Friday, 1 October 2004

A rash move

I've done something slightly rash. in the meantime, here is a picture:Birdskelflat_1



I've taken out a year's subscription to Flickr, a photo hosting sit that will allow me 1GB of uploading per monthand unlimited storage for the life of the subscription (that's at least 12 GB per year of storage online, year on year) Perhaps I'd have been cheaper learning how to host my own server, but it seemed like a good idea at £2 per month for all the uploading I could handle. I've decided to celebrate with a mammoth upload of some photos i took last Autumn as research for my still-in-development Whistling Copse book. (link to follow when album has uploaded...)


flaming eyeball


Untitled-5
Originally uploaded by aesop.


here's one of the illustrations I'm doing for the art dictionary I'm working on for Ale + Porter in Bradford on Avon. This is my version of a book label. As you can see I've decided to go with the old "Flaming eyeball" motif: a classic standyby for exlibris plates.



An Ideal World

In an ideal world, without all the other distractions and hangups attaching to my research, what would life be like?



One does wonder. Of course, I've barely begun and certain things about this lifestyle must be supposed to straighten themselves out- not least the fact that I have a number of opportunities and commissions that I'm following up at the moment and which, if they all come through, will give me enough cash to pay for my first semester's tuition fees a couple of exhibitions and some valuable teaching experience. So I'm not complaining, for all that I say about feeling ragged and tense.


What I would love though, is to have an unfettered stretch of time, devoid of any distractions that would allow me the chance to refine and compose my thoughts and intentions. Achieve mystical union with my research proposal, that kinda thing.


Thinking about it though, it's clear that the sort of experiences I most want to have in this imaginary intellectual retreat are exactly the same experiences likely to produce the sort of tasks and workload I have now. In my fantasy world, of course, I'm teaching more than a simple evening class and the book illustration and exhibition work I'm doing is more elaborate and achieves something close to nirvana in its fulfillment of my artistic intentions, but I'm glad to have the more realistic opportunities I really have got.


Anything I'd enjoy doing is going to always produce things I'd like to do with the new knowledge and expertise &c and I'm back where I am now, juggling. And the more interested I get (looking forward to the reading group, for example, and the sparks that'll come out of meetings with my supervisors) the more I'll have on my mind that I want to do.


What I could dispense with, however, is my part-time work in the central library, which is an eater of time and energy and which, while useful for the cash and proximity to books (to some extent), is nonetheless a major frustration when I'd rather be- need to be- getting on with more important things.


I realize that identifying my workload as a Bad Thing rather than as evidence of my success and as the natural results of my interest in things is just a personal position. By walking myself through it like this, it's become a bit clearer that things are actually okay in an odd sort of way, because I'm busy and engaged (if a little tangentially).


Thursday, 30 September 2004

reading group

As part of my induction to things at UWE I have to attend a course in methodology which I'm basically gatecrashing into, with a number of well-settled students studying at various levels. I haven't settled into it at all yet, and spent all my time wondering about how I would square the neccessary attendance with my personal timetable (I can't attend on Thursdays, which is when a number of things I would find personally useful are scheduled). However, some interesting things are emerging, including an idea to form reading groups that will help us to review interesting texts together and possibly help us to find things we wouldn't otherwise countenence looking at. As one of the other students said "sometimes it's nice to have someone explain it to you" as well. The idea is to produce a "rich mental compost". I think the combination of eclecticism and the chance to discuss it with peers in related disciplines will be fun.



With that in mind I'm going to use this post as a repository of possible writings I might bring along, editing the post to include more as I think of them.


WS Graham
Johann Joachim Quantz's Five Lessons
A Found Picture



Two poems about art and the production of art by the artist.



Wednesday, 29 September 2004

A Zen Test

My friend Andrew has recently completed his PhD, and replied helpfully to a recent email I sent scratching my head over methodology...

Methodology is the great demon of research, and once you get the hang of it, it is not a problem - its a zen test. However, by testing, be careful that you don't let yourself slip into the idea of test = metrics. It is much more complicated than that. Or rather it is isn't: its much broader than that. Comparison will probably have to be made, that is your most likely route, but it isn't a question of matching like with like, nor or finding a 'better' solution, the articulation of a field will constitute research quite happily in the right context. (Assuming that you're interpretation is novel, and draws from other fields, for example).



What can be produced?

Just a bit of a shakedown here, to see if, secretly, I already know what I need to do, without actually knowing it.


In terms of research which is actually based on artwork- (practice-based research)- what evidence can be produced?


• sketchbooks. All the work comes from somewhere. All of it goes through a process: some of it visual, some of it theoretical, some of it reflexive. Some of my working notes can be effective guides to the "design process" of artwork and the various guises it takes to achieve final form. ( I was reading earlier today in the Research Training Initiative folders about some stuff touching on Popper and Kuhn in relation to the process of knowledge formation in formal situations. I wonder if a transplant will take, or indeed, what I'll use it for if it does. certainly it's true that the process of creativity in the arts follows a process of positivist progress one day and tearing things up to start again the next. And there are often discoveries that are made in the context of a work that could come about, it seems at the time, no other way)


What, I wonder, would be a useful way to talk about such processes? What sort of way of writing would I adopt to dramatise these events, being as they are partly mental events, partly written events, partly events-of-the-gesture which happen in the physical process of creation; some are events which have a logical chronology, some follow an intuitive or emotional or short-lived context that makes them difficult to write about or apprehend in a larger-and-trying-to-be-all-embracing ontological context for practice. They vanish or cease to make sense before they can be grafted meaningfully into my understanding of the artwork. How can I capture these events within creativity when they so often produce no "paper trail" and not even (to pursue the metaphor) any sort of "heat signature" that I can lock onto in my ruminations of what I was thinking about when I made such and such? ( A strange endeavour to class as "research", anyway) The "experimental apparatus" for creating artwork is cleared away so swiftly and completely from the mind that it can be difficult to piece together how a thing was made from the physical traces that remain: they're only part of the process itself. I think this process is the mysterious thing we call practice.


