#proji

Ryuichi Yamashiro, ad for Morisawa Co., early 80s

from “Ukranian Space Invaders”

found on 50watts

Julia Condon

I mean, the part of this video that struck me the most is the amount of studio space Hatoum possesses! Three people could probably room in that place. Sometimes I wonder if too much physical space has been given over to career and not enough to living (aka, affordable housing projects/initiatives). I feel the need now to put a disclaimer here and say that I understand art is ‘vital.’ But eh. 

“I find this very exciting — that not knowing,” Hatoum says, right at the end of the Tate video. I appreciate that. As a being in my mid-twenties,  I’m sort of haunted often about the idea that I have no idea where life or my practice are taking me, so it’s nice to see this obscurity framed in a positive light. Probably a useful approach for my practice, too. Sometimes not knowing what I’m gonna do annoys me. But perhaps I should just let the blank space allow me to fall deeper into the work, whatever it is, and see where it takes me. 

I also found myself gravitating towards the material of soap — I love soap! The big, bulky, colourful clear or opaque bars. I like the fact they can hold a fragrance and smell like pomegranate, or olive oil, or goat’s milk, or salt water. They’re so unassumable. And soap can change states. It melts, then it hardens. As Hatoum has done, you can press things into it. The artist Anicka Yi has done this too. I found myself, after this video, gravitating towards all that reminded me of soap. I love how a bar can hold things in suspension forever. 

Google search: soap bars

George Chaplin

Josef Albers

Akomfrah’s work resonated with me on quite a personal level; my grandfather fled South Africa (KwaZulu-Natal) during the apartheid and ended up here in Canada, with none of his family. It’s overwhelming to think of all the events — both tragic and holy — that had to occur in order to produce me, as I am, here and now. I understand what Akomfrah meant when he said that paintings taught him how to be a person, though not how to be black. My mother was born in Belfast. Sometimes I feel I’m not sure how to be ‘mixed,’ nor what it means for me to be both black and white, especially at a time when the relation between black and white is still so…tumultuous. His work also feels like collage, which is one of my favourite mediums. Pieces from here and there, coming together to speak on large stories, large happenings…I definitely want to have collage feature in my final project, but seeing Belmore and Galanin experiment with material and location has me thinking — is there something else I can use? Digital is not so tactile. I’d be interested to try a method that requires scissors.

Gee’s Bend

John Akomfrah