Unit 2: Future of the Mind – research

In approaching this grid work, I knew I ought to investigate minimalist works such as by Agnes Martin.

Untitled (1965) Agnes Martin

I listened to an episode of the Bow Down Women in Art podcast discussing her life and works. It was interesting to understand the influence of Zen Buddhism in her work, which emphasises the need for mindfulness and meditation, and a sense of oneness. Though her works are perhaps a little too minimalist for my tastes, this set me down an interesting path of research, when looking for her work in a compendium of women artists in modern art. I came across the works of Eva Hesse here for the first time. I was interested here in her use of repetition to reveal naturally-occurring difference and iteration. This implies a sense of change and time for me, and the use of organic forms and materials was also interesting here. Her works for me seem tactile and invite a human spectator.

Repetition Nineteen III (1968) Eva Hesse

In looking further at her work, I discovered an intriguing article about Performativity in the work of female Japanese artists 1950-60s and 1990s by Yuko Hasegawa. Here I was introduced more deeply to the works of Yayoi Kusama, and to the instructional works of Fluxus artists Yoko Ono and Mieko Shiomi (who are also influenced by Zen), which I think are all relevant to the line of inquiry I have pursued in this project.

While I had previously been aware of the reflective/mirror infinity rooms of Kusama, I had not previously understood the context of her fascination with infinity and the dots which also pervade her work. The infinity nets series is a direct catharsis of visual hallucinations that Kusama experiences, which she has been afflicted by since childhood. Here polka dots cover her visual world like net curtains. By engaging with repetitive pattern and action she is able to gain balance in what might otherwise be an overloading experience.

No. F (1959) Yayoi Kusama
Infinity Nets (1951) Yayoi Kusama

These infinite repetitions and patterns seem highly relevant to my grid cell pattern work, and it could be interesting for me to explore building up layered work in the way Kusama has done with the thick textural paint in her No. F. It’s fascinating to me that she would be experiencing visual hallucinations which sound so similar to these visual navigation patterns I have been imagining, and I could hypothesise that she is actually just seeing this secret/hidden way in which our visual field navigates the world!

She also has explored visual infinities of self, and sense of the alter ego, in terms of the interaction of either herself or the audience within mirrored spaces. The duplication but also obliteration of the body by making it become one with the environment itself -> achieving invisibility. This reminds me of the phenomenon whereby repeating a word endlessly removes its meaning and makes it sound just as a series of noises. I think this could have implications for my future self-portrait work (which I have not yet had chance to write about on my blog!)

Instructional works interest me, for meaning that the outcomes of the work are unpredictable and unprecedented, something not controlled by the artist. Yoko Ono’s work is intriguing for specifying the destruction of a canvas or painting by burning with a cigarette, with the smoke produced being a part of the work. In displaying the work she would have the instructions and then the outcomes themselves, which I think is very intriguing.

The Smoke Painting instruction, Yoko Ono

Instructions were also used to good effect by Shiomi. I am particularly interested in her Spatial Poems work, where she sent letters to 100 people over the course of 10 years, coordinating a network of simultaneous events to take place across the world.

Events from the Spatial Poems (Word Event) 1965-75, Mieko Shiomi

It could be interesting for me to develop a set of instructions for others to recreate the grid and perform an interaction with it in any space. This could allow for all sorts of iterations to be created and explored beyond my own control which would be interesting.

Unit 2: 3D – Data Visualisation (pt 4)

I was interested in exploring the reflective qualities of metal sheeting as analogous to that of screens, in visualising my screentime data. I was shown offcuts of aluminium sheets that I could use to experiment with. Following the performative clay work I had done, I was eager to incorporate this again, and decided that manually hammering it over an anvil would be a satisfying process to try out. In this way I could again demonstrate the human-screen interaction and also something of the strong impact this has on our lives (for better or ill). This turned out to be really fun!!

I hit it 39 times, to reflect the number of hours of screentime over the 7 day period. The marks of the hammer I used here reminded me of those I had created in my previous exercise using pastels. I like how the surface of the sheet has also distorted somewhat from the force of the blows, warping it and the way the light reflects off it.

I wanted to experiment with a round headed hammer, to see if I could produce marks that were similar to a thumbprint, so repeated this. The effect reminds me of bullet holes/impacts in shooting targets, and gives an added sense of violence.

I chose to then fold the sheet twice, to give an approximate size and shape to a phone, and repeated this exercise.

I like the way that the concave shape (a byproduct of my process) draws the eye, as though a captivating screen itself. I used two hammer types here to produce a variety of marks and depths. I was interested in exploring the folds as marks in themselves, and of pure distortion of the screen, so focused on this only for my next sheet. Placing the sheet so that it overlapped the edge of the anvil, I brought the hammer down at an angle to bend it over the edge. I repeated this action in somewhat random orientations, to produce an irregular form. Much like the hitting, I did not want to create an ordered effect, but instead imply the violence/impact to our humanity of such interaction with technology (messy and unstructured), as well as the distorted view it offers us.

I repeated this with a larger sheet, so that I could produce finer distortions. The result resembled crumpled paper and I enjoyed that this suggested the sheet was more malleable than it was in reality, and that there had been a more manual process at play.

I enjoy the way the light reflects on these, producing dark and light regions and suggestion of texture (dappling, rippling, scrunching). The effect alters as you changed your position as an observer, which was also interesting, and if close up you do get a fragmented, blurred reflection. This reminded me of some interactive reflective works I have seen recently.

Below, a Yayoi Kusama work that I had interacted with at Tate Liverpool, whose appearance altered according to the external circumstances it was placed in, and the position adopted by the observer.

The Passing Winter, Yayoi Kusama 2005 – close-up photograph peering into one of the holes opening onto the mirrored interior (with reflective exterior)

And here, an installation from Tate Modern (in an exhibition focusing on participatory art ‘Performer and participant’). The use of the blue tape is intended to integrate the mirrors with the space in which they situate, erasing the difference between real and reflected space – so that our experience is not only of the work itself but the entire environment.

Edward Krasinski (first installed in this way in 2001)

These other works have not distorted the reflective surfaces themselves, but used the quantity and distribution of them in space to add variation, and the colour/light of other parts of the environment to add further depth. Both also use suspension of these to disrupt our expectations. I would like to think further about how my own distortion works might employ these techniques too for added impact. E.g. perhaps by projecting a digital screen interface demo onto them, suspended in a dark box?