Souvenirs from St Ives

On a visit to the Royal Cornwall Museum in Truro last week, I was disappointed by the lack of anything textile-based in the collection.  I suspect this is due to a number of factors, not least the inherent mortality of textiles.  I wonder, too, if the often lowly, domestic status of a large number of items made from textiles is deemed unworthy to be included in many museums.  Museums all to often seem to pride themselves on their collections of valuable status items once owned by the rich and important.  It would be nice however, to also have an insight into the lives, tools and possessions of the 'lower' echelons of society.    The inevitable exit through the giftshop, and displays of tacky souvenirs, provided plenty of food for thought.

British seaside towns are great places for souvenir spotting. Perfectly serviceable objects, such as plates or spoons are rendered functionless, by the addition of copious quantities of frilly edges, sentimental phrases, and even googley eyes. A camping holiday in a British seaside town also, inevitably, involves rain.  Tent-bound, with only a crochet hook for a studio, I set about making my own found object souvenirs.  

Everyday, thrown-away items, with the addition of textiles, and elevated to 'souvenir' status.  

Studio work - Souvenir 1, Found plastic, crochet  © Vanda Campbell 2012

Studio work - Souvenir 2, Found plastic, crochet  © Vanda Campbell 2012

Studio work - Souvenir 3, Found leather, crochet  © Vanda Campbell 2012

Studio work - Souvenir 1, Found wood, crochet  © Vanda Campbell 2012

All form, no function

Our culture packed stay in Cornwall continues with a visit to Barbara Hepworth's house and studio.  I think this is my third visit in as many years, but unlike some of the other gems in the mecca for artists that is St Ives, I am in no hurry to return.  The house is charming, and reminds me of both Kettles Yard in Cambridge and Hoglands, Henry Moore's home in Perry Green, but it is lacking soul.  It is hard to imagine it as it once must have been, bustling with life and creativity, as the sculptures, studios and tools are all gently being overwhelmed by cobwebs and dust.  I am sure the guardians of the estate would proclaim otherwise, but the whole place feels gently stale, and dead.  Even in the gardens, which I remembered favourably, her sculptures only succeeded in underwhelming me.

Barbara Hepworth Sculpture Garden, St Ives, Cornwall

I've thought about this long and hard, and am hesitant to admit my true feelings as her work is so well revered, but admit it I must.  I find myself increasingly drawn to the world of Applied as opposed to Fine Art, and think that, for me, the allusion to function, specifically function by, or connection to, the human body is essential.  A few days previously I visited the Newlyn Art Gallery to see Shezad Dawood's solo exhibition, Piercing Brightness.  The visitors book  wasn't all complimentary (the main complaint being painting on found textiles did not equal Art!), but I was instantly attracted to the combination of painting on vintage, quilted textiles.  The potential of a function (as a quilt, or cover) allowed me to connect with the work on a personal level.  And that, for me, is a vital ingredient.

Rock of Ages, acrylic on vintage textiles
Shezad Dawood 2010

Rock of Ages (detail), acrylic on vintage textiles
Shezad Dawood 2010