8.9.20 Materials and meaning
‘the material is always also a medium and thus a part of the message. The materiality (his italics) of the art work can thus become the carrier of multiple cultural-historical and socio-political references,.’ (Thoss, 2014, P7)
I’m very conscious of the multiplicity and nuances of meaning that different materials can bring to a work of art.
As I’ve discussed here in more depth, knitting has associations with garments, comfort, domesticity and the body. It’s flexible, soft, impermanent; cloth surrounds us from birth to death. It’s unconventional as a medium in sculpture and has a number of femininities associated with it. Here, clothing yet unclothing, its drapes and folds reveal and conceal the inside and the outside of the sculpture and provide contrasts in colour, surface and form to the naïve metal skeletons and casts of my feet. Stitch has a different set of associations.
The new materials I’ve chosen to work with for this module have quite different social, historical and cultural links. I’ve chosen them deliberately to balance the femininities of the textiles I normally work with and to provide strong, and possibly unexpected, contrasts in concept, form, surface and colour.
Metal and mould making are both recognised as traditional media for sculpture, so they have associations with the history of art. Metal, on the other hand, is hard, durable and weatherproof, although, untreated, it will change over time. It’s attributed with masculine attributes. Metal surrounds us in our lived environment. It has a sense of permanence about it, protection.
Jesmonite is an aggregate of resin and plaster, which offers an eco-friendly and safe alternative to fibreglass, and provides a lightweight substitute to cast concrete. It’s durable, resilient, and sustainable. It’s hard but can be moulded and carved; it’s also fragile and would deteriorate if left in the elements. The colour of the Jesmonite also brings to mind the stereotypical image of Frankenstein’s monster as portrayed in all those film and TV adaptations of Shelley’s remarkable novel. Grey, decaying flesh. Probably the first ones I saw were in black and white. I think that the detail of the casts of my deformed feet, together with the colour I’ve chosen and that they are body parts, provokes a range of conflicting responses – their familiarity makes them uncanny, disquieting.
I had intended to use concrete, but was advised to use Jesmonite instead for this project due to my inexperience in casting, the complexity of the mould, time available, sustainability and the risk of my toes breaking! I struggled with this, in a way, as concrete is a much more authentic material, again ubiquitous in the built environment, with notions of grounding and solidity and built in imperfections and texture. My Jesmonite moulds are much lighter than concrete, which formally has benefits in terms of transport. It’s smooth and uniform in colour. There is something very uncomfortably appealing about them, but maybe I’ll try casting my feet in concrete next and see how that works. I think the range of colour and texture, some within my control and some outside of it, might also be very interesting. It might also provide more stability to the overall sculpture if the feet are heavier. I also can’t help thinking of phrases like ‘concrete boots’ and ‘feet of clay’…
It will be interesting to see how my viewer responds to this body of work and how meaning is amplified through the assemblage of these diverse materials.
Thoss, M. (2014) ‘Interwoven modernity’ in Frank, R. and Watson G (eds.) Textiles Open Letter, Vienna: Sternberg Press & Monchengladbach: Museum Abteiberg , p7
‘the material is always also a medium and thus a part of the message. The materiality (his italics) of the art work can thus become the carrier of multiple cultural-historical and socio-political references,.’ (Thoss, 2014, P7)
I’m very conscious of the multiplicity and nuances of meaning that different materials can bring to a work of art.
As I’ve discussed here in more depth, knitting has associations with garments, comfort, domesticity and the body. It’s flexible, soft, impermanent; cloth surrounds us from birth to death. It’s unconventional as a medium in sculpture and has a number of femininities associated with it. Here, clothing yet unclothing, its drapes and folds reveal and conceal the inside and the outside of the sculpture and provide contrasts in colour, surface and form to the naïve metal skeletons and casts of my feet. Stitch has a different set of associations.
The new materials I’ve chosen to work with for this module have quite different social, historical and cultural links. I’ve chosen them deliberately to balance the femininities of the textiles I normally work with and to provide strong, and possibly unexpected, contrasts in concept, form, surface and colour.
Metal and mould making are both recognised as traditional media for sculpture, so they have associations with the history of art. Metal, on the other hand, is hard, durable and weatherproof, although, untreated, it will change over time. It’s attributed with masculine attributes. Metal surrounds us in our lived environment. It has a sense of permanence about it, protection.
Jesmonite is an aggregate of resin and plaster, which offers an eco-friendly and safe alternative to fibreglass, and provides a lightweight substitute to cast concrete. It’s durable, resilient, and sustainable. It’s hard but can be moulded and carved; it’s also fragile and would deteriorate if left in the elements. The colour of the Jesmonite also brings to mind the stereotypical image of Frankenstein’s monster as portrayed in all those film and TV adaptations of Shelley’s remarkable novel. Grey, decaying flesh. Probably the first ones I saw were in black and white. I think that the detail of the casts of my deformed feet, together with the colour I’ve chosen and that they are body parts, provokes a range of conflicting responses – their familiarity makes them uncanny, disquieting.
I had intended to use concrete, but was advised to use Jesmonite instead for this project due to my inexperience in casting, the complexity of the mould, time available, sustainability and the risk of my toes breaking! I struggled with this, in a way, as concrete is a much more authentic material, again ubiquitous in the built environment, with notions of grounding and solidity and built in imperfections and texture. My Jesmonite moulds are much lighter than concrete, which formally has benefits in terms of transport. It’s smooth and uniform in colour. There is something very uncomfortably appealing about them, but maybe I’ll try casting my feet in concrete next and see how that works. I think the range of colour and texture, some within my control and some outside of it, might also be very interesting. It might also provide more stability to the overall sculpture if the feet are heavier. I also can’t help thinking of phrases like ‘concrete boots’ and ‘feet of clay’…
It will be interesting to see how my viewer responds to this body of work and how meaning is amplified through the assemblage of these diverse materials.
Thoss, M. (2014) ‘Interwoven modernity’ in Frank, R. and Watson G (eds.) Textiles Open Letter, Vienna: Sternberg Press & Monchengladbach: Museum Abteiberg , p7