I was interested to become more performative in my exploration of infinite scroll and screen usage.
Taking a handful of paper clay, I shaped it roughly into something that would fit comfortably in my palm, and then began ‘scrolling’ it with my thumb, as I would a phone screen. The effect of this gesture on the wet clay was like a carving out of a groove that fit my thumb – i could have continued this until the block split into two, but I chose to let it remain a singular object. The grip I maintained while scrolling was also changing the shape of the clay, so that it became a rather strange form.
I decided to repeat this, now using a rectangular form similar to a phone itself. It was interesting here to see the ‘rippling’ at the base of the thumb groove, and the warping effect on the underside of the shape from the grip/scroll exercise.
We were introduced to different glazing techniques once our works had been fired to biscuit. I chose not to glaze the first object, feeling that it’s ‘rough’ appearance was in keeping with its abstract form. I was keen to explore a the application and removal of glaze and under glaze to achieve a warped sheen/reflective appearance on the phone artefact though. This has been somewhat successful, and has made the rippling effect of the clay seem almost like bodily mutilation of an organic substance (oozing) rather than a piece of warped machinery.
This repetitive motion carving out a form reminded me of a work I recently saw at the Dora Maurer exhibition at Tate Modern. This involved a girl performing a ‘parade’ with her feet painted red, walking in a circle over paper and scrumpled newspaper. Her repeated walking painted a circle and stamped down the newspaper to a pulp.
I think I like the destructive, irreverent and playful nature of this work. For a child to be performing this repetitive act in a fairly sedate and controlled way is an intriguing contrast to the tone of the work itself. The red paint is now only suggested by the red fabric the photographs are now presented on, the black and white images themselves instead more akin to the newspaper she had walked on. I like the very obvious agency that we see being demonstrated in the work. I am intrigued why the artefact of this performance was not itself seen as an artwork (or if it was, why would it not be preserved?).
I was interested to explore in greater depth the notion of ‘infinite scroll’ (something I touched on in my previous post on this project). I began exploring ways I could bring this to life, first in representations of infinity in physical form. I first explored mobius strips, which are like a 3D infinity symbol. I found in constructing them though that rather than create that figure of eight form (though that could be seen from some angles) I had more of a twisted loop. I think if I had shortened the length of my paper I may have gotten this effect more distinctly.
It was interesting to run the days of the week with their related screentime along both sides of the paper that I then formed into a mobius strip – meaning that now the sequence is neverending (it runs from Sunday back into Monday again). This had been explored by M. C. Escher, where he made it seem ants would be walking on this structure indefinitely (below).
But I was interested to explore more of the motion inherent in this scrolling on screens (particularly in social media). That the scrolling would be going on ad infinitum was interesting to explore. I therefore experimented with producing a perpetual motion machine. Generally however, this is considered to be an impossibility (at least in terms of the laws of physics on earth), since there is no way to ensure the perfect conservation of energy to maintain the motion indefinitely, without loss to heat etc. One of the more famous instances of a proof that such a machine would be impossible, is that of Leonardo Da Vinci. I sought to emulate his design to test this for myself.
I liked that the turning motion of the wheel simulated a physical scrolling motion (relating to the cylindrical object that the scrolling motion on a digital screen is named after). The final object I produced still retained the internal segment holes that were created as part of my experimentation with the Da Vinci design – I felt that the story of my experimentation was an important part of it, demonstrating a scientific process in improving the length of motion, and also the impossibility of it being infinite/perpetual.
On my first walk, I encountered fencing that separated two college car parks in the centre of town, which when layered with the gate of one of these car parks, produced an interesting grid form.
I wanted to explore this structure and so produced several studies, exploring the negative space and outlining of this form. I think the cut paper is particularly effective here with field-ground effect.
I decided it would be most interesting to focus the eye by enlarging one section of this image/simplifying the structure. I chose the mid-right section of the upper grid as this held an interesting combination of the two layers, and a symmetry in the gaps of one to give a uniform kind of pattern.
Having done this I was also interested to outline my leaf sketch also – I was concerned that my work was taking me further away from the nature that had interested me so much in the second walk and wanted to see how I could continue with this theme also.
I was truly surprised to find that the two forms showed a great similarity when I overlay the tracing paper. Striking especially in the primary diagonal and the bisecting verticals in the top right of the image. This, like the composition repeat that I observed in my photography, suggest that my mind is unconsciously replicating patterns and drawing me to these without my knowledge. I’m still not quite sure what to make of it!!
Mondrian, in his first forays into abstraction, was seeking to simplify the form of a tree into geometric line. This is a fascinating project that he undertook, where he gradually became more and more abstracted, and one that is now used in machine-learning. He later went into pure abstraction, without recourse to objects in the world.
