestation of his changing perceptions of the world; it is a symptom of his memory erosion, a loosing of the whole sense of someone and of himself. It at times symbolises a demonic and unbeatable presence in his mind at other times it appears helpless like a child. At times it is confusing as to whether this shadow is the woman, or his own reflection, I think she appears as part of him, he recognises her as part of his own self.
I am interested in this notion of facelessness as I am interested in the reality of eventually not recognising one’s own face and forgetting the faces of those we love that have died. I believe that there is no form of `recording' a realistic representation of a person, though film, through photographs or the recorded voice, as there is always an integral quality of that person missing. A smile in a photograph can make me in turn smile as I try to recall a departed loved ones laugh or voice, but we are left short. Even in a film of that person, you cannot feel the warmth of them, the smell of their surroundings, the true texture of their voice.
Voices are also central to the piece. The reason the two performers communicate (or appear to communicate) only through live and recorded voice (never live and live or recorded and recorded) is to illustrate a lack of communication but also the failure of technology to record and replicate experiences accurately. As the memory of a person fades it becomes physically more difficult to have a memorable conversation with them. And with memory we can recall conversations in our minds, but there is always this unattainablity of the wholeness of an experience that we are faced with.
I think I am trying to explore with the Shadow is that this ideal of a whole does not exist. We are not concrete; we are altered by everything we experience over time. This notion of whole is perhaps something the brain helps us to believe, a survival instinct so that we feel safe and comfortable in our skins: I truly know that person, I feel like myself when I am by the sea.
Once we undergo big changes in our lives, for example we loose someone close to us, we start to search for ways to hold onto our relationship to them, ways to keep them present and whole in order to still recognise and understand our own place in the world. I don't cope well with change, because it reminds me actually how fluid everything is, how nothing is fixed, even our feelings about ourselves. This can be both terrifying and invigorating.
In reality we are we many different versions of ourselves, I am not now who I was just one year ago and I will continue to shape shift, and adapt to time. Like the shadow the body is a site onto which many readings can be written, a body that can be weak, small and other times strong, one that will eventually disappear entirely.
The shadow does not represent a constrained image but perhaps a free more magical imitation of ourselves, one with endless interpretations. So going back to the piece, the shadow is not male or female, it is never exclusively one or the other, but an image of change and of uncertainty.
Wednesday, 10 March 2010
not a real job.
Trying to keep your head above water when your main income comes from your practice is something that was always going to be difficult. And when your partner also works in the same industry and both are in the same annoying period of the year where bills are coming in and the car needs an MOT and work doesn’t fully kick off for either of you for a few months, getting by is near impossible.
Why not temp? Yes why not? And I will have to, but I started to think about the amount of time I would loose from developing my work if I had a second job and it would at least half my productivity. I can barely keep on top of emails, funding applications and then of course the making now, It terrifies me that because of money my practice is going to suffer.
Most people reach a certain age (if they have no savings or do not come from a moneyed family) and realise that this is one of most poorly paid industries out there and out of necessity compromise their practice and do something more formulated that pays better.. Or pays full stop. For artists in my financial position there is a realisation that I may not ever be able to afford a home, children or even a pet, I have to make a choice... and it is a big risk. I worked almost continuously last year and still struggled. So how does it get any easier? maybe it doesn't, perhaps I just get used to it.
I believe passionately that art is valuable, crucial and present. It is not just someting necessary to my own survival, but vital in society whether as something political, expressive, beautiful or entertaining. But unfortunately it is not valued enough, not even by those who create it. We work in an industry that thrives off the "volunteer", the "training" and the "apprenticeship" and it is crippling. No wonder young people struggle to get into the industry when this acceptance and trend of unsubsidised work exists. Do enough work for free and you will get a paid position, unfortunately those who already get paid for their work are applying for those same jobs, so what hope have the volunteers got. A friend of mine, a talented artist, has worked in unpaid or barely paid positions in galleries and art publications for it must be three years now... none of them leading to jobs or recognition. He has recently set up his own publication and already has new commissions.
So perhaps this is the answer, to make your own opportunities... which I actually on the most part agree with. I do not expect anyone to hand me amazing opportunities, I work hard for what I want, but I need the time (an increasingly the space) to do it, and I do not come from rich parents who can support me in these years of my early career, and I know plenty others in the same position.
The system needs shaking up. What if all the yearly bonus's of the artistic directors of all the corporate theatres in the country went into one big pot and funded young artists in the early stages of their careers. Not providing them with a huge salary but a salary all the same, just enough so that perhaps they only work the one job for a little while and have the extra money to go to watch work and meet people and talk about art and the time to fully realise their ideas. Perhaps there would be more diversity in the arts or perhaps it would still be the same people applying for that pot, and equally as competitive, either way i'd like something to change.
Why not temp? Yes why not? And I will have to, but I started to think about the amount of time I would loose from developing my work if I had a second job and it would at least half my productivity. I can barely keep on top of emails, funding applications and then of course the making now, It terrifies me that because of money my practice is going to suffer.
Most people reach a certain age (if they have no savings or do not come from a moneyed family) and realise that this is one of most poorly paid industries out there and out of necessity compromise their practice and do something more formulated that pays better.. Or pays full stop. For artists in my financial position there is a realisation that I may not ever be able to afford a home, children or even a pet, I have to make a choice... and it is a big risk. I worked almost continuously last year and still struggled. So how does it get any easier? maybe it doesn't, perhaps I just get used to it.
I believe passionately that art is valuable, crucial and present. It is not just someting necessary to my own survival, but vital in society whether as something political, expressive, beautiful or entertaining. But unfortunately it is not valued enough, not even by those who create it. We work in an industry that thrives off the "volunteer", the "training" and the "apprenticeship" and it is crippling. No wonder young people struggle to get into the industry when this acceptance and trend of unsubsidised work exists. Do enough work for free and you will get a paid position, unfortunately those who already get paid for their work are applying for those same jobs, so what hope have the volunteers got. A friend of mine, a talented artist, has worked in unpaid or barely paid positions in galleries and art publications for it must be three years now... none of them leading to jobs or recognition. He has recently set up his own publication and already has new commissions.
So perhaps this is the answer, to make your own opportunities... which I actually on the most part agree with. I do not expect anyone to hand me amazing opportunities, I work hard for what I want, but I need the time (an increasingly the space) to do it, and I do not come from rich parents who can support me in these years of my early career, and I know plenty others in the same position.
The system needs shaking up. What if all the yearly bonus's of the artistic directors of all the corporate theatres in the country went into one big pot and funded young artists in the early stages of their careers. Not providing them with a huge salary but a salary all the same, just enough so that perhaps they only work the one job for a little while and have the extra money to go to watch work and meet people and talk about art and the time to fully realise their ideas. Perhaps there would be more diversity in the arts or perhaps it would still be the same people applying for that pot, and equally as competitive, either way i'd like something to change.
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