My text for The Survivalist Series publication produced to accompany The Survivalist Series, a series of commissions by artists invited by CAAPO to explore what the term ‘survival’ might mean. My text was written in response to my experiences creating Dead Reckoning for the Series.
I had made a small number of works on the theme of Survival before I was commissioned for The Survivalist Series. On those occasions I chose a more conceptual approach, with works exploring the survival of a building and the survival of artists during the age of austerity. For the Survivalist Series I decided to approach the idea literally (at first). That is not to say the work didn’t express certain ideas about the survival of art and artists, it just wasn’t where I began.
I began by researching actual survival techniques with a view to using one of them as a method for generating a sculpture. I looked at map reading, trap building, shelter building, fire making, sourcing food and water, and also at the more extreme end of survivalist culture, with bunkers and stockpiling weapons and food. This yielded a number of interesting possibilities, but the one that particularly stood out was Dead Reckoning: an outdated method of estimating your position on a map based on how long, what speed, and what direction you have travelled. This method has the inbuilt potential for compounding errors; you may not travel in an exactly straight line and your speed may not be constant. Each time you calculate your position you may be drifting further and further away from where you think you are.
Posted by RichI’ll be honest from the start here and state that I’m not really a sports fan. However, when it was announced that the Olympics were to be held in London I was quite pleased. I thought it really exciting that they would be held in the country - and city - in which I lived. As it got closer things started to change; stories surfaced about suggestions that those that live in London should consider moving away for the duration. Seriously? I’ve lived here for over ten years - the Games are happening in my town and you want me to go away? Terribly patronising adverts appeared at stations suggesting that you should work from home or travel to work a different way because of all the expected travel chaos caused by the massive influx of Games-goers. There was also an odd feeling of ‘London won’t cope’ permeating through the media.
As it turned out it coped fine. My partner, who has to travel across the city to London Bridge Station to get to work, saw no real change in the quantity of people, merely in the type; more confused, lost people.
This all put a downer on the build-up to the Olympics, and before it had even started I was getting a little tired of it. And I’ve realised why this was; because it wasn’t the Games themselves. I was tired of seeing all the guff that surrounded the Games: the Orbit, I feel, is a shockingly bad piece of public art. McDonalds was the Official Restaurant? Carling the Official Beer? (We have so much great brewing in this country and you choose Carling?) The big-business tax dodge furore (that was campaigned against and thankfully beaten mostly into submission). I was suffering from severe corporate fatigue and it seemed to be eclipsing the Games.
But then they began, with Danny Boyle’s excellent, surprising, cheeky opening ceremony, and it seemed to kick things back into shape. It was the events and the athletes that were important, and this seemed to have got lost in the build-up. I actually started to enjoy the Olympics, feel quite proud of how well Team GB were doing, and also really get into the great performances from all the nations. There was, of course, the inevitable hyperbole that riles me - commentators describing people as gods and waxing lyrical about how unworthy we are to gaze upon this being and we should fall to our knees in his/her presence etc. but that’s only a small complaint amongst what appeared to me to be the entire country getting behind and supporting this small group of dedicated, skilled and talented people.
And that’s when I started to think about the parallels between artists and athletes. A small group of dedicated, skilled and talented people? Sounds familiar. Sounds like artists. When you really think about it athletes contribute as much to society as artists do. The end results of our endeavours amount to ‘achievements’ - you have run faster than everyone else, you have painted a more beautiful picture than everyone else. These things are subject to various contexts and standards but what we have is a person doing something to the very best of their ability. And this thing is useless in itself other than for the sake of the achievement and the emotion which it can elicit from those watching. Great joy was had watching Mo Farah win the 10,000m - it was exciting, tense, suspenseful and beautiful. It could be great art? Usain Bolt is an event in himself and people want to watch he does. Similarly in the Paralympics Oscar Pistorius and Ellie Simmonds, among many others, provided thrilling and joyous moments.
Now don’t come back at me with the argument about how much money it brings in because that is a ridiculous and demeaning concept. The worth of sport and art is not in how much money it generates: Jessica Ennis’s heptathlon gold is not worth however many Big Macs and Carlings were consumed during her events. In the same way, an experimental piece of theatre is not worth any less than a Shaftsbury Avenue musical - even if all the people that go to that musical buy lots of snacks and novelty souvenirs from the surrounding shops.
