interview - The Sainsbury Centre for Visual Arts

YOUNG ASSOCIATES AUDIO PROJECT
ARTISTS’ INTERVIEWS
BARNABY ANDREWS
& CHRIS ASTWOOD /
DARA ARAD & JACK
RICE / KIRSTIN BICKER
/ JIM CUTLER & NICOLE
HUDSON / JAMES HASSALL
& HENRY JACKSON
NEWCOMB / MICHAEL
JAMES LEWIS & MATTHEW
PARKER / ISABELLA
MARTIN / JAMES MIDGLEY
/ MIKE PAGE / CHARLOTTE
REEVE / CICELY RYDERBELSON / LUKE SANGER /
AURORA WADIWATI
BARNABY ANDREWS & CHRIS ASTWOOD
Talk us through your process of 3D modelling?
For The Accordion Player around 30 hi-res photos of the sculpture were taken from multiple angles and fed
into software that uses Structure from Motion techniques in which the computer examines common features
in each image and uses these overlapping features to extract a textured 3d model. This model was then
stripped of its real world texture which was replaced with a single colour before being placed within a 3d
space within the visual programming environment Pure Data (http://puredata.info/). The resulting model is
by no means perfect however the ability to rotate, zoom, light and view the inside of what is in reality a solid
piece is truly something to behold (I was very tempted to 3d print some keyring size versions!). We wanted
to mimick the experience of viewing the sculpture and in particular the orbiting of the piece that its placement
within the gallery space so easily affords. This orbiting was easily mimicked by rotating the object on its Z axis
within 3d space however the process of re-interpreting the experience of changes in the sculptures surface
topography as you orbit the piece was slightly more complicated. The solution deployed was to create depth
maps, essentially grey-scale images in which more distant areas appear darker and closer areas lighter, of
the object as it rotates. By extracting the greyscale values of the central pixels of each of these depth maps
and converting them into midi note messages changes in the height of the sculpture as you orbit it are converted into changes in the pitch of the notes played.
Why did you choose these specific objects?
As mentioned above the accordion player was appealing not only because of the fine and varying topography
of its many faces but the simple fact that it affords orbiting and was thus easily photographed. The Wooden
head was something that we were immediately drawn to (I don’t know why!) however while neither of these
objects were on our “personal favourites” list the pragmatic nature of this decision seemed to facilitate the
engagement of less familiar creative processes.
How did you collaborate?
While the first piece was more of a technical exercise which was discussed and planned together its implementation gave Barnaby an opportunity to geek out and get more familiar with his beloved Pure Data.
The Wooden head piece was inspired by the same techniques however instead of being played live as an
instrument this piece was based on pre-conceived concepts that were discussed and implemented together.
We have worked together many times on music projects for our own enjoyment and this ability to not take
ourselves too seriously seems to facilitate enjoyable collaborations.
Did you research the objects or is it a personal response?
Well its funny we thought about researching the objects as we heard others discussing such things, however
neither us have a background in art and so we had little to go on in this respect. However we were able to
draw more than enough inspiration from the technical processes we developed and our own experiences
and discussions of the two pieces. This approach felt particularly pertinent to the wooden head, an object of
such age and distant lineage that surely your guess as to its original purpose and uses is as good as mine.
DARA ARAD AND JACK RICE
Did you intend to create a type of narrative to navigate the collection by?
The intent was for more of an emotional, intellectual or intuitive (rather than physically directive) trajectory.
How was it working as a collaboration?
It was an unusual collaboration as we worked remotely from each other. Dara had no idea what I was doing
with her words, but we’re old friends so we put our trust in each other.
How did you find the collection as a stimulus for you work?
The space itself informed the work the most. The sense of stillness, wandering, engaging, impressions,
reflection.
KIRSTIN BICKER
How do you think it will affect how people experience the collection?
I feel that the works will allow the audience to become part of an immersive experience. The encompassing
sounds of the Hoover and scattered voices bring to the foreground the otherwise unnoticed aspects of the
maintenance involved in the collection. It also brings with it an air of nostalgia. The experience of being in
a space while someone else cleans and hearing a private activity in a public environment plays with the
audiences’ perception of what a gallery should sound like.
