(extra)ordinary objects: memory & narrative The Book by Under The Art House

(extra)ordinary objects: memory & narrative the book

edited by emily musgrave

Contents Introduction 5 (extra)ordinary objects

Andrew Bracey 19 Emily Connor 39 Michelle Forrest-Beckett 51 Medina Hammad 87 Emily Musgrave 103 Fiona Parkinson 119 Gerard Williams 135

Introduction The object we can’t throw away is a curious thing. Sitting in the background on a shelf overlooked in daily life, what makes this object so precious that makes it far too valued to let go of? What attachment and history do we attach to things that makes them so highly prized beyond everyday significance? Subjectivity points us towards the narrative and the relationship attached to the object, which signifies its association, granting its worthiness. Sentimentality provokes the owner to keep the object and leave it in a place of muted respect. Yet when do we discuss these prized possessions? Are they to remain secret? They are rarely brought up in conversation unless a visitor points out the oddly precious thing that sits proudly in a place of safety and unacknowledged glory. What is it about the owner we can learn from these significant possessions? Perhaps they once had a wonderful childhood trip to the seaside that is rarely mentioned but permanently glorified through the decade’s long ownership of the rock sitting on its shelf. Consider the ceramic sheep trinket clung onto as a physical reminder of a loved one’s life, to dispose of this object could be considered as akin to losing or letting go of their memory and a physical testimony for them to remain in our lives. (extra)ordinary objects: memory & narrative explores the possessions we keep because of sentimentality and circumstance to acknowledge and share these unconsidered, hidden or forgotten attachments to the memories of our lives. Seven artists have been approached to contribute an object to the exhibition through text, image or the physical object itself.

Each object has its own history and therefore is completely unique yet to the everyday eye could be totally humble and uninteresting. We learn something new about this person, whether itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s that they are inclined to keep objects at all or an event in their life that has not been explored within their practice. We often discover the personality and history of artists through their artistic practice, thinking that we know them completely if we know the theory behind their works. Yet there is many missing pieces to that jigsaw puzzle in the form of the possessions they keep and do not present to the world. Through interviews with each artist, we can discover the poetic sentimentality of the objects they treasure, revealing an undiscovered memory of the owner we have not been able to read about previously. Using St Mary le Wigford as the exhibition space to explore the nature of what significance our own life events play in the objects we keep, (extra)ordinary objects: memory & narrative celebrates the nature of why we hold onto mementos, placing what may be deemed as invaluable or mundane onto pedestals to reconsider their value and significance.

(extra)ordinary objects Barbara Hepworth’s cat is something that has cropped up many times during the research into the subject matter of this exhibition. In June 2016, I had a conversation with Dr Catherine George, in which we talked about the rationale for this project. While discussing objects that are influential in an artist’s practice, Cath retrieved a book off her shelf ‘Barbara Hepworth – A Pictorial Autobiography’ (Hepworth 1970) within the images of Hepworth’s works and studio were pictures of her cats. These cats were valued so highly that Hepworth included them amongst images published in a book that represented her body of work. This thought was the catalyst for the unknown narratives that artists do not express through their work. These objects are representing a life or association/event/feeling experienced within that life. The collection of objects we amass can be seen as a representation of our personal-life-trajectory, mapping the life events or the associations we find precious enough to treasure in a physical form and immortalise in an exhibition. In the same way, Hepworth immortalised her cats within a publication based on her work. Contemporary Archaeology & Anthropology This exhibition rationale is one of an exploratory nature into human behaviour. While it is a group of artists that are participating, any demographic could have been used. The demographic could have been anyone, for example lawyers or school teachers and the results of the exhibition would have come out essentially the same as there are endless possibilities

of such objects that have a narrative and history. It is a universal concept that people collect items and objects that are valued to them. In this exhibition the definition of a valued object is explored because of the subjectivity and because it is the personal experience that makes the item so unique, it is therefore the association that makes the objects valued. The object we can’t throw away is a curious thing. It sits on a shelf overlooked, yet is precious and valued. The object is almost always mundane or every day. The owner’s appreciation of the object begins with its history. What association does the owner have with this object that makes it far too valued to ever throw away, yet it sits in the background of said owner’s daily life? What makes the object so special that to the everyday eye it is junk, yet to the owner it is a highly prized memento? Is this the object our kin would have wanted to be remembered by? Do we ignore their association with it to create an ideal of our own comfort? (extra) ordinary objects: memory & narrative explores all of these questions. While there are no definitive answers, the artists involved can start to define what object means to us and how the material items they keep can represent themselves or associations. Subjectivity points us towards the narrative of the object. It’s the objects personal history of the owner that means it is so precious and in appearance to others, so worthless. Sentimentality provokes the owner to keep the object and leave it in a place of muted respect. Yet when do we discuss these prized possessions? They are rarely brought up in conversation unless a visitor points out the oddly precious thing that sits proudly in a place of safety and unacknowledged glory. Throughout the project, it has been discovered that eventually

there is a process of unloading these objects. My grandmother, when she moved from the flat she had shared with my grandfather to a flat with less storage nearer to family, she began an odd process of gifting these objects she had treasured enough to keep for decades to members of family in a very unconcerned way. Even though she has moved, she still currently does it. I don’t know her motive, perhaps it’s easier to disperse the objects to who she thinks would be appropriate now rather than leaving it to her family when she passes. She is thinking ahead to a future that for her, doesn’t exist. She is unloading her history and life to the point where she has no physical reminders of it. Is this linked to low self-esteem? I think perhaps so. Do we interpret the value of our lives through the objects we keep? The artists have also been asked to value their own objects – which object do I choose? Which object is most precious or important? What springs to mind immediately? Could I have chosen something else? The possibility of the object being pre-owned by someone else before the participant is an interesting concept. For example, Susan Rubin Suleiman’s chapter in Evocative Objects by Sherry Turkle called The Silver Pin (Suleiman 2007), Suleiman talks about a piece of jewellery her mother owned. She recalls that her mother wore the ornate pin in a photograph taken just before they moved, crossed the border into Czechoslovakia. This photo now sits on her desk and the pin accompanies it there too. She mentions that her mother never wore the pin after the reached the United States. “So why didn’t she wear it? Was this modest relic of post-war Budapest unworthy in her eyes? Or was it perhaps associated with a country, and a city, that she had no desire to remember?”

And yet even with the speculation of only negative associations and memories her mother may hold with this object, Suleiman still cherishes it as a relic of her motherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s. It is curious what we choose to cherish. The host of this exhibition St Mary-le-Wigford is a church setting. A church is a homage to the human life. These spaces are seen as venues for landmark events such as birth, marriage and death. Within this project there is a hint of self-discovery through the interview process and a revelation of identity. The object is representing a sense of fulfilment the owner gets from the association or the ownership of their object. This project would be and shallow not to recognise the current refugee crisis. The meaning of object changes when the circumstances in which we are able to keep these objects change. The people fleeing the war torn areas where they were once able to live lives similar to the ones we live now in UK obviously have a different perspective now on what is considered a valued possession. In the future, it is possible that this project will show a variation on the current theme where there are objects in the nature that I am displaying now juxtaposed with the objects of refugees to show how lucky we are and the poignant nature of what it is we value against what someone in the refugee circumstance values. This would be a very powerful, political statement of the difference between our lives and the lives of refugees and a comment on the desperate and devastating toll war has. However the object can be equal to the association, as is the case with some of the objects included in the exhibition â&#x20AC;&#x201C; they are more than just a physical representation, they are the catalyst for the recollection of the association.

Morbid curiosity I can refer to The Maybe (1995) by Cornelia Parker for a close context into the way these objects are being viewed. While The Maybe challenges and deconstructs our obsession with celebrity, (extra)ordinary objects explores our obsession with other’s secrets in a manner that is similar to wondering what goes on behind closed doors. It’s almost a morbid curiosity. We are being nosey yet are thrilled at the idea of finding something we might not like or approve of. “Philosophers and psychoanalysts have long debated the lure of the morbid – but the current dominant explanation, from evolutionary psychology, is rather deflating, lacking any reference to Freudian "death drives" or the like. We're compelled by horrible things, this argument goes, because it pays to scrutinise dangers that could threaten one's survival. Such tendencies evolved before mass media, of course – so these days, we see celebrity self-destruction and far-off tsunamis, and they grip us as hazards that might befall us, too. But Wilson's conversations with psychologists lead him to another, more uplifting conclusion: that "our attraction to the macabre is, on some level, a desire to experience someone else's suffering." We yearn to empathise – a yearning that is, incidentally, perfectly compatible with the evolutionary argument, since empathy helps us forge close bonds, which are essential for survival. Striving to feel what it might be like to be caught in the tsunami, or the pile-up, may be fundamentally healthy. Perhaps even “the itch to touch a corpse,” Wilson writes, recalling his behaviour at his grandmother’s open-coffin funeral, “is normal [and] noble.” “Recently, researchers at Ohio State University investigated another psychological eccentricity, not unrelated to morbid

curiosity: the enjoyment we derive from sad films. On the face of it, this makes little sense. But their work – which involved having 361 people watch Atonement, interrupting them at several points to administer questionnaires – revealed that the film triggered thoughts about the viewers’ own relationships. It stimulated empathy, "reinforcing pro-social values". Gratitude for good relationships was part of it, but more generally it just felt stirring to focus on what mattered. We crave meaning and connection, it seems, far more than cheeriness. Neither tearjerkers nor morbid sights offer the latter – but they do offer the former. Ultimately, the lure of death may be all about feeling truly alive.” (Burkeman n.d.) In some ways I feel like I’m intervening into a collection that is housed within a private & domestic setting. I’m drawing out the things that have been chosen to be kept private. These aren’t objects that have openly and explicitly used as an influence in the artist’s practice. It’s almost an uncomfortable request to ask for the things with associations & memories we do not discuss with others (and in the majority of cases, those closest to us) but also shows an undefined and unarticulated valuing of objects that can only be fully understood subjectively by the owner themselves. Am I gathering artefacts of a life lived? Our lives are often mapped out through the objects, achievements, affect we had on others and life events. This can be assumed to be a legacy, or certainly represent one. A legacy can be left through the living via the relatives we have, but a legacy much more personal is created through the objects we keep. Whether they were gifted to us or we created, bought or chose them ourselves, the thought processes associated with them and our explanations of why they are important is something that cannot be recreated by anyone but ourselves.

While there is a morbid curiosity, there is also a learning process. What could these artist’s possibly own and show us that we don’t know about already? I refer here, again, to Barbara Hepworth’s cat. A cat is s a very odd thing to see next to her body of work but was obviously of such value that she immortalised it and placed it amongst the things that define and represent her. I am asking the artists to do a very similar thing – these objects will represent them and be immortalised within this exhibition. What do these objects say about the artist? What have we learnt about them? Are we surprised? Is there any relationship between this object and their practice? Do they even know if there is? Spirituality These objects are there to make us question; why? What could possibly be so precious about this object, which looks like something that the average person would throw away, that it is being immortalised in an exhibition and publication? Do I have something that I subjectively consider of high value? What is it? Why haven’t I mentioned it to those close to me? They explore the untold stories and associations that make this object so valued and yet isn’t something we, ourselves are associated with. This project can be interpreted in more than one way. It could be seen as a comment on materiality. I have been conscious that object itself is something that can be seen in many different ways. This exhibition can be viewed as a contemporary art exhibition in that it is displaying object. The difference is that these objects are not art. They are not found objects in the art context. Song Dong’s expo “Waste Not” shows object in a similar context to what I intend in this exhibition. He is displaying 10,000 objects of his mother’s that

she had collected. There is clearly an issue of hoarding within this collection, but the experience of displaying the objects was one that was therapeutic. “In 2002 my father passed away very suddenly and my whole family was deeply sad. My mother stopped talking with other people. She stayed silent and would just cry. She not only held onto everything, she let it build up everywhere, all over the table, all over the bed, all over the floor. I, with my sister, tried to organise her room, to make it clean and perfect, but this made my mother really angry and for a whole night I couldn’t sleep. I knew I didn’t want to control her again. So I had this discussion with my mother and said, "Maybe in the future we can show all of the things you have". My mother, in the beginning, didn’t agree. She said "if you show this, everyone will know your mother is messy". So I told my mother, "If we show this work I think it will really help me and our family" and then my mother agreed, she said, "If it will be good for you then I can do everything for you". We first showed the work in 2005 in the Tokyo Art Gallery in Beijing. When the show opened lots of people came to talk with my mother because our family had a similar story to theirs. Talking with these people during this time helped my mother get better. So this work really changed her life.” (Dong 2012) Object therefore can have some kind of healing qualities depending on the relationship with the owner, whether the long term result of this is positive or negative. For example within this exhibition Michelle Forrest-Beckett’s object is one of a healing nature, helping her cope with the dismantling of her former family home. Dong’s exhibition displays a lifelong collection of the mundane. (extra)ordinary objects: memory & narrative shows glimpses of someone’s life in comparison although, one object

does not necessarily translate as one life event/memory/association. For example, Andrew Bracey’s object is something that is consistent throughout his life based on a representation of a personal philosophy and relationship with his studio. The objects used in the exhibition are an exploration of untold memories and narratives that are not referenced in the artist’s practice while also now evolving into a project which is an anthropological investigation into the reasons why we keep these objects and what it means to do so. Waste Not also has its own anthropological learning experience for the audience in that Dong states there is a difference between generations. “In the exhibition you can see my grandmother’s shoes, small shoes because her feet were bound, so the size is small but the style is really traditional. There are also spots shoes belonging to my niece so you can see how different generations of woman have a different sense of what is beautiful. In Waste Not you can see the cultural life of everyday people. So it is like a little history.” (Dong 2012) The title of the exhibition is also a reference to the Chinese philosophy “Wu Jin Qi Yong” which means Waste Not. This concept is taken to the extreme but regardless, reinforces the notion that collecting mundane objects because of a relationship the owner feels with it is a universal concept and is an activity that isn’t just associated with Western cultures. It is a viewing of a mass collection of the mundane and every day, extraordinary objects focusses on the special objects that appear humble yet are extraordinary because of their narratives and associations. Through these objects, we face our mortality even though at first we do not realise it. This is something I have discovered

through the interviews with the artists.I have questioned what will happen to my things when I am gone and then moved onto what would happen to my mother’s things when she passes. How do I choose the objects that I should keep? I now question if I should keep the objects that I think were important to her. Should I tell as many of my close friends and relatives about these objects to ensure their association, if not their physical presence, lives on? I am separating the interviewees into three sections. Section 1 are generations who haven’t had the life experience to contemplate their mortality and what happens to us, our legacy and our memories after we’ve passed. Section 2 is two artists who are between the “living for the moment” and “contemplating mortality” stage and therefore have had enough life experience to contemplate these things but they haven’t reached the idea of being at peace with the concept that death is inevitable and other’s lives go on after their deaths. Section 3 is the generations who have clearly contemplated their mortality through their experiences and the experiences of those close to them and have come to terms with death and look at it in a very pragmatic way. They are also both atheists whereas the topic of religion wasn’t explored with the other two sections (although with one artist in section 2, very briefly) as death and mortality wasn’t explored as in depth or matter-of-factly as section 3. All three sections revealed that they didn’t tell anyone of the existence of the object/its association they had chosen and couldn’t define when asked why this was. I feel as I myself probably fit into section 1, instead of concentrating on my life possessions and what will happen to them I am more likely to think about my parent’s first. There is a

point where I have been thinking about such things, where my mother has asked me what I might like to keep so she can put it in her will. This step comes before my own consideration of my mortality and when this step is completed I will then most likely consider my own will. It seems like a step people take almost naturally when they have children as they consider it an important legal process that needs to be gone through in order to protect their children from the aggravation of it and to make sure the child gets what was intended and wished. We subconsciously, or unconsciously map our lives through these objects. We may not be able to pin point the activity of keeping the object for a specific reason, but they may trigger associations with a life even that happened at a similar time or that is associated with an era of our lives. We cannot explain why we collect these objects other than, as discovered in the interviews; 1. They have become used to the objects presence 2. They are kept out of sentimentality and 3. They provoke an emotion or memory due to the association the object holds. These three reasons are all closely linked and almost the same and in one case during the interviews the artist has kept their object because of all three reasons. These objects are there to make us question; why? What could possibly be so precious about this object, which looks like something that the average person would throw away, that it is being immortalised in an exhibition and publication? Do I have something that I subjectively consider of high value? What is it? Why havenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t I mentioned it to those close to me? They explore the untold stories and associations that make this object so valued and yet isnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t something we, ourselves are associated with.

Burkeman, Oliver. n.d. The psychology of morbid curiosity. Accessed July 24, 2016. http://www.oliverburkeman.com/ blog/posts/the-psychology-of-morbid-curiosity. Dong, Song, interview by Bruna Volpi. 2012. Song Dong: Waste Not Hepworth, Barbara. 1970. A Pictorial Autobiography. New York: Praeger . Suleiman, Susan Rubin. 2007. “The Silver Pin.” In Evocative Objects: Things We Think With, by Sherry Turkle, 184-192. MIT Press.

