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| http://www.edwardclive.com
| | Edward Clive |
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| | Thesis abstract 22.3.12 |
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| '''Options for Objects.'''
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| My sisters recently re counted an anecdote from our childhood that I had no recollection of. We grew up in Somerset, England in a house that was annexed by an old cider press. Our parents had turned this into a museum, part of which contained a diorama of a man at work, shoveling coal into the furnace of a large copper distillery. I have no idea where this figure was purchased. He had hopelessly unrealistic features. Only his shoulder and hip joints could move, meaning he was forever trapped in an uncomfortable, unnatural looking pose, poorly simulating the act of shoveling. This figure was propped up against a cider barrel and apparently my sisters would sometimes make me hide behind him. When visitors walked past they would secretly cue me to jog the arms of the character, momentarily jolting him into a brief failing, performance of stunted animation.
| | The main body of my thesis will be made up of a series of anecdotes, (approximately eight) themselves not directly referencing art-making but all selected and told in a manner that points to the development of current themes and interests in my sculptural practice. The anecdotes are based on my own experiences and observations. They also act as independent short stories and combine historical contextualisation, detailed observation (of seemingly innocuous routines and activities), and recollections of scenarios and situations from my childhood to my present day life in Rotterdam. These stories do not follow a linear narrative arc or a chronological trajectory, instead they are grouped around the three terms I have been using as co-ordinates for my art making. 'The Unbuilt. The Hand. The Prop.' This is also the tile of my thesis. |
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| A year or so later, at the age of seven I was taken to see The Tutankhamun Exhibition, on permanent display in a small county museum in Dorchester. One of the discovering archaeologists was '''[from Dorchester itself? jf]''', which led to the creation of the permanent exhibition, set up in 1986. I visited a couple of years after it’s opening and was '''[I remember? jf]''' absolutely terrified. Its a dingy claustrophobic museum, chronicling the discovery of the kings tomb and its remarkable contents. In places it is also set out as a life size diorama, recreating the moment the golden coffins were removed from the sarcophagus. The museums website claims "So accurate are the recreated tomb and treasures that… filmmakers and television companies worldwide have extensively used them for their documentary productions". In reality this recreation is laughably crude; misshapen figures hold awkward poses whilst looped 'dialogue' is emitted from poorly hidden speakers. I found this horrific as a child; lifeless, lumpen plastic models forever trapped gawping at a coffin whilst a disembodied voice overly dramatically dictates their excitement. '''[I think this is nice, maybe you can extend on why 'dialogue' is interesting/ridiculous? jf]'''
| | 'The Unbuilt. The Hand. The Prop.' will effectively act as three chapters under which the stories will be collected. This is a departure from my initial plan of only having the anecdotes as the first chapter and then expand upon them through analysis and art historical referencing. I have abandoned this as a structure as after the second writing workshop was encouraged that people recognised a correlation to the collecting of stories to the structuring of my video work. After further consideration I decided to use the anecdotes as the main body of the text and then integrate annotations into my own stories. The format of opposite-page annotations would then be used to zoom in on a specific word, phrase, or description from the anecdotes and expand upon the relevance of their context or sculptural significance. |
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| On recently revisiting I was reminded of another major detail - all the 'artefacts' in the museum are copies of originals. I had forgotten this, or maybe never knew, but on revisiting was surprised that this had escaped my attention. Obviously the treasures of Egypt’s ancient past weren't going to be displayed in a small museum in Dorchester, but I had unconsciously assumed the majority of the items in the museum would be pictorial, videos and dioramas. The exhibition itself is a recreation of a famous 1972 touring Tutankhamun exhibition that traveled to the USA, USSR, Japan, France, Canada and West Germany. During the global transportation of the exhibition some of the relics where damaged. As a result the Egyptian government decided the artifacts would never again leave Egypt, causing facsimiles exhibitions like the one in Dorchester. The exhibition is a recreation of an exhibition. Along with the unconvincing diorama there are many videos of 3D computer generated scans of the kings’ skull, evidencing how he died. Somehow there’s an accumulative effect that’s makes the existence of this ancient Egyptian king almost unbelievable. '''[is there a way you can talk about this a bit more? your personal experience of why it feels that way? jf]
| | The collection of stories under the three headings point to interests in interface, image-making, sculptural history, and virtuality. These in turn, will be framed in the annotations through my current reading on nudge theory, choice architecture, scientific objectivity, and media ecology. It is important to the structure of the thesis that the annotations do not merely act as evidencing footnotes, rather they add and elaborate the interpretations of familiar activities, such as working in a factory or recounting impressions as a child visiting a museum. The intention of using this method is create a sculptural lens through which these anecdotes can be reconsidered as signifiers and causes to my own making. The list of interests noted above feed into the chapter subjects and hopefully should create a overarching framework that explains, and endorses what it means to be making sculpture in 2012. |
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| '''A story’s story
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| Whilst recently working in a metal workshop fabricating some furniture I brokered a friendship with the technicians and caretakers who met daily for coffee before the workshop opened at nine o'clock. They kindly spoke English on my behalf and appeared to enjoy having a different face amongst them. At one point someone referred to someone else, jokingly, as "His Lairdship", seeing myself looking confused I was informed the caretaker was actually a Laird of Scotland. The story followed explaining how this character and his wife had discovered a dying sheep whilst walking in the countryside of Scotland. The caretaker then carried the sheep a few miles to a big house and was warmly welcomed by an eccentric aristocrat. Pleased by the company the aristocrat insisted they stay for dinner, which the caretaker and his wife politely accepted. The following day the aristocrat gave the caretaker a piece of land, a rocky outcrop one by three miles large, enabling the caretaker, lawfully, to be tiled a Laird.
