Category: Contextual Research

 Accessed 02.11.18

Bill Stephenson, 1988, Streets in the Sky, Park Hill and Hyde Park Flats, Sheffield. https://billstephenson.co.uk/social-documentary/streets-in-the-sky-hyde-park-flats-1988/

Roger Mayne, Urban Landscape. http://www.rogermayne.com/urbanlandscape/urban.html

Dana Lixenberg, 1993-2015, Imperial Courts. http://www.imperialcourtsproject.com/

Nicola Muirhead, In Brutal Presence. https://www.nicolamuirhead.com/inbrutalpresence

Richard Ansett, 2017, Children of Grenfell. http://richardansett.blogspot.com/2017/12/children-of-grenfell.html

Endia Beal, 2016, Am I What You Are Looking For? http://endiabeal.com/#!/upcoming-projects

Charlie Clift, 2018, Portrait of Brixton. https://www.charliecliftphotography.com/work/portrait-of-brixton/

Wendy Ewald, 2003-6, Towards a Promised Land, Margate. http://wendyewald.com/portfolio/margate-towards-a-promised-land/

Toward a Concrete Utopia, 2018, MOMA, New York. https://www.moma.org/calendar/exhibitions/3931

Valentin Jeck. http://www.jeck.ch/

Graham Smith. http://theymadethislondon.com/photography/graham-smith

Kaylynn Deveney, 2007, The Day-to-Day Life of Albert Hastings. https://kaylynndeveney.com/the-day-to-day-life-of-albert-hastings/

Julian Germain. http://www.juliangermain.com/projects/foreveryminute.php http://www.juliangermain.com/projects/no-olho.php

Edmund Clark, 2015-17, In Place of Hate. https://www.edmundclark.com/works/in-place-of-hate/#1

Photovoice. https://photovoice.org/

Keeping an eye on developments around the Olympic Park. The build for V&A East will fall outside the timescale for my final project, but is indicative of the scale and scope of development on the site

As plans for this and other Eastbank project develop, there will need to be consultation with local residents, and involvement of other stakeholders (including discussion at the London Prosperity Board).

Bristol Paintworks, 27th October 2018.

Great to meet up with Jesse, Paul and fellow students (and a graduate) on the MA at the Martin Parr Foundation in Bristol on Saturday. Terrific collection of photobooks (from Chris Killip’s and other collections: Martin’s massive collection now with the Tate), Martin’s archive, work he has collected by other photographers, and an excellent exhibition space (current exhibition is Paul Trevor’s ‘In Your Face‘). There is a lot to explore here, but standouts for me on this initial visit are Graham Smith’s prints with handwritten narrative by him on the back of each one (Martin’s assistant, Louis, reading one of these below).

And the dummies of photobooks, giving insight into the process of putting a book together. Julian Germain’s dummy for ‘For Every Minute You Are Angry You Lose 60 Seconds of Happiness’ is a work of art in it’s own right (see this and final book below).

And a lovely small book with short story by Ahndraya Parlato & Greg Halpern, which presented an interesting way of combining images and fiction.

For my own work, I’m certainly going to explore Graham Smith’s work more closely, particularly in how he comes to understand and describe the lives of individuals and communities in a particular area (industrial Middlesborough, in this case). Notable that he moved away from photography when his images were misused in the press (to represent working class people negatively), which he felt had compromised his commitment to the community and the trust they had placed in him. And creating dummy books is a good activity for workshops with residents and community groups. Will explore the subscription scheme when it is launched.

Toward a Concrete Utopia: Architecture in Yugoslavia 1948-1980, Museum of Modern Art, New York, 11th October 2018

Another exhibition that combines a variety of modes (text, drawings, diagrams, maps, films, photography) to explore complex issues (ideology, the built environment, equity, quality of life, and the aspirations of non-aligned nations). My own work is not, of course, at anywhere near this scale, but will combine photography with maps, diagrams and text, and possibly sound and video. This exhibition has an number of organisational strands running through it, relating to time, sector (for instance, health, government and education) and location. These are drawn together under the theme of exploration of the aspiration to find a socialist and anti-colonial ‘third way’ in the development of a nation, that aligns with neither east (soviet communism) nor west (capitalism). The exhibition includes a number of large photographs (commissioned for the exhibition) by Valentin Jeck.

