Working Methods: 'This S(c)eptic Isle', 'Childish Things' 6

All Images: Work In Progress: 'Childish Things', Salvaged Trundle Toys, May 2019

I'd really thought I might be done with these crippled toy sculptures last year, not least - because they're pretty labour intensive, and I'm still struggling to find storage room for the first lot.  Plus, I genuinely hoped that the undeniably Brexity subtext behind much of the 'TSI' project might feel old hat by now.  

But, since when has making art (particularly of this kind) been about doing the sensible or practical thing?  And, as far as the second point goes, all I can say is "Fat Chance!"  The fact that what may have started as a petulant act of national self-harming, now feels symptomatic of a much more sinister, and intensifying, far-right zeitgeist - makes it seem all the more vital to take some account of the whole sorry situation.  Ultimately, externalising one's anxieties has to be healthier than internalising them - I think.  Trust me, if this all, one day, seems like so much irrelevant paranoia - and to have thus been a complete waste of time, no one will be more pleased than me.  

But, for now, as the weather gradually improves, and the day-lengths extend, I find myself once more, out in the back yard - with abrasive paper, dust mask, and cans of grey primer.  You just can't tell some people...

Completed Sculpture: 'This S(c)eptic Isle': 'Childish Things 4 (Mistaken)'

'Childish Things 4 (Mistaken)', Salvaged Trundle Toy, Salvaged Cardboard Boxes,  Spray Enamel,
Acrylics, Paper Collage, Official Notifications, Gas Capsules, Adhesive Tape & French Polish,
90 cm X 81 cm X 57 cm, 2018

Amongst all the stacking of cardboard boxes to create my ‘Sentinel’ sculptures, over summer – I also found time to put together the fourth of my ‘Childish Things’.

‘Childish Things 4 (Mistaken)’ had lagged a bit behind its fellows, largely because of the time it took to prep. and achieve anything like a presentable paint finish on its scuffed plastic bodywork.  Anyway, I got there in the end, and it was indicative of the serendipity characterising this whole phase of work, that - just when I needed it, I found a sturdy box large enough to support that white lump, whilst also balancing it well, visually.  In fact, there were actually two of them – the other providing a plinth for ‘Childish Things 3’.

I don’t buy the idea of a sentient ‘Universe’, but if such a thing were presiding over our affairs, it would seem to have mostly smiled on this first concerted foray into sculpture over recent months.  As a mostly two-dimensional artist (to date), it’s easy to overlook how much of a sculptor’s [1.] time is spent sourcing materials, solving constructional/technical issues, fighting the laws of physics, and just plain laboring.  I think I can regard myself as fortunate that, while making these pieces, most things fell into place fairly easily, without too many practical frustrations.  I actually got some kind of result with each of the sculptures I set out to make this year - which definitely feels like a reason to be cheerful.  I’ll let others decide how artistically successful I’ve been (or if indeed, it was at all worth it).

As before, there are various questions one might ask, in an attempt to interrogate ‘4’ for possible meanings or interpretations.  Of course, they are really for the viewer to ask, but some that occur to me might include…

• As with the other ‘Childish Things’, this vehicle is clearly going nowhere fast.  Does its parlous state indicate that the wheels really are dropping off?

• And, if that is true – might it be the fault of rough terrain and treacherous conditions, or is it down to neglect or faulty manufacture?

• Perhaps even more dispiritingly – could it have been deliberately sabotaged?

• The jolly yellow triangles and plasticised notifications, borne by untaxed vehicles are a common sight in many streets nowadays.  Must we assume this is another?  If so – was it laid-up as a result, or penalised for a SORN infringement?  At what stage in that process was the missing wheel removed?

• What might this say about our nation’s ability and willingness to fund its public services and infrastructure through tax-raising?  Is there a correlation between the rutted, pot-holed tarmac that threatens everyone’s suspension, and the number of untaxed vehicles beside the pavement?

• Are those tax-averse motorists waging some misguided, Clarksonite fight for personal ‘freedom’, on political/philosophical grounds, or just selfishly trying to duck out of paying their communal dues?  Alternatively – are they simply reliant on a vehicle to commute to a job that doesn’t pay enough to cover the running costs?

• If it’s an offence to remove an Untaxed Vehicle notification – is there a penalty for salvaging already-detached ones from the gutter, to apply to a sculpture?

As I post this, ‘Childish Things 4’ (along with its fellows, and accompanying ‘Sentinels’), is already wrapped, in advance of exhibition.  Shaun Morris, Andrew Smith and I will be installing our show, ‘Visions Of A Free-Floating Island’, at Surface Gallery, Nottingham in a week’s time - ready for our Opening Event on Friday 14 September.  We’ll be up for two weeks, including three Saturdays, so, if you’re in the Nottingham area, and want to see what all the fuss is about or yourself – you know what to do… 

[1.]:  Let's face it - 'Sculpture' is a bit grand a descriptor for what I'm doing here, really - isn't it?  I guess, if anything - I'm acting as an assembler ('Assemblist'?) really.  Do any of these distinctions even matter any more?

Completed Sculpture: 'This S(c)eptic Isle': 'Childish Things 3 (Misdirected)

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)?

Completed Sculpture: 'This S(c)eptic Isle': 'Childish Things 1 (Misled)'

All Images:  'Childish Things 1 (Misled)', Salvaged Toys, Spray Enamel, Salvaged Cardboard Boxes,
MDF, Acrylics,Paper Collage, Adhesive Tape, French Polish & Salvaged Gas Capsules,
78 cm X 52 cm X 88 cm, 2018

After what feels like a long, hard slog, and a couple of teasers on here along the way – I’ve finally completed the first of my sculptures under the ‘This S(c)eptic Isle’ banner.  It was always my intention that the project should be a multi-media enterprise, but I couldn’t have predicted at the outset – just how sculpture-heavy it would all become. 

