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| All Images: 'Childish Things 3 (Misdirected)', Salvaged Sit-On Toy, Salvaged Cardboard Box, MDF, Acrylics, Paper Collage, Adhesive Tape, Junk Mail & Discarded Gas Capsules, 130 cm X 98 cm X 57 cm, 2018 |
Posts have been
pretty sparse on here of late (for which apologies), as the hours devoted to my
current body of ‘This S(c)eptic Isle’ work, grow ever longer. I’m not really complaining though. The blessed school holidays, and long days of
what has turned in to a truly epic British Summer, have allowed me to get out
in the yard and complete most of my proposed sculptures already. This can only be a good thing - not least
because it’s all destined for exhibition at Nottingham’s Surface Gallery, along
with the work of Shaun Morris and Andrew Smith, in mid September. That show will be entitled ‘Visions of a Free-Floating Island’, and
I will, of course, relay the specific details as our preparations
progress.
Anyway, here’s
the third of the ‘Childish Things’ pieces, based on abandoned toys - titled, ‘Childish Things 3 (Misdirected)’. Technically, this one follows the same
pattern as its two predecessors, which you can read about here, and here. It comprises the same combination of salvaged
toy, cardboard box (with internal MDF carcass), paper collage, junk mail and
gas capsules, and I’m sure you can pretty well deduce the construction methods
just by viewing the pictures.
The red trike is
perhaps the most pleasing toy so far, being essentially complete. In fact, a first glance might lead you to ask
why this one was discarded on the pavement at all (back axle issues - for what
it’s worth). You might also question to
what degree I have actually intervened to further compromise its functionality
- until you look again at the steering set up.
Just as with the other vehicles in the series – this trike is going
nowhere fast (other than in futile circles).
The socio-political implications of that are for the viewer to decide,
but I don’t think we’re in the subtlest realms of satire here really – are
we? Other questions which could arise in
this case, might include…
- Given the trike’s inability to progress in a straight line, is it more likely to turn to the left or right? If the only real possible course is in fact a circular one, does it really matter? Under these circumstances, might not the outcome be ultimately the same - whichever way it turns?
- And given the impossibility of meaningful progress, what purpose does that push-handle serve. It suggests some form of pressure might still be exerted from above. If so - by who, and to what ends? Is theirs a guiding hand or a driving force?
- Children expect to be impelled by their parents, but where exactly are they being directed? Do the old really know the best way forward, and whose interests do they really have at heart?
- We’re all familiar with those glistening capsules of spent giggles, glistening in the gutters - but from whence do they originate? Are they purchased legitimately, or do they exit premises through back doors and under counters? Do they fall from the backs of vehicles, or become diverted in transit? Who delivers them? Is laughter really the best medicine?
- What wider narratives might be constructed from the endless slew of unsolicited mail injected into my home each day? What clues does it offer about our collective hopes and dreams, and is there anything to be gained by pausing to actually read any of it on the short walk to the recycling bin?
- Seemingly, most of the correspondents just want to satisfy my imagined hunger for pizza and chicken, or coax me onto their exercise bikes, to undo the damaged thus caused. But a few seem more concerned for my spiritual wellbeing, or eager to ignite my sense of injustice, or short-circuit my alienation politically? Should I be grateful that they’ve reached out to me? - or even more fearful of their motives, than I am of those of the pizza chefs? Should I worry that some even know where I live? - or that others covet my very home (and others like it in the area)?
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