Larkin’ About & Library Theatre
Today I received news of a brilliant early Christmas present. I've been selected following an open call for proposals to collaborate with local pervasive gaming collective Larkin' About in partnership with The Library Theatre Company to create my own dollop of in-situ, explorative silliness as part of Manchester Histories Festival 2012. The festival will see an exciting day of pervasive gaming around the mosaic hallways, vaulted chambers and Gothic cubbyholes of Manchester Town Hall on Saturday 3rd March.
I submitted two ideas, both of which they liked although I must now choose one to take forward, responding to a couple of obscure but fascinating lesser-known subjects relating to the city's past, as I wanted to avoid the usual suspects (industrialisation, sport, Engels, votes for women, the Baby computer etc. no disrespect to any of these areas intended!) The process will include a game mechanics workshop, one-to-one mentoring, play-testing and of course the delivery itself.
It's going to be a wonderful start to 2012!
Nick Broomfield Q&A
Last night I was fortunate to host a Q&A with filmmaker Nick Broomfield following a screening of his latest doc-venture, Sarah Palin: You Betcha! The night was a sell-out and it was amusing to see that this former L'enfent terrible, once jeered and challenged for his highly personalised style (whereby he appears on screen in his films just as much as the subjects he's pursuing), now treated with the veneration of an elder statesman by the many young documentary makers in the audience. One question from an attendee stuck with me: "Do you think Sarah Palin is mad, bad or dangerous to know?" Nick replied, "All three!"
The most chilling moment in the film for me is when Palin takes to the stage at a women's evangelical rally after another speaker has denounced gay and lesbian rights with the poisonous epithet, "We're judging you". That Palin should share the room, the bill and endeavour to pander to the same audience speaks volumes about her moral coda. In a recent interview with the G2 supplement of The Guardian, Nick Broomfield talks of his films as being 'portraits by omission'. Often it's what is not said, not done, not admitted (and indeed those who remain unspoken to, in the case of Palin, Thatcher, Courtney Love etc.), that can colour an impression. From this distance, Palin's heart appears to be a greenish-brown, sludgy shade of toxic.
Abstract Lego Sculpture
The idea for an Abstract Lego Sculpture Workshop in response to artist Rashid Rana’s first UK public solo exhibition at Cornerhouse came to me when I first saw his new body of photo-sculpture works; ordinary, even average domestic objects that had been regressed to the razor edge of visual legibility. The use of block pixels reminded me of Lego, and so the idea was born. We would invite participants to deconstruct and rebuild their own everyday items and in doing so tackle two otherwise brain-hurty artistic concepts for themselves: minimalism, and abstraction. Can we do it? Yes we can!
Plastic Flowers In A Traditional Vase (2007 / detail) Rashid Rana. Image courtesy the artist, Gallery Chemould and Chatterjee & Lal, Mumbai
Rashid’s photo sculptures are responding to Minimalist ideals and intentions – reducing, simmering down to a base flavor like a soup stock, an essence, but also mocking this technique by taking a series of flat 2D photographs of the objects themselves and re-creating them as three-dimensional forms. To use food as a metaphor, this is like taking the contents of a tube of tomato puree, the distilled, ultra-flavoured essence of a specific taste, and moulding it back into the shape of a tomato… even re-attaching it to the vine. It’s absurd, but there is skill and a deliberate intention behind the act.
With the expert tutelage of the UK’s only Lego-certified freelance model builder, Ducan Titmarsh of Bright Bricks, we emulated this same process ourselves in our workshop by taking two objects, a Coke can and a stack of Wii cartridge games, and subjecting them to the same treatment. They will no longer look exactly like the originals, but still be recognizable as such. Think Picasso’s jumbled face-portraits, unblinking cyclopic eyes balanced upon triangular noses, or musical compositions that sound like a piano being dropped from a building. And then run over with a steamroller.
This is the bit where, in a traditional magazine layout, there would be a spiky bright yellow explosion accompanied by the subheading Did You Know…? Minimalism describes the practice and movement across multiple disciplines, but especially visual art and music, where the maker sets out to expose the essence or identity of a subject by stripping it back until only the bare bones remain. Abstraction indicates a departure from reality in the depiction of imagery; a courageous and still controversial approach when much of Western art right up until the mid 19th Century had been preoccupied by the illusion of reality and the orthodox logic of perspective.
Books 2 (2010-11 / detail) Rashid Rana. Image courtesy the artist and Lisson Gallery, London
A coke can is one of the most recognizable items on the planet. It crosses cultures and continents and despite limited editions or redesigns or a change to the font and calligraphic text, it remains red and white and cylindrical. Cast your mind back to school art classes – were you ever asked to draw a crushed coke can? Without realising it, this might well have been your first exposure to the concept of abstraction – of moving away from a literal, clear representation of an object that still retains those core elements despite being jumbled and obscured. The curl of the letter C, the pillar box tint, a peeled ring pull. You don’t need to see all of it to recognise it for what it is.