These images give a sense of the scale of the brutalist architecture and of aspirations, both as a nation and as the source of a particular form of modernism. As well as drawing inspiration from the form of the exhibition, I would like to experiment with photographing brutalist (and other modernist) architecture in London, including examples in areas in the throes of regeneration. Would have been good to have had more time in Moscow to have done some architectural photography  (images from around the International Investment Bank below from Week 5 challenge).

Tate Britain, 16th October 2018 [review]

It’s notable that all four of the nominees this year are working in the medium of film (analogue and digital, with and without other media). More notable, certainly of me, is that they all address what I would consider to be sociological and political issues. In terms of development of my project, the exhibition has helped me to think about the use of exhibition space and how to make different modes (images, text, sound, video) work together. Also, the extent to which work can have a sociological and political intent.

Forensic Architecture create a critical narrative from material collected during and after an event. The use of maps and different representations of time (placing material along a timeline and time-coding) is interesting, and can certainly have some potential when exploring the engagement of the community in unfolding regeneration projects. Likewise the use of citizen produced material and the linkage to a longer term investigation, in this case the presence of Bedouin people in a particular area over time (include maps, overlays, photographs and documentary evidence). Unlike my project, there is no direct artistic engagement, apart from the presentation of the material in a gallery context. The juxtaposition of a range of different modes of presentation and media is certainly important for my own project, though it won’t, as a whole, have the same kind of narrative structure (though there will be ‘micro-narratives’ within it.

Luke Willis Thompson‘s work offers other forms of inspiration. One is his mode of working. Spending much of his time moving from one place to another means that production of the work cannot be studio based. He tends to work on his laptop at the kitchen table (wherever he is), and ‘outsources’ and collaborates in production (in this case the transfer to film and the production of a device for projection of a continuous strip of film covering three distinct but related works). He also destroys all the material collected in the process of making the works when these are completed. In my current phase of life, this is attractive as I do not want to build up an archive of material (and have in the past, anyway, burnt notebooks and deleted material when I move from one phase of working life to another, so I have form in this respect). This entails placing a distinct endpoint in the production process.

Thompson’s work is collaborative, in this case working with the ‘sitters’ in two of the films and with the family of the artist in the third. Decisions are made together about how people represent themselves, though the mode and context are set by Thompson. The projection device, in particular its size and sound, emphasise the physicality of the medium and that it is a mode of representation/delivery; it creates a distinct context or environment for the work. Again, there is a distinct social and political intent to the works.

Charlotte Prodger and Naeem Mohaiemen both use long(er) form film/video (whereas Thompson’s works are short, without narrative structure and looped). Mohaiemen’s interest in the exploration of post-colonial aspirations relates closely to my other interests but not directly to this particular project. The form (films running over an hour) is not one that attracts me at the moment, though the concertina book with images and text is certainly interesting. Prodger’s work is shorter and weaves personal reflection with wider cultural and social issues, in particular relating to identity. Both the weaving of accounts, and the use of small video devices held close to the body in recording seemingly ‘on the fly’ are of interest to me in developing a sense of place and how this relates to the lived experience, identities and aspirations of residents.

One other element that warrants consideration is the place in all these works of still images, in the case of the film pieces, this includes shots that are held for a period of time, without reframing and with little or no movement within the frame. As a photographer, the place of ‘stillness’ in multi-modal works, and in the gallery setting, is important to address. In my earlier post on the film ‘Island’ and accompanying installation, this was related to creating a space for contemplation and holding of attention. Clearly this can be achieved within a film work, and alongside it (in the case of Mohaiemen, this is effectively achieved in a three screen presentation in which images can be ‘held’ on one of the screens). For further consideration in another post.

The best Turner shortlist for some time. I spent half a day there, and will return for more. Requires time, particularly if you want to watch all the films.

I struggled initially with the idea of producing a personal reflective journal that is both a public document and a component in the assessment for an award bearing course. This struggle was both intellectual (I had difficulty in getting my head around it) and emotional (I was not sure about how I felt about it). Whilst I haven’t totally resolved these struggles, I have, I think, reached a practical and personal resolution (how I am going to deal with it). And, of course, that resolution might only be momentary, and subject to revision as I progress through. Most importantly, though, I have, I think, reached a point where I can turn initial trepidation into a positive commitment. Learning in plain view, through this kind of public private writing, is a good thing.