Andrew Bracey

Andrew Bracey (born 1978, Bristol) is an artist, curator and lec-

turer, who is based in Waddington, Lincolnshire. Bracey graduated with an MA in Fine Art in 2001 from Manchester Metropolitan University and has since exhibited widely. His solo exhibitions include; Usher Gallery, 2014, Nottingham Castle, 2014; Manchester Art Gallery 2009; Transition Gallery, London, 2007; Wolverhampton Art Gallery, 2007; and firstsite, Colchester, 2006. He has exhibited in group exhibitions, in the UK, Europe, USA, China and Thailand. Andrew Bracey's practice hovers on the fringes of painting as it crosses over and expands into installation, curation, sculpture, drawing and animation. He often uses existing sites and the readymade as alternatives to the traditional canvas support for painting, creating tensions between the hand-made and the man-made. Within his work Bracey questions the role of the original, the reproduction (in print, online or in a catalogue for example) and exhibition display.

www.andrewbracey.co.uk @braceyandrew

AB: It's a piece of blue glass that is round and it has a blue thread that goes through a hole in the top of it. And then it has a white circle with a blue in it, all made of glass and it's something called an Evil Eye. It's about 8cm diameter by about half a centimetre in thickness, roughly. EM: So it's an evil eye? What does that mean exactly? AB: Okay so, an evil eye comes from the east Mediterranean region I think. I've come across it in Greece and Turkey and it's something that a lot of the people there would have either in their houses or they'd wear normally around their necks as a way of warding off evil spirits or evil forces. So the idea is that it looks out for the evil and thus kinda keeps that evil away because it's always looking for it, for you in order to deflect that away from you. EM: Does it have that representation for you, do you believe that? AB: I thought about it quite a lot about what I wanted to bring and I don't think I'm a superstitious person but I kind of do believe in something like karma. And I've got two weird kind of traits where I'll say that I do do superstitious things; I will salute a magpie if I see one magpie on its own and I've got an evil eye. So when I was about 11, just going up to secondary school, my brother gave me an Evil Eye, a little bit of glass to wear around my neck. Both of my brothers are older than me and had left home, I kind of look back now and psychoanalyse kind of a way of protecting me. Both him kind of giving it to me possibly, whether he would agree with that or not... and of me feeling protected from childhood. And then it broke and I lost it and so when I was about 15 I bought another one. And did the same, had it round my neck, and then when I was on my MA I went to Istanbul and Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d lost the second one I had bought in Greece and so I hadnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t had it for a couple of years when I was a student on my BA. And so I went to the market in Turkey

to buy a new one and I read that you should barter in the market so I bartered so extensively that the person ended up giving it to me for free cause actually I realised I was bartering over pence. And then I'd had it round my neck again but I went back the next day and felt so guilty about the fact I'd bartered so much that he gave it to me for free that I bought the most expensive, biggest Evil Eye that was there with no bartering whatsoever. And when I came back from there and I put it up in my studio and it's been in my studio ever since. Wherever I've been the Evil Eye has pretty much been the first thing that I've put up. I kinda see this completely tying up with how I feel about the studio. The studio is a place where I'm consistently happy. Although there are lots of places where I'm probably happier at times or people I’m with. EM: Would you feel uncomfortable without it there? AB: Yeah I've thought about this a lot as well because it's not going to be there. So, I'm kind of seeing this as a bit of a test as I don't really believe it. I'm sort of not really superstitious, I kind of go 'Nothing bad will happen to me if I don't salute a magpie' but its something that I kind of choose to do and thus believe it’s something that I choose to do and the Evil Eye is the same. I don't really think that I'm going to be any less happy when it's not there, but this (the exhibition) is almost like a way to test that. EM: So when you were talking about bartering, was you going back to the stall sort of your own, enacting your own personal karma? Maybe you were making it for it before... AB: Yeah, completely yeah. I mean I felt awful so as soon as the person said to me ‘Have it for free’ I was like ‘Oh no, no, no, course not! I will give you the full amount’ and he wouldn’t have that he was like ‘No you take that it’s my gift to you, it’s my gift to you.’

So yeah, it was completely about me making up for something that I felt was unjust by taking it too far, yeah. I felt very guilty about that and this one was my way of appeasing my own guilt was to go and spend far more money on something I didn't really want at the time but, it's turned out that something, that actually the Evil Eye that I bought round my neck, I lost again and I never got another one for my neck but that’s always been in my studio and I've moved studios about and it's always been the thing that goes up. EM: What feelings do you associate with it? It sounds like you associate comfort? AB: Yeah, I think its comfort, its safety, its happiness. It's somewhere... I buy into the fact and I want to believe the studio is a place where good things happen and the Evil Eye, it's kind of story of its origins and everything buys into something that enables that to happen, so... I try to bring that sentiment that is kind of associated with it into the studio. Cause that's what I want the studio to be for me, so that's a way of enabling that to be. I guess it's a way of something physically imbued in the object and bringing it into the space and my mind set when I'm in there. EM: Do you also associate it with your brother? AB: I think that certainly when I wore it around my neck and that definitely was. With that one (glass) I don’t think I’ve ever looked at it and thought ‘My brother’ but it’s probably something maybe in the deep, so... EM: Yeah, I mean if it’s originally something that was comforting and protecting, it’s still kind of...

AB: It is but I don't think of it in that way. It could be that it is, but... EM: Would you consider it playing quite a large part in your identity as it's so involved in your... well not involved it's got a presence in your studio and therefore maybe your practice? AB: I think if I lost that one I'd have to get another one. So, but that's more about the Evil Eye and what the Evil Eye is as opposed to that object so I was thinking about that, you know, I was kind of going 'Maybe I shouldn't give this because I don't actually feel that precious about that single object, it's about that object stands for.' But then I was kind of going, 'Actually, that's the best example that I could think of that encapsulates what I think you're trying to do with the exhibition with it'. So, I think that what it represents with the studio is definitely part of my identity and I think that the fact that it's always something that's present in that studio space, apart from a little interlude where it's going to the church, I think that's when it becomes very much part of my identity, that's the thing that's most present in the studio. It's there all the time and so I think that that I suppose would be object itself, but as I'm saying that aloud I kinda go 'Well hang on a minute, I've had an Evil Eye for... how many years? Like 25 years of my life. It probably is part of my identity.' But I don't think so, it's not something that I'd, that I would say... maybe its principles of what I see in it, are. So the studio, the calm side of karma are definitely something that are part of my identity. EM: Would you be happy with it representing you, letâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s talk hypothetically that you pass away and this object is left. Would you feel happy that this is something that might represent you, could it represent your trajectory?

AB: It’d be fine, I wouldn’t be there. (laughs) That’s kind of what other people would bring from it... yeah. It’s fine. EM: See, it’s quite interesting cause your thing is quite... It’s not disposable but when I’ve talked to other people there’s are things that they want to treasure and if it was lost they’d be quite upset, but because you have a pattern of just replacing it... AB: Yeah. It’s what it stands for, that’s the important thing. EM: Yeah, so you do think it works? It certainly does something, clearly but what is it? Can you define, for you? AB: I can’t think of anything else that I own that I have for such a kind of specific reason that isn’t a functional reason, I have it because of this meaning. I’m a bit of a hoarder, I’ve got loads and loads. Far too much stuff. The whole thing of the fire happening, like I’d save my kids. I wouldn’t go and save an object cause I kind of think well... ‘Everything is important and nothing is important.’ I don’t think I’ve got anything that I feel hugely sentimental about, if it was one thing. Like I’d be distraught if all my art books went. But I couldn’t pick one art book. I’d be distraught if all my art got destroyed but I couldn’t pick one artwork. And it’s the same with the Evil Eye, I’d kind of, I’d replace the Evil Eye I don’t know if there’s anything else that I’d replace. EM: One of my questions was, if you were in a fire what would you choose? AB: Yeah, my kids. EM: But what if they’re 25 and they didn’t live there anymore?

AB: Um... What would I save if I was in a fire? Um... I don't know. I kind of of- I'd try and save myself. EM: So do you have any thoughts on materialism then, cause you seem to be someone who isn't too bothered about object, exactly. AB: You see I guess it's contradictory cause I kind of say I've got lots and lots of stuff but actually I buy an inordinate amount of books but I don't really buy anything else. So I do, I buy food and I buy things for my kids and my family but I don't really buy anything else. I kind of think its contradictory because I've got a lot stuff, I've got far more stuff than my partner. But it's pretty much of one kind. I guess I'm quite a compulsive person, I'm quite an obsessive person. But it tends to be in a very directed way, but I also kind of have this attitude that is... what's truly important? That the fact that we're here and we're able to kind of talk to one another and be with one another and actually, that's you know, everything else isn't as important as that. I think that our culture puts far too much importance on material goods and objects. It baffles me why so many people want to go shopping on a Saturday and buy shitty clothes that they’re gonna throw away after wearing them a couple of times, I just don’t get it. It’s not something- let alone, I can’t see the attraction of going shopping, it’s like, worst things I hate doing. Give me a book, put me in a little bookshop and I’ll be as happy as Larry squirrelling away. Yeah I find our materialism baffling but it’s completely understandable as well. EM: Do you think that the association of memory is stronger than the object? AB: Yeah. EM: Why’s that?

AB: Because our lived experiences, what we've truly got. And for me I guess I forget quite a lot. But the things I remember and hold on to are very kind of dear and profound and meaningful and... objects are just there. And yes they can have meaning, associative meaning etc. etc. and I'm an artist I create objects, so it's contradictory what I'm saying, but it's always been, for me, what we experience, what we live through is so much dearer. We can't kind of replicate that or live that again, what we've got up there and it's truly ours as well, and objects are just... I don't know, I just don't have that relationship to them in the same way. It's the same thing, like we've moved house quite a lot recently and we've got stuff that's still in boxes that are unpacked and the longer they're in the boxes you kind of realise that you've just done perfectly well without all that stuff that if we unpacked it all would be about, you don't actually need all that stuff it's just that... we have it around us to make us feel better. Louise (Chalmers) said this morning about meeting the person, I forget where she said, in an African country and they had the necklace and a banana in their house and they gave the necklace to her...yeah... and then you twin it with that amount of stuff with the amount of stuff I’ve got at my house and I don’t really feel much of an attachment to it... so why don’t I just get rid of it? I don’t need it. EM: So do you, do you have sons? AB: Yeah, I’ve got two. EM: Do they know about the history behind this? AB: Yeah, I’ve talked to them about it, but... whether they were listening or not is a different matter. EM: Do you think it’s something that you think that they will associate with you?

AB: I wouldn’t have thought so. EM: But it’s something that obviously plays quite a big part of you. AB: I think they’re more gonna associate it. Because it’s connected to the studio, I think they’re more associate it with that... ‘That’s the space that daddy does his work, that’s the space where we can go and draw’ I don’t think they’d really associate the Evil Eye with me it’s more about doing things there. EM: When they’re older do you think they will? AB: Maybe, yeah. EM: Cause it’s all... it’s got its place, hasn’t it? AB: Yeah, maybe. I think they’re probably too young for that, one’s three and one’s seven. EM: And do you think it’s ever had its own role in your actual practice? Has it had any influence? Maybe the feelings that you associate with it or even the aesthetic of it, has it ever...? AB: Maybe. I draw a lot of triangles. But when I was on my degree course I drew a lot of circles, a lot of circles, like millions of them probably. And, obviously the Evil Eye is a circle thing there’s circle within a circle and that imagery was there quite a lot. Yeah I’ve never thought of that as a thing, but it could have been something underlying that maybe... I think that would be more about thetalking more about the ubiquity of the circle across different cultures and across different things of what it can stand for but that’s certainly contained within the Evil Eye.

EM: And what's the longest you've kept an Evil Eye. AB: I believe three or four years. They normally break, so, because they're generally like a glass and hallow to allow the thread to come through, so it only takes the pressure of somebody treading on it or... I tended to take it off when I was having a shower to protect the thread cause the threads like the leather, thong type stuff that you have so I normally take that off to have a shower so that it meant it lived, or was there for four times as long and then often I’d tread on it- well not often, but once I trod on it by mistake, once I lost it... Once it broke and I can’t remember how it broke, I think I fell on it or something that was really painful. EM: You’ve said you’ve moved house a few times recently... AB: Yeah. EM: ...so, you’ve obviously not lost it. AB: No. EM: Is that a conscious effort, I mean things do get lost quite easily. AB: So, I mean it’s, it was in the studio so... so it’s life has gone from when I brought it back from Turkey I took it to my MA studio... and then I set up a studio with the fellow MA students and it went in there, and then I moved to another studio and it went there, and then I went back to another studio and it went there, then I went back to the original studio I set up in a different building so it went there. And I was there for a long, long, long time for probably like 11 years there. And then it moved to the studio when I had one in the city centre in Lincoln, I didn’t have one to start with so it stayed in the studio- I kept it in the studio in Manchester. But as I soon as

I started using the studio in Lincoln then I moved the Evil Eye And then I've now got a studio in my house so it's now in the house, above my desk where I work. EM: Do you ever feel like anything bad has actually happened as a result of it not where it should be? AB: Um... no. EM: So, why do you still...? AB: Because of what it stands for. So like I sort of say I don’t really believe in superstition and what that kind of stands for, that’s what I that associative with, I completely buy into that so the studio can be that space for me and that’s associated with the Evil Eye. I don’t think that it’s actually imbuing that sense of warding off evil spirits but I think it can help create a space that does. And so maybe it does. I don’t think that it is that one off object... although I’ve said I can replace it I think the principle of what the Evil Eye is and... That’s probably something I’ll have for, always in life. I’ll probably always have an Evil Eye in my studio. EM: Well what if someone did do a book on you and they knew that this Evil Eye was a constant theme in your studio... AB: Yeah. EM: ...and they chose it to represent you on a book cover or however else. Would that be okay? AB: Yeah it’s their choice. It’s fine with me. EM: Would you choose it?

AB: I wouldn’t choose it, no. EM: What would choose to be on your book cover? AB: I’d choose it to be blank. EM: Why? AB: If I was to have a choice and not one thing would sum it up so to me the thing about a great book is the flipping through the pages of it. My parents always used to- you know when you have a hardback book and you have the cover, the paper cover on the hardback but you can take off so then it’d be just the blank cloth normally... they would always take the covers off so then it was just the blank... and I guess that I’ve always liked that, getting the books and they’re like that. Cause I kind of think, it’s ‘What’s in the book?’ Rather than what’s knowing... I understand completely that it’s to draw you to it that you need something that’s eye catching but if I were to choose, then it’d be blank. Maybe with some nice like, white lettering. There’s a beautiful book. Edmund De Wall wrote a book called the White Road which is all about the pilgrimage over, um, porcelain and the story of porcelain and you get this little case, that’s what it’s called, the slipcase cover which has got this picture of something or other on it, but if you take that off then... the book is pure white with this embossed, very small lettering of Edmund De Wall and the White Road. That would be my choice. That’s the perfect cover. EM: Even though it’s in your studio, and you tie in your studio with it, do you not acknowledge it? Or is it just present? AB: I would say that it depends on the day. Sometimes, it’ll be present in what it stands for and everything like that and then other times I won’t have even noticed it.

EM: What has to happen for you to look at it? What kind of day do have to have? AB: Probably a day when I’m getting distracted from making work. EM: So does it inspire you? AB: I wouldn’t say it inspires me but what it stands for... there’s a real thing for me that I’ve kind of talked about, with this fear of being- where the studio is where I’m consistently happy. So, a place where I feel good. I’m not although I’ve had odd occasions of it but not really had the kind of, the tortured artist thing in the studio or anything like that. Normally I find the studio very productive and enjoyable and all of those things. And so I’d say that was also a very much a choice that I wanted the studio to be that. And I think that that’s mapped up probably with the timing of when I brought it to the studio. So, I’d say that it is an object that hasn’t inspired me...but, maybe that’s a being a bit disingenuous because I think its part of a wider choice that I was making that that was definitely part of that choice. EM: Is it possibly part of a spirituality? AB: Yeah. Probably. I’m quite sceptical of lots of things despite being a very optimistic, positive person...I think. But it’s funny, I’d have said a year ago if I was asked that, absolutely not because I would have said that I’m not a spiritual person. And over the last year I’ve probably realised that actually I’m not giving myself credit for the fact that I probably am, it’s just

not on the terms that I thought of that spirituality probably meant. And so I’d say what probably I’m imbuing into that object is something that is spirituality and it is linked up to a maybe a character that I’m starting to learn about myself. EM: ‘Cause you did talk about Karma as well... AB: Yeah. EM: ...and obviously that’s something you’ve believed in for quite some time - in Turkey you... you felt so guilty... AB: Yeah, yeah. I’ve got big beliefs that what you put in you will get out. What I found out about Karma the other day, in fact my brother told me that the Buddhist belief, where obviously the principle of Karma comes from, they completely believe that. But maybe the result of good deeds on your part in relation to karma won’t happen in your lifetime because they believe in the afterlife. So, the thing is if you do something good in your lifetime then maybe in two lifetimes time then that could be what you do in life could come back to you so... whereas I kind of think much more short term than that, I kind of believe in this thing that if you are genuinely a good person that does good things to other people than that will come back and- not all the time, not consistently but that will be the balance of your life. If you are an evil wrongdoer then that will eventually come back to bite you. EM: So you have had a spiritual kind of philosophy in your life for quite some time, maybe not necessarily conscious of it...

AB: Yeah... Yeah. EM: Are you religious? AB: No. So that’s, that’s exactly why I didn’t think that I was a spiritual person so that’s why I associated being spiritual with... EM: That’s interesting cause not everyone, while the two go hand in hand, they’re not necessarily associated all the time. AB: Yeah. But I think that... it’s funny. My brother asked me, my other brother, asked me if I was a spiritual person and I said ‘No, absolutely not.’ and he kind of went ‘Oh right, that’s interesting’ and then just left it hanging there. Then I then went up and looked up what spirituality might be and there’s no clear definition of it whatsoever. So some will talk about it in purely the religious sense, some won’t mention religion at all in it, some will talk much about what you give out, some will talk about doing much as a thing within you. So there’s not one definite way of defining what spirituality is which is why it’s maybe something that’s struggling.. So that also means, to me that it’s about what it is for you... and what you make it for you. Which is how I guess that started to think that maybe I could be... maybe I am a spiritual person because there’s definitely things that I would believe in that way it’s just I was, I had a closed definition of what it might be that was right from only a certain point of view. EM: It’s incredibly interesting that you’re not actually that

bothered about it (the Evil Eye). But yet you’ve chosen to display it as an object that’s got value. But it’s the association... AB: I can only repeat that it’s what it stands for. It’s the only thing that really made sense. Like, everything else would be this kind of falsehood of why I’d bring it in, do you know what I mean? I was kind of going there like- I thought about- I’ve got like a, one of those nice cafetieres that’s um, which is you know, that’s a regular fear of making that up but, again that could just be anyone. It’s not actually that specific object. I don’t think I own anything hat that would be so precious to me as that one single thing... sounds quite bad doesn’t it? I haven’t got the, the object... that one object from my childhood that’s there. I haven’t got the one thing that that my dad passed on to me that... you know, I kind of associate with him that’s like that. I haven’t got those things. But I’ve got lots of other things that are great and important, it’s not like I live in this minimalist palace in any way. You know, my home is my home for the things that are in it. I’ve got lots of other things that are great and important, it’s not like I live in this minimalist palace in any way. You know, my home is my home for the things that are in it. EM: Do you think people would be surprised when they see the object or hear the association? AB: Do I think they’d be surprised? EM: Do you think they’re gonna know this about you?