• logs of intentions and library/source research undertaken to inform work. Commentary on sources. A "compost heap of ideas" informing the contextual basis.


• detailed analysis of intention. How successful has the idea for the artwork been? What changed? What does this reveal about the working process in my artwork? ( I suspect: that it doesn't follow a pathway easily definable as research per se, but that it does of itself fork over new ground and turf up some interesting things).


• analysis of the medium: why choose it and how has it coped? This could mean several things in terms of "medium" eg: the composition of pencils and inks and paints and so on, or the particular capabilities and effective valencies of a medium of representation


• production of materials which are exemplars of the theoretical points raised:eg a book which depends on the social construction of the book for some of its effect; a book which recursively examines its own place in epistemological space (and some evidence of the researches undertaken to produce the artifact)


•stages of production: writing :storyboarding: photo materials: drawings: reference materials: in case of painting, photos of stages of production: (the premise being that the finished artifact constitutes the outcome of a body of research, embodied in the artifact itself.


• experiment with porting the work to other media: results

I could "transcribe" my own work OR MY INTERPRETATIONS OF OTHER'S WORK to other media than that in which they originally appear. This appeals to me in a perverse sort of way, But I'm not sure what it would show...


• reflexive practice: work which is aware of the evidence produced in the analyses arising from some of the other methods. This could be recursive, producing artwork where the subject research is based in the research I've been doing into my own artwork...which is in fact, artwork based on my own research into my own artwork...which is... I don't know if this sounds like a good thing. After a couple of generations of this we'd soon see the weaknesses of the breed though!


One use of this reflexive practice would be the retrofitting of various bits of theory I've picked up for explaining artists' books to the books themselves. But what would this achieve? Would a book that was about the book as a social construction tell me anything more about how this phenomenon works, or would it simply be a sophisticated sort of redundancy: an artistic tautology (actually, art abounds in tautologies: endlessly piling on layer after layer of signification'll often do that sorta thing)


This is an area where I'm doing a few bits of reading just now anyway, and I hope I'll be better informed before long. I still feel slightly furtive about research through artwork, which is clearly something I'll have to surmount if I want seriously to let my fine art practice have any place in my research.




Tuesday, 28 September 2004

First Day

Well, sort of not my first day. I've been hanging around UWE for some 10 years since starting my BA in 93. I've been a sort of hungry ghost ever since, wandering purposelessly around various departments looking for some sort of purpose. I'm trying to decide whether it's a good thing, because it means I'm not an unknown face and I know certain things about the different departments, or a bad thing because people will assume that I'm aware of things I simply am not. It remains to be seen, although I should guard against ascribing any problems to this slight peculiarity. Truth is that the support for research students is a lot more on the flexible/ad hoc basis (with the empahsis ther being quite neutral, honest) and I need time to get used to the various systems that it is composed of.


Today saw me sit in on a mandatory module that they make all the new research students do these days: a year-long module on methodologies: potentially very welcome. Anyone for practice based research in the Fine Arts? No? Thought not. So I figured this would help a bit and help me try to fashion some sort of shipshape research model I could take around the block for a spin.


It sure is confusing. I haven't helped: not being able to turn up on Thursdays- which is when the other raw researchers are attending has meant that I'm in with the 2nd and 3rd year MA students who follow the same program I'm doing over 3 years ( I think), but on a slightly different timetable to me: and lots of other possible things I could attend or not, and a reading group to share wee snips of useful texts and various inductions I have to attend to be allowed near the saws and glue I need to make my art&research Frankensteinia. Confused yet? Me too. However, help is at hand, with my supervisor and the module leader both promising enlightenment via personal tutorials wher it will all be cleared up, of course. I need to ask the right questions and get my peace of mind out of the way before I attend to the getting-rid-of-paperwork that will possibly be what the time is really for.


I haven't found today all that inspiring. A bit raw from parsing down so much information intended for people in other circumstances ( I think there are at least 3 different award/research groups within the group that sat down wit5h me today. And, really, I didn't come out of it with much more knowledge than I started out with about what I'm supposed to be up to for this module, because I am (blush) different from the rest.


Actually, maybe not quite so. There was talk of the MA students keeping logbooks of studio practiuce and commentary of various stuff they'd come across which had informed their work, which sounds like a good thing to get hold of: various things arising from this will certainly comprise some facet of a practice based research in the fine arts, I would've thought.


For now:

Must sort through a couple of emails: one to try to sort out some inductions, and one to my supervisopr to remind/confirm with him what he said he'd do as regards a tutorial.


I suppose I should be making some artwork too, hadn't I?