I’m interested to understand whether the fence-work itself has in any way been inspired by the proportioning/structures witnessed in natural forms – or is it purely coincidental that this should be observed now? Unfortunately St Peters college does not have information on the gate for it’s fellows car park online (!). But from my desk research, it seems that this is not a style of gate that is currently widely available (it would be a bespoke piece) so it is likely these gates are somewhat historic, though the modern design makes me think it is likely 20th century. The rust evident indicates iron or an iron alloy, though whether this is cast, wrought or rod I am unable to really say. Similar styles of design describe the pattern as either chevron or diagonal box section, and claim it to be an especially sturdy design owing to the diagonal supports, with no mention of the aesthetic itself. As such I think it may be more coincidental that it resembles the natural leaf form, though it is hard to conclude!
Below I experimented with masking tape, to gain a clean line for my grid system. I originally intended to cut away the edge so that the ends would not be visible, but in removing the tape, I found it tore away some of the edging of the lines, and that the ends of the tape produced an interesting tear, which juxtaposed with the uniformity of the lines and the strong black squares. I like the stark contrast of the monochrome here making the grid jump out. I am interested in exploring other masking approaches.
I decided to experiment with the form in the way I had done previously with crayon/wax resist (i.e. sectioning a piece of paper and completing several instances at once). I explored different marks and organic forms here, though I found the bottom right the most satisfying (where I quickly made expressive marks to form the grid). I continued this expressive form in various colour palettes using soft pastels, experimenting with the layering of the grid systems in different colours.
On one of my walks, I was interested in drawing, and drawing with, natural forms and materials. This began with an interest in the trace I was leaving through my action of walking, the impact I was leaving – my footprint.
I then proceeded to print my muddy footprint on pieces of paper that I had brought with me, using different types of mud that I found around me (varying in their viscosity). Here I prefer the clearest print – the one from the path itself – and I feel this most clearly represents the impact of my walk. I enjoyed using the surface on which I was walking as a material in itself and transposing this onto another surface. It felt a fitting way of capturing the moment. I chose then to experiment with drawing one of the leaves I had been stepping on in the mud, using the mud itself. I used a dipstick to achieve a linear sketch, and printed the leaf itself. I found it interesting how similar the linear structure of the leaf came out in the print and my sketch.
This exploration of structural forms in nature, and their linear form, is interesting to me. Most interesting for me in the printing is how it reveals hidden forms that might otherwise be missed by the eye – particularly in the pine cone above. It was also interesting to see the transition of the printed image from when saturated with ink to after several prints – the big contrast and interesting silhouetted shapes created in the saturated images are very abstracted and intriguing I think.
For this 3 week project, we were briefed to take a walk to a specified random dot on a map of Oxford, adopting the dérive (drift) strategy. We were to capture our walk and repeat it as often as we liked to gain a broad variety of experimentation.
I chose not to use my usual means of finding directions – using Google Maps on my phone – and instead used my instincts to direct me to the point on the map I had been given. For good or ill, I was familiar with the route I might take to reach it directly, since it was the main route into town and then the train station, which I had done before though never in one go. So for the 1st undertaking, I did not drift so much in the route taken, as in what directed my attention. I hoped to capture many different things on my walk to potentially explore further.
I was interested to observe the different surfaces I walked upon, the noise levels in these different areas and the kinds of marks and detritus I might encounter in these different spaces. Walking along a tree-lined main road into more urban city centre in my 1st walk, and then in parkland, surburban residential roads and towpaths in my 2nd (when the ground was considerably wetter). It is also interesting how my pace varies according to the gradient and the stage in my walk. I attempted to transition the shots by matching up the point in my gait and the foot with which I am stepping, but the video did not always line up, with my foot exiting or entering at different heights in the frame.
During my 1st walk, I wrote words I encountered as I walked – to enable this I used an A6 notebook in order to most easily note them on the move. This included words I thought to describe the walk (most evidenced at the beginning of the walk), graffiti, signs, notices and advertisements that caught my attention (most prevalent in the city centre), and words I happened to overhear from the conversations of passersby.
I also quickly sketched things that I took a particular interest in – this varied from symbols to ironwork and water pumps to the cracks in the pavement.
Reviewing the notes I made now the words are sometimes humourous in their decontextualised state. For instance, the conversational words of passersby and colloquial language used by shop signage to entice foot traffic in store are easily confused. Can you tell which is which?
"Oh hello pop in don't be shy" "Rohan, it's what's inside that counts" "See you later" "Ruby says chill!!" "Yeah it's basic stuff mostly" "Do you know where you're living next year?" "How good is your hearing?" "I'm getting something from Tesco" "What's going on..." "I haven't had any blackouts which is nice" "So hard" "Over the next few weeks..." "No it's not even that"
Below are a series of photos that I took with my phone on this walk (I had not been briefed ahead of the day so did not have my camera with me). I am interested here in a number of themes – pavements surfaces, ironwork and filigree, quirky animals, graffiti and signage, the colours yellow, black, blue and stone. The final image, of a yellow building with white pillars, stands where the dot on my map was placed.