AB: No, probably not. I think there’ll probably be people that have been in my studio that’ll go ‘Oh yeah, there!’ but they probably wouldn’t think that it meant so much to me. I mean it kind of does and it doesn’t... I’d just have to replace it, it’d be annoying having to replace it. EM: It’s just inconvenient? AB: Yeah. Particularly as I’ve got no plans to go to Greece or Turkey and maybe that’s the thing that I’ve always gone there to get it, so maybe there is a thing of being sentimental or spiritual with that. That it’s not just that it’s the Evil Eye that it comes from the place that I associate the truth of what it’s meant for there. So, I wouldn’t get one from England, so it would be annoying. EM: Karma isn’t something that you put into your artworks? AB: I don’t think so... I think it probably is there, I don’t think it’s something that I consciously put in should I say... no I don’t think so. I think we all make autobiographical work but I certainly don’t put autobiography consciously into my work...I think it’s just there and I certainly accept it and I could probably delve into it but it’s not the thing that I think of as present of needing to share that with anybody else. EM: So does your personal life and your art practice, do they overlap at all? AB: Yeah, because I’m quite an obsessive. Art is my life, I kind of very rarely switch into the mode of somebody else, maybe

when the footballs on sometimes.

Emily Connor

Born in Grimsby, North East Lincolnshire, in 1992, my pas-

sion for art has always been evident. After school I went to Franklin College to do my A Levels and then attended Grimsby School of Art to do an Art Foundation course, where I gained a distinction. In 2015, I received a First Class Honours in BA Fine Art Practice from the Grimsby Institute of Further and Higher Education. I am now studying for an MA in Fine Art at the University of Lincoln.

I generate work that translates a moment; that demonstrates a non- representational translation of the world through mark. With methods that border between attentiveness and expression; ambiguity and knowledge, I am able to engage with my own narrative of consciousness, and subsequently describe my own knowledge and perception of experience.

www.emilyconnor.co.uk

EM: Can you describe the object to me please? EC: Mmhm. An envelope from my Nanna with particular handwriting, her handwriting on it. She's written a note to me on the front and the back. It says 'Well done' and it's got pictures on the front of flowers. And it says well done because it must have been when I've done my A levels or exams or something that I've done in the past. EM: Do you not remember when she gave you it? EC: No, well I've got quite a lot and that's the thing, I've got quite a lot of different sorts of notes saying 'Congratulations' and things and 'Well done' and stuff. And so the envelope, that's quite a nice thing about it cause the envelope is actually empty so, I quite like that cause I'm trying to think of what it could be. When did she give me it? EM: You don't remember what was inside? EC: No, I mean it might have been some money or something like a little treat, which it probably would have been. Like a five pound note or something nice like that. “Treat yourself to a drink or something”. But because of that you’re just left thinking...it might be in my bundle of letters or not, I don’t know but it makes you think about it doesn’t it? That it’s empty. It’s quite nice. EM: Why was it this specific envelope that you chose out of everything?

EC: I think because, mainly because I’ve been trying to tell her, ask her lately to do a lot of writing just to keep her mind active and to do drawings cause she does quite like to draw with me. And, on the back also she's put 'Please can I come out with you sometime? Love from Nanna' Well that just makes me smile because I know that my Nanna constantly wants to think she's like my friend or she wants to come out with me. And she's 95 so, she's a good age. She just likes to think she's quite young and whenever I’m going out she says 'Can we have a girly night?' or something like that. So it reminds me of that when I read that, it just makes me smile. EM: So does it provoke good feeling? EC: Yeah, definitely. It just makes me just have a think of my Nana and how much I care about her. EM: What is your relationship like with her? EC: Well, I'm very close to my Nanna because when I’m not at Uni I see her every day nearly. And when I'm not at Uni I look after her, so I care for her. I've always grown up with her living with her at one point for a few years and or where I live in my own house which is just down the road really so I've always lived really close to her. But recently she's been diagnosed with vascular dementia, so more so than ever she needs, as she has poor mobility, she needs a lot of care. And I think that's what makes me sort of treasure each sort of moment more than ever really. Especially handwriting and anything she sorts of writes to me, I really just sort of think is precious.

EM: Is your practice all encompassing? EC: My practice focuses on process and the continual engagement with past and present responses to experience. I often feel overwhelmed and consumed by the marks that I make; this is due to my own notions of repetition and embodiment of action. So yes, I do feel my practice is all encompassing. EM: Would you be happy for this object to represent you as an artist? EC: I often think about this; the blurring between my practice and personal life. I feel as though I am continuously thinking about my practice; sometimes more consciously and intentionally than other times, but I always feel I have an awareness to the sensibilities of response and process. The object; the envelope, could represent me as an artist, as my identity is influenced by my current life situation; caring for my grandmother and being aware and influenced by her trace. Friends, and generally people that I cross paths with, always seem to be aware, within a short while, that I have an elderly grandmother who I am very close to, and who I care for. EM: However, there is a point where my practice becomes all process; and therefore all-encompassing within the context of the marks that I make. Therefore, I do not need the object to represent my practice. I consider the objects; the memories, to be more of a â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;supplementâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;; as a gesture of personal identity, but not as a sole representation of myself as an artist. EC: How would you feel if your envelope went missing or no

longer existed? EC: Initially, and for a long while, I would be upset, as it would be losing a physical trace of my grandmother. The object, the tangibility of that particular evidence would be missing, but over time I would have to come to terms with that happening. I would soon realise that the memory of my relationship with my grandmother will always be there; without the need for the physical object. EM: Do the people closest to you know about the notes you have kept? EC: It was not until being asked to take part in this exhibition I started to look through my ‘memory box’, and therefore I have recently spoken to my mother about my collections of memories and showed her the envelope, along with other handwritten letters, postcards etc from my grandmother. I guess what I am trying to say is; my closest ones do not need to know about the notes that I have kept; not because they are a secret, but because at this moment in time, they do not need to be routinely shared and memorialised. EM: Why don’t you think you’ve mentioned it before? EC: It is not that I have not mentioned it before, I believe, as a family, we do like to hold onto objects from childhood and therefore we are already aware of, and assume that we have all kept various traces of our own relationship with my grandmother. As a family, we tend to collect; our house is full of objects that represent our interests and our sentimentality of

moments in our life. We are always discussing the amount of possessions we have, and how we should all have â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;a good clear outâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;. And, when this happens, we soon realise how attached we are to certain objects, and sometimes it is hard to even explain why. You are right when you say in this exhibition brief about nostalgia; objects are just that; a chance to re-engage with moments and memories. EM: What do you think will happen to those notes when you are no longer living? EC: I would like to think my collection of memories would be passed on to the next generation of my family. I would like to think that; if, and when I have children, that they will be interested in the relationship I had with my grandmother, and would treasure the tangible, physical traces of her life; to keep the memory of her alive. EM: Does your grandmother play a part in your practice? EC: Yes, often, but not all the time. Sometimes I will bring her to my studio to watch me work and quite regularly I will encourage her to draw and make marks; keeping her mind active. When I hand her a paintbrush, I am intrigued to see her own process of engaging with the marks that she makes, and often it will be the same sort of imagery: toy car, doll, apples, cherries; memories of her own childhood maybe? And then, sometimes, she will make marks that I feel represent a kind of mediated calligraphy, her own sort of visual language. This really interests me; how, like me, when in the moment, she is attentive to the process; she is mindfully engaging with

her ‘trace making’. EM: What sort of relationship do you have with your grandmother? EC: I have always had a strong bond and close relationship with my grandmother. She has always played an important part in my life. As a family, we have always lived only ten minutes away from my grandmother’s house. I used to walk to my grandmother’s after school, most days, for tea. Her house has always been the main base for my family; we would all meet and have tea together. I would come home from school; my brother would come home from college and my dad would be coming from work. My mother gave her job up about ten years ago to look after my grandmother full time. It was evident she needed more and more care as the years went by; mainly with mobility, but now dealing with her recent diagnosis of Vascular Dementia. I am also a carer for my grandmother; I help my mother out as much as I can. As my brother is now a full time teacher; and my dad works full time in a school, it harder for them to give their time; but they do help out whenever they can; still seeing my grandmother most days. I guess we are a really close knit family; we are all there for each other, and we all care for my grandmother. EM: Do you see your grandmother and these notes playing a part of your life and practice for the rest of your life? EC: The envelope, along with my collection of notes, drawings etc. from my grandmother; was the initial and immediate choice of my ‘extra-ordinary’ object. For this reason; I feel the

sensibilities of trace; and the evidence of existence will always play a part in my practice. The physical object; the envelope for example, will not always have an influence on my practice; but the concept of trace making; of leaving evidence of ‘being’, is something I feel will continue to play an important part in my practice. It is about archiving our existence; archiving the reflexive engagement with past and present experiences and processes. EM: How will you feel when there are no more new notes? EC: It is emotional thinking about this; of course it is. When a loved one is no longer with us; it is hard, and the notes; the traces, will no longer be accumulating. However, inevitably, it will happen; it is life; and moments like these get easier and better with time. Therefore when it does come to that point; when there are no more new notes, I will always be proud and thankful that I treasured her trace. And, therefore, at this moment in time, I will continue to encourage my grandmother to write; to draw; to send me and my family messages whenever I can. My intention is to keep her mind active; so that we can continue to enjoy and treasure the traces she is making in this world. EM: Of what significance is the song you chose to include? EC: For as long as I can remember my nanna has sang “If You Were the Only Girl (In the World)” to me at times when I’ve been happy, and at times when I’ve been sad. I have very fond memories of her singing me to sleep with this song and en-

EM: Of what significance is this song? EC: For as long as I can remember my Nanna has sang "If You Were the Only Girl (In the World)" to me at times when I've been happy, and at times when I've been sad. I have very fond memories of her singing me to sleep with this song and encouraging me to learn the words so that we could sing together. And, when I was discussing the relevance of this song with my mum, she said that she feels exactly the same; she also has a strong connection with it; as she was also taught the words by her grandmother (my nanna's mother). I just think that's really lovely; a sentimentality to the song, that is shared within the family; especially within the: Grandmother - Grandaughter and Mother - Daughter relationship. EM: Does it provoke any feelings? EC: Yes, of course, the tune itself makes me feel very warm inside; the song provokes a great sense of joy and sentiment to the moments of singing we have shared together over the years. It's a very gentle and happy song; and that's why I like it so much. I often start singing it when I'm at my nanna's to see if she'll join in; and she always does, it's really nice, because she gets all giggly. And, she still remembers all the words; once she starts singing, you can't stop her, she loves singing this song, along with: 'We'll Meet Again' by Vera Lynn, of course. Claim to fame: Nanna served Vera Lynn dinner in the war. EM: Do you ever listen to it or sing it on your own?

EC: Yes, I often think about this song, and I'll also sing it to myself, as it instantly makes me smile. I'm just thinking I should have the song on my iPod; I don't know why I haven't got it on there already. In fact, I would like a playlist of all my nanna's favourite songs; I'll get onto this!

Michelle ForrestBeckett

Michelle Forrest-Beckett (born 1976, Middlesbrough) is a

practicing artist and an MA student in Fine Art, at the University of Lincoln. Referring to past group shows, where her works explored intermedial shifts across disciplines of assemblage, installation and moving image, to reflect upon factual/ fictional histories relating to the exhibition site; ‘Home-lab' Lincoln, 2016, ‘The Market Estate Project' Islington, London, 2010, 'That's it, it's over, goodbye' The Duke of Clarence, London SE1, 2009, 'Damaged in Transit' The Art Organisation, Nottingham, 2007, ‘Fine Art Degree Show’ Greestone Gallery, Lincoln, 2007 and 'Arts in the Park' Arboretum Park, Lincoln, 2006, Michelle has since focused her research and practice upon methods of narrate abstraction, to think through irreconcilable divisions between aspirations and reality. Building a world where (dis)beliefs are suspended and left in the balance for reconsideration, Michelle assembles architectural forms, which she titles mind(scapes). Where the spirit of consciousness is relinquished within a zone of irreality, that is uninhibited by the limitations of the real-world, she creates a place where former feelings of lack are reclaimed and transformed into a desiring prospect. An open-ended landscape, that echoes an eternal incompleteness, boundless possibilities unfold and expand. https://mmforrestbeckett.wordpress.com/ mmforrestbeckett@gmail.com

MFB: I didn’t make it as a piece of work, I made it to try and get over something and resolve something I was feeling unsettled about. Something I needed to face. EM: What was it that you were trying to face? MFB: Well, when you take photographs, nowadays, they tend to be digital, so you never really print them. And so these photos had sat on my computer, it must be about… God I don’t even know. Ten years? Something like that. When I was dealing with ideas of domesticity in my art practice. I felt like this was something that I had to face. I had to print those pictures out, since I never looked at them when they were taken. I took them, put them on the hard drive and I never looked at them again because I felt like it was a sad moment. It was when the family house was sold and it was sold for reasons which were quite sad and the only way I could document the house was when the rooms were empty. So it’s not really something that you want to really keep and cherish, but yet it was the only testimony I had. ‘Cause sometimes you hold onto things for nostalgic purposes but this was like I didn’t want to feel like I had to erase part of history. It sounds a bit melodramatic really because, everybody has to leave homes behind, bricks and mortar, different things, times change. But because there was a part of history that lead to leaving the family home and the family home being sold, there was something that I felt like I didn’t want to go back to, because it made me feel sad. EM: So, do you have an association of sadness with it? What do you feel when you look at it?

MFB: Yeah. Well now, I feel like I’ve overcome most of the sadness or fear of the sadness, because that’s why I challenged myself to make it into an object. And, I made it to be a bit more playful, so they’re like children’s blocks. EM: I was actually going to say, there’s something quite juvenile about it. MFB: Yeah. EM: And what is that about? MFB: Well its literally relates to the childhood of me being in that home, I guess the age of when I was there. Plus, just to be able to look at something maybe a bit more light-hearted by playing. And maybe taking something that’s fractured, disjointed and maybe being able to change your view or perspective. I didn’t really think too much into it I don’t think, but maybe I did. I mean, we think about so much with making art and critiquing ourselves anyway as artists that you know, I’m sure there’s a lot gone into it, but maybe subconsciously. I do think of Rachel Whiteread when I look at it because I love her work and the fact that the rooms, the inside of the rooms of the photos are on the outside of a block that can’t be entered, there’s that similarity. So I guess there’s connotations there, but I never... it’s just for me it was a way of acknowledging and ‘cause I work with objects, they’re like a visual testament to a past and I guess this doesn’t allow my memory to die by having something visual, do you see? To hold on to. EM: It’s a way to “permanise” it.

MFB: Yeah. And I’ve been reading about longing and there’s two sides of representing it. Usually, in my art practice, I create large and infinite works that are about trying to fulfil a longing, that I don’t even know what it is I’m trying to represent. This is something that’s longed for - that’s passed, so that’s why I think it’s small. EM: So is each block a room? MFB: Yeah, and people might not be able to make it out. We didn’t live in a very normal house, my mum was a bit mental and did lots of weird things to it, it drove us nuts. And so it doesn’t look like maybe your average house, you can make out windows and things, features. But to the average person that might… it might be compelling because it’s a bit obscure or ‘why would somebody want to do that?’ but I guess, I don’t know… it means a lot to me. EM: Do you arrange it in a conscious way? MFB: I did just then. EM: Why’s that? MFB: Because it allows me to walk through my memory of the rooms. EM: So its in an order that allows you to recreate… MFB: Yeah, that’s literally in somewhat of an order.

EM: Okay. MFB: Yeah. EM: So, what would happen if I moved the order around? MBF: I’d find that interesting, I think. EM: Shall I do it? MFB: Yeah, yeah do it. EM: Okay. (EM now moves the blocks into a different, slightly incoherent order) MFB: Nobody has played with them before, or rearranged them. EM: How did that make you feel? MFB: Actually, really fun. Because I’m thinking ‘Oh why is my sister’s old bedroom next to the living room?’ (laughs) and what else have we got? Oh and the stairs to the loft bedroom – mine and my brother’s bedrooms are now on the ground floor. EM: Because without that story, and you telling me which rooms they are… I wouldn’t know. MFB: No…

EM: Because they are bare. MFB: Yeah. EM: ..and they have no belongings in it to indicate that is a bedroom. The stairs are fairly self-explanatory I think. MFB: Yeah. EM: So, if I take it away and hide them. (The blocks are removed from MFB’s sight) Can you describe it from memory? MFB: So there’s 8 cubes, which make up 8 rooms but actually I think there was probably more rooms in the house. And then there’s 2 triangular cubes on the top to form the roof. EM: And what does it feel like? MFB: The object? EM: Mm-hm. MFB: It feels playful. Which is what I wanted it to be, but my memory that day wasn’t. But I guess memories of that house would have been playful because you can’t take away from the fact that I had a great childhood. A great playful childhood there, it’s just I guess these object look at the end, the final point of what I remember of that house, rather than all of the… the however many number of years we were there having our childhood.

EM: So does it play a strong part in your identity? If you lived there for so long or you’ve obviously got a strong enough relationship with that house to create an object which you cherish. MFB: It does, but I think in respect of a personal side of me. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve lived in so many places and I’m now so far into my life that I actually don’t talk much about my childhood? And, I don’t even know if I talk a lot about my childhood when I do go home and see the family. I don’t know. So I guess it just feels very personal to me. If the people who know me don’t need to associate me with that object. So I don’t know if that detaches from my identity, I’m not sure. If that makes sense (laughs). EM: Where do you place this object? Where does it belong in your life in terms of display? MFB: At the minute its been sitting in my studio because I’m working on trying to be less subjective in my work. That’s like the epitome of (laughs) this is my personal story. Although, its still very abstract to the average viewer. Do you see what I mean? Even if somebody knew me...I mean even my husband probably… does my husband know that house? Yeah my husband did know that house, so he would make the association. But no one, not many other people in my life would make the association. It sits in the space to remind me where I’m going from and where I’m going to because I guess it’s challenging personal things but wanting to challenge it on a wider scale if you can, on a common ground, so that its more about people than just about me.