Were the cleaners interested in your project?
The cleaners were really interested in the works. All of them were extremely helpful and tried to help with
finding the noisiest machines. I almost felt as if I were getting in the way as they went out of their way to make
extra noise for the recordings.
How was it working with sound, as I understand it is not part of your usual practice?
Absolutely. My usual practice is very visual so trying to figure out waves and pitches of the sound was an
extremely difficult task for me. I took a risk on the project and it has really paid off by adding an additional
element to my practice.
Was the intension for the recording to be like overhearing the cleaners’ conversations, rather than a
structured interview?
My intentions for the works were to highlight a private task and experience it in a public setting. The collection
once belonged in a home so it was really important to me for the ‘domestic’ to be acknowledged.
With the works I have tried to challenge the otherwise overlooked aspects of social production, and question
the hierarchies of different forms of work, especially housework and everyday labour.
JIM CUTLER & NICOLE HUDSON
How did you formulate your questions, and did specific objects inform your questions?
The project was made with the objects in the Sainsbury centre collection in mind but recorded in an entirely
different location with members of the general public, without the context of the Sainsbury centre. Although
they were all general, we tailored the questions so that the answers would fit to the Sainsbury centre e.g)
asked about what they thought of the place they were in, the decoration, the people. We also asked about
their thoughts on the afterlife, to link subtly to the objects in the collection that were used for burials and
sacrifices.
How was it working with the general public?
Working with the general public was interesting; the majority of people that we spoke to were incredibly
friendly and happy to help, and a lot of funny conversations developed from our questions.
How did you decide what responses to include?
I think the element of humour was always an important factor; the piece is intended to be light hearted and a
playful take on the collection, and this was kept in mind when choosing which responses to include.
JAMES HASSALL & HENRY JACKSON NEWCOMB
How did you collaborate?
We know each other well, but have never actually collaborated on an artwork previously. It came quite naturally considering our own distinct practices and backgrounds; Henry has studied Sonic Arts and works a lot
with music/audio and, while James is primarily a painter, he also writes – so, a monologue with an aesthetic
derived from processing and recording techniques seemed logical. Much of the initial collaboration involved
sharing ideas about Mask/Helmet II and identifying the themes we wanted to draw on, as well as what the
piece should sound like. James wrote the text following our conversations and Henry produced the audio; we
had decided to incorporate as much live processing as possible to mirror Houesago’s rapid and roughshod
working method so it almost came together as a live piece, with James reciting the monologue while Henry
added texture, samples and effects. There was plenty of post hoc editing to shape the piece as we had envisioned it, but we tried to retain the core qualities of those initial recordings.
Why did you choose Helmet/Mask II as inspiration?
We were very familiar with Houseago’s work (particularly after seeing his solo exhibition at the SCVA a few
years back) and both really liked the piece, but it also stood out immediately as something that would fit with
the way we both make art, and something that was very rich with content.
What we didn’t want to do was simply use the sculpture as a crutch for own independent artwork, so it was
important that our styles and expertise could be adapted to let the inherent properties of the mask dictate the
outcome. We felt we could do this with Houseago’s work, thanks to both its visual properties and the themes
it addresses.
His art is crowded, incorporating a postmodern barrage of influences and merging of styles, but all bound by a
modernist visual sensibility. He still holds on to the unity of the art object, the physicality of it, and the respect
for the inherent properties of a material that this entails.
That sort of synthesis is evident in a lot of contemporary figuration, but Houseago allows a dauntingly huge
amount of stuff to retain a trace on his figures. By avoiding the strictures of finish, Houseago narrows the gap
between the artwork’s external surface and its complex history as a cultural and physical artefact. It bears the
scars of its manufacture and conveys the thought processes of its creator.
As such, the disarmingly simple sculpture touches on a lot of themes – both philosophical and art-historical
– that excited us.
How have the artwork’s own properties and references influenced your piece?