In collating the above gallery, I noticed that three images mirrored the same composition, and were also representative of the beginning, middle and end of my walk. This was quite accidental but I find it interesting that I repeated this action with a pedestrian the focus of each, the pavement tailing into the distant with the horizon somewhere to the centre right of the frame, a tall wall to the right of it guiding our eye.
Ahead of our first session, we were provided with a brief to collect data about ourselves over 7 days that we would be visualising over this 3 week 3D project. I chose to record my use of technology by clocking the time I interacted with screens over this period. I made use of the Screentime function on my iPhone to log my phone usage with great accuracy, and manually logged my use of the computer, TV and other screens (e.g. on the treadmill) as best I could.
The results of this proved to be both intriguing and mildly horrifying. Overall, screentime accounted for almost 39 hours in my week – equivalent to around a quarter of my total time in a week, or more than a third of my waking hours in a week (assuming 8 hours sleep per night).
The first session clarified further the task ahead – to create 30+ maquettes visualising our data with different materials/techniques. We were introduced to some artists who had either been involved in data visualisation or in 3D pieces that could have been adapted to serve in this way.
First, we used paper. I found it tricky to move beyond a straight graphical representation of the data and get beyond the 2D of the paper itself.
The infinite scroll is an element I am interested in exploring further – the mechanism used by social media apps such as Instagram and Facebook which meanas a you never complete/reach the end of a feed and could scroll downwards on it forever. I learnt about this feature in an episode of Abstract on Netflix with one of the Instagram designers, Ian Spalter, who cited this as his biggest regret. This study was simple in construction – the paper leant itself easily to this shape – and i extended the length by sticking multiple sheets together. I like that you could potentially unroll this piece and discover how long it goes for, but the fact it does have an end may undermine my intention? I could relate the length specifically to the length of time on an average day spent on my phone.
The other paper work, where I carefully measured the 2D areas to represent each proportion of my time to scale, may be more accurate to the purposes, but I found the exactitude limiting. It was only in the larger non-screen time I found myself becoming more engaged in the creative process. I tore the paper into individual strips which I then scrunched and stuck back together in striated layers. The idea here being that time spent away from screens enables the greatest degree of freedom. It was interesting that Sarah considered the non-screen one as a piece in itself, and commented on its brave construction. Perhaps it could act as a visualisation of that free time alone?
In the afternoon we moved onto paper clay. While we could have explored its materiality akin to paper (once rolled and allowed to dry a little) I was more drawn to its very pliable putty-like texture and in working with it in this way.
I used scale again here to explore the comparison of data within context of use. The two screen/non-screen proportional pieces are pleasingly simplistic. I like that with the balls you are drawn to holding them and weighing them in your hands, and did wonder about constructing a weighing scales to demonstrate this too. The pie chart comes across like a cheese wheel which I find quite amusing.
The 3 screen models appear quite surrealist to my eye, with the phone so outsized (while the tv and laptop could work together quite reasonably). I like that in fact the phone could believably be true to life scale, and then in that sense the TV and laptop actually the surreal scale.
I enjoyed most the tactile making of the thumbs though. I used the natural wrinkling of the clay as it was compressed to evoke the creases in the skin, and found it pleasing to be moulding a thumb using my own thumb – and using the nail of my thumb to create the thumbnails on them. That there are 7 is eye-catching (where we might expect a set of 5) and when collected in this way it is difficult to identify them as thumbs (where you would usually only have 1 in a set!). So playing with people’s expectations here is quite fun. Also, how they stand up from the base makes them appear as though coming out of the surface – a little creepy to my eye, especially since I had them all bent as though mid-scroll. The size of them relates to the length of time spent using screens in each day of the 7 day period, so is in effect a bar chart.
This was an example of using the thing itself to identify the thing, which we saw being used to good effect in journalistic data visualisation. I think this is more akin to illustration, where the data is telling us a story and the visualisation lends itself to communicating part of that – using visual shortcuts to aid understanding. Mona Chalabi (data editor at Guardian US) does this to good effect. I came across the below piece in the Beazley design of the year exhibition in the Design Museum in London, relating to this blog post on the Guardian website.
