I’ve been on a quest
for the immediacy
The moment here.
The breath, the whisper
In the space between
The whisper of wind is unseen.
A visual artist makes visible
the invisible senses?
The hidden things
in between the spaces.
Other world faces
Water floods and
fire takes to the sky
an elemental maelstrom
A sparkle in your eye.
I have been thinking about The Whisper
Whispering is defined as speaking very softly using ones breath instead of ones vocal chords.
This makes sense of the phrase “the whisper of wind”
Which, in turn, explains my sense that a whisper can touch, tickle, and stir movement in your state of being the way that wind can touch the skin.
Push mightly in gusts
Blow out the cobwebs
Play with your hair
Chill you to the bone
I tense myself against autumnal winds
Go giddy in the summer breeze at dusk
In all these ways the breath can speak to the body
The wind can carry sounds
but it’s touch and impact is below sight
experienced with all the senses
or not noticed at all
like the whisper
‘the underground’ momentum
of the invisible river
on which I sail my boat.
The energetic shock of yellow was out in full force last night. We welcomed at least 80 students, staff, and friends to a PV finale on Thursday evening. Karen Wood had made yellow striped bandannas marking out the quadruplet who would descend upon her red black and white tape installation to rip it up and down, removing it from the walls (video here). It was a very fun way to end the project with our visitors.
I’d like to think Karen’s invitation gave our visitors the chance to experience art work as a moving thing not a fixed point in time and space.
scattered to the wind
thank you Karen @kbwoodnews
for the playful invite
To set the double yellows
to fly with us
Prancing new lines
across the floor
Circling @kz1y19 to talk about inside/outside
Wearing old lines
That lifted us up up
and dragged us down down down
Like birds on the thermals
The excitement in the air
invigorates me too and still
it’s memory fresh
the vision new
Sometimes I just let the words flow without knowing what I’m saying. I was reading my poems and I found this phrase: zeitgeist non grata. I had to google the two words but was rewarded with discovering the combo is related to dissent.
Lust and vigour
Heart based realisations
Pulsing through the cut
Warmth reaches where
Before was cold
And new life stirs
From its dream filled
Every era has prevailing trends and world views specific to that culture. We often internalise the voices and stories of our cultures and conform to them. The forbidden, taboo and undesirable gets suppressed Inside and identities emerge around our idea of our approved place in the world…
New work on show at Winchester Gallery until Friday 6th December.
Featuring conversational poetry
between Maija Liepins and Sarah Misselbrook
Week 4, Thursday
I’m thinking about how being present with the work adds to the art experience when people visit. I’m thinking about what reliance on ‘wall text’ removes from the dynamic in an art gallery. So far, we have no wall text describing the work. This exhibition is one in which people sit on the floor and chat, quite naturally and without being asked. It’s not one where they circle the gallery and read the walls. Every day is different.
One of the first things I find myself saying when people walk into the laboratory is “feel free to ask us questions!”
And if they look a bit uncertain about what they are looking at, I explain how dialogue is part of this process and we are interested in their impressions and responses too.
Yes, their impressions are more important to me than whether they ‘understand my work’. What I think I’m trying to say can change day by day, such is an artists life – this artist’s life? – I want to know what they see and think and there starts the conversation, there emerges the excitement of a meeting of minds (worlds).
Two students, came together, Sun and Hailee. I told them about Rapunzle when they asked, and the time she shaved her hair off.
Sun noticed that I’d left a needle hanging from the bottom of the basket and how it seemed to create a connection with the lilypad underneath.
He told me about the Chinese legend of the Monkey King, whose mother put him in the middle of a Lotus and floated him down a river and he was adopted by The Goddess of Mercy.
(I think Sun is looking the name up on his phone in the above photograph as he later showed me the Chinese – English translations.)
on why dialogic process is important to me.
A peek at my WhatsApp chat.
When the artwork is invisible, happening in the dialogue in ‘the space between’ how do you share it?
By writing about it and talking about it I suppose.
But most importantly by demonstrating it.
No, by being it.
The lived experience of art in action…
Maybe it remains a private thing, until the seeds of a dialogue spout and take root in our lives. There is the creativity I am most interested in.