The question I am asking is that athletes seem to have a pretty good level of acceptance among the general public yet artists seem to be less well-liked. Why? Both groups have devoured public funding, with the Arts Council only spending a fraction per year of what it took to put on the Olympics, yet people can’t wait to line the streets and scream with joy as a bus rolls past containing Team GB. I’m not saying I want that level of hysteria for artists - that would be silly - but I am intrigued as to what it is that sets us apart? Why is one activity seen as good by a vast majority, and worth all of this time, effort and money purely for the sake of it, and another less so? Perhaps it is about the contest; beating the other competitors and the other countries? The only parallel I can think of would be the various biennials that occur around world, or Documenta and Skulptur Projekte Münster, and although prizes are awarded at some of these events it doesn’t really grab the international interest like the Olympics.
What is it about athletes that captures the imagination, and can we, as artists, harness this somehow and bend public opinion in our favour?
Posted by RichI came away from OpenAIR with mixed feelings. On one hand it was great to see a whole load of AIR members all eager to find out how we can help one-another and how we can affect change for artists for the better. On the other hand, it was confusing and seemed to lack a clear direction.
The speakers were excellent - it was a really good idea to get non-artists who specialised in engineering change to give us ideas about how to motivate ourselves and other people. However, it would’ve been good to hear from the AIR council about what they were planning. Admittedly part of the day was about trying to find out what we wanted them to help us with, but even that seemed a little rudderless: our break-out session apparently had a theme (or themes) but these were never really made clear, and some of us felt confused as to what it was we were meant to be discussing. When mentioning this we still didn’t really get a clear answer and it felt like we were talking around a subject as opposed to about it.
What were we trying to affect change for? Artists face so many problems - many of which aren’t purely artist’s problems but problems faced by many in the current financial climate. Points were raised about whether we were focussing on being artists solving problems for artists or artists working more generally for the greater good (a notion I think genuinely worth pursuing).
As usual I didn’t really think of what I wanted to say until afterwards - I had so many half-formed questions buzzing around my head that never really amounted to actual responses at the time. I left feeling like I hadn’t really taken full advantage of the event - I could’ve asked more things, I could’ve suggested more ideas. I do have a view on the situation but I feel that I haven’t worked it out yet. Perhaps I should’ve taken Carrie Bishop’s advice and not wait until it is all resolved, polished and packaged, but share it now because you think it’s a good idea and you’re excited by it - and then through sharing you can resolve any problems or stumbling blocks.
So what’s my idea?: I’m interested in how we can change people’s perception of art through the art itself; make a case for the importance of art by making art itself more important. This would involve (I think) a significant, but slow, alteration of how art is presented and perceived. I get the feeling today that there is a general slump in the quality of culture - at a later date I’m planning a large rant about the dangers of nostalgia, the proliferation of ‘photographers’ and the problems with the term ‘artist’, but that’s a whole other thing. To cut it short: I don’t think art does itself many favours at the moment. There are a lot people calling themselves ‘artists’ that produce work which creates ammunition for the ‘art is a waste of money’ brigade. I’m not saying that this work is not necessary or important - I don’t believe in censorship of the arts, I don’t believe in telling people what they should or shouldn’t make and how they should or shouldn’t work - but sometimes you are shooting yourself in the foot by making work that, rather than challenging people, physically puts them off art.
One of the delegates said ‘Artists think differently’ - I disagree with this and I think this is also a dangerous route for artists. Everyone thinks differently. The danger lies in perpetuating the idea that artists are ‘different’ and ‘special’. If we continue this I don’t think that we can overcome the particular prejudices that cause people to be negative about art: that it is not for them, that they won’t understand it, that it is a waste of money. Artists are just people who, like many other people, can be very dedicated to what they do. By setting ourselves apart to such a degree we risk appearing like we want special treatment, which in these straitened times is also going to make people wary of our value.
Can 17000 artists work together to create work which makes a case for art? We don’t really have to change what we do that much - just bear in mind how our work is perceived and work cleverly to instill something within it that adds another weight to the scales to tip the balance in our favour.
As I mentioned earlier this idea is not fully formed, but I think it’s got legs.
Posted by RichText from my talk at AIR Salon at Core Gallery on 13.06.11.
Download the PDF.
Some of the text has already appeared in Modes Of Practice.
It was a very good night with lots of stimulating conversation.
My text for ‘Modes of Practice in an Age of Austerity’. A talk and workshop looking at what artists can do to survive the cuts.
PDF version.
In the Observer this weekend there was an article about a new gallery with a slightly different approach to the dealer/artist relationship. The approach is not necessarily new (it harks back to the days of patronage) but could it provide support for artists in this age of austerity?
