Pancakes and blenders

It may seem like I've been absent from studio work for the last few days but there has been an element of research and decision-making to the time spent. Promise. Everything I do falls into one of 4 categories and places: Sodbury/Family things; Hotwells/Henry things; Hackney/Shoe things; Kingston/Fine Art things. The Fine Art things have taken last place this last month and it really can't be so anymore.

So...

Have yet to figure out the electronics for moving cootie catchers, am going to go to the engineering dept for some expert help. I'd like to be much more proficient in automation and automatons than I currently am.

1) Go to engineering
2) Learn something helpful
3) Make something that works to go on a cootie catcher

Saw The Pancakes on Saturday night at the Folkhouse. Was once again struck by the simplicity and honesty of their instruments. (Not the Hong Kong pancakes, the Suffolk Pancakes.) They have a less well-made Juneau Proj feel about them and the way they present themselves.

(not my photos)

Their drum kit, as you can see, is a wooden box, with a stick nailed on and a saucepan lid on top. The kick pedal is a homemade pulley system and it's a shame i forgot my camera as I really wanted to record it. I think it's a lovely object. It exists as a static object, one that can be imagined to play as well as be played. A normal drum kit, of the sort that's gathering dust in my room in Bristol, is there to be played and when static, looks no more than a familiar drum kit. It can be overlooked, unlike the Pancake kit. It has become something other. It is not a box anymore, the saucepan lid is not a saucepan lid.

On a similar note, the current show Ujino and The Rotators at the Hayward Gallery Project Space is incredibly exciting. Notified by Rosa, I went and I loved, and felt a little like what I was doing was a shoddy shitty version. But I will carry on nonetheless and try and take something from it.



Ujino's work revels in a punk sensibility, a mish-mash of unwanted domestic appliances, appliances now outdated and redundant, and creates a sound piece with them. He calls the pieces a band, much like I wanted to call the cootie catchers an orchestra, and treats them as such, letting groups of them combine to become one instrument, and each group playing for a set amount of time. I would have really liked to see them all play together, without the organised and planned structure. When the focus shifted for the first time, I thought it was my presence moving around the room that had caused the shift, and was quite (ego ego ego) disappointed when it wasn't. I really wanted to be part of the piece and the denial of any kind of interaction annoyed me greatly. I'm sure that this does not apply to everyone, I know a lot of people would like to just look at artwork, but my my I needed to play with those things.

This, I think it what I have been looking for in many pieces that don't offer it, and so I must make work myself that offers it. I like the unexpected, the idea that someone could come along and break the damn thing if they really wanted to.




For something fantastic, have a look at the opening credits and indeed the whole hour and a half, of The Company, Thursdays on BBC2. 1st episode is on iplayer. do it do it do it.