carole cluer

Art, hope and self acceptance

Tag: cancer

exhibitions

I am currently involved in two very different exhibitions.

The first is a wonderful book art exhibition organised by the University of Kent and supported by the Wellcome Trust at The Beaney Gallery, part of Canterbury Museums. Its run has been extended until the end of September and if you are in the area and would like to visit here are the details

http://canterburymuseums.co.uk/events/prescriptions/

It is particularly special for me as it features 15 pieces from the artist Martha Hall on loan from the University of New England. Hall’s books document her experiences with breast cancer and interactions with the medical community from 1998 until her death in 2003. I discovered her work during my first year at Sheffield Hallam University and I think I must have quoted her in every one of my essays and my dissertation. Even across an ocean and never having seen her work she spoke to me, to now have a work of mine in the same room as hers is something I would never have imagined. I loved her work so much I searched out and bought a copy of her catalogue ‘Holding in, Holding on’, the quote below is from the introduction

The process of making books has been a powerful part of my healing…
They are a way to share my emotions with my family…
They are a way to educate others about cancer…
They are a way I can have a voice in the world.
They are about making choices.
They are about living.

My book in the exhibition is from my BA degree show, it was a follow on piece from my live art, it is a simple white book containing a gold point grid, at each intersection is a tiny blue dot reminiscent of the tattoos used to mark out the radiotherapy grid on my body. The book contains 45704 dots, one for each person diagnosed with breast cancer in 2004, the year I was diagnosed. The gold point grid is made from dragging a fine 9ct gold wire across a medium to deposit a line of gold on the paper, it is a pale grey that will darken over time, at the moment it looks a little like ordinary graphite pencil, like life its preciousness is easily overlooked.

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Some reactions to the exhibition

http://www.artnowpakistan.com/prescriptions/

http://collective-investigations.blogspot.co.uk/2016/04/intimate-and-cathartic-is-constellation.html

And the last word on this exhibition goes to Martha

I am carrying out half of the conversation – from time to time somebody would carry on another piece of the conversation.

The second exhibition I’m involved in is at Sir Harold Hillier Gardens gallery Southampton until the end of July and is a regional show for the UK Coloured Pencil Society. I am just a beginner with coloured pencils so I’m always surprised when I am accepted, using them is like a little holiday, I use a very rough paper which encourages a much looser style to my graphite work and its very much just about enjoying the moment.

 

New Exhibition, New Journey

Well I know I am never going to get an award for the most updated blog, hats off to those who manage to fit in regular updates in their busy lives!

The summer has flown by, filled with family, but now with my son back at uni and my daughter beginning a new life with her first job in Cornwall I need to focus on my own work.

My summer hasn’t been completely devoid of art however and that is my first piece of news, last Thursday air arts launched their 2012/13 season with an exhibition in The Royal Derby Hospital and I am lucky enough to be part of it.

I am showing seven of my solar photograms, the theme is light relief and so fits perfectly with this part of my practice that explores how we use objects to comfort and reassure us during difficult times and is obviously completely dependent on sunlight for its creation. Interestingly each artist was given an object from Derby Hospital’s archives that linked with their work as part of the Hidden Histories project.

This exhibition is especially important for me because ultimately it is where i want my work to be seen, by the public, in their everyday life to hopefully connect with them during times of uncertainty.

The exhibition has been beautifully curated by Antoinette Burchill with a wide variety of work by other very talented artists and will be on display in the hospital until March, if you are in the area go and have a look, you will find my work on level 1 near  maternity.

You can read more about the work of air art at http://airarts.net/  and the Hidden Histories project http://hiddenhistories.tumblr.com/

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My other news is that I am about to start my Masters in Fine Art, I am excited, scared, nervous and disbelieving, who would have thought that when I went to that small informal outreach lesson comfortingly called ‘Drawing for the Terrified’  that I could have got a degree never mind been accepted on a masters course.  I think if someone had told me then that that was a possibility I would have been too overwhelmed to continue but I have been incredibly lucky to have had really supportive tutors, each encouraging me on to the next step.

I think that is the wonderful thing about life, you never know what it holds for you, there was a time when I worried whether I would see my children grow up, I worked in an office to fit around family life and wondered if I could draw.

I am doing what I dreamed of when I was fifteen, it s a little late but perhaps sweeter for it, and shines brighter because it is a consequence of the darkest time of my life.

I know now that no one has any guarantees in life but also that if you look there are always new and wonderful things to see and experience, although sometimes these may be small and fleeting they are precious and glorious.

