Dan method draft
Intro
This year began with a black clad man. He wasn't exactly me.
I was interested in proxy bodies, and so was he. But he became one for me. He was the first figurative sculpture I ever made.
For some time before moving to Rotterdam I had been making sculptures that visually referenced juridical and penal furniture, that left such a gaping hole where a human body should be that they represented it by its absence. These were made as rickety modernist design, looking like prototypes for objects that never went into production. I was interested in the tyrannical control of the artist, especially the male artist. Interested in his propensity for the observation and representation of bodies. When these sculptures were activated in performance I was always uncomfortable about whether or not the present body being my physical body was conceptually necessary. Since they were usually uncomfortable to activate the pragmatic ethical necessity that it be my own body became an alibi.
(Documentation of Costume for a script for an unproduced puppetshow, May 2015)
When I started trying to put a work together upon arrival here I realised that the gaze that looks but doesn't touch, that attempts to radically disembody itself, does so in order to stigmatise the very fleshiness of the bodies it examines. I realised that one way to get out of the cycle of representation that I had inherited was to figure the gaze rather than satirise the representations it produced. In this sense I don't regard this black clad man that I have become as a representation — the gaze itself is unrepresentable because there is no first presentation to re-present. It is neither me, the man behind nor, nor his products. It needs to be figured in the first place. This is how I came to be a terrible sculpture of myself.
Materials
In the past my works were always kept in close quarters with one another. New works would be tested in the presence of old ones, props would appear and reappear across videos. I had been in the same studio for 3 years.
(Still from Not yet titled/not yet exhibited/not yet resolved, 2015)
But now I found myself in a new city and a new studio, with nothing but my body and the clothes it held in place. I would start with these. With the question: What do you wear? And I would answer it with more questions: Why do I wear it? What does it produce? What does it reference? Where do I draw the borders and boundaries around the practice of wearing clothes?
Feeling as big as a house
I began to work again on a text I had begun writing in Dublin about a man who becomes trapped in the chimney of his parents' house. The original stakes of the text had been around the comedy of the decontextualised academic: once he gets stuck the narrator begins to try to tell the history of the chimney but can only do so from a highly personal, sometimes delusional, perspective.
Once I began to rework the text I realised that this perspective was not interesting enough to me as an end in itself. It became a vehicle for approaching the subtext of the narrative, giving the character an outlet to voice his thoughts on inheritance.
Rather than treating the journey into the darkness of the chimney as a flight from embodiment I started to try and figure it as an extension of embodiment. The narrator felt cold and small in his parents' house without their presence as he could no longer figure himself as the child in the Oedipal drama. The details became specific: the house became an impressive Georgian townhouse and crawling into it became an attempt to wear its authority. Only when he has cramped and debased his own body does he gain the confidence to use the paternal voice, to speak with confidence and hold forth on matters regardless of whether he understands them.
(Untitled drawing, 2015)