First of all I want to point out that I don’t begrudge the artists involved for taking this opportunity - to be offered an amount of money that would allow you to just be an artist sounds like a great way of nurturing talent and helping to develop careers. My problems with this system are as follows: Patronage, at least historically, requires some kind of reciprocation. Monarchs and religious leaders would patronise artists and in return they would paint or sculpt the works that best serve the ideology of the patron. Great works were created through this but they may not have always expressed the true views of the artist. The article makes it seem that the reciprocation here is financial - I’ll give you money and in return you make things that will sell. This also bothers me. The work is still being guided by the feeding hand, the artist is possibly not free to pursue their work in any form they wish. Or, to approach it from another direction, the gallery will only select artists whose work fits this sales model - eliminating many artists from even being considered. What they are also saying is that the only value that really matters is the financial.
Watch this short clip of Stewart Lee discussing arts funding cuts:
I think he has got a point about art having ‘an inherent value in and of itself’ and this is what we should be fighting for. Towing the line of making work that sells is, as Lee puts it, ‘engag[ing] on their terms’. Are you making concessions to the financial market that are at odds with what you want to achieve artistically? Are you agreeing that the only value your work has is that which it can be sold for? Of course some artists do make financially viable work that satisfies their creativity. What I’m arguing for is the freedom to not have to adjust my practice to make it commercial. Can a hedge fund billionaire see it in his or her heart to give artists patronage just because they like good art? The return from this would be good art - art produced in a creative environment free from constraints. Good art is a benefit to society, and I don’t just say that as an artist who would like to be able to make a comfortable living from his own work, I say it as a person who feels that if he couldn’t go to galleries, theatres and cinemas to see the work of people who make no compromises to follow their vision then I would probably give up. The message I would be receiving from such a safe and middle-of-the-road culture would be ‘don’t bother trying’. And if every artist gave up trying then culture would suffer. And if all art were produced through rich benefactors paying artists as production line workers then culture would suffer. It would be the X Factor of art.
If culture suffers then society suffers. We will always need new ideas, thinkers and creatives. This does have, as Lee states, an ‘intrinsic value… that has a trickle-down effect’ on society - high art informs low art, high fashion informs high street, and the inspiration is also reciprocated as ideas switch back and forth freely. To live in a society of culture controlled entirely by financial value is to live in a society that has given up.
Posted by RichEssay about my practice and art in general during the ‘age of austerity’.
Download the PDF
It was delivered as a talk at INTERROGATION: West Bromwich - a month-long project exploring the impact that artists can make using short, sharp interventions in the public realm.
UPDATE: An edited excerpt was published in a-n magazine in November 2010.
I heard my harshest criticism at the private view of Collusion on Thursday night.
I was taking a few photos of the work while people were milling around and noticed that there was a very bored-looking little boy sitting on the floor between the projectors. I think he was about 10 years old.
‘I’m bored. Can we go now?’ He said.
‘Not yet, be quiet.’ Said his mother. She was studying the work quite intensely.
‘I’m bored! You said there’d be a light show?’
‘This a light show, look at the projectors.’
‘It’s not, it’s boring!’ He waggled his knees and flopped his head side to side.
‘Why don’t you try looking? Try using your imagination?’ His mother asked.
‘I have looked. There’s a door, there’s a door, there’s a door and there’s another door. There’s four doors. I’m bored!’
I must try harder.
Posted by RichI wrote most of this shortly after the Turner Prize was announced and then I sat on it for a bit. After re-reading and amending a few bits I decided to post it:
I don’t normally feel that i have to justify my work, or art in general - my aim is to try to make the work speak for itself. However, the recent Turner Prize exhibition (featuring Goshka Macuga, Runa Islam, Cathy Wilkes and winner Mark Leckey) and ensuing (lack of) controversy has urged me to write something in response - particularly in light of the usual kinds of comments from a certain popular newspaper. things like: ‘ART ????? Looks more like a load of unmitigated trash to me.’ ‘How many of these ‘artists’ can actually draw or paint.. ?’ and ‘I haven’t washed up my lunch time crockery yet…..think that would be worth £25,000????’ I would like to address each one in turn:
‘ART ????? Looks more like a load of unmitigated trash to me.’