We tried to translate as much as we could into the sound work to retain that density – not in terms of an intellectual complexity, but in terms of overflowing ideas, personality and cultural/historical baggage.
We thought about his rapid working method; his un-preened aesthetic; his references to African Fang masks,
modernist surrealism and science fiction; and looked at how this can be brought together in a coherent way
(as we believe Houseago does). Everything seemed to hinge on the idea of the monument as both collective
and personal memory, incorporating everything from death masks and Greek friezes to notions of identity and
history. Many of Houseago’s works resemble monuments – not monuments to an explicit history or tangible
individual, but to the idea of history itself. They are literally monuments to their own manufacture, but also
monuments to their ineffable prehistory. Monuments or masks are all symbols of abstracted human identity;
contortions and caricatures that seek to understand and mitigate the horror of transience, and the vitality of
life, through art.
As a consequence, the monologue has a repetitive structure, built around three distinct episodes of reminiscence – each preceded by a philosophical digression – that relate to the aforementioned themes (classical
sculpture, African Fang masks etc.).
In this fragmented and looping dialectic, the protagonist attempts to make sense of his present situation
through his past, and through his stuttering recollection of philosophical ideas and poetry. In apparent isolation and sensory deprivation, memory and ideas are all he has. Finding himself in this blackness, the ‘mask’
wonders whether he is indeed dead, or in some other state (or even if he was ever alive). There’s a slow
realisation of the elusiveness of his identity, and the blurry distinction between ‘being’ and ‘seeming’ – he is,
after all, ‘a visage’.
The aural properties of the piece were derived from the sculpture itself and support these themes – the sculpture is made from large clumps of clay, deformed and melancholy, with an obscured mouth and an ambiguously organic/mechanical composition. So, we wanted our speaker to have a very human voice with saliva
and panting and coughing, but warped and deformed through his restricted mouth movements and electronic
processing.
To extend the solipsism of the monologue we derived all the audio (except for one sonorous tone at the end)
from re-recorded speech in the text, and recorded the actual vocals in a tiny restricted space. We hope the
aesthetic of the audio captures the physical qualities of the sculpture, its personality as an anthropomorphic
head and something deeper with respect to sculpture.
If Helmet/Mask II were an audio work rather than a sculpture this is, we believe, what it would sound like.
MICHAEL JAMES LEWIS & MATTHEW PARKER
How did the collaboration work?
The collaboration unfolded as a loose series of conversations, starting with the broad themes and increasing
in specificity as the piece developed.
Where did you gather the sounds?
Michael responded to his experience of the space by recording a spoken word piece to handheld recorder.
He passed this to Matt, asking him to expand upon the gestures and narrative form within the file. Most of the
sounds were pulled directly out of the original recording. Additive sounds were carefully selected and introduced from Matt’s library of recordings of space and time that have been built over the course of a decade
of sound recording.
How was this piece informed by your background in architecture?
We are both interested in how space influences experience. The sounds, textures, and lighting that animate
space are immediate to our senses, but there is a vast support system that we tend not to focus on. The drone
of a ventilation unit or electronic buzz of lighting units - these are often unconsidered elements of the ‘architectural’ experience, but of course they have been considered very carefully by a mechanical or services
engineer. All these things impact us, either consciously or unconsciously, as we navigate any space. We were
interested in drawing attention to this.
Was it important to acknowledge the unnamed contributors to the collection- the unknown artists
who made the objects, the un-credited architects who helped design and build the building?
We haven’t acknowledged anyone in particular, which was an intentional gesture. The project is more interested in using broad generalisations to make an argument, rather than focusing on specific objects or authors. As a culture, we tend to emphasise the ego. People either get too much credit or too much blame for
everything from politics to industrial design. The project argues that we can learn more about ourselves by
looking at broader themes and connections.
ISABELLA MARTIN
How did you make your selection of objects? Did these objects have any significance to you before
the project?
It started with just one, Goblet with Lugs, an almost five thousand year old marble object from the Cyclades.