The fact she has used actual people within a gallery to signify the people who are and are not represented in modern galleries in the US is really powerful. First because we can ‘read’ the data quickly – that predominantly white males are present within the foreground (here being used metaphorically as those who are foregrounded in the art world – who is brought to our attention). In doing so she has made use of the classic Fine Art conventions of perspective in history painting I think to evoke the sense of tradition and out-datedness of the modern art world in how it has done this – the romanesque arches in the gallery emphasise this. It’s also particularly powerful I think because it humanises these underrepresented artists by actually painting them as simple silhouetted figures. It is too easy for statistics and data to dehumanise and cloud our understanding, while dehumanisation is especially problematic when we are considering populations considered to be ‘outliers’ or minorities (i.e. women, non-white races and cultures). The key is in cuing empathy – showing the human impact of data, as the numbers are usually all too easily swept under the rug (as the infamous quote below highlights). I found this article in the Guardian particularly interesting on this subject.
The death of one is a tragedy, the death of millions is just a statistic.
Over the half term weeks I enjoyed taking a break and slowing down the pace of my practice. However I still found myself eager to engage in research!
So I started reading this book I had taken out of the library – a heavy tome so I am still only part way through – and have been really captured by the characters Mary Gabriel introduces from the New York art scene in the 1920s onwards. I was moved to read the book to pursue a deeper understanding of Lee Krasner (whose retrospective at the Barbican this summer I had been bowled over by), but too in hopes of learning about the other 4 women the book biographied who were also innovators within the Abstract Expressionist movement (and regrettably overlooked in the art history): Grace Hartigan, Elaine de Kooning, Joan Mitchell and Helen Frankenthaler.
(Below: works included in the Barbican Lee Krasner exhibition – I found the gestural quality and sheer scale of her work breathtaking)
I have found it particularly interesting so far to understand more about the context of the inter-war period for American artists, their sense of being onlookers from the European art scene that dominated, and the driving need for these artists to pursue abstraction. For Krasner, this was greatly guided by her tutelage under Hans Hoffmann.
You cannot deny yourself. You ask, am I painting myself? I’d be a swindler if I did otherwise. I’d be denying my existence as an artist. I’ve also been asked, what do you want to convey? And I say nothing but my own nature. How can one paint anything else?
Some other quotes contained in the book have been notable too
I found that I could say things with colours and shapes that I couldn’t say any other way – things that I had no words for
Painting or poetry is made as one makes love – a total embrace, prudence thrown to the winds, nothing held back
Though I find this contextual background really interesting, I wish that it was accompanied with greater emphasis on the works they produced. I suppose I would like this to be an exhibition of its own (though it would need to be a really big one!!). I am interested to go and find works in the flesh for each of these artists (I know of a Krasner in the Tate Modern but I wonder if there are others in the UK, or of these other women?)
Anyway, I was inspired by reading about these intrepid women to experiment for myself with expression. I have til now adopted a swooping style not unlike that of Krasner (though perhaps more akin to a doodle). As yet I have not ventured into paint or proper layering, only sketches thus far as I feel I need to refine the vision before doing so.
I experimented here with using my left and right hand simultaneously to generate this gestural mark, with graphite first, then with willow charcoal. I am interested by how they differ between my hands – the left hand marks seem more erratic, staccato feel – almost vibrating with energy. I like this frenzied effect and I think it is to do with the strongest/most defined lines being straighter, more repetitive and generally within a similar axis/plane. Contrastingly, my right hand marks are more concentrated and looped, though not exactly restrained. For me, here the energy seems constrained instead – caught up inside itself. I think this perhaps reflects more of the intention I had had but it’s interesting that I find the left hand marks more pleasing. Altogether I think the charcoal most effective
I was keen though to try a different expressive technique (one that I thought of when lying awake one night). I conceived that this would involve rotating my arm through almost 270 degrees – starting behind me and swooping over my head and down onto the paper. This was to deliver some force in the contact with the paper, and also to some extent eliminate my control over the mark. Using this forceful hitting also seemed something that could be rhythmic and expressive – not necessarily violent but certainly with an element of physicality to it.
I was surprised by the tailing of the strikes on the paper. I especially like the indents of graphite that can be seen in the paper, and the contrast between the tone of the struck marks and these tails as I lift the graphite back up again. As I had seen in the Chance workshops (in dropping pieces of paper) some order did seem to be produced, as the marks appear to cluster and be heading off together towards the top right corner. They remind me of tadpoles or perhaps sperm, certainly life potential, which is interesting as I had not anticipated this connection (though in reflection now I notice how ‘alive’ this experiment made me feel).
The action itself felt freeing and I was keen to continue experimenting. Here again I tried to see if there was a difference between the marks of my left and right hands. I saw here that the left handed marks were less clustered, less ordered, with greater diversity in the marks made. Again here, I prefer the effect of the softer charcoal, and I am intrigued by the use of colour with this technique, as I think it evokes a vivid liveliness that is not communicated by the charcoal alone.
I am interested to move these experiments into paint, though I am nervous about making a big mess. I think it would be really interesting to try hitting a field of wet paint to see the effect of the impact in this reversed sense.