Wednesday iiissssss...

...Crit Day! In which young artists share and discuss their work and ideas in the studio.
Today, one of the guys was showing (good job Neil), but I forgot to share that I presented my work (as well as one of my buddies) last week.
These are some snaps I took of the set up - I'm still going over them and am dissecting them in my sketchbook. I showed three objects - the ones on the white block - along with some foil/cellophane things-in-progress and a sound piece (also still in its raw stages - a good thing, I think, in a crit setting.)
For now, you can just peak at the photos and I'll do a better write up tomorrow (why do I always blog when I'm exhaauusted?)

Watch this space x

Documentation and selection - tricky stuff.

Ana Mendieta at the Hayward

In my last, last post, I added some pictures of my studio area: one of the photos shows two postcards that are currently sat on my mini desk. I bought them a couple of weeks ago when I was home (Essex home; proper home) for a birthday party and some gallery time. I ended up going to the Hayward with my lovely mummy, where there's an Ana Mendieta retrospective exhibition at the moment.

I've admired her work since I discovered her at college. We went on a class trip to Paris, where we of course visited the Pompidou Centre. I remember seeing a video projection of a naked woman, holding a flapping, headless chicken by its feet and I guess the rest is history. Out of context (or even in context) that might sound a bit scary. Really, the bulk of Mendieta's work is centered around leaving an imprint - a human imprint - on the land and a union between body and earth. Her Silueta series is a good demonstration of this.

Silueta Works in Mexico, 1973-77 (Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles)

The exhibition shows off her repertoire brilliantly - most of the presentation is photographic (as a lot of her work was outdoors and site specific, so documentation is really the only record) but there were some wood sculptures/carvings and lots of videos I'd not seen. There is also a timeline of her work in the final room, with vitrines filled with personal writings and contact sheets, showing her photographic selections. There were some framed leaves that she'd made small drawings on - I thought they were beautifully sensitive. Some of her more simplistic, symbolic drawings/marks hold thoughts about Mayan goddesses - all beautiful to see.

I even got to see the video with the chicken again.

The exhibition runs until the 15th December, so go take a look.

Starting as we mean to go on

Just a quick pat on the back for myself - since I pledged to blog everyday, I have been 100% successful in upholding those standards. I did only start yesterday, but that by no means detracts from the size of my accomplishment. Gold star.

I think I should probably extend my promise to also going into the studios early on Monday mornings - it is definitely the best time for work, in that there is no one else around. I scurried to Sainsbury's to buy two rolls of cling film, one roll of tin foil, flour and icing sugar, before returning to my space with a look of  glee. Proceding to unroll foil and cling film, I revelled in the material mass unravelling at my feet.
As far as my purchased powder elements, I'm currently trying to find a more cost efficient material than Johnson's Baby Powder (though it smells the best, by far) I'd also just like to see how these other options work on the cling film in particular. The icing sugar seemed to act in a similar way to the talc, which is what I was hoping for.

These shots are from today's studio 'play time'. (What? Art's pretty fun!)

Among the material excitement, I've been writing my dissertation proposal, which is due tomorrow morning at our first meeting. (I know what you're thinking, and no, I'm not using blogging as a tool to postpone work - it's already printed out. Second gold star.) I haven't quite formed my argument, but I have lots of interesting sources, just waiting to be called upon. In short, I want to write about art and memory; art and recall; art and the importance of remembering (pretty short). Something like that. Really, I just want to write about Cornelia Parker. I'll do a proper rant about how much I adore her work another time, when I'm not literature-ly exhausted (definitely going to coin that wordplay).

N'night x

Now it feels like home

The rain compelled me to stay in my corner, and a lovely corner it is.

"It was like pushing the walls outward with my hands. Now it has expanded to the horizon. To me, it is as grand as a power station."

Memory Palace, by Hari Kunzru

Sunday is the day

Today is a pledge - that I will make with my hand raised in a 'Scout's Honour' kinda' fashion - which I hope to uphold most diligently:
I, Sarah Laura Botha, will do my very best to create a post (content may vary) every day (until the imminent uprising of all machines against humanity.)

Okay, so maybe not the last part (although I do wonder sometimes...) but I really am going to make this commitment.
With any luck, this small pressure may give me the nudge I need to diligently pursue interesting artistic information and - ultimately - keep me thinking about what my future holds.

Isn't this just the most beautiful wall you've ever seen? 

Serious promise-making aside, it is currently the most beautiful autumn in Sheffield - just in time for Art Sheffield! The city-wide festival kicked off at the beginning of October, under the title Zero Hours. To check out what's going on, head to http://www.artsheffield.org/
Probably the festival's gem, Joseph Beuys' Wirtschaftswerte (Economic Values) is being displayed at Graves Gallery. My personal highlight, however, is a video/sound work by Mikhail Karikis being exhibited at Site Gallery. On his website, the desription says:

Mikhail Karikis has been commissioned to create a new work for Art Sheffield 2013. His new film Children of Unquiet features his collaboration with a group of children in Italy with whom he orchestrated a children’s “take-over” of the abandoned workers’ villages and the adjacent industrialized locations in the geothermal area in Tuscany known as The Devil’s Valley.

Children of Unquiet (from the artist's website)

For more information about his amazing body of work, check out http://www.mikhailkarikis.com/

That's all for now, folks x

Almost objects

Photographic documentation; cellophane and house paint, 2013

The other side of Sheffield

I've moved!

So, it begins (again)

At the end of the first year into my degree, I felt I had lightly begun to touch on the subject of memory through material and process. Over the year that has followed, this idea has played on my mind like a never ending carousel; over and over, it has plagued my thoughts, my process and my interpretation of material.

I cannot shake  it.

Seemingly unrelated, I began a part time job at the coffee store, Costa, three months ago. On a first morning shift, I noticed that the jam and marmalade served with toast portions were that of the Tiptree company - those miniature jars I'd seen in numerous other cafes. Ordinary.
It was just that I'd used them before - at the end of my first year - when I needed a vessel to hold a bath water sample for my final project. Something about their silver lids and my attraction with tin foil struck some sort of inner harmony when I had gazed at the transparent liquid, held in the tiny glass jar.

Unbeknown (at first) to my manager, I began collecting all the jars left in the kitchen and rinsing them out, instead of throwing them away. I started telling those who noticed that it was 'in case I needed them for art.' Even now, I'm not sure how many I took home in total, though I'd guess around 50. It wasn't for a while until I wondered what on earth I'd actually do with them.

Now, I'm still not sure, but I've begun to build an archive.

After each bath I've taken, (since about two weeks after I decided to keep the jars) I have taken one of my empty containers and filled it with a portion of the water.

I will keep doing this until I've run out of jars. Hopefully, by then, I will also understand something about the process itself.