EM: How would it make you feel if the object was gone, lost for whatever reason? MFB: I guess you could recreate it, but would there be need to? I think for me, it was like a rite of passage of facing through it. Facing the challenge of confronting those photos. And because I’ve just printed them out on paper a lot of them are already wearing. But it’s not like I want to preserve it because I guess it shows it’s been interacted with and maybe it allows for me to let go of it as well by losing its surface. So, for me I’m trying to embrace that, to come to terms with the fact that it’s a part of my past. It’s something that I can remember and don’t have to so much hold on to. It’s funny because I make (art) with existing objects. I’m a collector of lots and lots of old things and sometimes they’re not personal, sometimes they’re from a past that’s so intriguing they could be broken, they could be worth nothing and I could have brought a multitude of things in, but I guess that was the first thing that came to mind because it was so challenging. EM: Does it provoke feeling? MFB: Yeah, it does. And I do have a few letters and I’ve got childhood books and things that my mums kept. She was very, very, materially associated so she kept clothes, she kept school books, she kept all our birthday cards growing up. Just so much stuff and then that day that I went to the house, I had to collect about ten plastic boxes of objects and take them home and I’ve since had to reduce that ten boxes to a smaller amount ‘cause I’m now custodian of these things - but I guess, I had to pick out what was important to me and not what was

important to my mum. EM: What was the criteria for that? MFB: What meant the most, what I could associate with a memory from my childhood. EM: Was it always a memory from your childhood or was there recent memories with these objects or feelings? MFB: They were all childhood objects EM: So they were all nostalgic? MFB: Yeah. I mean some I guess, it’s my mum reminding me; ‘You’ve had that since you were one year old’ and then I remember naming it “daddy-long-legs” It’s this gorgeous little bear with really long stripey legs. It’s a really retro looking thing, it’s quite cool. Maybe that was a factor of keeping it. But it’s like, I’ve had that since I was one and look at it. It’s still full of charm and because I keep so many objects that I make with that may not be associated in my history and other people’s history, I guess that one stood out. EM: So is it the object you’d like to represent your life? When you’re gone? MFB: Oh God. It could (laughs) I don’t know. It’s funny because I don’t have children and don’t plan on having children and I always say to my partner ‘All this stuff, where’s it gonna’ go?’ (laughs) stuff that’s really, you know, you treasure…

where’s it gonna’ go? We can’t pass it on to anybody. And realistically, I’d like to think I could build a mausoleum with a beautiful coffin and be put in there, housed in there with family members and friends and lots of objects, but I think in reality (laughs) I probably won’t be able to afford that. EM: Quite like ancient Egypt, then. MFB: Yeah (laughs) I’ve been to that amazing graveyard at Hampstead Heath and they have an Egyptian-esque kind of… EM: But there’s nothing to say you can’t do that. MFB: No, you never know. It feels very… I guess it just makes me feel at peace. Even though, I don’t know… I think once you’re gone you’re gone but then have moments of romanticism thinking ‘ooh! Wouldn’t it be nice?’ to have a resting place you can always- but I think it just makes you feel better in the now to think ‘oh yeah I can rest there’. I did look at burial chambers, pre-historic burial chambers where people were actually buried in the place that they used to live. So, they had these circular kind of buildings that they made and they had like a grass roof and that’s how they kind of are now. And they, well they may not have had a grass roof when they were living in it, but that’s how they look now. And yeah, their bodies were supposed to be buried in the place that they lived, so everybody had a space. But back in prehistoric times that was probably achievable. When you read novels of graves overflowing in the Victorian era and bodies being buried on top of bodies. I guess you don’t think like that now, you just think that you’ll be cremated and it makes life easier for everyone (laughs)

EM: So does the idea of not having this archive of your life on display or somehow permanised upset you? MFB: No, I just think I’m being realistic. I think if you were to daydream about it, it’d be like ‘Oh my god yeah that’d be epic’ y’know ‘cause we all love going to, I don’t know, museums like Sigmund Freud and being able to see all of the objects that influenced him, that he wanted around him that, y’know, that had an impact. ‘Cause we all want to get into the mind of these thinkers and these people especially when they had something really pivotal and significant to say like he did. I guess, it would be lovely to think I could aspire to have a museum about me, but I think the average person doesn’t think like that, you just think ‘Enjoy it while it’s here as best you can’. There’s been times in my life where I’ve felt really bogged down by the objects because I spent a lot of the time living out of a bag, travelling the world. I didn’t own anything. And now I own white goods and I don’t own a house yet which is something I’m grappling with because everybody wants to feel like they have a home that they can come home to and feel y’know, it reflects them. But, at the same time, this need, I try and challenge it, but I think ‘Well right, maybe I never need to own a house, maybe I will just be a bit fleeting and nomadic and maybe that’s more true to me, that I’m only feeling like I need to materialise myself because I’m getting older and I need something to show for it. EM: So these blocks, do they represent that home?

MFB: Yes, I think that’s it. I think by recreating it, it represents that I can always feel at home in the memory of it. I bought something at a flea market a few months ago and they’re little handmade, German...what are they made of? It looks like terracotta, and it’s a little house! Two little houses, they look like gingerbread houses and when I took them home, the other half saying ‘What are they?’ and well if I never own a house I can just have these ones. And it’s being able to challenge the fear of wanting the security of something. You want the nest, you’re going to build your own family home to be able to move on from the one you haven’t quite come to terms with having to let go of. But actually, maybe… maybe that’s enough? Maybe that object’s enough. EM: It’s a representation of the home rather than the physical… MFB: Yeah, the physical thing. Which again is a bit paradoxical, but I guess I can carry it around! It doesn’t cost me £200,000 and a life of being stuck to a mortgage (laughs) EM: Okay, we’ve talked about (the object) as a whole even though its cubed, but if you had to choose one cube? MFB: Ooh I do have a cube actually! (laughs) That one. (MFB chooses the cube with a light, bright window which covers two sides of the cube) EM: Why’s that?

MFB: That corner. I think… EM: The window? MFB: The window. I’ve been looking at windows a lot, the window has a paradoxical reading of either being repressed behind it or looking out and looking at opportunity and the light of that window, it makes me feel really positive. And that is actually my mum and dad’s bedroom window (laughs) which I guess I don’t maybe think I’d associate so much with being positive. But I just love the light coming through there. EM: But that window has an association for you of positivity? MFB: I think it’s just… EM: Regardless of context. MFB: Yeah. But maybe I’m looking for the positive because I’ve made it playful anyway… maybe it’s just, regardless of context, nice to hold onto that, because it fortuitously came out looking that way. EM: So that wasn’t- are any of these planned to you or did you just… MFB: I just literally, I remember taking my camera, it wasn’t a good camera at the time and just thinking ‘I’m just going to take a photo of every room’ and I tried to stand in the room

and just take it from different angles, just to desperately hold on to something ‘cause, as you’re growing up there might be some photos of us growing up in that house, but not capturing every room from every angle so you can try and walk through it. It might sound a bit desperate or obsessional or weird to want to do that, but for me I felt quite desperate. The house was going. I couldn’t do anything about it, it wasn’t my house. And the situation was that the house needed to go. But I think it wouldn’t have mattered so much if the circumstances were my mam and dad were just downsizing, I don’t know. EM: You questioned whether your husband even knew about this object. MFB: Yeah. ‘Cause I’ve not really wanted needed to share this with anyone… EM: But why’s that? MFB: It’s just something that I needed for me. EM: Is it a therapeutic object? MFB: Yeah, definitely. Definitely, definitely. EM: So, hypothetically. If there was a fire in your house and.. what would you save? Obviously you’d save your husband and your dogs. MFB: Yep.

EM: But what’s the next thing down you would rescue? MFB: Oh my God. I guess in our technological age, you’d have to go for your hard drive. Because I was gonna’ say my wedding albums and my honeymoon album and my hen do album…but all of those photos are actually on… on the hard drive. So I guess the hard drive. I know that sounds really naff ‘cause I’m not into technology but that’s got a lot of holidays, memories, everything on it. Cause I don’t print photos as much. God, what would…? its overwhelming, see I’m panicked. Actually, this brings us to a really interesting dream I had about six weeks ago where I was in a building, an epic beautiful... I don’t know it could have been Georgian, Elizabethan, but it was a communal building. And I was there with my mum and my sister and it was full of objects. It was almost like a big antiques centre but we lived in a part of it. And the building was falling down and residents kept running in and out rescuing their possessions. And me and my mum and my sister went to the extremes, where floors were falling beneath us and we were still going in to rescue just the next object and just the next object. And we were even thinking ‘We need to rescue that for somebody else, ‘cause that looks amazing’ and anyway, whoever was governing the collapse of this building got so irate that they were gonna’ shoot at us. They wouldn’t let us back out with these few last objects, they were gonna’ shoot us down like ‘What are you doing?!’ (laughs) But it was this real feeling of panic that these things were really important, so I definitely have a love/hate thing with attachment. Because it’s that fear of facing having to let go of something. I had to let go of a doll that I’d had since I was

about 7 that my puppy chewed up. I had to throw it away, there’s no point keeping it anymore… she annihilated it. And they’ve chewed the nose on that teddy bear that I talked about and I was really gutted but, they’re not to know as puppies. So things happen and you have to accept that they perish and… but I don’t know, I’m struggling ‘cause I’m thinking through my catalogue of things that I have in my house. EM: Nothing jumps out to you? MFB: I have so much stuff. It’s that bad, isn’t it? EM: Do you think that’s a sign of materialism or is it a sign of too many things that you associate… that you value? MFB: Yeah, I value a lot of things and it’s like when somebody says to you ‘what’s your favourite album of all time?’ or ‘your favourite film?’ but you can’t pin point one or you will but you say ‘oh and this, and this’ because there’s so many epic things that do different things for you. Like this (the cube house) is very personal, memory related. It’s not valuable as in its made of cheap wood and paper but its valuable as in it was pivotal for me to come to terms and put it together and face these things. It’s personal. Whereas, I own other things that are precious, they’re antique or they’re rare they’re just… ‘are you ever gonna’ find that again?’ They’re not worth a lot, it’s just rare and intriguing. So lots of different things and this is why it starts panicking me, thinking about objects because… there is these different attachments that you don’t think about on a day to day level until you’re questioned and you’re like ‘Oh!’ like the girl in labyrinth, where she won’t give anything away

and the lady is carrying all her possessions on her back… And then you start thinking, ‘Well what’s important? These possessions or my memories?’ or ‘the here and now?’ or ‘the future?’ (laughs) EM: Does this house also represent your family? MFB: Oh yeah I think… did I tell them that I did this? Have I shown them it? No, I haven’t shown them it. EM: Do you think if the context was still applied, if this passed onto another member of your family that lived there they’d have the same association? MFB: I mean I can’t speak for them, but I think that they might feel sad like ‘Oh this is so Michelle, facing the sadness’ They might not want it. They might feel nostalgic they might feel sad they might think ‘Oh no, I don’t want to have that hanging around.’ I don’t think my mam would like it. EM: And that’s because of the negative… memory? MFB: Association. I think she’d feel really sad that I felt the need to do it. She’d feel sad that it’s made me feel like that. That’s just kind of my mum, though. She’d feel guilty I think. EM: So do you know of anyone else’s object, in this context? Has anyone ever told you about their precious, treasured object? What about your husbands? Does he have anything?

MFB: Oh! He has a clock, that doesn’t work. A wall clock. Very retro, sunbeam burst thing that’s quite in fashion now, but that’s not why he’s got it. It’s from his grandma and grandad’s house and he used to put tinsel around it every Christmas and it just reminds him of them and that’s what he chose from the house, but it never works (laughs) I keep meaning to order an old clock mechanism just to fix it. And then he owns a mouth organ of his grandad’s which he never plays. But he likes to keep for his grandad. EM: Do either of those objects play a part in your identity like this (the house cubes) does? MFB: Yeah in that they mean a lot to him. So I guess when you’re polishing something like that, cleaning the room and I see them and I always think about his association and how it makes me feel. EM: Is it a good feeling? MFB: Yeah! It’s sad for him but its good that he’s got that connection and that bond. He was really close to his grandma and grandad. So it does affect but I guess not directly. Yeah, see this is it. Having travelled to developing countries in south America, where people don’t live like this, I guess probably not. It does on the surface feel materialistic. Because it’s bricks and mortar, but, what it allows me to do is just visualise… It’s just making a connection between memories. So I guess, maybe yeah it could (the cube house) be represented in a different way, depending on the cultural surroundings you were in or I mean, I love to think if it was Victorian times it was this

grand, Victorian house (laughs) I’ve always aspired to have one of those! But it’s this quirky little house that used to drive me nuts. My mam used to paint every ridiculous colour and it used to change and sometimes wasn’t very practical and we never knew where anything was… EM: So what’s your favourite memory of this house? MFB: The first thing that’s come to mind, I think because I’m looking at rooms, is when my dad built two bedrooms in the loft. Because we were a big family and it was a council house and a fairly big house but there was five kids and two adults. So he built these two rooms so we could all have our own separate spaces. And my mum took me to go and choose wallpaper and the colour of my bedding and accessories for my room. And prior to that there was myself, my younger brother and my younger sister sharing a room and they’d set up all these sections, they’d done it so well. So we all had our own space with those beds with furniture and desks and things underneath, they were like a high bed. My mum and dad were just amazing like that. They were really good at one-on-one time and making you feel like you had your own space and your own things. We weren’t spoilt, we were good at sharing and we valued what we had. But we all… maybe cause there was so many of us, they just wanted to make sure that we felt like we had our own little, personal space. So that was a really nice, nice memory. EM: So, how long did you live in this house?

MFB: Oh god, must have moved in there when I was about… maybe about seven or eight. Maybe? And then I left when I was eighteen. So, ten years. The one where we lived prior to that was round the corner and they decided to knock them all down and rebuild new housing. Then the one prior to that was knocked down as well. Another ex-council house that the council decided to redevelop the whole area. EM: Where did you go after this? MFB: I moved out and moved to Leeds to work for the first time and share a flat. I don’t even go to the village where that house is anymore. Which is the village I grew up in the whole of my life. So it’s changed a massive part of my life really. EM: The house before that was knocked down, did you feel the same way about this house we’re talking about? MFB: Very attached, this is the funny thing of having to print this out and come to terms with looking at the rooms. I can visualise the whole of the other house, the back garden… I can visualise everything. I can go back and remember the dress that I wore, probably because there’s a photo of this somewhere, the dress I wore in the front garden playing. I can remember the pantry in that house. I can remember my dad putting sheets up and making me a giant wendy house in the giant hallway. But, I’m sure we were sad because nobody wants to- especially a child, doesn’t want to give up their their bedroom and everything like that. But, because it was out of our hands, and maybe because I was at a different age, my

little sister or my little brother was born at that time we needed more space. So I guess, the move didn’t matter, but I think with this, even though this house must have been sold when I was about 30, so I’m an adult… you’d think that I would have already maybe detached. ‘Cause I’d been gone twelve years but no, the circumstances, this rift that was caused in the family… just… EM: Is that what made you want to recreate this house and not the other ones? MFB: Yeah. EM: That negative memory? MFB: It was facing it, facing the negative memory. Letting go of something you didn’t want to let go of. Maybe I didn’t want to let go of those other houses, that other house when I was eight. But, when you’re eight what do you do about it? And I don’t think… I think, it’s sad because the council decided to knock it down and it wasn’t us just deciding to move but… I just couldn’t come to terms with the fact that this house was going. Well, it still exists for somebody else but it’s gone for us. EM: How do you feel about not seeing it (the house cubes) in a house shape? Does it feel unnatural? MFB: It just feels quite reflective of the fragmentation of the whole thing to be honest. But that was why I devised it to be put that way. Um, it does make

be put that way. It does make me want to… it just makes me look at them thinking that rooms upside down, that’s downstairs it should be upstairs, that kind of thing. Which, it kind of makes it more of a practical, engineering thing rather than an emotional thing. EM: It doesn’t make you uncomfortable? MFB: No! I guess that’s just my practical side wanting to just put it back together. But yeah, somebody else if they went through this process, they may have done something which was much more personal. They may have chosen the colour of the room, which is maybe a bit abstract but yet has more of athis is very literal. But I needed it to be that, just to face those photos (laughs) it didn’t need to be anything else, it needed to be quite raw on that level I think. EM: And you’ve done it in a way that when its fully formed its very much like a child’s drawing of a house. Like we all do, you know, a square with a triangle on top. MFB: Yeah, yeah. EM: Because they’re all a recreation of your childhood because of that. I mean we’ve talked about the history of it regarding when you were a child but is there an element of your inner child… are you trying to satisfy the child by making this? Something for you to play with? MFB: Yeah I think there’s parts of me where I think ‘oh, I’ve never really grown up’ (laughs) but then there’s parts of me

that I think I can be very serious and I’ve felt I’ve lost my inner child so maybe it’s an amalgamation. Cause it’s hard to say really because sometimes, maybe you could... I don’t know, if you were trying to psychoanalyse it, somebody could think ‘oh are you not thinking this is more reflective of ten years ago rather than, I don’t know, twenty years ago when you maybe lived there?’ Are you avoiding going right back to childhood because you can’t face the memories of it, but yet, on a day to day level, how often do you get to think about your childhood? (laughs) You’re doing responsible things, day to day things, that you don’t always reminisce. So it’s like, I don’t want to put a narrative or a theory to something that it could be, it could be just that I’m thinking too much about it (laughs), I don’t know. EM: How do these questions make you feel? Have you ever thought of any of this before? MFB: I think it was Cath (George), had questioned me about it sitting in my studio and I might have gone a little bit into what it was about. But not to this extent and um, I find it quite interesting. I mean its not pre-empted. I’ve obviously been thinking about how that house and the memory of my childhood and the situations that followed has affected me, but I’ve not thought about it to the level that we’re discussing it now. That’s why I’m a little bit wary of… It’s all, it’s all kind of thrown in the mix really. It’s like, you don’t just want to hang on to ‘Am I just thinking this ‘cause of this?’ Do you see what I mean? It’s just kind of… in the moment it could be that, couldn’t it?

EM: How do you feel about the general public looking at it and seeing it? MFB: You know what? I tend to just go with my heart. So when you said to me ‘oh you know I’m thinking about doing this exhibition based upon objects, not about art particularly just the association of objects’ I just actually thought of something that was personal to me I don’t think of the consequences of it and that tends to be how I am in my artwork and maybe that’s why I’m trying to be less subjective at the minute, because I don’t need to reveal everything about me or you know there’s different ways of approaching things. I don’t think it’s too personal. It depends what you want to do with the story, but... I’ve always felt I’ve got nothing to hide and it’s really important to talk about things like this, because it happens to people and I guess, the movies that I watch, the books that I read, the theory of psychoanalysis, different music that I listen to… I’ll always go to the ones that really leave me questioning ‘oh! That kind of underpins something that I felt about this’, so for me to deny the public the life of my story and association would be like saying, ‘well Radiohead aren’t going to make any more music’, do you see what I mean? I guess sometimes you’ve got to put yourself out there to an extent and share these things. It might speak to somebody, it might not. If somebody’s not attached to the home or have not had that experience that I’ve had or feel that ambivalence towards something or that fear, then they might just be like ‘what’s that all about?’ (laughs) or they might read it completely differently, but that’s fine.