In reaching a resolution I wanted to avoid the obvious performative solution. Treat successful completion of the degree as the primary function, and manicure the postings to project the image of a successful student. This is a tried and tested approach to any form of reflective journal (I am relatively sure that Erica McWilliam has written something about this in relation to the journals produced by beginning teachers, which I need to check). It is high risk, though, as, to be successful, it requires the writer to have a clear sense of the principles of assessment of the programme (what are the assessors looking for). So, to a degree, you have to be an adept to be able to produce a text that passes as that of a successful student. And there are complexities as the tacit criteria might require failure (and recovery) as part of the process. That is that, the writer may have to walk the tightrope of manufacturing a sufficient vulnerability on the path to ultimate success. There may also be a requirement for a degree of perceived authenticity, or revelation of a sufficient sense of self to authenticate the postings (bearing a watermark). A thought about blockchain technology has just come to mind, where who you are is encoded and preserved for future authentication (though that is an excessively static conception of self). I’m not going to pursue that here.

This is an excessively cynical approach to my mind, and there is the strong odour of bad faith. However, it does not have to be a total strategy, and in making any statement in this kind of environment there will always be a degree of self-checking (what are the consequences of publishing this?). So performativity as a total strategy stinks, but a degree of performativity (a manicured projection of self) is inevitable. The act of writing (and the reflection that that involves) means that we can never just ‘get it all out there’. Writing requires selection and expression and slows things down, though tweeting clearly allows people to just ‘blurt it out’ (to millions of others in some cases). This is not the place to wrestle with Derrida (there’s a post coming on that in due course).

To bring this post to a hasty conclusion, I think my approach is to treat this as a genuinely educational opportunity. To formulate and convey emerging thoughts and practices in a new (for me) domain of endeavour produces something to think about that moves practice forward in, potentially, dialogue and engagement with fellow travellers. Of course, to learn is the primary objective for me in doing this course, and the personal stakes are relatively low in that there are few professional consequences to success or failure (and relatively limited personal consequences, mostly related to self-esteem). To a degree, posting to the blog enables me to formalise my thinking, to put down markers and to remember (and there will be a post on memory ‘prosthetics’; aids to ageing cognitive functioning). It is a place to build something in public view. What’s the advantage over doing this in private? That, maybe, is to do with the pressure that the public exposure brings to take some care in expressing thoughts (but not to the extent necessary for a published paper or book). And it provides a framework for organisation of thoughts and experiences around a particular project (growing as a photographer, and understanding the field). And memory is important, too (‘but you said …’). How do I feel about the seeping out of what is written here to other domains of practice? That’s uncertain. This is for a pedagogic purpose, and it is about exploration not exposition. It’s a supplement to, not replacement of, identity and practice in other areas of life.

The Tyranny of Story, Parts 1-3, BBC Radio 4, August 2018.

I listened to this three part documentary presented by John Harris on BBC Radio 4 as preparation for a workshop run by co-producers Nina Garthwaite and Alan Hall. The workshop was cancelled, but the programmes raised a number of issues of relevance to the development of my project. In an earlier post, I raised questions about the extent to which photographers can be considered to be storytellers. Following up the programmes, I think I now have a clearer position on this, which can help inform my work. A distinction is drawn between whether (i) our lives fundamentally have a narrative structure, or whether, (ii) whilst episodic in form, our lives should, for our own well-being, be rendered as a narrative, or whether (iii) for mutual comprehensibility and engagement our lives can be presented in narrative form, or whether (iv) presenting lives as narratives is, at best, a distraction or, at worst, a damaging mis-representation, that creates unattainable expectations and encourages self-deception. Galen Strawson’s work, which sees life as episodic, and narrative as a misleading construction (see, as a brief introduction, Strawson, 2015), is interesting in respect of the last of these positions.

