27 February 2011
At what point...
05/Mar/11 15:26 Filed in: Museum of Possibilities
There is so much to celebrate from the exhibition at the Royal West of England Academy. However, today I am totally cream crackered, I have given my all, which obviously is far from sensible. The themes were supposed to be about reveal and conceal, but on reflection it was a bad idea to have a seminar on participatory arts on the last day of the show. Because on reflection, all that could be evaluated most obviously, was that the artist in question had lost the plot to remember any structure in the information presented. OMG I am now thinking I should have been OBJECTIVE at that stage. Instead, I found when I got up to chat about my way of working, I revealed my heartfelt journey. But, in front of me, in the 'audience' there were some serious serious looking faces. Crikes, I thought, trying to remember how much laughter had been created over the months of my residency. I ploughed on balancing my minature tea cup whilst telling the story about how it all started. All I could see was the frowns, the worry, the brains, the suspicion, the experts. Oh well, I thought, as I whizzed around revealing links and associations to this and that... Whose voice is realised in this work? How much did it all cost? What was the selection process for the artist? How can you prove what lasting affects your project had on the folk of Radstock. Blimey, I thought, I had said I was up for academic critique, but stood there not sure of how to reply as I wound up my porcelain anniversary lady with wings by Mary. Tinkle tinkle the fragile woman went, as I went paler and paler. Suddenly there was no playing, no lightness, no spirit of openness. Instead some interested enquiring individuals, plus some Professionals with tight boundaries and budgets to match. Sod it I rambled on till my lungs and thoughts collapsed. Tea break, I cried. Hmmm I looked around, everyone was happy chatting and stirring. That's ok, its all about conversations I thought sagely, whilst longing to be on a silent retreat. Subsquently, more piercing questions continued, whilst I was wondering how to collaborate with the lovely red haired lady who said she wanted to get corsets into the community and my project of dressing up was inspiring. Hmmmm, I thought, sounds good to me. Next minute some museum gentleman cranked in with his concerns about me creating books and overdoing things, so was there extra dosh, which got me going on the subject of artist's generosity. And yes, it was a seventeen residency which I had managed to transform into about three months intense focused work, and I said my Christmas dinner did catch fire. I said, I believe that if the artist is generous and enthusiastic, participants are generous, from the community, to supporting institutions, agencies, other creative practitioners. etc. Then someone else piped up, I think you are doing social sculpture, raking over people's imagination. Was I, I wondered? Phew I thought, this business of playing is hard work. A rather pinched faced lady then piped up again about the subject of evaluation and PROOF. Maybe she was the same individual who wrote on the evaluation post it's, "A what point does dressing up, become art". I wish I could say at this point that it is THE END, but it obviously is only the beginning.