In the past, I always regarded myself as a painter (or variety of), although I have also come to recognise how important photography (and latterly - screen printing) have also become within my overall practice.  Until now though, the third dimension appeared to have largely eluded me.  Actually, though, that’s all a slight delusion.  I’ve learned to accept that, regardless of which medium I might employ, my root instinct is probably that of the collagist.  I have an urge to construct, and my habitual process is an additive one, in which separate elements are fitted together, layered, or even just piled up.  Looking back, I realise how, periodically in the past - wall-based pieces have made the transition from something illusionistic – to something with materiality and physical heft.  At various points, I’ve had a tendency towards the collaging of physical or found materials – or to produce the kind of relief-based pieces that I’ve often thought of 2 ½ -dimensional.

However, this is the first time I’ve really tangled with fully three dimensional, free standing pieces, and with all the 360 degree thinking, constructional issues and submission to the laws of physics that implies.  True to form, none of my current efforts employ anything like the classic sculptural techniques of carving, moulding, etc, (or even much in the way of complex fabrication – truth to tell).  We’re definitely in the realm of salvaging, repurposing and juxtaposing the detritus of the street here, with Robert Rauschenberg, et al being an obvious referent (no surprise to any regular readers).  I suppose there is also a pull-able thread through Rauschenberg (and indeed, his compadre, Johns), back to the Duchampian Readymade, although my own impulse is to spruce-up and renovate my found items far more than Duchamp ever did.  My urge to intervene, to shape, and to refine, remains pretty strong - it seems.  Would it be too grand to even suggest a yearning for some degree of alchemy here?  What does seem evident is that my found elements act as carriers of more specific (and probably far shallower) potential meanings or interpretation than the more abstruse philosophy seemingly attached to Duchamp’s.

Anyway, ‘Childish Things 1 (Misled)’ is the first of my current abandoned toy pieces, all of which will combine discarded or abandoned sit-on toys with cardboard boxes (there are other wholly box-based pieces also currently in production).  As I’ve mentioned on more than one occasion, these are both key motifs within the overall ‘TSI’ project, as well as being plentiful and familiar components of the street trash strewn around my own neighbourhood (and possibly yours too?).

As implied, a certain amount of intervention has been applied to both the toys and the boxes, elevating them a little beyond their raw, found state – whilst hopefully retaining their core essence.  The scooter and trike frame were both found in a damaged, incomplete state, which is key to both their abandonment, and their relevance to me.  A little extra suggestive extra damage was also wrought upon the blue scooter.  Both were subsequently stripped down a little further, cleaned up, glued solid - then spray-painted in their uniform colours.  The boxes on which they sit, each contain a rigid MDF carcass, whilst their surfaces were treated with washes of acrylic, paper collage, gummed packing tape and French Polish.  The aim here was to inject an element of nuanced artifice, whilst hopefully retaining the recognisable essence of the boxes as they might be encountered in the wild.  I’m still debating with myself how much all this relatively subtle (but labour intensive) effort might actually be a form of ‘cheating’.  The top-dressing of discarded nitrous oxide capsules was a relatively late decision for this piece, although they do recur through the project as another recurring motif.

And the possible meanings of all this?  Despite my comments above, I do prefer to allow the viewer to find their own interpretations.  The work is also fresh enough, and the current events to which it might relate – fluid enough for my own thoughts about it to still be in some state of flux.  Here, however, are a few leading questions which may be of some use…

• Is it really possible to look at toys, without reading them as symbols of childhood?  If that’s the case – what might their abandoned and damaged state suggest as we pick our way amongst so many wandering pavement orphans?  What does it imply about our regard for our dependents, or indeed – for the future they must inherit?  Has Youth really been abandoned or betrayed?

• Might the toys also signify arrested development, an infantilised populace, or a society whose assumptions and aspirations rarely elevate themselves beyond the juvenile?

• What do the rapidly fading colours, low-grade and U.V.- assaulted plastics, and shoddy manufacturing of such products, say about our consumerist priorities?  Were they ever really fit for purpose if they break so easily?  Could it be that built-in obsolescence is really a most appropriate condition - given the fleeting nature and novelty-fixation of youth?

• If ‘This ‘S(c)eptic Isle’, as an overall project, constitutes some form of highly subjective ‘State  of the Nation’ survey - what insights into our current socio-political situation might be divined here?  How important is it that both of these vehicles lack sufficient wheels to carry them forward?  What impasse or hazard caused the blue scooter’s steering apparatus to bend so acutely? Is it significant that two vehicles so resolutely pointing in opposite directions have become so entangled in derelict immobility?  Where, if anywhere, could they even go, if forward motion was possible?  How deliberate is the choice of their colours?  Do they simply reflect the components of our national rag – or are they emblematic of something more tribal?

• Is there any currency in the old hackneyed cliché of ‘Broken Britain’?  Who, if anyone, thinks it is broken – and what do they gain from the proposal?  If it is broken – who broke it?  Was it a cynical act, or merely childish neglect? 

• Are the legends ‘Bankers’ and ‘E-lite Style’, printed on these boxes, deliberately selected, or a mere chance conjunction?  Do such things feed your appetite for political analysis or conspiracy theory – or do they strike you as merely trite?  How vital is serendipity to the creative process anyway?

• If that all suggests more than a little disillusionment – maybe we could all do with a laugh.  But where might that be found at a time when news events and perceived reality deliver more terrifying absurdity than any satirist or professional humourist could ever muster?  Perhaps we can purchase or purloin our hollow giggles in capsule form.  The silver bullets littering our gutters suggest that many now do