EM: Do you think they will look at the house differently without the story? What do you think they’ll think? MFB: It’s really hard to think objectively when you know everything about it but, I mean… the fact that they’re gonna’ know that somebody has handmade it, it’s going to lead them to question ‘To what purpose? To what need?’ So that might be a way in. Or it might read something quite political or the fact that you know, it’s hard to get mortgages (laughs) these days and you know, are we going to become, you know, a generation of people who rent? Like other European countries? They might look at it from that kind of practical sense, rather than a particularly emotional kind of sense. But I think the fact that you can tell it’s a specific person’s house rather than a generic house… EM: So does it have any relationship with your art practice? MFB: Yeah, I think so. I mean I’ve had tutors ask me ‘you should maybe do something more with that, try it in a different scale’ and this, that and the other and I am working with giant things, giant scale things, as opposed to small miniatures, so I think it has had an impact. But I didn’t make it as a work of art, I made it as a way of expressing feeling and challenging something. But it was made for me in mind. I never really thought I’d exhibit it, but it’s really lovely to have the opportunity to exhibit it, just because of the story associated with it, because I think sometimes with art, when you try and be less subjective with your

thinking, you want to let them in but don’t want the work to be too fixed. Um, but yet, even if that object weren’t there and it’s just this story of what I’ve said about it… that feels very human, that speaks volumes. And sometimes I feel like you take these layers away in art. And… but yeah there’s something really… something there to talk about and to feel and… we spend so much time as artists trying to capture this… I don’t know, something, a representation to try and speak and unpick things. But yet, you could just talk about it (laughs) and share a story or share the thoughts that you haven’t come to terms with or are still trying to understand. EM: Is your practice all encompassing? MFB: Yeah. Some people, even on the course, some people have said ‘oh, it’s so personal!’ and it makes them a bit wary cause if you’ve got somebody that’s not attached to their work personally, it can be a bit uncomfortable and they can see it as a form of therapy. I don’t know any other way, I’m quite an emotional, sensitive person and I guess I like to challenge that. I like to understand why and I like to be able to express it and get other opinions, maybe change my viewpoint. All my latest work is about perspective. And there’s no clear narrative represented to have a perspective on, but it’s just this idea of looking at things from a different angle and things being fractured and complicated and unique, but yet part of a bigger, web like constellation. EM: So when I’m looking at your art I’m looking at you?

MFB: Well, I don’t think it’s that literal. But I guess, it’s walking in my mind. It’s come from- well I guess you could say, any works come from an artist’s mind, but I guess mine comes with a heart (laughs) like, yeah it’s definitely attached. They say that a work is autonomous. But, I think you have to detach yourself from objects and work all the time as artists, you do. But yet, I mean just choosing a title for something can make it come alive on its own, do you know what I mean? EM: When we look at something like Tracey Emin’s bed, that’s incredibly personal but she has still consciously chosen how to display that part of her life. MFB: Yeah. EM: Is that something you do? MFB: Yeah, I think I’m doing it more these days, ‘cause I used to feel like I overworked my work, I used to try and put too much into it because I was trying to express this abundance of feeling and confusion and it was just overloaded, so pairing back is important. EM: Is there still more to show? MFB: Oh, endless I think. It could be endless. But this is it! You look at artists who spend whole lifetimes of work addressing one concept. I’m trying to think... somebody like

Antony Gormley who looks at the space of the body and you just think, how can you keep finding new ways of approaching the same subject, but yet I guess, if you’re still coming to terms with something or you’re still trying to look at it from another point of view, it could be endless. I see a lot of the works that I’m doing at the minute as infinite. I read recently and I can’t put the name to it, that infinite is not eternity. Actually I think it was Monica from Raqs Media Collective, I think it was something I read of theirs. Infinite is not eternity and I need to unpick that. Because infinite, I just see as a longing you’re still trying to fulfil… might never be fulfilled. Even when you think you’re reaching fulfilment, oh it might need to be bigger and more. EM: Do you feel fulfilled when you look at this object? MFB: I think it does what it needed to do. And it still continues to do it, in that I don’t really need to make it again but I can keep building and unbuilding and… it kind of perpetuates the unsettled emotions. It allows me to change it and break it down and build it back up and so, some people might think ‘oh it’s a bit sadistic then why would you want to do that?’ or hold onto that, but I think you can’t take away something that’s happened. But maybe you can reflect on it differently, so it can change day to day every time you look at it. Some days I might be ‘oh yeah, I’m in a good mood and I’ve got happy memories’ and then the next day it could be completely different, but… EM: Have you learnt anything about yourself from it?

MFB: I feel stronger for doing it. I just feel like, I always try and challenge my fears because I will over think and other think and then make myself feel negative anyway because I’m probably exhausted from thinking about it, so why not try and confront things? And look at them from another perspective. So I think it helps me grow and feel stronger by facing the things that potentially are painful. EM: Where was challenging your fears coming from, where does that instinct come from? MFB: I guess it’s being fearful of fear and not wanting to be fearful of fear anymore. You just want to empower yourself and it doesn’t have to be anything pivotal. Just thinking about things you hear from people who suffer from horrendous illnesses or people, um, who are fleeing countries and then become asylum seekers, I’ve never had to face anything in life like that but yet, I guess, the challenges, the smaller challenges that I’ve had in life do really impact me emotionally and I guess to be a healthier and stronger person, to be able to understand and learn what it’s about… It’s not that I want to be some superhero (laughs) I just want to be an average person who can just talk through these things and not feel really, really sad and debilitated by them and just be able to reason a little bit or face things without feeling lonely and isolated. Is that a bit intense? (laughs) EM: Is that the way it makes you feel?

MFB: Well you’re making a little, tiny object for yourself and I guess it’s you and the object if you’re not showing it to other people and talking about it a lot it is a personal thing that makes you feel… I don’t know… EM: Safe? MFB: Yeah. Because I grew up in a big family, I always had people there it was never quiet. I’m not used to being solitary really. And this is quite a solitary thing. EM: You’re using the past tense. You say ‘you had’… is this a representation of that? Of having… MFB: Yeah, isn’t that strange? I still have a big family. EM: But you’re talking about it as if you don’t. MFB: Well this is it, I think this might be something to do with it in that I went up to see my family recently and yeah we’re fragmented, living in different places, like most people are in this day and age but, you know, there was quite a few of us there and I had a great time but, I guess, like any family where there’s been a separation, it changes something, so I guess I just think about the family different now. I see us more as… yeah, cause even when, even when I was grown up, going back to that 80

family home it was still like I was a child because my mum and dad are quite young at heart, so we’d still have Christmas’s and Christmas sacks and a tea party when we all got together. When you watch the Christmas movies on TV and they all come back together as a family, it does seem like, you know, you can go back to your childhood. But I guess it’s not like that now. EM: Is it a case of that you can take it apart, it becomes fragmented… does that represent your family now? MFB: Yeah, possibly. ‘Cause when you think about it… (MFB picks up the individual blocks) my room and my brother’s room… what was that? Oh that was the living room so that was a shared space, kitchen – shared. Games room, that was like, that was an addition. And they made a bar. I don’t think that the bar was that well used in the end ‘cause, um, bathroom - shared space. Mam and dad’s room, sister’s room. My brother’s room didn’t even make it on there, my other brother, my older brother. He wasn’t there for a long time at that stage and it was on the back of the house. (laughs) EM: Just added on. MFB: Yeah. And my other sister’s room isn’t on there ‘cause she’d left… she’d left as well before that point, so I guess that’s a reflection in time, literally, of who still had rooms set up from when we used to be there. 81

EM: So it’s a snapshot of a specific period… MFB: Yeah. EM: But doesn’t represent the whole of your family. MFB: No, it doesn’t. No…

EM: So that’s interesting because you were talking about it and I thought you only had three siblings. MFB: Yeah. EM: But, that’s because this is very specific to a very specific time MFB: Yeah. EM: And house. When in reality you have two more (siblings). MFB: Yeah there was five of us that did grow up there. EM: But because the other two didn’t live here, they’re not represented? MFB: Well I didn’t. I didn’t really live there at that time, but my room, I guess, nobody needed to be up there, so it was left as my room and the same with my brother, up in 82

the loft, it was always classed as his room and my sister was living there so it was still her room. Whereas, my mam and dad’s bedroom was extended into my older sister’s bedroom so that doesn’t represent her anymore. And the room at the back of the house, that used to be an old coal shed, that was made into a room and attached to the house, that didn’t exist as a bedroom anymore. I think they used to iron in there- oh no! it was when the extension was added on and it became the bar. Yeah that’s what it became. So yeah its very representational of that moment in time really…it’s like a stasis… it could have been represented before then, as a whole family. But I guess that was the reality of what was left. It’s the bones of what was left and that’s what I saw when I left that house (laughs). EM: Have you discovered anything or learnt anything from this? MFB: Yeah! EM: What have you learnt? MFB: To really look at an object objectively in a dialogue with somebody, ‘cause I think even though I’ve made it and talked about it briefly, I think that I still have some ambivalence with it. I don’t sit it on my bedside cabinet to wake up every morning. I just know that it exists and I can go back to it and challenge it a little bit now and then. 83

EM: What do you mean challenge it? MFB: Well it challenges me (laughs) and then I challenge myself.

Medina Hammad

Medina Hammad lives and works in Lincoln. She studied at

Chelsea School of Art, Newport Art College and De Montfort University. Exhibitions include: Art Collection Showcase, Project Space Plus – University of Lincoln, 2015; (detail) H Project Space – Bangkok. Transition Gallery London and Usher Gallery Lincoln, 2014; Pebbles and Avalanches, The Crossley Gallery - Dean Clough, 2010; Medina Hammad – Recent Drawings Tyler School of Art Philadelphia, 2004; Medina Hammad – New and Recent Work, 4 Victoria Street, Bristol (Solo exhibition) 2002; ‘Sudanese Stories’ (Solo exhibition) Usher Gallery Lincoln, Bradford University Peterborough Art Gallery, 1999/2000. I make paintings and drawings. Essentially, I am concerned with the use of self in Fine Art practice. A Sudanese/British background has made a multi-cultural context, central to this output. To date, practice has, largely involved production of autobiographical, narrative, work, with references to family life and other personal events. More recently, though I have been drawing upon the notion of the constructed exotic, making specific reference to material from the Arabian Nights. This has resulted in a variety of pieces. Some link directly, with the tales themselves but others employ use of the symbolic value of exotic creatures. These intentions have evolved through interaction with Post-Colonial/Post Modern discourse. The self/other can now be interpreted differently – contemporary practice now opens up possibilities of new processes, using hybridity and non linear narrative.

EM: Can you describe the object? MH: It's a compact mirror or pair of mirrors and its about three and a half, four inches square. And it's made out of dark green plastic with a little gold plastic disk in the centre of each square and you open it out and there's a square mirror that shows your face as it is and then there's a little circular mirror opposite that magnifies the face slightly. EM: And how long have you had them? MH: I've had it since... let me just kind of get this kind of approximately right... Summer 2011 EM: Where did you get them from? MH: I got them from my late mum's house as I was clearing it out. EM: Did they belong to her? MH: It did. EM: Do you know where she got them from? MH: No, I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t. I would imagine knowing my mum from a, cheap and cheerful shop when she was probably out with her cousin getting her groceries and stuff. EM: Would she have used it?

MH: Yes. She used it a lot. My mum was disabled she’d had polio when she was very young and as she got older her body was unable to compensate. So it was quite important to her in her little bungalow that certain things were very near to hand and near her armchair in her lounge she had a set of plastic drawers and then a little table next to that. And she had all sorts of things that she'd needed to hand and she'd make herself a cup of tea in the mornings and sit there and then she'd fix her hair you know, if she wanted to put a bit of lipstick on or whatever or hand cream she'd comb her hair out, check her face. And that's where this compact mirror, pair of mirrors, lived. And I couldn't swear to it, but I'm pretty certain she used it daily and I'm convinced when I was there, when I'd stay over and be there in the morning, sitting opposite and having a coffee. EM: So it's something you strongly associate with your mother? MH: Yes, yes it is. EM: Do you have a specific memory of her using it or was it just something...? MH: No, no. I don’t know, one morning I wake up and there’s an eyelash in there that’s getting on my nerves which I assume happens for us at some point during the week. There’s something very reassuring and lovely about opening that drawer and seeing that thing that’s worn and used. I mean I have one or two lovely things from my mum little tiny bits of jewellery, nothing extraordinary but a little diamond ring and my

grandmother’s engagement ring, and eternity ring. Now they’re shut away in boxes. I don’t wear that kind of jewellery. Very occasionally I might get them out and reminisce about them. What’s nice about this mirror is that it’s worn and it’s used and it’s hers. And its intimate and it’s nice, it’s like having her there. That’s what I like about it. There’s nothing special about it in terms of monetary worth, it’s not an incredibly fashionable object, it’s not vintage or interesting in that sort of way. It’s just her. It’s her mirror that she used and when I need to I use it. EM: So it provokes good emotions? MH: Oh absolutely, yeah. And also things about aging. I think when you’re young you probably look at yourself in the mirror a lot and when you’re older you don’t, well not everybody, but certainly I am less interested in how I look. It’s more to do with a practical use, fishing out an eyelash or a blemish or something on my skin that feels uncomfortable. Yeah, it’s got very kind of practical use. I suppose I think about my maturity and her maturity and in some ways it makes you think about quite profound things. Getting older. How long you might live. Will I die the same age as her? (laughs) But I don’t want that to sound maudlin or miserable. (laughs) They’re good things, they’re useful things. EM: Have you thought how your mother or your mother’s objects including this mirror having an overlap between your personal life and your art practice? MH: Not yet. Since my mother died I’ve had a very, very busy

time at work and so my practice has had limited engagement. But, I am always making plans and I’m always writing things down and I’m always thinking of what I’d like to make and what I’d like to do. I haven’t made any work yet. I am an autobiographical artist and I’ve certainly made work about my late father’s objects, you know, I lost him over 25 years ago now. And so I, I would like to make some stuff about my mother and I would like to make some stuff about middle age, you know that sort of coming of age later on. I had an idea a body of work called Interior Work and some of that would involve my mother, her objects, my memories of her. I ended up with a lot of her cups. She had a cat and we were very grateful that an old friend of hers, a mature lady just sent a man in a car to pick this little cat up and so I put all these things into a bag without thinking about them and when we were finally clearing out the house we realised there was lots of cups without saucers. I've got some cups with saucers, but its rather wonderful all these cups with no saucers and I'd quite like to do something maybe called mum's cups in a very simplistic way perhaps, certainly as a study. But I have more substantial works in mind but I think I need to feel my way through and work it out. EM: Do you ever feel this mirror could represent you in the same way it represents your mother? MH: It could really because it is a shared object. It’s a shared object that two middle aged women used. (laughs) I think mirrors are very emotive and powerful things but a shared mirror that’s rather... it’s rather interesting especially when you’re thinking about mortality and the processing of things

like grief, so it means a lot to me actually. I thought a lot about what you were asking for your project and stealthily avoided the obvious, the things you pop on a shelf even if they’re a bit shabby. We’ve kind of had this conversation in a tutorial about your little chipped, object. You know I have things like that too, but I thought ‘No let’s really think about this. What have I got that’s set of values are slightly different to that’ and you’re right it’s the things that we overlook sometimes, it is those, well I don’t know, not even tiny they could be large I mean it could be a cupboard I suppose. It could be a soap dish. It you know, it could be a comb it could be an old roller but it’s not and what I do like about it is this practical thing. This shared purpose. (laughs) EM: Does it represent your identity at all? MH: My identity as a daughter, yeah. A daughter and a woman growing older and facing up to growing older. Because I think of terms of my identity it’s something that we don’t talk about. Nobody talks about menopause. Everybody talks about those other hormonal rites of passage. Puberty, adolescence, menstruation, young women starting to engage in sexual activity. I don’t know, marriage, birth. My mother and I very rarely, we hardly ever talked about menopause I think as I knew mine was looming I sort of asked her a little bit about that, she said ‘oh yes, about the same age as me’ so yeah, there are some things in there about female identity I think and as a daughter and as a mum. Certainly those things. EM: Do your um, the people closest to you, know about this mirror?

MH: Do you know? Actually I don’t think they do. My sibling might, probably vaguely remember me you know, ‘cause you go through the process of emptying. ‘Do you want this? Do you feel strongly about that? Let’s take things we gave them back perhaps that’s a good way to start.’ So it might be lost amongst a selection of a load of other objects, I’d say this is actually incredibly personal. I don’t even think my partner realises. EM: Why do you think that is? Why do you think that you haven’t externalised that? MH: I’ve never felt the need to. Again it’s, I think it’s because it’s an object that’s very... its purpose is quite mundane and straightforward. You know, he knows about the jewellery, because that’s photographed in case it ever gets, we ever get burgled and it gets stolen. And he dealt with that for me, he knows about one or two things I have on shelves, he knows there’s some things, one or two things in some boxes under the bed that I can’t quite get rid of but I probably will eventually because I have nobody to give them to. So I have to make some decisions. You know, and I think some years after somebody’s died, you can do that. Initially you do try to keep as much as possible - I did with my dad. And then you realise that actually over the years you just get rid of it, you get rid of the things that you don’t need that you don’t use, you don’t particularly enjoy looking at. You don’t need to look at anymore or think about, you can be much more selective, probably the next thing is chucking some photographs away. I’m choosing the ones I really like and probably the others will live in a shoe box for a while and then eventually I’ll get rid of

them. Because they are of no use to anybody else. Yeah so this little mirror is very kind of ordinary, straightforward thing. So in some ways, well I suppose in terms of your interview, there is something to talk about because that’s what is at the heart of your project, these things are of huge significance but we kind of overlook it, it’s probably a very comfortable relationship that we have with them. It’s probably only of any interest to you and I (laughs). EM: How would you feel if one day if you opened your bedside drawer and it was gone? MH: Oh I’d be worried. You know, I’d try to seek it out. I’d miss it. Well it would be a bit like, I have a lot of books and I tend to kind of you know, get them out, obviously being an artist a lot of them are books full of pictures. And I’ll suddenly have the urge to see a picture and then I’d put it back on the shelf and I might not look at it for another two or three years. And I have a terrible panic that sets in if I suddenly ‘go to the shelf and I can’t find it. And it won’t go away until I’ve tracked down the book. You know I tidy out these bookcases at least once a year, sometimes every couple of years and I have an Oxfam box and when I remove something it’s very deliberate and considered. And I would feel the same way about this little mirror, I’d think ‘Shit, where have I left it?’ Or ‘Where’s it gone. If I haven’t moved it, who has?’ So I would miss it. I would miss it, its part of her and it’s an object that makes me think of her in a very nice way. EM: What do you think will happen to the mirror when you pass away?

