Michael, What, How, Why?
‘Something there is that does not love a wall’. What? How? Why? Version
What?
A series of sculptural interventions into the temporary architecture of an art education institution. These pieces usually disappeared within 24 hours either by being repaired by a safety officer or (in some cases) by sagging back down into their original position due to gravity.
How?
By replacing structurally sound 8x4 sheets of MDF (which made up the architecture of the studios in my former college) with boards which I had prepared earlier. I had undermined the integrity of these latter by soaking them for days in water and then bending them into shapes when wet. When these boards dried, they retained the shapes that I imposed on them.
Why?
To respond to the materiality of my surroundings. To disrupt the quotidian experience of accessing the studio. To remind passers by of the presence of gravity and of the impermanent, changeable nature of the maze of ‘walls’ around them. To give the illusion either of some recent act of vandalism (the wrenching down of a studio wall) or of the existence of a will in the material; a will to disobey its prescribed function.
‘Something there is that does not love a wall’. 1st Person Past Version.
A series of sculptural interventions into the temporary architecture of an art education institution. These pieces usually disappeared within 24 hours either by being repaired by a safety officer or (in some cases) by sagging back down into their original position due to gravity. By replacing structurally sound 8x4 sheets of MDF (which made up the architecture of the studios in my former college) with boards which I had prepared earlier. I had undermined the integrity of these latter by soaking them for days in water and then bending them into shapes when wet. When these boards dried, they retained the shapes that I imposed on them. To respond to the materiality of my surroundings. To disrupt the quotidian experience of accessing the studio. To remind passers by of the presence of gravity and of the impermanent, changeable nature of the maze of ‘walls’ around them. To give the illusion either of some recent act of vandalism (the wrenching down of a studio wall) or of the existence of a will in the material; a will to disobey its prescribed function.
‘Something there is that does not love a wall’ 3rd Person Present Version.
is a series of sculptural interventions into the temporary architecture of an art institution. These pieces usually disappear within 24 hours either by being repaired by a safety officer or, in some cases, by sagging back down into their original position due to gravity. The artist produces these pieces by replacing structurally sound 8x4 sheets of MDF, which make up the architecture of many art colleges and studio complexes, with boards which he prepares in advance. He undermines the integrity of these latter by soaking them for days in water and then bending them into shapes while still wet. As this material dries, it retains the shapes that the Artist imposed on them. FitzGerald makes his work as a response to the materiality of his surroundings. The work is an attempt to disrupt the quotidian experience of accessing the studio and to remind passers by of the presence of gravity and of the impermanent, changeable nature of the maze of ‘walls’ around them. Perhaps, there is a suggestion either of some recent act of vandalism (the wrenching down of a studio wall) or of the existence of a will in the material; a will to disobey its prescribed function.
'STITDNLAW' Interview with a flustered technician version.
‘Something there is that does not love a wall’ muses Enda, technician of the Painting Department at the National College of Art & Design. I managed to catch him for a moment as he scurried around, tool-belt jangling, trying, quite literally, to keep the walls from falling down around him. ‘It is inexplicable really’ he says, leaning red faced on his broom handle, ‘sometimes the sheets will simply sag back into place over time, but in certain cases it has taken the strength of three men to secure them down. It’s like gravity has been reversed and intensified and learned to unscrew things! Anyone could understand why myself and the other techies are flummoxed. Some of my colleagues are getting creeped out. Brendan, from the Sculpture Department here is reading ‘The Fall of the House of Usher’ and he’s convinced that there is something strange going on altogether. Paranormal like. I’m sure that there’s some practical explanation. In fact, it hasn’t been all bad. In some cases, these flighty walls have revealed passageways that I had forgotten existed. I came across several stacks of cushioned chairs behind one the other day. They had been missing for the guts of the academic year and we frequently have had students sitting on the floor during seminars and talks. I suppose there must have been some aberration in my sums when I was demarcating the studio spaces, because I seem to have overlooked little nooks and crannies everywhere.’
‘The World Without Us’. How? What? Why? Version
What?
A site-specific sculptural work made as a response to a brief (agreed upon by the exhibiting artists in the show). -- Brief - To make a work that engages with the underground. -- The work took the form of a dry stone wall roughly splitting the exhibition space in half. Before the opening, I replaced key structural stones with ice blocks frozen out of mud and pigment so that throughout the opening night, the wall slowly collapsed.
How?
All around me, artists were digging deep into and under the gallery floor. Some having to build timber mineshaft structures in order to dig deeper. Naturally they were also raising large mounds of earth and rubble to the surface around them. I went through these mounds looking for suitable rocks in order to build my wall.
Why?
