Saturday, 5 February 2022

#082: The Silence of the Image: An Exhibition

An exhibition of famous works of art spanning all eras and regions of the world.  None of the works are present at the exhibition.  Instead, each is replaced by a digital screen upon which is written details of the work and a description of it.  The descriptions vary in detail, from long descriptions to basic information, and even nothing at all.  Everything can also be heard read aloud by pressing a button, using headphones or accessing the exhibition through an app.

After: Alexander, H. (2020) The silence of the image.  Available at: https://www.typefi.com/silence-of-the-image/ (Accessed: 30th November 2021)

Saturday, 29 January 2022

#081: The Filter

Ink on paper.  Drawing of my face on the left side of the paper and someone else’s on the right.  The following text is written down the middle, in between the two faces:

Sometimes it feels as if there is a filter between me and other people that alters the way I have said things and distorts my face into the wrong shape for the words or the feelings.  It works the other way too, somehow.  I must work hard to remove it.

Several chains of coloured balls are moving from each side to the other (from the mouths to the ears), making their way through different paths created by the text.  In each chain the balls slowly fade from one colour to another (for example from red to yellow; blue to green; or black to white).


Friday, 10 December 2021

#080: The Approaching Silence

A sound and film installation taking up a full room in a gallery.  The sound of birdsong can be heard and a single 360 degree stationary shot of the corresponding forest or wood can be seen projected onto the walls of the gallery.  Each soundscape and film lasts 60 seconds but the birdsong slowly starts to fade after thirty seconds leaving the gallery silent for ten seconds while the film plays on before suddenly switching to another scene and soundscape.  

After Butler, S. and Morisson, C. (2021) We reconstructed birdsong soundscapes from over 200,000 places: and they’re getting quieter. Available at: https://theconversation.com/we-reconstructed-birdsong-soundscapes-from-over-200-000-places-and-theyre-getting-quieter-171325?utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Latest%20from%20The%20Conversation%20for%20November%2030%202021%20-%202131921100&utm_content=Latest%20from%20The%20Conversation%20for%20November%2030%202021%20-%202131921100+CID_742766558f461b85ae3bf319bf5d2b0a&utm_source=campaign_monitor_uk&utm_term=We%20reconstructed%20birdsong%20soundscapes%20from%20over%20200000%20places%20and%20theyre%20getting%20quieter (Accessed: 30 November 2021).

Monday, 29 November 2021

#079: The Power of Words (?)

A white canvas that features one line of simple black lettering: 

What do you sea?

Monday, 22 November 2021

#078: Relief

Watercolour of a figure walking along a beach, looking ahead.  The tide is out and the flat sand extends to the horizon.  Beyond the figure, the sunlight is reflecting off the wet sand, giving the impression that there are large patches of golden water beneath the clear blue sky.

A simple frame surrounds the picture.  Along its bottom edge is engraved: “that tranquil moment / when it all comes together. / the space that opens.”

The figure is me.


Monday, 15 November 2021

#077: The Sunday Afternoon Flood

Oil on canvas.  A view of the concourse at London Euston Station on a Sunday afternoon.  

A large crowd is spread out across the wide space.  

A few people are moving toward, or from, the ticket office at the left hand side, for refreshment at the right hand side, or heading towards WHSmiths, but no one at this point is heading to or from the platforms.

The vast majority of people, standing on their own or in small groups, with bags at their feet are looking up at the board of destinations, waiting for their platform number to appear.

Monday, 8 November 2021

#076: Frozen Puddles

Oil on canvas.  View at Maidstone East Station of people waiting for the London train (on Platform 1) in the late autumn, early morning, gloaming.  

They are variously looking down at the ground, their phone, or a book, magazine or paper.  The occasional person is either staring up the track searching for a light in the tunnel; or into the distance across the tracks, possibly watching people on the opposite platform.


Of course, when things go wrong, the scene is very different.  That's when people talk to each other.