Self Portrait

For the last eighteen months I have been drawing portraits of people with scars. I have wanted them to be a celebration of imperfection and a counter to what sometimes gets mistaken for society, you know the magazines and films where the already surgically perfected get airbrushed into impossible proportions. There is a unique and geniune beauty about someone who has lived a life and who has come to accept what that life has made them, who accepts all the physical and emotional scars that life has drawn across their body and soul as proof of a journey taken.  I have always known that I am interested in this because of the many scars I have and how difficult I find applying this philosophy personally – I find I am always less tolerant with myself than others.

Anyway, I soon began to realise that each portrait I drew had an element of self portrait in it, I was circling around something I was too scared to execute.  All those wonderful people who agreed to let me draw them were so much braver than me.

At Christmas I drew my first self portrait, it was for my Jan assessment so when it came to having to display it I chose a dark corner in the basement of our studios and hoped no one would notice it. It made me feel physically sick to show it.  I  soon realised it was a pretty bad drawing, I was so scared of  actually looking at myself Ihad rushed it so when it came to deciding what to do for my final degree show I knew I had to redraw it – properly this time.

I have taken twice as long to draw this picture than I usually do, really focusing on each centimetre. In the next few days I have got to hang it in the gallery, that is going to be the toughest bit and I am  not sure how late I will leave it.  A scar isn’t just a mark  on your skin it is the story of a moment in your life. For me, my scar represents what I hate the most about myself, the fear that keeps me awake at night and is the thing that somehow makes me feel ashamed, I can’t quite believe I am going to stick it on a wall and let people see it – let people judge me.  I have to remind myself that it also represents what I feel most proud about myself, what I have endured and survived and the example I want to show my daughter and son.

If I feel like this it might seem weird to you that I am posting this, but I am just sitting in my study typing, alone, this is me just dipping my toe into the water, any reactions are distant and removed. Real life begins on the 1st of June when the exhibition opens.

Its not the best photo but I hope you can see it well enough,it’s a little over life sized and I have framed it with glass so that the viewer can see their reflection over the drawing

When

When I was young I thought

I would live forever.

Life was permanent

and indestructible.

Age and illness would never bring

their frailty and doubt.

Time proved me wrong and

tempered its preciousness.

Now I know that like all men

I hold onto life by a golden thread.

New work

I recently completed  my first public work. It was a live art drawing which sounds quite dramatic but actually it was quiet and unassuming.

A few months ago I had one of those ideas that just keep going around and around in your head.

I had seen an article about the numbers of people who had been diagnosed with a type of cancer the year before and it made me think that somewhere there were statistics that contained me. You tend to forget that when you read about mass numbers that each one is an individual.

So I sent off a few emails and the kind people at Cancer Research uk supplied my with the data.

In 2004 45704 people were diagnosed with breast cancer, that included 9 men.

Think of it, 45704 families affected

I was already interested in the tattoos that you get when you have radiotherapy, I had been researching the work of American book artist Martha A Hall who created a book called tattoo. I had also been looking on forums and people really seemed to hate those tiny tattoos, I know it might seem such a tiny thing to worry about when you are fighting cancer but it does feel like you are being permanently branded.

A member of a club you never wanted to join.

Also the process of radiotherapy is pretty dehumanising, before you start you have a session where you are measured, you are left alone in a darkened room, wedged in by heavy cushions to immobilise you whilst laser lines are beamed across your body. The staff were great but you do feel alone and frightened.

Anway I decided I wanted to use the tiny blue/black dot you are tattooed with to symbolise each person.

I was lucky enough to get the opportunity to create my work in the Cantor building of Sheffield Hallam University, if anyone is interested its on the second floor.

I marked a cm grid using the traditional art of goldpoint, you actually drag a fine gold wire across the surface to deposit a tiny amount of gold. The line looks very ordinary, a bit like graphite pencil.

Like life its preciousness is easy to overlook.

The grid measured a little under 3 metres by 2 metres and took 30 hours. Next I placed a tiny dot of blue/black ink at each intersection until I had done 45704, one for each person diagnosed.

Initially it was difficult to see the lines but as the number of dots increased it gained form, it’s still delicate and lace like and perhaps easy to overlook but its also, I think, quite powerful. The number of dots is quite overwhelming, they seem much bigger than a number.

Having never worked in public before I was pretty scared but actually that was the best bit. The students and staff (none of whom were artists) that walked by were interested and took time to chat. They understood that the endeavour and labour was integral to the work, that its delicacy was given weight by the investment of time. Their reactions were better than I could have hoped for.

Lots of my fellow students came over to support me which was lovely.

The work took me about 46 hours to complete and is awaiting a permanent label, it wasn’t easy as because of my treatment I find it painful to hold my arm up for any length of time, but it was definitely worth it.

I am now working on an artists book based on the same subject and would love to take the work to other locations.

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