To create a work which both conceptually / materially fit the concept / setting of the exhibition. To create a work which has a lifespan (an object which performs and then expires leaving some sort of readable trace). In order to see in fast forward the deterioration of an architectural structure (the dry stone wall) which is percieved as durable and symbolic of lasting values and traditions.
‘The World Without Us’. 1st Person Past Version.
A site-specific sculptural work made as a response to a brief (agreed upon by the exhibiting artists in the show). -- Brief - To make a work that engages with the underground. -- The work took the form of a dry stone wall roughly splitting the exhibition space in half. Before the opening, I replaced key structural stones with ice blocks frozen out of mud and pigment so that throughout the opening night, the wall slowly collapsed. All around me, artists were digging deep into and under the gallery floor. Some having to build timber mineshaft structures in order to dig deeper. Naturally they were also raising large mounds of earth and rubble to the surface around them. I went through these mounds looking for suitable rocks in order to build my wall. To create a work which both conceptually / materially fit the concept / setting of the exhibition. To create a work which has a lifespan (an object which performs and then expires leaving some sort of readable trace). In order to see in fast forward the deterioration of an architectural structure (the dry stone wall) which is percieved as durable and symbolic of lasting values and traditions.
‘The World Without Us’ 3rd Person Present Version.
is a site-specific sculptural work produced as a response to a brief (agreed upon by the exhibiting artists in the show). -- Brief - To make a work that engages with the underground. -- The work took the form of a dry stone wall roughly splitting the exhibition space in half. Before the opening, the Artist replaced key structural stones with ice blocks frozen out of mud and pigment so that throughout the opening night, the wall slowly collapsed. Throughout the install, artists were digging deep into and under the gallery floor. Some having to build timber mineshaft structures in order to dig deeper. Naturally they were also raising large mounds of earth and rubble to the surface around them. FitzGerald went through these mounds looking for suitable rocks in order to build his wall. FitzGerald attempts to make work which both conceptually and materially fits the concept and site of the exhibition. He has always been interested in work which has a lifespan. His works often take the form of performative objects which eventually expire and leave behind some sort of readable trace. The piece speeds up the deterioration of a dry stone wall, a primitive architectural structure which is perceived as durable and symbolic of lasting values and traditions.
‘In Out In Out’ How? What? Why? Version.
What?
A collaborative exhibition which involved the redesigning of a simple prefab into a complex one way system of tunnels, connecting miniature gallery spaces.
How?
By deciding where the audience should be allowed to stand up and to what degree they should be able to ascertain the layout of the temporary maze that they were traversing. By allowing access only to those willing to crawl.
Why?
Recognising the audience as a completing force in the work and seeking to investigate the ways in which the audience can be manipulated, controlled, shepherded. An investigation into involved curatorial strategies which attempt to make the viewing of art more rigid in order to enfranchise the artist / curator regarding the way in which their work is to be viewed. In order to redefine the experience of moving through a gallery space. To contravene the social norms of an exhibition opening by having artists, critics, lecturers, punters crawling face to buttock in a one way system which is constantly moving, preventing lingering and chit chat.
‘In Out In Out’. First Person Past Version.
A collaborative exhibition which involved the redesigning of a simple prefab into a complex one way system of tunnels, connecting miniature gallery spaces. We took a firm curatorial stand by deciding where the audience should be allowed to stand up and to what degree they should be able to ascertain the layout of the temporary maze that they were traversing. Access to the show was allowed only to those willing to crawl. In all my work, I recognise the audience as a completing force in the work and seek to investigate the ways in which it can be manipulated, controlled, shepherded. This show took became an investigation into involved curatorial strategies which attempt to make the viewing of art more rigid in order to enfranchise the artist / curator regarding the way in which their work is to be viewed. In order to redefine the experience of moving through a gallery space. To contravene the social norms of an exhibition opening by having artists, critics, lecturers, punters crawling face to buttock in a one way system which is constantly moving, preventing lingering and chit chat.
‘In Out In Out’. Third Person Present Version.
A collaborative exhibition which involves the redesigning of a simple prefab into a complex one way system of tunnels, connecting miniature gallery spaces. The artists take a firm curatorial stand by deciding where the audience should be allowed to stand up and to what degree they should be able to ascertain the layout of the temporary maze that they traverse. Access to the show is allowed only to those willing to crawl. In all of his work, FitzGerald recognises his audience as a completing force in the work and seeks to investigate the ways in which it can be manipulated, controlled, even shepherded. This show is an investigation into involved curatorial strategies which attempt to make the viewing of art more rigid and, in some essential way, to enfranchise the artist or curator regarding the way in which their work is to be viewed. This structure redefines the experience of moving through a gallery space. A happy side effect of their approach was a marked contravention of the social norms of an exhibition opening by having artists, critics, lecturers and punters crawling face to buttock in a one way system which is constantly moving, preventing lingering and chit chat.