The word Cyclades derives from the Greek kyklos for circle, and this planted the idea of following a circular
journey around the Collection, using this Goblet as a guide. This object has always held a fascination for
me, which stems from the feature of four ridges along one side. They speak of a beautiful practicality - if you
interpret these lugs as a way to hold your hand flush against the bowl of the goblet while pouring from it. This
is combined with a sense of play; the ridges echo the machinations of the hand and introduce an implied
malleability against the solidity of the marble.
My intention was then to follow the echos cast by the Goblet’s attributes, taking direction from metaphor, in
order to understand the Goblet in relation to other objects. These five other objects offered a way to follow
the references that could be provoked upon holding the Goblet. The circular journey sought to understand
one object through the lens of others, while simultaneously seeing these other objects through the lens of
the Goblet. These other objects weren’t particular in the sense that they were the only reflections of each
attribute, but rather functioned as signifiers of the currents and echos running through and across the whole
Collection.
Why did you decide to choose a number of objects and not just one? Was that because you wanted
to encourage people to move around the space?
The Sainsbury Centre Collection is vast, but in a subtle way; objects take it in turns to call your attention,
whether by the mood of your particular walk through the space, or their curation. I can often encounter an
object and feel it’s a totally new experience because of these particulars, this experience is challenging
enough to stop a quick comprehension of what I’m seeing. Because of this, I wanted the audio to follow a trail,
with objects acting as waypoints and moments to stand still. The number of objects means there are multiple
places to take your bearings during the guide and throughout the space.
One of the limitations of going to a gallery is not being able to touch the objects - are you trying to
evoke an alternative sensory experience through sound?
I’m not necessarily trying to evoke the sensation of touch, as much as the thoughts and responses it provokes.
The end result is still words, it’s still within what’s permissible in the gallery space. I wanted to experiment
with how far those words could go to bridge the gap between the glass and the viewer. It started as a ‘what
if’; considering if I could touch this object, how would that change my feelings towards it? Imagining this, I
couldn’t escape the idea that I would resort to comparison and metaphor, in an attempt to understand this
object through placing it within my frame of reference. I wanted to enact that, to offer up the words of the
familiar against the other, in order to evoke the feeling of holding and referencing, through imagining touch as
opposed to kindling the physical sensation through sound. This gradual accumulation of words as proposition
in the face of these objects is also futile, it has a distancing effect while simultaneously claiming to touch and
hold these works. Asking the audience to hold the objects during the tour also acknowledges how far away
they are.
Is your interest in touch informed by your training in sculpture?
Whilst studying sculpture I was fascinated with the idea of the discipline as something that navigates and
occupies space. This goes beyond the physical object itself to explore physicality in and of itself. Increasingly
this means I’m most interested in the physicality of ourselves, our location, and the fragility of our geographical
certainty. Touch is still the moment of contact, the gesture of reconciliation to some believable physical aspect.
I’m intrigued to attempt to circumnavigate this by testing the different ways we can ‘touch’ something - how
do we know what’s there? Firsthand is an attempt to recreate touch, to follow it through and use language as
a prop in this search. Sculpture is about navigation and the space between things, and so to negotiate the
gallery space and touch the objects, even just in words, feels like a sculptural act.
JAMES MIDGLEY
What drew you to the Baby Carrier- had you come across anything like it before?
To begin with I was drawn to the Baby Carrier because of the seeming dissonance between its appearance
and its use: i.e., the fearsome faces decorating an object whose purpose is to nurture. It struck me then as
something approaching a useful symbol for the inward/outward transitions – the wary and staring sensitivity –
that accompany the act of encountering, and social encounters in particular. It also called to my mind similar
instances of apotropaic magic and objects which often make use of exaggerated eye markings to ward off
the “evil eye”.
Did you do any research on the object or was the work based on your immediate, personal responses?
I did some research, and some of my first drafts attempted to place the object better in the tradition and
culture to which it belongs. Those failed for various reasons. In the end I decided to concentrate more on the
fact that for me the object’s provenance has a certain unassailability – to make the otherness the focal point
in itself. In that sense I suppose it is a personal response, but it is also about personal response.
How do the themes in this piece relate to your other work?
