Aspiring to Matsutake (2020 An element of the second year Developing Ideas in Art and the Environment module on the course I teach on began this semester with an extract from the book The Mushroom at the End of the World: On the Possibility of Life in Capitalist Ruins by Anna Lowenhaupt Tsing. As we (we, as in all of […]
Smartphone Social Media Performance series (2020)
Thank you to all those who contributed to this project, some were on the wall, some were part of the performance.
Harry Humphreys
Louise Wells
Tamsin Bartlett
Josephine McGuinness
Rebecca McGuinness
Pryle Behrman
Michael Spakowski
Bradley Tearle
Bethany H
Alex McGuinness
Sonya Bones
Cristian Frias
Gabriele Höhne
Stanislava Andreeva
Sophie Clark
Ana Bruque
I love my job, both of them, and actually I don’t feel like I am working a lot of the time particularly in my job as a practising artist. Because I enjoy my work, of course do, I’m an artist and like most artists I have often been asked to undertake work for free on the basis that I shouldn’t mind or expect payment because this is basically what I do for fun and besides, it will be good for my cv (great for early career artists or an opportunity for a huge amount of great quality exposure maybe, but it should be the artists choice and never expected) but no other profession has this problem that I am aware of.
In these times of constant connection, it’s easy to blur the line between work time and ‘play’ time whether on purpose or simply because it is possible to do so. I myself am guilty of sending work emails at ridiculous times of day and night, I do this only because I would rather act on an idea or response as it pops into my head rather than risk forgetting, I do not expect a colleague to answer or respond until a reasonable time during working hours! I feel incredibly guilty though if I then receive a response at an ungodly hour or on a non working day.
These are mainly fairly conscious decisions though, but how does our free time turn into a work situation for someone else though? Well, we use our phones all the time, we switch on location and advertise where we are with each smiling hash tagged selfie.
Advertise, that’s what we do, with each post we make. Of course this isn’t a new thing, this has simply replaced advertising on plastic bags when we used to shop anywhere! We would walk away with a lovely clean crisp plastic bag with our goodies in, advertising to everyone where we had made our purchase. We only do that now if we forget our re-useable bag!
The image below is a reproduction on a wooden device of a screenshot provided by Writtle University College, Art and the Environment student Bradley Tearle.
Nine Minutes Past Eight, (2019) Mixed media on plywood.
At nine minutes past eight just a few days ago I asked my friends a question ‘what does coffee mean to you?’ I received mainly one word answers immediately and I have presented them as miniature artworks, some inspired by the friend, others by the response given. As an artist I largely examine the boundaries between the digital and online presence and how it impacts our identity. Here I am focussing on how social media remains a useful tool for socialising and how Facebook, enables immediate social interaction bringing friends together within a digital environment, as coffee, in a physical space.
Yesterday at work, in our weekly student led drawing session the task was to apply paint to the surface without using any traditional methods of doing so. In other words, paintbrushes, palette knives etc ere not allowed. I rarely paint using a brush, my paintings tend to reflect how I’m feeling rather than have an intended visual outcome and applying with a brush doesn’t often fit in with this concept. It felt appropriate yesterday to use the discarded blister pack from my painkillers to push the paint around the surface with my fingers in the moulded bits. I am pleased with the outcome, the drawing sessions are such an important part of our course as it forces us to keep creating and reflecting on our practice.
Untitled (2019) Oil, Water Colour and Acrylic on Water Colour Paper 105 × 148 mm
Untitled (2019) Oil, Water Colour and Acrylic on Water Colour Paper 105 × 148 mm
Untitled (2019) Oil, Water Colour and Acrylic on Water Colour Paper 105 × 148 mm
Untitled (2019) Oil, Water Colour and Acrylic on Water Colour Paper 105 × 148 mm
Untitled (2019) Oil, Water Colour and Acrylic on Water Colour Paper 105 × 148 mm
This is my silver charm bracelet that used to fit me as a child. I used to like looking at it more than wearing it, each charm was bought by my dad when he traveled to a different country. As a baby, I went on the QE2, I can’t remember but the ship charm on the right hand side was bought from that trip and is a tiny replica in silver. I loved it. I’m not sure why I was bought the cat and the dog as I was (and still am ) highly allergic, so not sure what the relevance of those were. I believe I added the silver cross myself when I no longer wore it round my neck (I think the bracelet still fitted me as a teen)
My favourite charm was the rabbit as it had an orange stone for a belly and this fascinated me.
I have recently been making a set of small studies based on the variations in my mental state of mind juxtaposed with childhood fears and the fears associated with being a mother.
Untitled (2016) Ink on paper
My new thing.
Collographs.
Brighton (2016) Acrylic, Ink & Carbon print on paper.
For the last few years my work has predominantly been concerned with social media and life documenting. In contrast I have recently found my interest reaching toward the distorted memories that a life spent documenting our daily life events creates. I have begun to create work that plays with real fragments of memories, or at least real to me: and if changed or distorted it is only through the naturally ageing brain rather than the memory having been enhanced to begin with.
I am particularly excited by the stirring of a long forgotten moment, triggered by something seemingly unrelated. I recently walked into a room and a structure in the corner reminded me of an aviary. I then remembered that I often visited the aviary in Sefton Park, Liverpool during weekends with my grandparents.
Before 13 (2016), Acrylic, Ink, Pencil & Carbon print on paper
Samantha Humphreys 