MH: I don’t know and it doesn’t matter. The earthly relationship was between her and I. If I had a daughter, if I had a niece, I might say do you want this? But they might not want it. It might just be of no real significance. And actually, yeah. It doesn’t matter. I think that’s another nice thing about getting older, you get more comfortable about sort of prioritising about things and letting go of things, objects, people, places. And I’m not having a huge problem with that. I think you have a greater power to make yourself be more pragmatic and sensible. EM: If there was a fire in your house, what would be the thing that you grab? Apart from living things. MH: I’d have my little cat in one arm and I like to think my partner would be alright and running out the house at the same time. I would take some objects that I have on my desk in my bedroom. I have a photograph of my mother and photograph of my father. They divorced very later on in life after 31 years, so they’re separate photographs on purpose because they kind of were. But under those photographs I have some little objects. One is sort of a precious object, it was my father’s ring. And next to that is a farthing, a safety pin and a reel of green cotton. And I would take those things. EM: But not the mirror? MH: No. No, those things have some different associations. And some of them are sort of mundane objects but some of them aren’t. So yeah, I’d be grabbing those.

EM: Do you know of anyone else’s object in this context? In terms of people close to you, are you aware of any objects that they have attachments to? MH: Let me have a think. My partner’s got a beautiful object. Both his parents are dead and not surprisingly he’s got his mother’s wedding ring. But one of the things he’s got that’s actually very beautiful, his father when he was young used to be a jockey. And he’s got a prize that his father won which is a horse shoe with obviously ribbons and things plaited round and it’s so old and faded. You can kind of barely see what it is. And it sits, actually in an old shell of my father’s. We didn’t think about that actually, it’s not a question of bringing two fathers together. But we have a thing that we call the nature table in our lounge that’s got all sorts of fossils and seed heads and all kinds of things on it. There is a load of shells, they’re not things that I would buy because they’re probably kind of a bit dodgy. Poor little sea creatures being pulled out to be sold to tourists, but none the less they’re beautiful things and I got them second hand from him. And so, this lovely shell, used to be on the nature table and Chris just put this little equine prize in it. I don’t know if he looks at it much, but I think he’s sort of pleased to know it’s there. I suppose if I think of other people, a lot of women I know wear late female relative’s jewellery. And I have a neighbour who did a really lovely thing and she took some of her mum’s old jewellery which was not to her taste and she took it to a contemporary jeweller who made it into something for her. He sort of recycled the metal and the gems and made it into something else and I thought that was rather nice. And she has children and they have female relationships and wives, so that stuff will get passed

on but I think that’s rather lovely, the idea of recycling something. Something like that. But yeah, I mean I guess most people have objects, I can’t think of any extraordinary, bizarre relationships with objects actually. I suppose in some ways its quite nice if people die, the folk that are left choose things or inherit things to have around them that they like, that remind them of those people I mean I never wear my mother’s jewellery but it’s highly unlikely that I’d sell it either. It’s not much, I mean a handful of little, little things. I like this idea of recycling. I don’t know, maybe I should one day go to somebody and say ‘Hm, can you make that into some earrings for me? And I don’t mind if they’re odd’ (laughs) EM: Do you like having something of hers that is functional as opposed to ornamental? MH: Yeah I do actually. I do, you know, it’s a bit ‘life goes on’. You know, I like that. I’ve got some chipped Pyrex dishes as well, I use those and I’ve got her egg slicer in my (laughs) drawer another little wooden spoon that I use when I’m tempering spices to grind up up and make a curry. I like that. There’s an old whisk of hers that’s hanging up in the kitchen. It’s a bit crap actually, I’ve got better whisks so I tend to just look at it. Yes, I quite like having some practical things around. I’ve got, again, a menopausal thing. I tend to just wear cotton robes at home, they’re just much more comfortable and I can, at 53 I can, it doesn’t matter if I choose to not get dressed at home that’s up to me. There were three that I sort of inherited from her. Whenever I used to see her I didn’t have to used to take anything with me except a pair of knickers because she’d have things that I could wear and after I had a

bath and get comfortable and get a take away and watch something on television together. The final one has fallen apart and I’m having to sort of go onto the internet to look at various, thick, kaftan-y thing and try and replace. One I remade myself with different fabric. I can’t get rid of them and I just fold them up, they’re in the cupboard. They could have been part of this actually, they’re objects I could have brought in for this, but I think with the mirror it was the reflection thing that the shared thing seemed much more interesting. EM: What sort of experience was it selecting these objects to keep? MH: It’s very rollercoaster. Because once you realise you have to make these decisions there are some things you have strong feelings about. I still had my emotional moments. Some things are very easy to throw away and as you gather momentum with it cause you’ve got to get a house empty, you’ve got to sell it, you’ve got things to do, especially as an executor - as my mother’s executor and my father’s. You’ve got to be practical and you’ve got to push on. But, I mean I think I learnt, I learnt through the experience of emptying my father’s house what I probably needed to do when it came to emptying my mother’s house which was much smaller and less complex in many ways. But it’s very up and down. Some decisions you can make very readily, quickly, easily, something you can just take to charity shops and not think twice about it. And with the photographs of hers, I know that’s difficult, but if they’re nothing to you, if you don’t recognise these people - you don’t even know their names then there is no point. And actually, it doesn’t matter! It doesn’t matter. I’m not a religious person, I

don’t know what happens next but I don’t think it involves any of this (knocks on table). EM: Was there anything that during that experience, was there any elements of it being therapeutic or any closure involved? MH: Yes I mean, I think I felt I did everything that I could and then in the end it was just me, the property, the bits and pieces that was left. I hired a really nice small family firm who specialise in this sort of thing and they just came to do the final clear-out. And he was lovely, he was a very sensitive man and he said to me ‘I don’t think you should be here whilst we do this’ you know all the little, if you like, precious things had gone, everything had been dealt with. There was just the bed and the fire and all of that. Just that stuff that had to go, nothing of any real significance but they had nonetheless been part of her home. So I went to the little square round the corner from her bungalow had a coffee and they phoned me on my mobile when they were done. And that point was very emotional. They drove off with all the stuff, I gave them the cheque. There was just empty rooms with cobwebs, faded bits of carpet, damp patches on the walls, patches where pictures and things had been. That was upsetting. You know, but I suppose I felt ‘well, I’ve done my my best you made me your executor and I’ve done my best with all of your worldly goods. My sibling has what they want, have what they wanted. I have what I wanted. Lots of charity shops have stuff which they recycle and kind of do good with. Other relatives who are close to you have what they wanted. I’m putting it all to bed for you.’ I took lots of photographs of the space that was

empty. I did this with my father’s house as well, and that became work eventually. I don’t know if these will become paintings and drawings but nonetheless it seemed very important to photograph the house when it was full and as it was empty. So yes, I think it did, I felt I’d done my duty and it was a duty she bestowed on me. And I walked away crying but kind of happy. EM: Do you think your mother would have been surprised at the object you chose to keep? MH: Probably yeah, probably some things. I think she would have been probably. But also in other cases, not. She’d have chuckled about the chipped Pyrex casserole dish. But sort of thought ‘oh well’ (laughs) you know she got things from charity shops. She loved second hand books and so she would have had no problem recycling. One of the nicest things actually was I took a load of books to her local library in Bingham, and as I was coming back and forth to the house over the course of the year, one of the nicest things was seeing her books in the library. Some of them were fairly brand new and factual and it was just lovely to see them on the stands which is what they do with new books. And I thought ‘That’s brilliant, you’d love that mum.’ Getting more people to read, she loved libraries. When we were little she didn’t have much money and so we were always taken to the public library to get books out. And everywhere I’ve lived I’ve joined a public library. I’m quite shocked when people don’t, actually. So, yeah she would have been surprised about some things but happy about other stuff I think that we let go of, that I let go of.

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Emily Musgrave

Emily Musgrave is an artist and curator born in York in

1993. After completing her BA in Fine Art at the University of Lincoln in 2014, Emily began to develop her curatorial practice. As an artist, Emily has been featured in Volume 4 of Art Reveal magazine. As curator, Emilyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s exhibitions include Research & Practice, Galley St Martins, Lincoln, 2015; Title at the Collection, The Collection, Lincoln 2015. My curtorial interests lie within the dismantling of the artistâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s practice. I ask the questions, how does an artist think? What can we learn if we ask them to alter their practice? My curatorial projects are often set within a hertiage site or with the idea of heritage in mind. The juxtapostion of heritage sites and contempoary art is one that I have a strong interest in, mostly because of the influence of growing up in a city such as York.

underthearthouse@gmail.com

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MFB: Why this object? EM: It was the first thing I thought of when I was thinking about this project. It was the thing that just kept popping into my mind, ‘cause I told you guys when you were thinking about this project to read the rationale and literally the first thing that pops into your head should be the object. And with me it was the same thing with this, for some reason I kept thinking about it and I think it was just because that partly it was one of my grandparent’s belongings but also because of the aesthetic of it. I just really like it and you can see I’ve used it in all the promotional material, stuff like that. It’s not a particularly unique object in that it’s rare, it doesn’t even have a mark on the bottom. It could be found in a charity shop, I don’t think it’d sell for much - probably less than twenty quid. But it’s still something that is treasured in my mum’s house. My mum is an only child and had to go through these objects, these belongings, this life’s worth of stuff - two lives worth of stuff, obviously it’s just combined because it’s in the same house. And she had to consciously select things. She’s still got stuff that... it depends on subjectivity but people probably would have been thrown away. I mean, this could have definitely been thrown away ‘cause like I say it’s not unique and I don’t have any particular memories of it. I don’t know if my mum does, but it just sat on a shelf in the entrance hall of my grandparent’s house with loads of other glass. I can’t remember it specifically but I was just conscious of it being there. MFB: That surprises me because I expected to hear there was some strong association to your childhood that it’s the reason you selected it. EM: No, it was just there amongst all this other glass which is equally probably not as unique and I don’t know, I think my Nana

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probably had really strange taste. I think this is actually one of my Nana's things rather than my Grandad's. Because while he was a painter and he was a creative person who concentrated on aesthetic, I don't remember having that many ornaments or ornamental things around the house. He had his own little studio where everything was just crammed in because he had so many paintings. It was maybe 8ft by 4ft it was tiny, it was a little box room. So I think this was probably my Nana's more than his but I just know that it had a presence amongst all these other things and I'm only fully aware of it since around 2011 when my mum had to go through all their things and she chose to put it in the bathroom and so I saw it every day while I was living at home and not at University. MFB: I could understand why she would put it in the bathroom maybe because it's got that transparency and it catches the light and I guess because of the colour. EM: It fits really well. In my mum's house I cannot think of a wall in the entire house - this is the kitchen, the bathroom, the hallway, the landing. Every wall has a picture or something aesthetic on the wall, every single one. So there's a lot of things like this (the vase) about. I don't think it's something that she would have bought if she bought it in a charity shop. If I saw it in a charity shop I would think it's a very old-person vase, probably. MFB: So you’ve become custodian of the object and you’ve expressed you probably wouldn’t have bought it yourself or your mum wouldn’t have. But you’re know holding onto and appreciating because it belonged to your grandparents? EM: Yeah. It has its own history, even if that history isn’t anything important. My Nana is still living, she’s 91. My Grandad died last

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year just before his 94th birthday. I think they would be confused as to why we kept it, it was just an ornament, and I don’t think it was anything special. But to my mum who went through all these things, I think she kept these things out of sentimentality because we’ve got a lot of other stuff that other people might not have kept. It’s really strange what you put value in because we do have a lot of ornaments now but I think it’s just because it’s familiar, therefore it’s comforting. All my life they lived in that house, I don’t know if they because they moved around - they moved from London to York when my mum was about 7 or 8 and my mum was born in London... so I don’t know when this was purchased or when it first existed in that context. I don’t know if my mum would remember if it’s something that they bought in Bridlington (where they lived in later life). MFB: I’m kind of chewing over ‘Why this object?’ If it’s not any kind of particular association into a past or your Nana who you think would have chosen it, is it something evocative in the object that is drawing you to it? EM: I think it’s just a thing of comfort again. I look at this (the vase) and I think of my Nana and Grandad. Every time I see it because it was one of their possessions and it’s been given a new context, it’s in a different house but it still has this history of belonging to them. I think it’s just that association of it being there’s and it being there’s and the process that my mum had to go through. It still exists. I probably would have completely forgotten about it and might have not known it even existed before it came to our house actually.

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MFB: It's making me think of an object in my Nana's old house that was glass lots of different colours and I don't know if it was the colour that would have drawn me to that as a child and the fact that she lived in a very small bungalow which had small rooms and low ceilings. So whether it was the light catching the glass, what kind of house did your grandparents live in? EM: They lived in a semi-detached house, it was lovely. A bit dated but probably not to them. MFB: Was it dark? EM: Parts of it was even though there was plenty of windows and a large garden at the back. Or it was just a long garden where my Nana spent a lot of her time. The vase was in front of a window so it would have caught the light. I don't know why, but it reminds me of sweets and stuff. And the colour, turquoise is my mum's favourite colour. If you know her it's definitely a colour you associate with her because she loves that colour. The vase reminds me of my grandparents but then it reminds me a bit of my mum as well just because of that personal connection. It's sort of a history passing down. It's such a humble object. MFB: But it’s still evocative for different reasons. EM: I don’t know if it is evocative, I don’t particularly feel anything when I look at it. It just reminds me of my Nana and Grandad and of this process that we all inevitably will probably have to go through where we are laying out someone’s trajectory through objects and material things and for some reason my mum kept this vase. I don’t know if she actually just kept it because she liked it or if it was a thing where she was sorting through all these things and

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she just couldn't bear to chuck it away. It's not something we've talked about. MFB: It could be that it’s just the colour association. EM: Yeah. We've got a few other things, we've got loads of their glass which is lovely. I've got an appreciation for it now. Before it wouldn't have ever been something that I would have enjoyed really. But now, I could see having some lovely glass things. I appreciate the craft of it now. MFB: Do you think that glass was something that your Nana particularity was drawn to collecting? EM: I don’t know if it was just a generational thing. There were other bits and pieces, everything had its place I would say, in terms of these things. MFB: Did you ever see anything put in the vase? EM: Not that I remember, I can’t really remember it in the house. I just can’t, I know there was glass and that’s the only place I can think where it would have been - in the entrance hall with all the other glass. You come down the stairs and it’s directly opposite. I always looked at it and I remember some specific glass, some flute ones that would hold just a single flow. So I do remember bits and pieces. MFB: So it was more aesthetic than functional? EM: Oh yeah, it was definitely ornamental I think. It’s weird because it came from their house but if I didn’t have it in front of me now and my mum hadn’t put it in her house I probably wouldn’t

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have ever remembered it. I don't remember it specifically in their house, I just remember there being glass. It was all quite beautiful in their own way but again something that could have been quite disposable. It's not unique enough to be worth anything in terms of monetary value. But I think again it's because it's in my mum's bathroom, that's the only reason why I really know it. And I'm just aware that it came from my Nana and Grandad's house because it only appeared there in the last five years or so. My mum has never put anything in it and you can still see the leftovers from when they had it, in terms of dirt. It's just so weird what my mum decided to keep but I think when I have to go through my mum's objects I'll end up keeping things like this. I think that's just part of that process perhaps and as you go through the years of your own life it probably starts to narrow down a bit. My mum's found a function for this. I think my mum is a curator and she doesn't realise it. We all have the ability and we all have the natural skill set to curate but she has montages of paintings and pictures in the living room. There's some of my Grandad's paintings but then there's pictures she's taken from books and framed and there's postcards. MFB: So it sounds like the choosing of the objects to keep, to be custodian of, have been selected based upon where they can fit in her existing surroundings. EM: Possibly, she has this really ugly rug in her bedroom which I know for a fact she would not choose to buy, she would get something completely different. I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know how to describe it, but itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s peach and has a floral pattern. But she has that in her bedroom, she kept it. The only reason I can think of why she kept it is because it belonged to my Nana and Grandad. MFB: Do you think your mum would call it ugly too?

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EM: Yeah. I reckon so, I don't think she likes it particularly. It's definitely not something she'd choose, I know that for a fact. MFB: She feels the need to hold onto it all the same? EM: Yeah, I think it's possibly because her house is small she's just given it a function. If we rolled it up it wouldn't go anywhere. So I think rather than chucking it out she's just decided to put it on the floor. MFB: Was there a volume of objects and things that had to be given away? EM: I don’t actually know, I don’t think my mum has given anything away. Possibly when she was clearly out the house, inevitably things did go because she would have thought logically about it. I remember coming downstairs after we’d moved everything and there was just all this furniture piled up in the back room. It was just things like chairs which we still have and mum hasn’t reupholstered them because she doesn’t want to even though they’re that scratchy material. I think they’re probably from the 60’s. We have a sideboard as well and she won’t paint that because she’s got an attachment to it. I just don’t think she wants to change it because when you change them the history moves on. I kind of agree, I do. I think if it was me I’d be exactly the same. MFB: Maybe losing its original charm? EM: I think it becomes something else and officially becomes someone else’s possession when that person chooses to paint it and you can’t visualise it being in the original house anymore. I don’t know, grief is a funny thing. You can mourn and grieve without anyone actually passing away and I think it’s a process my mum has been through. My Grandad was very quiet and reserved. He had had been through World War II and I think that probably played a part in it, he never

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ever spoke about it. But when mum went through his things she’s found factual books on that topic and she found his diaries from that time. We discovered he'd been to Canada, Africa and India. All these wonderful places it was just under a horrible circumstance. My Nana actually pretended to be older than she was and went to Italy and stayed in Gracie Fields house who was a singer during that era, quite a famous one who would boost morale. I don't know how she ended up staying at Gracie Field's house. Nana actually gave me a pendant from Italy which I'm presuming must have been from when she there during World War II, I don't actually know what she did there. My mum might know. Somehow my Nana managed to fake her age and go join the war effort which is bizarre. My Grandad was a navigator in Halifax planes so I think there was a lot of trauma from being in planes that were aiding destruction. He never talked about it so it was really weird when we found these books. It was quite revealing. I don’t know how much of a part it plays in his artistic process and the possessions he kept because like I say, I think all these ornamental objects were much more my Nana’s than his. I can only remember one thing of his which was a birdcage with a wind up bird that sang and it was so old. I think we’ll have it somewhere. MFB: It sounds really magical. EM: Yeah I remember him playing it for me once and of course being about 7 years old I touched the bird and my Grandad was never an angry person but I definitely knew of his dissatisfaction with me doing that. I think he tutted at me. I don’t think I ever heard him raise his voice. I don’t really remember him saying much. It’s strange thinking about it but he was such a lovely bloke. He was in his 80’s but will still do these little skips to make us laugh. MFB: You’ve talked about lots of really loaded artefacts and objects, books and journals. Really loaded pieces and then the magical wind up bird that probably has some real value.