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| It transpired the caretaker had told this story many times. So many times he almost seemed burdened by it, despite always being able to make people laugh. One of the technicians mentioned how many times he’d heard the story and it started to feel like this plot of land, indistinguishable form the land around it was more of a curse than a gift. Every time the caretaker repeated the story in which he endlessly retreads the same ground, with the same dying sheep, towards the same big house to be rewarded with the same piece of land, that plot of land becomes more and more abstract. On hearing his story I could only imagine a video image of this place, the sky bleak, black uneven rocks wet with permanent rain, wind whistling a weird high pitched monotone.
| | Thesis outline – first draft 6.2.12 |
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| I asked him about that site. He said he visited it just the once, with the aristocrat, and had never been back.
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| | The first chapter consists of four short anecdotes from personal experiences. These do not reference directly art-making, but act as studies to the conditions which affect the work I make. The aim of these anecdotes is to create a lens, through which the methodology of my own work can be viewed and unpacked. The anecdotes oscillate between micro and macro descriptions; the personal and banal flipping to grand historical narrative and complex systems. The subjects in these short descriptions vary but they point to interests in interface, image-making, human-object relationships, and virtuality. These in turn, could lead more specifically, to further research into Nudge Theory, Choice Architecture, scientific objectivity and Libertarian Paternalism. |
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| '''The Electric House or Problems for Solutions.
| | The second chapter will start to decode the observations presented in the first chapter, their relationship to my own working methods as well as citing other examples of artworks/thinkers/practices negotiating similar territory. Potentially this could lead to the third chapter being a culmination of these observations and their interpretation into a framing of the work I intend to show for my graduation project. |
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| Despite it breaking I don’t like or dislike my toaster, but I do feel a kind of affinity with it. It’s a digital toaster and with blue LEDs mounted into the control panel. Its chrome and the top surface is embossed with the words ‘hot surfaces’. This surface is tilted giving the whole machine an awkward sculptural quality. We brought it over from England, which means every time I want to use it the flat first has to be ransacked for a UK to EU adaptor, of which we only have one. This in itself is the beginning of a complex process of redundant efficiency.
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| As the toaster is digital the bread-lowering-lever has been replaced by an electric button. When touched the toaster emits a loud beeping sound, lasting approximately six seconds. Tonally this is exactly the same as the warning signal of a reversing truck. The toaster fused a while ago, meaning that it now only toasts on one side. Co-incidentally this is the same effect achieved if you select the 'bagel' setting on the control panel. Of course I haven't started eating more bagels to compensate for this unfortunate breakage, I continue to eat toast but now have to rotate the toast once its finished its first toasting in order for the un-toasted side to be exposed to the heating elements. This effectively doubles the time required to toast bread and the number of times I have to listen to the warning beeps indicating the different stages of ascension and descension of toasted and un-toasted toast. During the first round of single sided toasting I might pop to the toilet to wash my face and urinate. Here I am faced with a similar chrome plated problem.
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| The toilet flush has two buttons, set together in a metallic oval. One of the buttons is larger than the other, meaning it supplies more water when pushed. However the same volume of water is dispensed irrespective of which button I press meaning that the denomination implied through the differing of button sizes is meaningless. I know this, yet always press the button I should, despite their lack of difference. To some extent this is probably trained behaviourism derived from having pressed so many other buttons whose dimensions do correctly correspond to the appropriate variation in water volume. I sometimes stare at the buttons thinking about which I should press despite knowing the outcome is inconsequential of my choice. But then I start to think I’m thinking too much about it. But having spent this long thinking about it the choice I now make is consequential, but I’m not sure for what reason. This circular line of thought is then interrupted by the acknowledging beeps of the toaster ejecting the first side of toasted toast.
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| As I flip the toast around and again wait for the process to be repeated I will often stare out the kitchen window. This looks directly onto the offices of the fourth largest, global professional service and accountancy firm. It’s a uniform grid like building and I can see into many of the single occupancy offices. What is striking in these rooms is the similarities of their differences. Somewhere in the management there must have been a decision made that the workers should have one personal item hung on one wall. These vary from modern prints, a world map, an imitation Matisse, a horse calendar and so on. These are all dimensionally similar, not too large to be distracting but not blank, which would become noticeable. As I wait for my now massively dehydrated toast to be released I think about the corporations motto: 'Quality In Everything We Do."
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| '''Real pictures.