It is clear that there is a popular demand for stories/narratives, and that, in order to convey a message, narrative form is a powerful resource. Personally, I like telling and listening to stories. They provide a powerful means of communication, interaction and dialogue. Taken into the political and commercial domain, of course, this desire for and attraction to compelling stories can be used to distract and mislead. Reflecting on the decline in MMR vaccination, for instance, the case is made by neuroscientist Tali Sharot (a colleague from UCL) that stories (whatever their foundation) of catastrophic damage to a loved one hold greater emotional appeal than the narrative of the collective (and individual) benefit of eradicating forms of childhood illness founded on scientific research. The puzzle here is understanding the motivation for construction, propagation and subsequent narrative dissemination of these ‘alternative facts’. One argument might be that this is a popular reaction to professional discourse which dis-empowers ‘ordinary people’.

Whilst some photographers might feel that they are revealing narratives, others may see themselves as constructing narratives. I sit more on the construction side of this, but showing respect to, and in dialogue, and possibly collaboration, with the people being photographed. In this, I lean towards a desire to disrupt narrative form to allow different accounts to be explored and to enable new dialogues. Narrative can be powerful in drawing and holding attention, but is not an end in itself, and ultimately if the production of a greater understanding of others, more open dialogues, new forms of knowledge and new ways of knowing are the desired outcome, subversion of established, and expected, narratives is inevitable.

I’ve talked myself out of being a storyteller here, recognising that story can be a valuable resource, hook or medium, but understanding that this has to be undermined in order to create the space for new dialogues. Maybe I’m a teller of provisional and unstable stories (or a provisional and unstable storyteller). In order not to continuously tell each other stories we already know (and that reinforce our prejudices), and to make space for other ways of being and knowing, we need a wider range of resources, strategies and tactics. A way, maybe, of inquisitively making and unmaking, synthesising and deconstructing narratives to produce something new.

By chance, a few days later I stumbled into another Nina Garthwaite project, the Soundhouse at the Barbican. Here, she and collaborators are attempting to bring creative podcasts into public space, in a gallery-like listening environment. I’ll explore that elsewhere, as part of consideration of ways of presenting work, and the potential of the gallery as a space for public reflection and engagement.

References

Strawson, G. (2015), ‘I am not a story’. Accessed on 29.09.18 at https://aeon.co/essays/let-s-ditch-the-dangerous-idea-that-life-is-a-story

In order to try to clear the backlog, I’ve put three Paris exhibitions together, with just short reflections. None are strictly photographic, but each one has relevance to at least one aspect of the development of my own work.

Junya Ishigami, Freeing Architecture

07.08.18 Fondation Cartier pour l’art contemporain, Paris

An extensive survey, covering both floors of the gallery, of the work of a radical Japanese architect. In a discussion in the previous module, it was stated that how a building will look when photographed was influencing architects in their designs. The absence of photographs in this exhibition is notable.

Instead, models, drawings and text dominate, reinforcing Ishigami’s concern with the relationship between the natural and the human, and in particular, fluidity between the interior and the exterior (for instance, in the digging out of the basement and removal of interior and exterior walls in the renovation of a museum, the construction of a chapel in a valley from two high undulating walls open to the sky, the creation of interior gardens and the utilisation of open space under canopies and walkways in a number of buildings). Ishigami also prioritises engagement of the community, to both understand how space is used and involve people in consideration of radical spacial solutions which, in some cases, can be adapted to how they are used in practice.

TeamLab, Beyond Borders

08.08.18 La Villette, Paris

I was impressed by a small piece by TeamLab (presented on an LCD panel) at the Art Gallery of South Australia in Adelaide last year. This, massively scaled up immersive experience, draws on the same technology and philosophy, but has very different aspirations. It’s an experience, not a gallery piece. In the end, though, more entertainment than art. The cycle of of nature narrative (played over the period of one hour) was unconvincing, and seemed to be more a way of organising the experience than carrying any greater meaning. An engaging experience in a playground like environment, but ultimately spectacle rather than art. Reinforced the need to leave space for something new to be created by the viewer/participant.

Ryoji Ikeda, continuum

08.08.18 Pompidou Centre, Paris

Data driven, with integration of the audio and visual. Very much an immersive experience. Worked beautifully with the neighbouring ‘Coding the World‘ exhibition, which explored the link between art and technology through the influence of programming and coding (from systems art through to Ikeda and others, in all disciplines).