I assume this person is referring to Wilkes’s work. This is not criticism - it is an opinion. And a badly made opinion at that. There were various other comments about artists dumping ‘a random assortment of items around a room’ and calling it art. I would like to know who really thinks they know exactly what art is? What does art look like? Even as an artist myself I don’t claim to know what art looks like, I can’t always recognise it (sometimes I think something that isn’t art is?) - I don’t think it always has a look. I also take offense at the generalisation that ‘random’ items are dumped around a room. From what I saw the items were very carefully arranged - often in pairs or with a visual relationship apparent between forms, colours and possible uses. This view that it ‘just looks like trash’ suggests to me that these people do not bother to look at things carefully, they do not bother to take a little time and most certainly know very little about art, about the many different ways it can be made and the many different ways of looking at it, understanding it and enjoying it. Even if you come to the conclusion that you don’t think it is very good, at least respect the fact that this is someone’s work. They have given time, thought and energy producing this. You have given nothing in return but a throw-away remark. (Pun optional).
‘How many of these ‘artists’ can actually draw or paint.. ?’
Art does not start and stop with drawing and painting. Whether you can draw and paint or not does not decide whether you are an artist or not. I would agree that a certain amount of skill at something is necessary, but this something can also be knowing what colours can do to the eye and mind, knowing how to build a room in such a way that it conveys your desired intention upon those who enter it, or knowing exactly how far apart to place two items. An artist can be a person who organizes things and people in order to achieve an end. Being an artist is being someone that makes things happen, and these things in turn affect those that experience them. You don’t have to be able to draw or paint to do this, you just have to be able communicate.
‘I haven’t washed up my lunch time crockery yet…..think that would be worth £25,000????’
This demonstrates an immense lack of understanding. Much of what often makes something art is intention - sincere intention. You might have just done exactly what Wilkes did and put a pair of jam jars side by side with a battery standing up in each but this does not make you an artist. And it’s not because you didn’t do it first either. If you are thick enough to think that doing what an artist does makes you an artist (and worthy of a prize) then you deserve to be outraged. Making art is a careful process - even if the final work is executed quickly there is much development, practice, trial-runs, thinking. Yes, thinking can be work. The Turner Prize does not imply that the work is worth £25000 - it is a prize. You do not win a prize for not doing the washing up (unless the competition is about who is laziest). The prize is awarded to an artist who has made a significant contribution to art in the previous year. The exhibition is representative of that year; it could be one piece from it or many. This attitude really annoys me. Art is worth something - it is the product of work, it takes time, and there is an intrinsic value attached to a person’s creativity. But, according to certain people, only certain, established, art can be worth large sums of money (and only up to a certain amount too; the question of how this value is arrived at is a whole other piece of writing). The people making these comments don’t really seem to be able to make a value judgement other than ‘I don’t understand this, therefore it must be worthless’.
What I feel these kinds of people fail to understand is the purpose of art, it’s relevance to culture and society. Art not only responds to popular culture (particularly in the case of leckey) it also creates it. The visual languages used by artists have a trickle-down effect on the visual language of society and culture as a whole. The way everyday things look is influenced heavily by the things that are exhibited in white-walled galleries and other art spaces. Designers continually look to works of art for inspiration. TV shows reference artworks regularly. Mostly I hate the lazy attitude. People often complain that art is elitist, that it is difficult and impenetrable. To this I say ‘yes, it is. And it should be.’ If it was easy it wouldn’t be art, it would be a soap opera or a stuffed toy (although these things can be used by artists). What I mean is: art requires work on the part of the viewer too. You don’t have to be a scholar, a historian or any kind of expert, you just need to be open-minded, read a little and give the work a little time.
The next time you see a super 8 movie of a woman tipping a china cup off a plinth just spare a moment, think about why it was made, how do the images affect you? If you don’t like it think about why? Don’t just dismiss it, and above all don’t think ‘I could do that’, instead think ‘Why aren’t I doing that?’
Posted by Richi dreamt that we had robbed bank. or a train.
we had our getaway all planned.
we had a big lorry full of loot that we were going to drive to a hanger, put all the stuff on a plane and fly away.
it all went wrong though.
the police were in hot pursuit (why is pursuit so hot?)
when we got to the hanger it wasn’t quite how i remembered it.
the plane was on the roof?
we crammed as much stuff into our rucksacks as we could manage and climbed up onto the gantry that ran along the wall.
the ganrty was very narrow with no railing.
to get to the ladder that led to the roof we had to cross the narrowest part.
there was no way we could do it with our bags, but we didn’t want to give up our loot.
so we sat there, five metres above the police and their sharp-shooter teams. the hanger filled with spinning lights.