A couple of weeks ago I asked Sarah Misselbrook if she has a photo of herself with her shaved head that I could use.
From this, came the following idea:
For almost a week we have been exchanging messages at approximately 8.00 every morning – just a couple – echoing, diffracting, multiplying, inspiring.
New work on show at Winchester Gallery
Featuring conversational poetry
between Maija Liepins and Sarah Misselbrook
[17:01, 11/20/2019] maija:
Rapunzle: I shaved my head to communicate that I didn’t need saving
Sarah: I shaved my head as an act of rebellion. To shed or rid myself of a traditionally ‘feminine’ attribute in order to avoid the prescription of beautification and adornment.
One of the beauties of this project is the element of surprise. Kimvi and Clarisse (previously referred to as YoYo the Observer) were in the gallery after hours last night.
I later got a call from Kimvi to inform me that I might not like what she had done with my work. Nerves and excitement on both sides!
The gallery is always changing at The Laboratory of Dissent.
When you pop-in you get the chance to see the work evolving, influencing one another, thinking process laid bare.
Yesterday was demanding and today will demand more of me.
(show up, show up anyway?)
I wrote this morning a stream of consciousness, and I find that although it was inspired by an everyday encounter and not this project specifically, I notice the themes I am exploring have weft and wove throughout my perception and provided metaphors with which to express the experience.
There is a conflict between Inside and Outside,
Rapunzle’s tower feels so tempting today:
Anger burns up the walls
from the furnace of my heart
Come close and the flames will lick you
yes, Dancing in the fire
That’s my idea of a good day today.
Alchemy transforming the elements at my borders
New crystalline mementos…
not gargoyle heads
not medusa heads
not lion heads
not papyrus or paint pots
flowers! yes, flowers
Blooming like the night lily
on the border between sky and pond.
There is a conflict between inside – outside.
Do I keep up my walls
and perform, stoic as a buttress?
Do I dress myself in crocodile’s
in a moat bordering my childish upswell
with a warning snap to give me time?
Time to feel
Time to think
Time to respond.
Aha, see, there is the conflict
Truly I don’t fare well alone with my thoughts
Alone with my words
Alone with my ideas,
Running round and round like stale bread in tin.
There is the conflict:
How easy it would be to withdraw from the not me,
the not wanted, the not cool,
Paying the price in rigid conclusions
and stony constructions encrusting my mind with
a labyrinthine resolve to protect my ideas of self and other
Suspended like a moth in a specimen glass
Against my instinct
I need the outside, the other, the
input battering my keep
with the energy and colour of a summer rain
creating rainbows in the autumnal chill
The phenomena of intra-action
The entanglement of multiple beings
Be-ing in this life
The place between this Inside mood
and Outside pull tugging at my skirts
like twenty cubs, or a vigorous wind.
How many mothers, parents, sisters, brothers
feel harassed by the pull of other world desires?
Two worlds meet in the space between.
I don’t really desire solitude,
just a place to stand where I can be;
Be one of many on the lily pads
Drinking from the top and bottom
of an ecosystem that supports me
My visit to the gallery this week was on Thursday. I missed the turning to Winchester three times, because I was thinking so deeply about the possibilities that awaited me there. When I finally turned into the carpark I encountered three artists with boxes and bags and tumbling words. It has been a joy to have a space to come to and this Thursday was special because there were many of us in the gallery together – all at different stages of install and exhibition – working it all out through dialogue. The spoken ones; the internal ones; and the embodied ones, as we physically moved ourselves and our objects through the space, discovering light and shadows, layers and connections.
with Sounds and Seaweed
Tina Sanchez’ sculpture is a delight to be with – do come!
Shadows on the wall an #unplannedresponse
What I enjoyed most about my time in the gallery this day was my conversations with our visitors, mainly students and staff who stopped and sat with us – clustered round on the floor.
I’m not sure that sitting and crouching on the floor is normal gallery behaviour, but something about the layout and the happenings had us land and plant roots into the floor: gathering at and amidst the installations and workspaces to talk about our own ideas and objections, and to exchange creative ideas.