Skinny Dipping

The deed is done ... studio walls have been filled, sanded and painted; floors cleaned; work hung; symposium presentation delivered ... and breathe!

Thick Skinned (detail) - found crucifix, plastic, felt, aluminium, thread
© Vanda Campbell 2013

Thick Skinned (detail) 
© Vanda Campbell 2013

Left Behind (detail) - found earring (broken), plastic, felt, thread
© Vanda Campbell 2013

On the Cuff

With a week to go, I am taking the "brave / foolish / right / wrong" (delete as appropriate) decision not to show "Off the Cuff" as part of my final MA project. Samples have been made, patterns cut and recut, stitches sewn and unpicked, but nothing is close to being presentable.

The potential for reworking clothing elements to take on the role of more traditional jewellery mounts, is something that realistically needs more time than is available before an arbitrary submission deadline.  “On the Cuff” is an expression, not so familiar as “Off the Cuff”, but at this point in time is a more appropriate description of what this work has become ... a promise of delivery in the future.

Samples so far have used pattern-cutting techniques to manipulate the fabric into forms that hint at traditional jewellery mounts.  Decreasing circles of cloth are carefully measured and stitched.  Laid flat, the form acts as a frame for the hole, the negative space, in the cloth.  Lifted, the form becomes a telescopic structure that if worn, alters the familiar shape of the body, or can be used to hide a secret, in a way not dissimilar to concealing a photograph or keepsake in a locket.

When positioned over the body (for example on the chest, or on an arm), this allows me to effectively re-present the exposed flesh.  Unadorned skin could take on the role of a gemstone, and assume the values and significance of what, in monetary terms, is often the most valuable element in traditional jewellery.  By using the textile piece to frame the body in this way, the negative space would become the positive object.  The body would be reassigned as a gemstone; the fabric would be reassigned as a frame, or mount.

I know that potentially this research could produce some really exciting work, with fabric structures being displayed in a way that are almost familiar - folded on a shelf or hung on a clothes hanger - giving an indication that they might be clothing.  But there the familiarity would stop.  The forms might not be instantly obvious.  How they are to be worn is not evident.

Exciting, isn't it?!

PS  Don't worry, Thick Skinned, Left Behind and Not so Thick Skinned are all ready and presentable, so there won't be an void where Vanda should be!

Jilted

What happens to earrings when one of the pair is broken?  Is one, or both, left behind, assigned to a dusty corner of a jewellery box or drawer?  If the broken earring no longer functions as  jewellery, can it become something else?

Left Behind is a collection of earrings, one of which has been damaged or broken.  The imperfect one  is dipped and coated in tinted plastic, and hung in a grid opposite it's perfect other half.  The dipped earring no longer functions as jewellery but becomes something more - a body, a form.  The 'perfect' earring loses it's partner, and so is, in turn, left behind.

Studio Work in Progress Jilted © Vanda Campbell 2013 

Studio Work in Progress Jilted © Vanda Campbell 2013

Mirror Mirror

Pockets stuffed with useful bits of this and that ... reading glasses, earphones, mirrors ... They all have specific uses, but for only fleeting moments in the day.  What do they become when they are at rest, I wonder?  If they are worn, rather than carried, can they function as jewellery during their 'down' times?  Stretching this thought further, what about when they are broken and no longer fit for their original, intended purpose? 

Mirror Mirror Studio work - found mirror, foam, acrylic
© Vanda Campbell 2013

Mirror Mirror Studio work - acrylic, aluminium, wood, plastidip
© Vanda Campbell 2013 

Mirror Mirror Studio work - found mirror, acrylic, wood, aluminium
© Vanda Campbell 2013 

Material Memories

There has been much discussion in the Campbell / Walsh household (artist / scientist ... say no more) on material memories.  Or more specifically, how the narrative of memory can be made evident in objects.  A major stumbling block has been the artist's (my) assertion that there is such a thing as a material memory, which has been opposed at every opportunity by the scientist's assertion that memories may be triggered by an object, but cannot actually reside in the object.  

Like many others, I have long been attracted to antique embroidery samplers.  Technically challenging, exquisitely executed ... evidence of hours and hours of work.  What would the impact be if I were to reduce this work to a memory.  A lucky find of a beautifully stitched tray cloth in a charity shop offered an opportunity to investigate, but my usual ruthless approach to destruction was unexpectedly halted.  Not dissimilar to taking the first cut when cutting out a dressmaking pattern from cloth, I found it incredibly difficult to make the first incision.  However, cut I did, and painstakingly removed the stitches, colour by colour.

Was I being disrespectful to the original stitcher?  Would it be possible to reduce this work to a memory  and if so, what would its impact be? To be honest, I'm still not sure.  Once the first stitch had been removed, the original beauty was slowly replaced by a new, quieter, aesthetic.  The process was slow and considered, and allowed plenty of opportunity for reflection ... and I suspect that it is in the reflection that the real memory work was happening.

