FLEA

I've got an interview - actually I have two, one for an art opportunity (again) and one for a lecturing post at Norwich. I am wondering about having another haircut. I am thinking there must be an ideal hair length at which you become irresistible to employers.

At the same time Annabel and I are just about ready to open our project space. This has been quite a well kept secret as it has taken me about 18 months to paint a room so it looks a bit like a gallery. It is to be called FLEA, which is ironic because we chose the name before being overrun by the little bastards. Our legs have sores resembling late stage plague victims.

So our plan was, in a really relaxed way, to start inviting people whose work we like to put on little exhibitions in a room in our house. We want to invite people who wouldn't otherwise show work in Ipswich and see if anyone turns up. Being naturally introverted we don't really mind if no one does. To break ourselves in gently our first show is work by four friends that might look good together. they are:

Hayley Lock

Justine Moss

Jamie Clements

David Kefford

and the show is called

Our Friends in the East...

more info to come.

oh this is a stab at a poster. The info might be wrong but if you turn up I promise to put the kettle on.

In which I mention Ryan Gander

Oh shit!

I read an interview with Ryan Gander this morning. 

http://www.fadwebsite.com/2014/08/20/interview-ryan-gander-on-useless-machines-art-funding-and-manchester/?utm_content=buffer29331&utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook.com&utm_campaign=buffer

I hope the link works, it's very long winded. Anyway Ryan said that if an artist isn't supporting themselves with their work after ten years they should give it up. 

Damn damn damn...

I count this video as the start of my career

http://m.imdb.com/title/tt1537248/?ref_=m_nmfmd_dr_1

Note the date, 2004. I have but three months to get my act together! At this point I should mention that I finished university much earlier than 2004, much much earlier, but choose not to count the intervening "dark ages".  

However before I chuck up everything and just clear off I am reminded that just as an artist is able to magically say "this is art" they also have an uncanny knack of drawing a line demarcating "those that should carry on" and "those that shouldn't" just below their own position. So there is hope for us all

The only thing that really upset me in the interview was that Ryan didn't like artists to do a load of residencies because it was a waste of "Tax payers' money". Actually there were a couple of other things too that sounded a bit Thatcherite but perhaps that's my age showing again. 

Nothing to Report

One thing I have nearly learnt over the past few years is that while something in the studio might seem a great idea unfortunately it's utter genius may not translate into a gallery space. My current problem is making a thing that will provide for the viewer the tension of being on the brink of collapse and simultaneously not break down for a month. Even with my tweaking there is certainly more than a little danger of the latter. Mind you it wouldn't be the first time I have spent a private view taping things back together, and while such furtive repairs tend to make me sweat, I'm sure they make interesting viewing. The show in question is due to open at the same time as that great machine Frieze, details to follow soon. I am also looking forward to the reunion this coming Sunday of "The Count of Monte Cristo", an artistic cabal worthy of any of Holmes' greatest mysteries. The group is growing and hopes to cause mild stirrings in a number of locations in the following year. But I mustn't go on. My darling Annabel says she has grown weary of folk who constantly allude to future excitement, indeed she has had to limit her time on Facebook as it is giving her the vapours. 

English Depressive

I never finished reading American Psycho. I think I never got to the good bit as it was mostly about endless high end product purchase and ridiculous personal grooming. No one got killed. 

I left the book beside the toilet on the day I quit the marital home for a better life.

Now, relaxed and comforted in my new home I wonder if I should take it up again or leave it. A clean break. 

Freudian Slip

"I've been worrying about some new work" I said this afternoon. I had meant to say "wondering" but having failed my cbt introductory course, it came out all wrong. I once announced (in a meeting) that I had made a "freudian shit" so this one is perhaps not too bad. In fact, for me, the acts of worry and wonder are common bedfellows.

The work I was worrying about is going to relate to Houdini's famous "bridge jump"escape. The one where he was variously locked in mail-sacks, bound in chains, welded into milk churns etc and dropped into a river. They weren't, as far as I know, illusions but physical acts of escape.

In Ipswich at the moment there have been calls to put up safety barriers on the Orwell Bridge in an attempt to stop the jumpers. There have been further calls not to do this as said barriers will inevitably spoil the bridge's architectural elegance. Obviously these people do not feel that its beauty is affected by the regular sight of a plummeting suicide. I'm not sure where I stand on the matter, will the barriers prevent suicides, or will they just divert them to more mundane locations and methods? Anyway the point of the "bridge jump" is that it is nearly, but not quite, a suicide. This is, I suppose, why people liked to watch it.

Some readers may be worried here that I may be considering some form of artistic self endangerment. Fear not, cycling over the Orwell Bridge was the closest I ever came to a near death experience and it is not something I intend to repeat.

Dove Cottage under fire from flaming arrows

The dreaded email arrived yesterday. I didn't get the commission. The pain has been dulled by the £500 I am to receive for my efforts. Such messages are not uncommon in the life of an artist and I often get  a strange feeling of relief. Meanwhile Annabel is getting angry and is planning to drive our car into Dove cottage. I have explained that it is protected by a rather stout looking stone wall and the chance of our 2CV making any impact is negligible. This said, Annabel's response to most sleights I receive is this lightweight ram raid (reader be warned) and to be honest she hasn't quite mastered the gears yet.

Hindsight

After the interview at Abbot Hall I fell down some steps. I was descending into Euston Square station in the rain. Luckily as my feet flew forward both arms were flung apart and by reflex alone I grabbed the handrails spaced exactly my arm-span apart. I hung cruciform for a few seconds hoping someone had witnessed my fall and salvation. Unfortunately they had not. Today I am reminded of the event by the aching of the seldom used muscles under my arms.

Above is the view I snapped from the train to Oxenholme. I was moving away from the sun kissed hill, not towards it. Earlier I had left Abbot Hall at a run, it must have been an overflowing of adrenaline following an interview with a panel of seven. I am not sure of this number (there may have been eight or six) or what exactly I said, the panic I feel in such situations shuts down so many of my, already beleaguered, faculties.

Before the interview I spent some time lurking in the cafe and meandering round the collection. I think I spied my rivals, one preparing a presentation on her mac, the other circling a little like me. I tried to catch their names, written upside down on the sign-in sheet, but failed.

The morning had been spent making a sort of croupier's stick and model bicycle to push round my map. I sat, again in cafés, shaky from the sleepless night before enjoying the smell of coffee and toast.


This post is dedicated to Belinda, the lovely volunteer who tried to calm my nerves, gave me tips and told me there were only two people doing the interviewing.