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| In 2006, whilst saving up to move abroad, I worked in London for a few months for a company specialising in property photography. My slightly dubious title was ‘Image Coordinator’ which basically meant using Adobe Photoshop to digitally manipulate photographs the company took of residential and commercial properties for sale, to then be passed onto the estate agents’ prospective clients. The digital manipulation of images had one main rule – it was illegal to digitally manipulate structural and architectural components of the image, however cosmetically it was pretty much open territory. Clone tooling out socks under beds, inserting blue skies above rain soaked exteriors, saturating colours, lighting dingy corridors and so on.
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| There were many discussions with the ‘Senior Image Coordinator’ who would have final say on what could and could not be altered. We used the perspective tool a lot, to correct the fish eye distortion of the camera lens, but often had to be careful not to exaggerate this, as it is quite easy to amplify the volume of a space visually beyond the laws of psychics, reality and perspective. I recall a fairly long debate with my supervisor about a client I had worked with a few times and was friendly with, who had requested I ‘photoshop-in’ a missing kitchen cupboard door. The intention of this was presumably to hide the unsightly paraphernalia of cornflakes, breakfast teas and jams, that in a sales picture may [spelling change my to may . du] dissuade a potential buyer away from the grinding reality of a forty year mortgage '''[hmmmm, quite cynical and assuming though? jf]''' and the potential for only mild variations in breakfasts.
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| I took great relish in these manipulations and would often try to persuade my seniors (which they’d sometimes bend to) to allow me to make greater and greater alterations, purely because I found the prospect of entering a manipulated image into commercial circulation rather exciting. The greater the warping of spatial reality the better – it was purile and utterly inconsequential but I found my microcosmic contribution to the construction of a more and more virtually designed world exciting, rather than depressing.
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| When I left I asked the director for a collection of some of the images that get deleted everyday because the quality of the originals were too poor to bother manipulating. He complied, although he thought it peculiar. I’ve never known what to do with the images, but I’ve kept the digital copies for almost six years now. I occasionally find them after accidentally meandering into the wrong image folder. I look at a couple of them for a few seconds, giving them a short, flickering existence. '''[This fleeting affinity you have with objects and stories seems to add up here in a more clear way]'''
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| ['''Think its really nice, wonder what you will do next with it. I like the short texts, seems like intros to something else, I enjoy them as fictions/stories though as they are...jf]'''
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Edward Clive
Thesis abstract 22.3.12
The main body of my thesis will be made up of a series of anecdotes, (approximately eight) themselves not directly referencing art-making but all selected and told in a manner that points to the development of current themes and interests in my sculptural practice. The anecdotes are based on my own experiences and observations. They also act as independent short stories and combine historical contextualisation, detailed observation (of seemingly innocuous routines and activities), and recollections of scenarios and situations from my childhood to my present day life in Rotterdam. These stories do not follow a linear narrative arc or a chronological trajectory, instead they are grouped around the three terms I have been using as co-ordinates for my art making. 'The Unbuilt. The Hand. The Prop.' This is also the tile of my thesis.
'The Unbuilt. The Hand. The Prop.' will effectively act as three chapters under which the stories will be collected. This is a departure from my initial plan of only having the anecdotes as the first chapter and then expand upon them through analysis and art historical referencing. I have abandoned this as a structure as after the second writing workshop was encouraged that people recognised a correlation to the collecting of stories to the structuring of my video work. After further consideration I decided to use the anecdotes as the main body of the text and then integrate annotations into my own stories. The format of opposite-page annotations would then be used to zoom in on a specific word, phrase, or description from the anecdotes and expand upon the relevance of their context or sculptural significance.
The collection of stories under the three headings point to interests in interface, image-making, sculptural history, and virtuality. These in turn, will be framed in the annotations through my current reading on nudge theory, choice architecture, scientific objectivity, and media ecology. It is important to the structure of the thesis that the annotations do not merely act as evidencing footnotes, rather they add and elaborate the interpretations of familiar activities, such as working in a factory or recounting impressions as a child visiting a museum. The intention of using this method is create a sculptural lens through which these anecdotes can be reconsidered as signifiers and causes to my own making. The list of interests noted above feed into the chapter subjects and hopefully should create a overarching framework that explains, and endorses what it means to be making sculpture in 2012.
Thesis outline – first draft 6.2.12
The first chapter consists of four short anecdotes from personal experiences. These do not reference directly art-making, but act as studies to the conditions which affect the work I make. The aim of these anecdotes is to create a lens, through which the methodology of my own work can be viewed and unpacked. The anecdotes oscillate between micro and macro descriptions; the personal and banal flipping to grand historical narrative and complex systems. The subjects in these short descriptions vary but they point to interests in interface, image-making, human-object relationships, and virtuality. These in turn, could lead more specifically, to further research into Nudge Theory, Choice Architecture, scientific objectivity and Libertarian Paternalism.
The second chapter will start to decode the observations presented in the first chapter, their relationship to my own working methods as well as citing other examples of artworks/thinkers/practices negotiating similar territory. Potentially this could lead to the third chapter being a culmination of these observations and their interpretation into a framing of the work I intend to show for my graduation project.