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MFB: But you've brought something in that's... EM: It has absolutely no association for me in terms of that. There's no conversation about this vase which was so precious to them, I mean it probably wasn't. I can imagine them possibly going 'Why would you keep that?' out of everything and yet here it is. MFB: Does that make you think about if a family member is in the same situation as you when you're elderly? What might they keep of yours? EM: I keep so much random stuff. I have piles of train tickets, which I do go through occasionally and thin out. MFB: What makes you want to hold onto those? EM: I think it's just because when usually when I go see my partner or when we go do something I save them. The most recent ones are from when we went to Scarborough for a day trip which was lovely because I used to go there all the time when I was younger. I'll look at the tickets and see a trip to London and think about the dates but I can't always remember what I did there. It will have been going to see my boyfriend or a day trip into London as he lived down there at the time. It's weird keeping them. I keep loads of receipts and stuff to the point where Rishi always gives me them. Half the time I don't keep them, it depends where it is. I've got one from my birthday still from this year. MFB: Do you feel because youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve been doing that for a while you know have to hold onto every receipt and ticket?you know have to hold onto every receipt and ticket? EM: No, it depends on the day. I do feel a bit reluctant to put them

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in the bin even when I just get into Lincoln, I don't know why. I just think I kind of want to hold onto it for a bit, I really don't know why though. It's never a special journey and I'm not in Lincoln usually for a special reason. MFB: It sounds like you're tracking events. EM: A little bit, I don't know. I think it's just nice to hold on to them. MFB: They kind of sound like they jog the memory to kind of challenge 'When was that? Why did I go there, who was I with?' EM: I’ve got loads of little sentimental things but I think it's something to do with materialism in that when I was growing up we didn't have a lot of money. So I don't know if I hold onto these things for that reason, something to do with that. I think it probably plays a role in all this too. MFB: I think that's healthy to value objects not just replace them. EM: Yeah I think it’s almost a sickness, it’s an illness when people dispose of functional things. I think it was Justin Bieber who modelled for Calvin Klein not that long ago who said he gets given so many free boxers that when he’s worn one he just throws it away. He won’t even stick it in the washer which is insane. Obviously he’s got a lot of money and if I was in the same position it would probably be the same thing. I don’t know if I’d hold onto underwear if I just kept been given so many that I could just wear one and then chuck it. It’s a strange thing to think about because I can criticise him but at the same time if I was in the same position I’d probably do exactly the same. It’s like when you look at someone who obviously has money and they’ve got a £20,000 watch on. That’s insane, I cannot imagine owning something or wearing something that

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costs that much. But, if I was a millionaire I probably would indulge in that, because you've got the money so why not? But at the same time because I haven't ever had that much money I was thinking about it and if I won the lottery I think I'd just be ill. I wouldn't know what to do with that money and I think I'd be so bored. I hate the idea of not having a career to aspire to anymore and therefore a function and something to actually do. You just have money. I don't know because I don't think I'll even look at the tickets again. I have them all and then I forget where I put them. Some of them I definitely do remember the occasion that went with them. Others, not necessarily. MFB: How do you select what to get rid of? EM: I have regrets about some things that I’ve gotten rid of. Usually clothes. I regret getting rid of something of them because I wish I had them still to wear but a lot of it is stuff that I don’t wear and I give it to a charity shop. But then with these sentimental objects I think it’s kind of the same thing really. Once it’s gone I probably won’t ever think about it again because I don’t have that trigger. MFB: I think being in the creative industry where you need time and money and work through ideas, I guess if you had unlimited cash from winning the lottery it would allow you to have free reign. EM: But then I think I’d feel like it’d be false. We all struggle so hard to get to that point, we’re all skint. I don’t know any artists that are rich beforehand or during (their progress). You might have the resources to create art but you don’t go through that struggle. It doesn’t seem as authentic because you have the money and resources to put your own show on rather than someone approaching you which I think is far more important. I think it’s false.

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MFB: So you think the struggle is actually important to produce authentic work? EM: I think so. I think it's just something that we all have to go through anyway, even out of the art context. We all have to struggle to get to the place we want to be in the first place. We have to use all our resources and then we have to work our way up. You can apply that to so many different professions. You're incredibly lucky to have that opportunity with money of course, I don't want to criticise it's just I think it's just slightly false to just throw yourself into it at the top rather than start at the bottom and work your way up. If I did have money I would be creating art full time because that sounds so wonderful, it sounds so lovely. And obviously I'd be curating too. But I'd be doing my collages but I'd be making them into stained glass windows. It's so expensive so I can't do it now. MFB: That’s interesting to bring it back to the object. The collage in your practice then becoming a stained glass window. EM: I know and I think this vase has something to do with it, I’m not going to lie. Because we had stained glass windows in the bathroom with the glass and I just appreciated it so much. And because I’m from York everywhere you go there’s a church with a stained glass window, so that’s definitely been a subconscious influence as well. I think you just have to appreciate the skill of it, even though the subjects are often religious so while it might not be something everyone can personally connect to you can appreciate the skill and the time and the effort. They are beautiful and they have a purpose, it’s storytelling but there’s something quite magical about it. When I look at the glass I just think it’s so pretty which I know is quite shallow but I do work in a way which is focussed on aesthetic and is mostly ornamental. There’s that kind of appreciation for things like that. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that,

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a lot of the art I like, I like because it's aesthetically pleasing to me. It's not necessarily because of the subject or the theory or the research that goes into it. I love pre-Raphaelite paintings and it's purely because of the way they look. I think they're gorgeous, they're just stunning. And they’re always based on story usually, a narrative like the Lady of Shallot and poetry, sometimes religion. And to be honest they’re horribly misogynistic, these women that need to be saved. You can just roll your eyes and yet it goes against everything I believe as a feminist but they’re just stunning. I think they are anyway, its subjective. I do place a lot of value in the appearance of art and objects. It’s strange because I do not apply that to my personal life. I could not give a shit what people wear or what they look like. I don’t care, I never have. But when it comes to these things and art I think it’s something I value above anything else. I’ll go to the V&A and just look at the sculptures near the courtyard and just look at all these gorgeous sculptures and that Greek style. MFB: How does that make you feel? EM: Fulfilled. Because it’s just so lovely. I know that these are quite shallow words, but they just make me feel happy. I place a lot of value in that, it’s really peculiar.

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Fiona Parkinson

Fiona Parkinson (born in Sheffield in 1982) is an artist based

in Lincoln, England. First developing her taxidermy skills during her BA Hons course in Jewellery & Object at the University of Lincoln, Fiona has become an artist accomplished in the morbid beauty of taxidermy. After receiving the College School of Art Award during her time on her undergraduate degree, Fiona has gone on to exhibit widely. Her work has featured in exhibitions including: Gallery of Art, Legnica, Poland; JOYA Contemporary, Spain; Beit Meirov Gallery, Israel; New Designers Business Centre, London; The National Centre for Craft and Design, Sleaford and The Collection, Lincoln. Fiona Parkinsonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s practice delicately deals with the themes of morality, transience and anthropomorphism. Exploring the idea of object having a humanlike history, Fiona creates her work with the idea of objects and the animals used having past lives.

fionaparky@yahoo.co.uk

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FP: I bought them... Gosh it's been a long time. It was when I was still living in Mapplethorpe, just at a shop there. So they're not like, a really great brand of walking boot but they just mean so much to me now that even though I'm so into my hiking and my walking and I have got some new boots some shiny new boots! But I can't bring myself to wear them, even though they're like they're what the pros would wear (laughs) and so people would think that I'd wanna wear them but my hearts just not in it to wear them at all. I've had them for years and years and years and they're something that I'll always have. EM: ‘Cause you said to me a while ago they were the first thing you pack... FP: Oh they absolutely, absolutely are. They've got like, special status those boots. It's just what you put value in, I just value them above anything, even though they're pretty worthless. They weren't a lot of money to start with and now they've absolutely had it. So it's not like I think 'Ooh, I must make sure the gold necklace is okay' - not that I have one but if I did... so no, the first thing I pack and I've moved house quite a lot, is to just make sure my walking boots were okay. EM: So where’s the furthest they’ve been? FP: Furthest... they’ve been French Alps, Chamonix that’s a good place cause walking round the mountains there you’re kind of crossing borders to different countries. It’s on the junction of Italy and Switzerland so that was really, really

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good walking around there cause you end up in different countries. They have been to the Italian dolomites as well, me and those boots we have like a trust (laughs) I trust those boots cause I've worn them everywhere and I just feel like I know those boots as well. I wouldn't want to put on my new ones. It's really odd how you can feel like that about just an object. EM: So what kind of feelings do you associate or what memories do you associate with them? FP: Well, obviously being out there in the outdoors hiking, climbing... it's where I feel best. It's where my mind feels emptiest, it's where I feel strongest. It's... everything that I want to be doing, so obviously they represent that. Then there's also, which sounds quite odd, but the soles of the shoes have touched all these different places, so I suppose itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a bit odd like, when somebody they might buy something that they're favourite pop star has worn and it's just a tee shirt but it's touched them and I just kind of suppose it's a little bit like that, those boots have touched those rocks wherever that may be so if I now put my hand on the sole of them shoes, it's kind of like I'm physically in them places. They're covered in mud and I'll never clean them I'd hate them to be cleaned, that'd be like 'no!' EM: Whyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s that? FP: I just think like, the mud on them is from... it might be from the Lake District it might from Italy. It's really important to me they're not cleaned, like, if the boyfriend was to wash

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to wash them boots that's like a dumpable offence (laughs) they need to be left just how they are. They've got like an essence of the place still... EM: Like a preservation of the memories? FP: Yeah! Absolutely, absolutely. I mean I've got, I've even got photos of me all over the place in these boots. My new boots just sit there and I can't bring myself to wear them at all, I can't see me wearing them. EM: When's the next time you're planning on wearing them? FP: It'll be the English Lake District next. I'm long overdue a trip there. I normally go several times a year so yeah, that'll be the next one. I don't wear them, and I wouldn't wear them just to wear them down the street day-to-day. That wouldn't feel right. They're for those special kind of, for them moments. I wouldn't just wear them any old time. Like, my boyfriend wears his for festivals and things as well, cause they're good and obviously you're getting muddy and stuff but it wouldn't feel right for me so it's like 'Why aren't you bringing your walking boots?'... no, that's not right. So, no. That wouldn't happen, but I am seriously attached to them, to them boots. EM: So is that why they’re so special to you? Just because they go on this journey with you? Or...? FP: It probably represents the feelings I feel when I’m there... and the fact that it’s my absolute goal. That’s the sort of life I want to be living more of it. So it’s like a connection with that

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I think. It's a hard one to explain, they definitely represent past as well. Like, past memories and associations with past people in my life that I did a lot of them trips with. So it's a bit of that as well I think. EM: So the boots have remained constant? FP: They have! How weird is that? (laughs) Yeah absolutely, absolutely. That's kind of the thing I don't like to say out loud, but yeah thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a bit of that there as well. I do think it's kind of reflected a bit in my work though when I think about it more, because I think about these boots and it's kind of where they've been and what they've seen even though they're just an object.When I'm using such a thing as my grandfather clock in my last piece of work, I'm always thinking as well 'Whatwhere that had been... what that had seen' so, obviously who's house it was in and then obviously the family in that house would have been governed by the time in that piece so it's like, it's more than just an object, it's like... maybe, it's like do the objects almost see and have memory? EM: They have their own history. FP: Yeah absolutely. EM: Yeah. FP: So itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s more than just an object just there. EM: Yeah. Can you describe the boots for me?

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FP: Okay. They are grey and blue suede. They are really rubbish branded boots and I do really like my hiking so everything else that I wear I buy new and I'm okay with that, you know. I don't wear the original jacket that I had first or anything like that and I would be conscious the brands on them. I like to have the nice, branded stuff but they're a rubbish brand. Falling to bits, some of the eyelets have fallen off so they don't even really tie up well anymore but I'm used to walking in them like that so I'll even climb in them like that cause I know how they are. EM: What size are they? FP: 4. EM: Dinky feet. FP: Yeah, dinky feet! EM: Describe what they feel like. FP: Well, I even get soaking wet every time I wear them cause they say waterproof and they were never were cause they’re a rubbish brand, so... soggy feet but, I trust them like I know what they feel like to wear so... so I’m okay hiking in them. EM: What would you feel like if they didn’t exist anymore? They disappeared? FP: Oh Gosh, I’d be so sad. Absolutely, cause when I knew they were going in this exhibition, could I have a big padlock

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on the case? I wouldn't know why somebody would wanna steal them because they are absolutely had it and worthless but... but yeah to me I will always have them. I did think about making a case, putting them on the wall and then maybe that would make me wear my new boots. But, that's just a thought in my head that I can't bring myself to do at the minute. They are nice to have inside though in the house. It's like a... its memories. It's good motivation for what I want to be doing, it's a constant reminder. EM: What does it remind you of? FP: Oh, it reminds me of the mountains, the blue skies, the freedom and the feeling good. The clear mindedness. EM: Do they provoke memories of people? FP: Yeah absolutely. One particular person really. EM: Is it a good or a bad feeling when you think about it? FP: Hmm... (laughs) Dunno the jury is still out on that one. Questionable. (laughs) They are of far more value than anything with monetary value could ever have for me. EM: Is that because of the memories? FP: Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s the memories, itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s the memories and they just represent so much for me. Everything I wanna be doing.

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EM: Do the people closest to you know about this object about these boots? FP: Well, the boyfriend does laugh because he's the one that bought me the new boots. (laughs) and bless him, he spent a lot of money on the new boots for my birthday. And they're still not worn. I can't bring myself to do it and it's getting so I'm gonna be offended him soon really. I do like the boots, they're nice boots, but they're just not my boots even though they were bought for me. They don't feel like my boots. I don't trust them boots either. EM: Why? FP: Cause I've walked everywhere and climbed everywhere in these boots. I've had experiences, the most scariest experiences on the mountain in them boots and I lived to tell the tale. I just trust them. I know exactly how they feel, exactly how they grip. Whereas if they were, even though they're rubbish boots, if I were to wear these fancypants boots... I don't know them. EM: Do you trust them more than people? FP: Do you know what? (laughs) That’s quite a good one! Yeah, I think I do! (laughs) EM: Why do you think that is? Just because they’ve experienced so much with you? FP: They have, it’s been so much. I mean, I’ve had some real lows but some real, real highs and when I’ve had the real, real

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highs I've always been wearing them boots. EM: Literally highs as well. FP: Yeah! Literally highs, yes. There's been some amazing things where I'm looking around myself and I can't believe where I am. Amazing. And that's always been with them boots. EM: What do you think will happen to them, in the future when you pass away? FP: Oh they will be in my will. They just need to be kept, they always need to be kept. I'm trying very hard to, I wouldn't say very hard to drum it into Maisie (Fionaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s daughter) about the hiking and walking we go together and obviously she's a size 1 at the minute. But she must have children and she must also get them into hiking so I'm hoping that these really crappy old boots will pass down. They get to touch more places really. It'd be nice for them to be worn as long as they treasured them like they were a ÂŁ10,000 worth of shoes... and they're not. EM: What if they stop being able to be used as shoes and they fell apart? Would you still like them to be taken to these places? FP: That would be really nice. It's a bit like, carrying people's ashes to places. It is, it is... I feel a bit odd sometimes to be talking about a pair of boots like this, people might keep... I don't know... locks of people's hair or... we all do it, have treasure things. They're souvenirs.

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EM: These boots, are they something that you'd be happy to represent your life and yourself? FP: Absolutely, yeah. I'm slightly embarrassed of them when people look at them and think they are rubbish boots for mixed uses. But I think itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s the best thing to represent me. It's the first thing that I thought, you know without putting thought into it. Just springs into your head so you're not overthinking it. So yeah, I definitely think they represent members from the past but also where I want to be in the future as well. EM: Do they have any overlap with your artist practice? FP: Now I've been thinking about it... It's become more obvious when I use the found objects in my work. But not just the found objects, even the animals. It's about thinking of that as having a past and a past life. So I do think about what the animals have been... and what they've seen. And by having them there this connection to those places where they've been and then with the objects as well, even though they're just objects not living things they've also had a past life. Like I've got some lovely picture frames at home, just big, old, empty gold picture frames. I don't know what I'm doing with them at the minute but it's where they've been hung, what picture they're had in them... and then I can even picture the people look at them. That even interests me. It's like... an object, kind of a memory - it has seen things. And I think I use that in my work.

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EM: You're kind of talk about objects in the way that they're quite human. FP: Yeah absolutely. EM: If this was going to represent your practice, your artist practice... would that be okay? FP: Yeah. I think so. EM: Do you think it's relevant? FP: Yeah I do. EM: Does your personal life overlap with your artist practice or are they two completely separate things? FP: No, I think everything in your life you can't help but put that into your work, really. So... it definitely is there. Memories are there... the way you feel about objects is there. Things that have happened to you can't help but shape your work. I don't think you can separate it. EM: Where do you keep them at home? Are they anywhere special? FP: At the minute they're in a box â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;cause I'm only living in my tiny, little flat. And and all the other shoes get bunged near the door in a heap. And I can't do that with those, so they're in a cupboard in a box.

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EM: So they're quite precious aren't they? And yet when you actually go out, they become quite damaged. FP: Yeah I don't mind them getting muddy and anything like that. Not at all. I think if they got to the stage where I couldn't wear them anymore that'd make me feel a bit sad. I'd probably try stitching them or something. But yeah they're definitely to be worn. Unlike my other boots, they're pristine they're not worn at all. But they're not loved either. EM: And do you think they could be loved in the same way? FP: I don't think so. No. EM: Is that because you didn't buy them? FP: No, they haven't got the memories that these ones have. EM: But you could make more memories. FP: I could make new memories, but these already have them so I’d rather make more with these ones and they’d have all of it in there rather than just from 2016 onwards. I’m sure these boots would be repaired somehow. EM: Can you remember the first, journey you did with them? FP: That would be peak district, back in the day. EM: What year was that?

