Canvas body,
4.11.20 - 22.11.20
4.11.20 - 22.11.20
Please scroll down for 22.11.20 Stuffing in action
Concept
I decided to make a canvas body to interact with my recent steel sculpture, Body cage. There are obviously certain issues about combining steel with textiles and I have also reflected here about clean and dirty processes and materials.
I have been experimenting with the way that Body cage is rusting so thought it might be interesting to put a canvas body, like a blank canvas, on or in the sculpture, outside. Will the rust leave marks on the canvas? How will the elements affect it? How will the fabric deteriorate? Might animals and other wildlife interact with it and consequently also mark it?
I sometimes find that I am drawn to processes that involve a change in control, which then dictate the final outcome of the work, so this would fit well with that approach.
I have been experimenting with the way that Body cage is rusting so thought it might be interesting to put a canvas body, like a blank canvas, on or in the sculpture, outside. Will the rust leave marks on the canvas? How will the elements affect it? How will the fabric deteriorate? Might animals and other wildlife interact with it and consequently also mark it?
I sometimes find that I am drawn to processes that involve a change in control, which then dictate the final outcome of the work, so this would fit well with that approach.
4.11.20 Drawing my outline
Using the whole of my body in my work seems to be becoming more and more important in my work. For this piece, I asked my son, this time, to draw around me lying on a large piece of canvas on the sitting room floor. Setting this action in a domestic space, and involving my child was a necessity as I have no studio space at Uni for this module and also I'm going in as littel as possible because of the virus. Frankly, it's also much easier to do my stitched work at home as everything is set up here and I have my stash to hand. I think these unavoidable choices add some poignance to this action, though. It feels like a kind of reversal. My son bringing me into being, drawing me on cloth... That's probably rather fantastical, but the idea did appeal to me. It was also oddly intimate, maybe slightly uncomfortable too. This idea is not new to me. I asked my partner to draw around me to make the forms for my steel bodies in the last module, MF7003, using poses from my Body cocoon performances. Look at 9.11.20 Whose body? for more reflections on why I use my body as a template in my work.
Naturally, a line drawing of me doesn't capture the three dimensionality, bulk and bodily-ness of my body and even stuffed and stitched I become rather flatteringly slender!
Naturally, a line drawing of me doesn't capture the three dimensionality, bulk and bodily-ness of my body and even stuffed and stitched I become rather flatteringly slender!
20.11.20 Cutting, stitching and stuffing
Cutting
Here, I was exploring the idea of cutting as drawing, so I set the canvas on my bed. The canvas has my outline drawn on it in a more conventional way, with pen. As I cut myself out, I documented the process at each stage. My workspace is very limited at home as several of us are working here at the moment, so my sewing machine and table are set up in our bedroom. The bed makes a useful surface, but maybe it also adds something to these images, as it's so clearly a bed and thus has associations with the body and domesticity. The contrast between the canvas and the duvet cover, the figure/self portrait which emerges gradually, gives the impression of something coming into being; an act of creation. How different this would be if I did something similar against a plain background? If the pandemic allows, maybe this is something I can explore further for my next module, in the photography studio.
Stitching
As I was stitching the canvas body together I was struck by how funny the form looked as I moved it around to move it through the sewing machine. Limbs flailing, contorted body; it made me think again of the act of creation of life, of Frankenstein and his monster. It was as if it were coming alive. I was intrigued, so I began to take a photo each time I moved the cloth and then made this short stop motion video. I wonder if this is an idea I can explore further? It also links in with the understanding I now have of the performative nature of my making, how my whole body is involved and whether I should explore my making process further as explicit performance?
It struck me that these 2 simple canvas forms being stitched together give an illusion of being alive, despite the fact that they are a very naive body shape. It is cartoon-like, but also the figure seems to come alive in my hands. I find that fascinating.
It struck me that these 2 simple canvas forms being stitched together give an illusion of being alive, despite the fact that they are a very naive body shape. It is cartoon-like, but also the figure seems to come alive in my hands. I find that fascinating.
22.11.20 Stuffing in action
I consequently decided to take more photos as I was turning it inside out and then stuffing the sculpture. Each time I put the form down as I was making, I took a photo. I have to confess that some of them are contrived as I was trying to capture how the form seemed to begin to come alive as it moved.
