Case study: EMBODY, by Ali Northcott

Catch-up once again! I volunteered a couple of my days to one of the event programs that Dance4 was putting on, titled Embody by Ali Northcott. The significance of this event was its relevance to my academic research question (which by this point was submitted as a project proposal last week). Clicky! It was presented at the Bohunk Institute.

I initially helped to set it up.

Main entry

The series of spaces had already been set up by the technicians.

As I was providing further voluntary assistance, it became increasingly apparent that this was a delicate performance piece. There was a requirement of complete silence behind the set. The participant/spectator was asked to take his/her shoes and socks off. The spectator would then go into the second space, which was covered in earth, to watch a short, silent film of rough duration of five minutes. I would then collect those shoes and take it backstage to have it delivered by another volunteer to the third and final space after the audience would have their feet washed. 

There were a few errors in this piece, which did not surprise me.

1. Not enough subtle direction for the intended conclusion of the piece. This was exemplified by one participant standing in the second space long after the short-film had finished. Another one, in the third space, had walked through the wrong entrance to find us backstage... slightly embarrassing for us and probably more so for the participant! 

2. Referring to the first error, there was too much emphasis on subtlety itself. It might be slightly unfair of me to say this, given that I had no insight into what the spectators were being told or provided front-of-house. But absolute silence and cloak to conceal our presence, whilst all very well for the sake of the experience and the performance, may have backfired a bit on Ali, me and the volunteers. I think this lends more explanation to the first error. 

The question that needs to be addressed now revolves around the intrinsic directions one gives to the audience in order to improve their engagement with interactive pieces of art and performance. 

Silkweave.

Here are two major reasons why I appreciate digital approaches to Contemporary Art:

1. Its integration into modern technology, namely the internet, which makes it more far more accessible than a gallery space (where even if it is free, open to all and spraying spectators with wine and smiles in the name of a launch, there will always be an unfailing sense of estrangement in and out of the arts). Not that I dislike gallery spaces.
2. Its increasing inclusion of those who would never see themselves as "artists." Refer to the first reason.

I came across a perfect exemplar of both reasons about a year ago. It was in the form of a website. The only instruction you get is "Draw Something," which you then click on to be creatively responsive to your heart's content through this provided medium. There are the additional options where you can change the patterns, colour and algorithms. Some of the results in a quick google search speak for the possibilities themselves.

Anyone with the internet or a reasonably functional iPhone can play with this website, hence the above reasons for my appreciation of digital art. The question I am left with, however, is how one considers this website. Is Silkweave more of an interactive piece of art or an interactive medium for it? I don't question the feasibility of setting something like this up in a gallery setting; it can be done easily. But then that still wouldn't answer the question.

Silkweave was made by Yuri Vishnevsky.

The MA Induction Project (which I should have posted several weeks ago).

Seems I'm playing catch-up with this online journal reflection thingy-ma-bob. I estimate that I am roughly a week behind given that I was encouraged to practically make two entries a day... Okay, so it might be two weeks. Or more? Well, I will describe the things I've done and mused upon over the weeks in the hopes that I will be more up to date. So, this will all come in parts.

1. There was the induction project. A collaborative effort that focused on various interpretations of Nottingham, which led to a disorientated art piece and a conclusive presentation at the Nottingham Contemporary. Lucky me, I thought! That kind of exposure may do some favours. I ended up using my old drawing style to contribute my little bits:

These parts ended up representing the old castle quarter of Nottingham. It was strange to be asked to explore the city as if I was somehow a newcomer. But I didn't really have to. All of these old monuments and folklore were a part of Nottingham. Having grown up in this region, it's fair to say that I am also a part of it as well, as explained to every other MA student at the Contemporary:

My pieces went on to form a bigger puzzle, which resembled the largely available map of Nottingham City. The others in my group had their own pieces to do what they pleased with them.

From an interaction design point of view, the fun obviously stemmed from slotting it altogether. Not only that, but others were invited to make their own artistic interpretations and make their own subsequent Nottingham art piece. The same templates we used were provided. 

Truth be told, I was not entirely engaged to the project. I was expecting more flashy computers and resources, and more consistency in terms of materials. The entire artpiece in its finality also felt too delicate to the point that I didn't want anyone to go near it. There's a problem right there, and it's one that I hope to address on this course! How sturdy do you make an artpiece before you want others to physically engage with it in order to influence another outcome?

In hindsight, I shouldn't have expected any of the above if I was working in collaboration with cross MA disciplines, and be told that I only have my own resources to work with. I honestly just wanted to get on with my own course. Perhaps it was a way of getting me to consider the idea of future collaborations, and how I would use my own creative thinking and knowledge to achieve whatever goal on the table. It's a useful insight, especially if I am to continue exhibiting artwork with other people and hope for some kind of consistency rather than justify fragmented visual viewpoints in the name of diversity. 

Starting on Interaction Design, alleged creative blocks and a convincing piece by a previous student.

So, here I am, after two years of academic hiatus, studying at Nottingham Trent on a course that draws closer to my tastes in modern art than Fine Art actually does. At this point I am still racking my brain on an academic inquiry that would work to inform my creative practice. My only problem is that I have not been creatively active for said two years, and it has rubbed off into my daily habits, especially since I just worked most of that time and got fiendishly drunk in between. 

I went to look at this course back in April (a pretty dramatic and horrible time, and the addition of a massive urge to change my life again and, well, actually become inspired). I was no longer prepared to take up Fine Art again because, well, I see no sodding point with it in terms of trade and career prospects (a pretty big deal to me, that). Not to mention that I was also burned out by the end of my BA degree. My art practice now is a secondary thing for my spare time, which is often occupied by other, less productive but more fun things. 

Anyway, less of that: here is the piece of work that convinced me to throw all of my saved up tuition money at. It is the kind of artwork that I would like to make due to its engagement of the audience.  It is titled "Play?" and it is by a previous student of Interaction Design. It is a good example of the intrinsic methods used to encourage a spectator to be a part of the artwork.

Follow the link here: http://vimeo.com/13287250