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FP: Oh Gosh! I'm getting old. I've probably had these boots, being size 4, since about...14/15? And then I used to think at that stage that the Peak District was massive. But really it's very beautiful hills. It's lovely, it really is, I still go back. I still go back now. It's my day trip from here (Lincoln) cause it's really the nearest place that I'd go that I'd enjoy going hiking. So yeah. Back then. EM: Can you remember how that felt? That first journey to the Peak District. FP: Oh I absolutely loved it. I had been before with my dad as kids. Really young kids. But that's kind of like a vague, a vague thing that I could remember. So to go there a bit older so that you can remember it properly, it's just something I did and then never stopped doing. Never will stop doing. I do appreciate the fact that I'm healthy and that I can walk. I have considered in future when I can't anymore. You know, I do appreciate that when I'm hiking up the mountains, cause there's a lot of people that can't do that. EM: Can you describe how you feel when you're on those mountains? FP: Strong. It makes me full of energy even when I’ve been at home and felt down and rubbish.It’s… its freedom. I feel good about myself when I don’t normally, when I’m at home. I feel like I could take on absolutely anything. I try and carry some of it home after each trip. Cause obviously sometimes if I’m feeling down, which I do get... It’s the one thing that can bring me out of sometimes. So, I try and keep it going a bit at home as well, but it is quite hard. It’s like a flick of a switch of a mind-set and it’s the best feeling I love it. (laughs) At the Lake District, I go to Keswick at the Lake District and I have issues with like... oh I don’t know what you’d call it. Like, the sense of being at home. I’ve not felt at home since the first house that I grew up in. So we left there when I was like...

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oh, I don't know...10? I never knew anywhere else not really feel like home. I've moved a lot, but Keswick, although I've never lived there, that's where, if people say 'Home is where the heart is' which sounds so cheesy, it's the only place that I ever feel at home. I know where all the shops are, I can even tell you how the supermarket is laid out. I go there and I feel I come home and I love it. So I always feel good there and I only ever wear those walking boots there, I don't take any other shoes. I've been there on new year. Them boots, they're on and they stay on the whole time. I just love it there, I just love it. So yeah. Keswick will be the next one, definitely. I love it. EM: So where you are now, do you not really feel at home? FP: No, I've not... other than going to the Lake District which is really hard, because I've never lived there. But I do go there, I don't know, six times a year sometimes. Other than there I haven't felt at home since I left, and that was Sheffield, my first house we lived in. EM: But your boots are comforting? Do they make you feel grounded? FP: Oh yeah, absolutely. They just lift my mood absolutely. But, I have never worn them around Lincoln, I don't feel like I could put them on around Lincoln I'd feel... I don't know why... they're just boots. I'd feel bad putting them on in Lincoln like, they shouldn't be worn in Lincoln. It's just walking down the street like, I shouldn't be doing that. So I don't know if they would make me feel better in Lincoln... I don't think it would be the same... No.

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Gerard Williams

Gerard William’s work often invites the audience to re-exam-

ine aspects of their own preconceptions, whether culturally or experientially founded. Sometimes the work therefore plays, in various ways, with socially and historically grounded concerns such as taste, value and redundancy.The artwork often sets out to pursue concerns arising from the relationship of opposites: inside and outside, private and public, made and found, real and pretend, finished and unfinished, well made and ‘badly’ made. Questions are often asked about aspects of the position, reception and role of the artwork relative to context. Throughout his entire body of work Williams has used found objects including things that are both from and of ordinary contemporary life. His trademark meticulousness and attention to detail perhaps emerge most noticeably when timber and fabric are involved. Textiles as repositories of personal and cultural histories, freighted as they can be with values and associations, have long been a fascination and cornerstone to his practice. Over the last three decades Williams’ work has been widely exhibited including appearances at international institutions and public galleries as well as artist run spaces. He has also worked with a number of commercial galleries in the UK and abroad, including at the start of his career with both Anthony d’Offay and Maureen Paley in London. His work has been acquired by and is held in the collections of a number of foundations, private and public collections including: The Arts Council of England Collection; The Contemporary Art Society, London; Leeds City Art Gallery; Fondazione Sandretto Re Rebaudengo, Turin; Castello di Rivara, Contemporary Art Centre Turin; and The Progressive Art Collection, Cleveland, Ohio, USA (which owns three of his embedded window works). Currently Gerard works with two itinerant galleries: Handel Street Projects, London and Parkers Box, New York City.

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GW: It's a tuft of black hair, which is bound on the end with string. And a tooth, which has been buried so it's kind of earth marked. So the, the tuft of hair- they're both from dogs. EM: Right okay. GW: So the tuft of hair is the end of the tail of my dog just before I buried him... the last dog that I had. And the tooth, the tooth that I found at the bottom of the grave that I dug for him. So, when I got to the level that I was going to bury him which was incredibly deep, there were the remains of another dog which was incredible that I should have picked the same spot. I think, I'm pretty sure it was a dog. It's never been proven, but anyway there's a canine tooth at the bottom of this whole. EM: Would you consider that serendipity? GW: Yeah, absolutely yeah, yeah. EM: Why? GW: Well it couldn't be anything other than serendipitous, could it really? EM: Well for some people it could be quite disturbing? GW: No yeah, I found it quite disturbing. In a sense it confirmed my decision about digging the hole there in a weird way. And the idea of this other dog going in where a dog had

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been before which was just really weird, actually. EM: Do you know of- I mean how old is the bit of land, the house that you buried him in? GW: The house was 19th century. EM: Do you have any idea of how old that tooth is? GW: Absolutely no idea whatsoever, no. EM: There's something quite Victorian about keeping a lock of hair. GW: Yeah there is. EM: But this is, in the context of a dog rather than...I mean it's definitely still a loved one, but obviously the act of keeping locks of hair was totally different. GW: It is that, isn't it? Hairs funny stuff though isn't it? It can be beautiful and it can be really abject. And then the association with death is another layer on top of that isn't it? EM: So how long ago did you bury the dog? GW: I’m not absolutely sure actually. It was probably ‘98 or ‘99. Quite a long time ago. EM: And you’ve kept these objects from that time?

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GW: Yeah absolutely, yeah. EM: So do they provoke any emotions? GW: It’s definitely like a keepsake. It’s sort of the only thing I have of that dog really, physically of him because if an animal dies you don’t normally keep anything, do you? EM: What was so special about the dog that you wanted to keep something? GW: Well he was the only dog I'd had that was properly my dog at that point. I think he was 10 or 11 years old so I'd had him for quite a long time. And he was a special dog. His name was Wegman and I called him Wegman because of William Wegman the American artist who called his dog Man Ray. He made his fame with a dog called Man Ray, so I thought if he can call his dog Man Ray after a famous artist, I'll call my dog Wegman after this guy who works with dogs. And William Wegman did actually get to know of my dog. He met him once sort of interestingly on a balcony overlooking the Mall, it was a bit like Buckingham Palace. The dog was invited to a dinner after the opening of a William Wegman show at the ICA in London. So he was the only dog at the dinner, and a lot of the work in the exhibition focused on dogs so that was a bit special. And when William Wegman found out that I’d had to have him (the dog) put down he wrote a really nice letter to me about it. EM: So why did you want to include these objects rather than that letter?

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GW: They’re much more directly associated with the dog. EM: Okay. GW: With the animal. I suppose that letter and the story are really a backstory to them. EM: So, you were saying them making sense together... If one was to disappear and you only had the other, how would that feel? Would it change the association or..? GW: I suppose the two objects together start to tell the story don't they? I mean they wouldn't tell a story to anybody else unless you had a bit of a script, would they? But they sort of connect directly to those two dogs. So I 'spose if I was gonna' lose one I'd lose the tooth, cause it's not my dog and keep the little tuft of hair. EM: What would happen, how would you feel if they both went missing? GW: I'd be pretty upset actually, yeah. But you know, for anybody else they'd sort of be... you know if someone was rummaging through my rubbish and found that, they'd probably just throw it in the bin. EM: Is that what you think will happen when you pass away? GW: I don’t know actually, I’ve no idea I’ve not thought that far ahead.

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EM: How does it make you feel to think about that? GW: Well I spose, I have got so much junk I’m gonna’ have to deal with it myself before I go or somebody else will have to get a skip when I do really. And a lot of the stuff has stories behind it but it’s not stuff that would be meaningful to anybody else. So yeah, there’s a projection of self through the work isn’t there? But behind that or alongside it there’s bound to be somebody else or something else going on. It may be when I’m gone and then they become worthless? EM: And how does that make you feel? GW: I don’t know, probably it’s not an issue because it’s my memory isn’t it? It’s my associations. They’re not going to mean as much to anybody else really. EM: Is there anyone close to you that knows about these objects? GW: A few people, yeah. Not that I've tried to keep them private or anything, but it's not the sort of thing - they've lived in a cabinet for years with a load of other crap and unless you rummage through it and try to find out by asking questions a lot of it would be obscure really. EM: How do you feel about them (the objects) not being in your possession for a week (during the exhibition)? GW: I think, in a sense, it’s quite interesting to have them do

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something - to be active, to be out there and be what they are somehow. So, they become animated, active, doing a job for a little while. EM: A purpose? GW: Yeah. EM: How would you feel about them representing you as an artist? These objects... GW: I ‘spose they begin to tell- I was trying to find something that perhaps wasn’t an art object or associated with art. I’ve got lots of crap that is associated with art/art practice. And in a sense this operates on both levels, it’s not associated with art and the art world but at the same time it is and you don’t necessarily need to understand the art world to understand the objects, so they function on both levels. So yes, I think you know, that does say something specific about me actually, doesn’t it? EM: Have they ever had any influence on your art practice? GW: I don't think so, no. EM: And yet they're objects that you obviously value... I mean does your personal life and your art practice overlap? GW: I suppose so I mean, in terms of influence and overlap of personal life they- I was introduced to William Wegman’s

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work by Morgan who was teaching me at the time and it was like his first teaching job, and he just got right into contemporary art practice. And he literally, well he said he stole some William Wegman videos. Cause he spent a lot of time in New York and he’d bring things back from New York to use in his teaching sessions and that was the first time I encountered William Wegman working with his dog, so there’s that personal connection as well which goes back to Stuart, who was a personal friend and that particular period of time when William Wegman was, I suppose he was becoming known and his work was less commercial... much more kind of, I ‘spose performance based rather than product based. EM: So is your practice all encompassing? GW: No, I don’t think so. I think it probably affords windows into approaches or attitudes or positions or contemplations about various bits of life, but you know, I spose maybe the work are like little windows that allow you to peak into various aspects of what I’m interested in or what I’ve been involved with or... so on and so forth. EM: Hypothetically, if there was a fire in your house and everyone had gotten out and you didn’t have to worry about them, what would be the objects or object you would grab? If you had chance to maybe get one? GW: I’ve no idea actually. I don’t know, not sure. It might an art work, more likely it’ll be an artwork I spose. But which one...?

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EM: But not the (objects)...? GW: No I don’t think it would be that. I mean, as I say, there’s so much crap in my house I’m not sure that would show up on the radar. It wouldn’t be on the forefront of my mind I don’t think. I’m not sure what I’d take. EM: But you value these objects enough to put them in an exhibition? GW: Yeah. EM: But not to save in a fire? GW: It wouldn’t be the first thing I’d save. If I had a bit of time maybe I would. But, I don’t think it’d be the first thing I’d think of and save. EM: Nothing jumps out to you? GW: Not really, no. Why do you think that is? GW: It’d probably be an artwork, you know. EM: Yeah. GW: I think it may be a piece of work that I’d made a long time ago.

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EM: Oh, so one of your own? GW: One of my own, yeah. Something that I’ve still got that’s representative of its time. And that might what I’d go for. Cause they’re kind of irreplaceable things, aren’t they? Well, those (the objects) would be as well. EM: So, if someone was to do a book on you, biographical, of your art practice and these objects were on the cover - would that be okay? GW: I don’t think it’d make sense really, to be honest. EM: Okay. GW: I’m working on a publication a bit like that now, started working on one... so... I can kind of frame that quite clearly and I don’t think, they wouldn’t be on the cover no. The value is primarily about the association with that dog, it’s not an art practice related thing. Or, it doesn’t afford the right kind of, or useful window into who I am relative to my practice I don’t think, anyway. EM: Have you any idea what is going to go on your book? GW: No, at this point. I’m working with a designer who’s probably going to come up with some ideas but we’ve only really got up to the point of looking through mountains of images. He’s started to have a picture of what the possibilities might be I ‘spose.

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EM: Has there been any moments in your life, or objects or associations, histories that have influenced your art practice? GW: There must be, yeah. I canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t think of any earth shattering ones though really. I think though, probably the biggest influence of the development of my art practice was really kind of getting my foot in the door in the contemporary art world in London in the 1980's, working in galleries and with artists and curators and with... people who became really significant and important and I think I learned a huge amount from that. That was probably the biggest influence on my art practice. So, you know, working on exhibitions, working in particular galleries, working for particular curators and then moving that sort of sphere myself with my own work. EM: Have you moved house since you found these objects? GW: Yeah, just once. And you've managed to keep them? GW: Yeah. EM: So is it something that you were very conscious of packing? Did you think 'I don't want to lose these or damage them'? GW: Yeah probably, I don't remember packing them but there's a particular cabinet which is a repository of all sorts of odds and ends and itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s in there so they must have got packed

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up with that I ‘spose, unless... maybe I filled that cabinet when I came up here. I can’t remember to be honest. I’m not sure. And the cabinet itself was left to me by my grandmother, I’m not sure whether... Yeah I did have it at the last house, I did. So it was probably in there at the last house. EM: Have you got any objects that belong to other people that you hold a lot of value over? GW: There’s that chair, that big piece of chair that I think I’vementioned. That's the only one I can think of that jumps to mind and it might be because it’s been spoken about recently, that slice of chair that was part of an artwork by a Polish artist that was given to Stuart Morgan, and then somehow it got into my hands as part of the artwork...I think because it had been shown at a gallery that I worked at. And it never got back to him, because it never had a proper place to live and yet he had stuff stored and everything got burnt at one point cause the storage got burnt down so it was like, I dunno, it was a bit of a lost object. And then he died, so...I don't know. I've tried to get it back to the artist but he's not replied. So that's one example. EM: Does this (the objects) play a part in any spirituality? Or do you believe in spirituality, does it play a part in perhaps a personal philosophy. GW: Blimey that’s a big question. I think you'd have to define spirituality. In relation to these objects?

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EM: Yeah, how do you define it? GW: I think it depends what you’re talking really. In relation specifically to these objects? EM: Yeah, let’s go for these objects. GW: That idea of the keepsake, I think combined with the fact that the grave had that tooth at the bottom of it, there’s something a bit extraordinary about that, isn’t there? That I suppose. if you want to use the word spirituality there’s something happening there isn’t there really? EM: Yeah. Do you believe these play any part in materialism? Do you think you need these objects? Would the memories still exist? GW: Yeah, sure. EM: Is the memory and the object itself, are they on an equal level? Do you need both? GW: No I don't think you need both, but it's kind of like a touchstone isn't it I spose. It's something that is a direct connection to the memory. That physical connect, I mean. So I spose in that sense it's about that physical connection to that dog and to that story of digging the grave and finding the tooth, the remains of the dog. 147

EM: Do you have any opinions on materialism? GW: Materialism as in ownership of things? EM: Yeah owning things, cause this could be seen as a form of materialism. GW: Yeah. I spose I tend to associate... materialism for me is more as a... in terms of the way you’re using it perhaps is much more about owning things that have some sort of status attached to them. That tends to be as it’s used as a term I think, isn’t it? And these don’t really hold those sort of values, do they? So I’m not sure... Its stuff isn’t it and I have far too much stuff, I know that. So it forms part of that stuff, but most of that stuff is not materialistically gathered or doesn’t have value that is about some sort of personal, materialistic structure or something, in the sense that I’m understanding the term. I feel like I need to look it up in a dictionary. EM: Do you feel like maybe, you are chronicling your life through object? Is that something you do? Do these things show a pattern in terms of their age that shows a trajectory of your life? GW: I spose incidentally maybe, but I don’t think it’s- it’s not consciously chronicling either. It’s just hanging onto stuff that’s got some sort of associations or... 148

EM: Could you define it as an archive of your life? GW: I don’t think it’s organised enough to be an archive. I feel like an archive has to have some taxonomy to it. EM: Not necessarily in the museological sense, in the sense of collecting. GW: Yeah. EM: Are these objects as important as your artworks in terms of the status in your house? GW: I spose it depends what the artwork is but if I had to make a choice between one or the other then I’d have to weigh up the value of the artwork with the value of that. EM: In a monetary sense? GW: No, no, it’s not worth money just in terms of its importance to me really I spose. So yeah I can imagine what’s in there might actually boil down to being worth more than some of the things I’ve made. EM: Does your body of work- you know I was talking about this trajectory... GW: I suppose, I can make another artwork can’t I? But I can’t those objects back. 149

EM: You can recreate the artwork, and the feeling? GW: Not necessarily recreating it, it might just be making another- something else that fills a hole or fills a space. Whereas if that stuff went I couldn’t fill the space, except with something fake or equivalent could I? A new artwork wouldn’t be that, it’d be a new artwork. EM: Can you pinpoint events in your life with those artworks? Can you look at that and think ‘That was that year, this happened, I was feeling like this’? GW: Maybe not feelings, but yeah, there’s definitely... I mean I can probably say that with confidence because of the fact that I had to trawl through all this material in order to work towards producing this book. So actually I’ve gone through transparencies, you know, photographs on film and VHS tapes and mini DVs, you know stuff from the past that covers 30 years and so recently I’ve trawled back through that, you know, digitising the digital stuff so bringing it into this century but only- notthat far into this century. There’s a really strong history to that which is associated with place and time and people and events and I spose there was a period of time when I was travelling and exhibiting a lot. So you know, over that period of time I don’t know. Maybe 120 exhibitions and quite a lot of them are all over Europe. So it’s not as if I was staying at home working in a studio, I was going to places and making work. 150

EM: And going back over that work, does it provoke feeling? Emotion? GW: Yeah. EM: Good or bad? GW: Both really I spose. Cause there are situations where works got lost and I know I feel like dealers have ripped me off. You know, they’ve disappeared with work. Or people who’ve collected haven’t paid for it. And it gets all tied up with the politics of the gallery and whoever’s sold it and so on. So there’s that negative aspect of it, yeah. But there’s also- it’s outweighed by the positive side of it. EM: How so? GW: Because so much more has happened that is exciting and fun and that pushed the practice actually. EM: Do you have a favourite artwork because of the associations you have while making it? GW: I don’t know whether a favourite one, but there are ones that stand out from... particular bodies of work that are strongly associated with places or time or people and 151

so on, that you know, are significant for those reasons I â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;spose.

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