I had tried previously to write about apotropaic magic but with limited success, taking as my subject there
the disjunction between the Roman concept of the fascinus, a talisman used to avert the evil eye, and our
contemporary notion of fascination. The themes in the poem are ones I often explore, and my finding them
in the Baby Carrier perhaps partly explains why I chose to write about it. The repercussions of looking, of
encountering, of trying to reconcile one’s inner and outer worlds, are recurring concerns in my writing.
MIKE PAGE
Can you talk us through project?
I made a vessel the same volume as the Red Sueki Globular Jar. I used audio feedback to generate the
resonant frequency of the space inside the vessel (a bit like blowing across the top of a bottle). I wanted
to keep any aesthetic conceits to a minimum and to be in line with the idea of viewing the Jar as an object
here in the present, rather than through its history. I wanted it to come across as a field recording rather
than a ‘recording session’ so it is roughly recorded with audio artefact’s allowed in (I left the window open for
wind and road noise, didn’t tiptoe or discourage the microphone from banging and scraping, and no fade in).
These help reveal it is a live recording in a real place and time, a physical process rather than a simulation.
It is lightly tempered with filtering and practice getting the feedback level on the cusp of breaking down. It
sounds a bit more aggressive than I had imagined but I couldn’t face making it dishonest mucking around
with post-production.
Did you feel at all restricted by not being able to work directly with the objects? You made your own
vessel to work from for the recording, as you were unable to work directly with the pots, what impact
did this have?
The fact that I had to make a vessel was not a hindrance. My practice centres around inventing instruments
so this logistical hurdle felt like a natural part of the process. When talking about the audio component of my
work I sometimes describe it as composing by making. It was fun covering a balloon in plaster.
CHARLOTTE REEVE
How has using sound influenced the outcome of your work?
Using sound has made me consider why being able to interact with an object is so important to myself and
many people’s understanding of it. It also allowed me to think about the function of museums in general and
how far we can really connect with objects if they are sealed away from us.
Is there a significance to the ordering if the sound- is there a narrative?
This audio walk explores the sounds created by interacting with typical materials from key geographical locations in the Sainsbury center permanent collection. The piece is a continuous stream and it is not dictated to
the listener which order these locations are presented (although the actual order I recorded the locations in
was Meso- America, Asia, North America, Oceania, Africa). It is up to the listener to think about the physicality
of the objects: what they are made from and what they would be like to touch in order for them to follow the
route accurately.
How did you imagine/Intend this to be received by the audience?
Visitors to the collection will hopefully start to think of the objects as a physical pieces which once had a
practical application through listening to what these materials sound like when being interacted with. In a
museum setting, objects displayed are traditionally sealed off from the audience, as a result the audience’s
understanding of the object displayed can be lost as they have no sense of the physicality of it. It is possible
to grasp the context of the object and its cultural importance from a description or a recognizable aesthetic
signature, however, to feel a connection to the piece as a once functional, touchable object is something
which can be missing.
Are these sounds evocative of making an object?
Whilst creating the piece I tried to focus on the physical attributes of the objects and how these can be interacted with through touch. Most sections of my piece focused on the materials used to create objects in the
collection but it was not a far stretch to use them in a way which mimicked the action of making some of the
objects.
How did you select materials to work with?
To research for this audio walk I began by noting down which materials were ‘typical’ of the main geographical
regions featured in the Sainsbury Centre permanent collection. For instance, there was lots of examples of
Terracotta being used in the Meso-American objects. I also looked into techniques which were used to make
some of the pieces and what physical characteristics the pieces had. Since interacting with the actual objects
was not an option I sourced my own objects and materials which fitted with the research I had conducted and
used this to create my audio walk.
CICELY RYDER-BELSON
Are you a collector?
I’ve never sustained a collection long enough to deem myself a collector, but I feel at some point everyone
adopts the consciousness of wanting to accumulate. I think this was part of my interest in the subject; I wanted to tap into the mind-set of those who have this discipline in collating, whether it is merely the initial phase
without purpose or a dedication that has spanned years.
What drew you to think about collecting?