Studio Work in Progress Material Memory © Vanda Campbell 2013 

Studio Work in Progress Material Memory  © Vanda Campbell 2013

Studio Work in Progress Material Memory  © Vanda Campbell 2013

Studio Work in Progress Material Memory  © Vanda Campbell 2013

Material Memory  © Vanda Campbell 2013

Domestic Diss'

Studying for an MA should be demanding academically, and empowering professionally.  We are now at the end of our first semester, but still have no studio space to work freely in.  A new room has been provided, but this wasn't available until we had been studying for a few weeks, and then came with implicit instructions that nothing could be attached to the walls!  What utter nonsense.  It would appear the demands of the accountants, administrators and estate management team supersede the needs of the students.  A solution was eventually proposed, involving building mdf stud partition walls that could be 'pinned' to, but no labour has been allocated to build it.  Students are rallying round, but progress is slow, and is likely to slow down even more as the pressures of academic deadlines and assessments approach.  We need a space to work in.

The impact of this on my practice has been significant. There are many practical disadvantages to working from home (lack of space, interruptions, distractions), but more importantly, I believe, are the professional implications. Work produced in a domestic environment, tends to be conservative, and domestic, in scale and ambition.  Would we be expected to conduct our scientific research from home if we were studying for an MSc I wonder?

Come on University of Hertfordshire.  Show your students that you believe in them, and value their practice.  Build the studio, paint it white, rejoice in the creativity that will ensue.

Precious Imperfection

When I embarked on the MA course, one of many intentions was to use the time and support to further my practice, not only practically and academically, but also professionally. There are loads of competitions and exhibition opportunities open to artists, and I have been spending a disproportionate amount of time grappling with my thoughts as to how I can adapt my work to fit in a fine art environment. 

The opportunities open specifically to applied artists are significantly less, but I have come across an international bi-annual jewellery competition.  The downside is there are only two weeks until the deadline.  It is easy to let another opportunity slip by while working on achieving perfection, and it is far too easy to find a thousand reasons to justify not doing something, and not taking a risk.  To enter, or not to enter?  "Enter". There, I've said it, I'm now committed.

Hosted by mineralART, the competition is titled 'inside quartz - precious imperfection'.  I don't work with traditional jewellery gemstones, and know very little about quartz, but the notion of precious imperfection is something I have been exploring in my use of broken, fragmented treasures, so I will find my own way of interpreting the brief ...

The competition focuses on the production of an innovative piece of jewellery or object made of or in connection with quartz that inspires the designer through inclusions of other crystals or structural qualities.  It is all about the actual design of the object.  There are no restrictions as to the origin or variety of the quartz used.  (excerpt from mineralART)

Google images have revealed some wonderful diagrams and photographs of various quartz, and I need to explore these further.  Two small purchases of quartz pieces from a witchy new age shop (thank you Dr Dave x) have provided some actual source material, so I'm off to work.  Drawing, printing, photographing, looking, researching, scanning ... images to follow.

Drawing on ideas

WHAT HAPPENS NEXT ... (or how I develop ideas)

My practice is constantly evolving, and rather than starting afresh with each new project, I find I return to recurring themes and ideas, as I attempt to make sense of the world around me.  In the early stages of a new body of work, drawing is essential.  It provides an excuse to stop, think, observe and reflect.  I love the physical action of leaving marks on paper, and the unexpected effect of mixing materials often results in a glorious frisson.

Untitled (detail), mixed media, 2011

For me, drawing can be meditative, almost cathartic, and allows an opportunity for the subject to find its voice. It is through drawing that I really start to see my source material, as the drawing exposes lines, forms, patterns and connections that are initially hidden.  

Jasper Johns summed up the process ... "Sometimes I see it and then paint it, other times I paint it and then see it." Jasper Johns (Sixteen Americans, Dorothy C. Miller, MoMA, New York, p. 22).

I think I probably do both.

Oh, to be a turnupstuffer

I'm loving the MA course, and am finding more and more ways of investigating both my practice and the practices of my contemporaries.  I'm still unsure of what exactly it is that I do, or make, but continue to feel compelled to do it nonetheless.  In a bid to try to understand who, or what I am, I have been asked to answer some crucial questions, which I hope will provide me with an insight into my methodology.  I will probably revisit these questions as the weeks progress, so reserve the right to change my answers ... a little, or maybe a lot!

IN THE BEGINNING ... (or "How do I generate and evaluate new ideas?)
I've been repeatedly renewing a book from the library lately - Found treasures: Hermann Jünger and the Art of Jewelry (Thames & Hudson, 2001).  

Hidden (well, not really hidden, but given a page of its own, with a virtual trumpet attached) is a quote from Pippi Longstocking ...


"A turnupstuffer." "What's that?" asked Tommy. "Somebody who finds the stuff that turns up if only you look, of course. What else would it be?" said Pippi. "The whole world is filled with things that are just waiting for someone to come along and find them, and that's just what a turnupstuffer does."
Astrid Lindgren,
'Pippi Longstocking'



So, it's official, my practice does have a name, and at the moment I am mostly a turnupstuffer.  For my methodology starts with collecting ... broken fragments of life, unable to fulfil their original function, and no longer with a recognisable form.  Usually man-made, small-scale, and with an unexpected twinkle, I am compelled to stoop to rescue them from the gutter.  

Turned up stuff, 2011