I'm especially pleased with this second stop motion video, but both have potential, I think. At the moment I see them as sketches, potentially for something else. I'm wondering about booking one of the photography studios at Uni and doing the same thing, but more carefully against a white background. Or maybe I could use a green screen? I also wonder whether arranging for me to be filmed doing it might be interesting too. My body grappling with my clone? My shadow? I have been very struck learning metal and mould-making skills how the whole of my body is involved in many of those processes. I had thought that just my hands were involved in my knitting and stitched work (and my mind, of course!) but cutting, stitching, turning and stuffing this figure has made me realise that actually my whole body is involved here too.
I am imagining a videoed performance of me grappling with my doppelganger. Maybe from its inception, the drawing of my outline on cloth? That would make it clear that it's me. Or maybe just the turning and stuffing? It makes me think of Peter Pan and his recalcitrant shadow. Or could it be my dark side? Or my ego that I'm struggling with? I'm now thinking of a schematic: Me dressed in black with my black avatar against a white background? Two shadows? But black is hard to photograph.... I need to try out different options, I think.
I am however now wondering whether my body actually needs to be visible? I am a reluctant performer and hate seeing myself in photos and videos. Is my body implicit in its absence in the videos above? It would be different with my actual body in the piece, but maybe more interesting without me. How about 'The artist is absent?' as a potential title?
Setting both these videos on my bed is poignant. We're part way through the second Coronavirus lockdown in England and, although the University is still open, I have no studio space for this module. Setting a gendered, domestic process (stitching with a domestic sewing machine) in an intimate domestic setting (my bed) changes what we are seeing. Does it add a sexual element? Agony or ecstasy? It will certainly seem very different in a neutral space.
I am imagining a videoed performance of me grappling with my doppelganger. Maybe from its inception, the drawing of my outline on cloth? That would make it clear that it's me. Or maybe just the turning and stuffing? It makes me think of Peter Pan and his recalcitrant shadow. Or could it be my dark side? Or my ego that I'm struggling with? I'm now thinking of a schematic: Me dressed in black with my black avatar against a white background? Two shadows? But black is hard to photograph.... I need to try out different options, I think.
I am however now wondering whether my body actually needs to be visible? I am a reluctant performer and hate seeing myself in photos and videos. Is my body implicit in its absence in the videos above? It would be different with my actual body in the piece, but maybe more interesting without me. How about 'The artist is absent?' as a potential title?
Setting both these videos on my bed is poignant. We're part way through the second Coronavirus lockdown in England and, although the University is still open, I have no studio space for this module. Setting a gendered, domestic process (stitching with a domestic sewing machine) in an intimate domestic setting (my bed) changes what we are seeing. Does it add a sexual element? Agony or ecstasy? It will certainly seem very different in a neutral space.
Here are the stills:
Studio views of canvas body, partly stuffed, 1.12.20
I wanted to take some photos of my canvas body against a more neutral back ground so I took it into Uni. It becomes quite a different object, I think, even against the stained, scuffed floor of the studio.
Naturally, a line drawing of me doesn't capture the three dimensionality, bulk and bodily-ness of my body and even stuffed and stitched I become rather flatteringly slender! But this sculpture becomes a generic portrayal of everybody/nobody/anybody/somebody, and there are also elements of disembodiment in it. I was there, it was me being drawn around, but I am no longer there. The artist is absent?
It isn't yet finished, ie fully stuffed with the opening in the side stitched closed, but I quite like it like this, unfinished, empty, uncanny, abject, floppy. Maybe it emphasises the absence? I'm not sure how to proceed with it so I shall wait....
I transported the sculpture in a body bag, as is my practice, and couldn't resist taking photos of the sculpture inside the bag. The artist is dead? There's more about body bags here.
Naturally, a line drawing of me doesn't capture the three dimensionality, bulk and bodily-ness of my body and even stuffed and stitched I become rather flatteringly slender! But this sculpture becomes a generic portrayal of everybody/nobody/anybody/somebody, and there are also elements of disembodiment in it. I was there, it was me being drawn around, but I am no longer there. The artist is absent?
It isn't yet finished, ie fully stuffed with the opening in the side stitched closed, but I quite like it like this, unfinished, empty, uncanny, abject, floppy. Maybe it emphasises the absence? I'm not sure how to proceed with it so I shall wait....
I transported the sculpture in a body bag, as is my practice, and couldn't resist taking photos of the sculpture inside the bag. The artist is dead? There's more about body bags here.
Check out images of a trial assemblage, Canvas body plus Constrained, 1.12.20, this stitched body with bands of hammered steel and also Canvas body plus Jennifer James' soft sculptures, 1.12.20. It's useful to see this sculpture in different poses and settings, and out of my domestic space.