Part of the success of the Sainsbury Centre’s permanent collection is that the lack of additional information
ensures your experience is not premeditated, but purely personal. However I felt it is easy to lose touch of the
fact that it was initially two people’s collection, personal to them. I wanted to respond to the inherent nature
of the gallery in that this was an accumulation of objects that was provided through a passion for the art of
collecting; a component which is easy to overlook in the gallery environment.
What impact do you think it has hearing from anonymous people about unknown collections?
I think the anonymity of the piece is important as you are forced to focus on the process of collecting rather
than the objects or the collector. This enables it to adapt to the SCVA’s environment by creating an almost
imagined dialogue behind these objects which we are given so little information about. Whilst using a rhetoric
that is rooted in the familiarity of habitual collecting, I feel it lets the audience gain a more personal perspective of the gallery which is home to such a high calibre of art.
LUKE SANGER
Talk us through your process? Where did you gather the sounds?
I recorded the source material using a portable field recorder and a variety microphones; contact mic, hydrophone, shotgun mic and stereo condensers.
Samples were captured all around the building and outside. I took all the raw audio to my studio and applied
different digital signal processing techniques, to create a piece that changes the sonic footprint of each sound
through time.
What inspired this work?
The building itself was the main inspiration for the piece. Initially I planned to focus on the ambience in the
main gallery space, however after exploring the extensive network of back corridors and hidden rooms, a
whole new world of sounds presented themselves.
The piece is an electroacoustic composition, inspired by composers like Denis Smalley and Trevor Wishart.
Tell us about the relationship between the inside and the outside of the building?
As the outside view plays a major part of your experience within the building, I took recordings of the lake and
various other links like doors and vents etc. these were all incorporated into the work.
AURORA WIDAWATI
Why did you choose that painting?
I remember it [Walking Man No. 3] being one of the first paintings I saw, and one of the few I resonated with.
The strokes to me were rather large, making the silhouette really abstract and therefore open to interpretation, and I like that. The shades of green, brown and grey and the way they seem to melt together to create
this second ambience that exists between me and the painting, so I felt like there was no other piece I could
do but this.
What is the relationship between the narrator and the person in the painting?
Sometimes I think the narrator is their conscience or maybe it’s the person’s heart slash soul speaking out
about their innermost desires. We don’t see the silhouette’s face, leaving their identity open to interpretation
and leaving their relationship so much more open. From a certain perspective, [the figure] looks more like a
man judging by the short, stocky build, but there’s no reason why they would be less acceptable as a woman.
The words of the narrator could be anyone’s thoughts: a suburban housewife, a struggling university student,
a corporate heavyweight on a career high. Some may have an ongoing struggle with their thoughts; from a
darker point of view it could be the devils in someone’s mind.
Are you the narrator, or did you create a character?
I do not think that the narrator is the person in the painting, but I do not think of them as separate entities
either. Like I said before, the narrator could be someone’s innermost thoughts, and some people create a
character or persona in their heads that’s an exploded version of one of their less prominent traits. An easier
way to think about it is like when someone drinks too much and they’re more or less talkative than usual,
basically not their so-called usual selves.
Do you use walking in your everyday creative practice?
I suppose so. There is a lake close to where I live, and during late afternoon when the weather is not too chilly
I often take a walk with headphones in my ear. Ideas tend to start flowing when I am listening to acoustic
music and I have got nothing in my head except for the lyrics and the landscape.
If that isn’t possible, I find that just walking around my accommodation building helps. Pacing from my room
to the kitchen, pacing in the kitchen… sometimes when my body starts to work, my muse does as well.
How did you find it translating from prose to sound?
It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be partly because of my background. When I was younger I was a lot
more involved in drama and musical theatre, so I treated my prose as an extended soliloquy. I annotated my
prose like I would a script, and I rehearsed for it like I would any other theatre production.
Actually recording the material was something I found daunting, because I have never used any sound-editing programs before. Thankfully I managed to learn how to use it quickly. Originally I wanted to work a piano
score into the background, but because the sound quality of my microphone was not the best I scrapped the
idea.