Similarly, cast your thoughts back to early computer games, or what we know now to be early if you never actually played them. 8-bit, pixelated characters, Spectrum, Atari, Commodore. A limited number of pixels and no such thing as a graphics engine meant that characters and backgrounds were formed of little coloured blocks. Fast forward to the present and the likes of Mario and Sonic still survive in successful franchises, so the option of creating a stack of Wii games is a nod to their earlier incarnations. A thumbprint of red and white squares to represent a mushroom. Rectangles and triangles represent landscapes, bouncing brick-shaped bombs. We used our imagination in that situation, we can do the same now.
We are making, we are unmaking. We are simplifying, we are complicating. Hence the title of the overall exhibition – Everything Is Happening At Once. Thank you to all our participants, all of who commented upon how much fun it was to combine theoretical concepts with a playful make-it-yourself opportunity. Demands were made for further, weekly Lego workshops to tackle art history (a lone voice requested Duplo – we’ll say no more). For those who wish to continue this journey into modern art via the joyful medium of children’s toys, may I recommend John Cake and Darren Neave, an artist duo who recreate seminal YBA installations using – you guessed it – Lego!
Thanks to Explore More blog for the lovely personal write-up of their experience as a participant.
A Barbara Nice Afternoon
In my present role I’ve been on a good few artist and/or curator talks this past year alone, and almost always encounter the same problem: the tour group is made up of people with an enthusiastic albeit untutored interest in art (I include myself in this group), whilst the host is usually dripping, drenched, nay - sodden in obscure terms and verbiage: entangled in a drag net behind the SS Art World and all who sail in her.
The result is that within minutes of starting such a tour, most of those present have retreated to a safe space in their heads, the better to shut out the white noise that fills the gallery. A brave few might discreetly linger in mock-interest at a specific work, subsequently edging towards the exit, whilst the remainder dutifully file around making a mental note not to make the mistake of signing up to such a bore-fest again.
I’d had enough. While there is certainly still a place to hear direct from the artist or persons behind a show, especially for those able and willing to push past the veil of intimidation, it’s hardly suitable for encouraging a more personal response from those less familiar with the whizz-bang-snooze of verbal pyrotechnics. I wanted a tour guide for those who still needed stabilizers attaching to their cultural bike ride until they’d got the hang of sudden gusts of hot air.
Someone like a Mum, or a batty Aunt, who knew even less about the work on display than they did, but wasn’t afraid to speak their mind or submit an opinion.
Mrs Barbara Nice / image by Emma Case (copyright)
One specific person came to mind. I didn’t want to consider anyone else. I got in touch with Mrs Barbara Nice, the comic creation of Janice Connolly, star of Phoenix Nights, Coronation Street, Max and Paddy’s Road to Nowhere and tour support for Peter Kay. Barbara is a fictional Stockport housewife and mother of five, immune to false graces and after rearing her own brood, unshockable. I asked is she would lead a walkaround our current exhibition by artist Rashid Rana. She replied. She said she’d do it... but would it work? Or would we simply end up firing cheap shots at the usual modern art targets?
The tour was a sell-out (although free), raised to 45 people from the standard 30 due to demand, with repeat requests for a waiting list. On the afternoon itself Barbara set to work sweeping through the arrival area in full leopard-print and giant handbag, with a “Hiya, howya doin’?”, before grading the participants by coat colour. Purple was heavily evidenced. The more chatty individuals were quickly identified and gently prodded (Iris, the vegan who couldn’t stop touching the artwork, and Mickey, who wasn’t afraid to proffer an opinion), while others were gently encouraged to offer their own thoughts up and comments.
Despite a planned running-time of just 40 minutes, the tour went on for a record breaking 1 hour 40 minutes. As part of the experience we forbade anyone from reading the wall text or guides and simply shoot from the hip. We talked of colour and shade, of a geographic sense of place, the representation of flesh and violence, power dynamics, role of women, stereotypes, false knowledge and honest response, pictography, pixellation and porn. All while Barbara fussed, cajoled and supported even the quietest members of the group to have confidence in their own thoughts.
The tour culminated in Gallery 3: An Idea of Abstract, and the mammoth pay-off that is the giant, sculptural mirage of Desperately Seeking Paradise II. But instead of trying to shape a cursory summary to our humble journey, talk leaned toward cleaning solutions for this mammoth dust magnet. Feather dusters were duly distributed, and everyone pitched in with a light sweep and flick to ensure the work stayed looking tip-top. Afterwards everyone was encouraged to write postcards to the artist himself, with all those present unanimous in urging future tours that avoid belittling participants and encourage discussion.
I hope to bring Barbara back and team up again, I enjoyed playing the straight man in my prop ‘clever glasses’ to her kitchen sink wisdom. As for Barbara’s own postcard to Rashid, it read as follows:
“Dear Rashid, I’d be happy to do this tour for you in Pakistan. P.S. My passport is up to date!”
Thanks to Cornerhouse Digital Reporter Ben Williams who wrote up his experience of the event here. Thanks also to photographer Emma Case for the use of her wonderful shot of Barbara with the purple balloons above!
1970s Standard fireworks
Happy Bonfire Night for tomorrow, everyone.