carole cluer

Art, hope and self acceptance

Tag: survival

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.

 

Speaking Out Exhibition

I am delighted that in just a few days I am taking part in Embrace Arts exhibition at The University of Leicester’s art centre.

imageimage

Although the majority of my practice involves drawing, for this exhibition I have revisited my interest with kintsugi, I have previously worked with blue and white plates for a piece called ‘unbroken’ related to my experiences of breast cancer.

This time I have chosen an assortment of plates that would represent different eras and social classes, I have included ones that would be easily recognisable, to contain something that would connect with the viewer’s own life and  emphasise how domestic violence affects all areas of society.

Plates are often chosen when first setting up home, their design reflects the type of home we hope to create, the image that we wish to present as a couple or family. They are desired, saved for, gifted. They are present in our everyday, our special occasions, our celebrations, our tragedies.

Throwing or smashing plates is often used as an image of domestic arguments. The breaking of pottery can be found in wedding and funeral rituals to symbolise something that cannot be undone. Even attempting repair is to accept imperfection.

The contrast of these plates, that were perhaps once carefully selected and are now cracked and repaired, their joints widened and under tension, seeks to highlight the sometimes stark differences between our hopes and realities.

Speaking Out Proof6.indd

I will add more photographs after the opening night, this Friday, 31st January 2014, 5pm-7.30pm

The exhibition runs until Friday 28th March 10am-6pm.

Please go along and have a look if you are able.

For more information about the exhibition and symposium this Friday

http://speaking-out.co.uk

http://www.embracearts.co.uk

Finding Jonathan

The Royal Derby Hospital is just in the process of organising its archive and they very kindly allowed me to search through their material, some of which hadn’t yet been archived. So much wonderful stuff! Reports on student nurses, midwifery books,  numerous mysterious machines and Florence Nightingales signature. Wonderful indeed but not what I was looking for… although I didn’t actually know what that was until I found a pile of amateur photographs. Someone sometime in the 1930/40/50’s ( I can’t tell) had taken a camera in and photographed different wards, I expect it was unusual then to be photographed and patients are sitting up smiling in bed, but it was the photos from the maternity ward that made me stop. Smiling nurses held armfuls of anonymous babies, with nothing to identify them it felt easy to imagine that they could be who ever you wanted;SONY DSC

and that is when my imagination began to fly.

On the 6th April 1959 my brother Jonathan was born, overdue and stillborn. This was a time before counsellors and memory boxes and he was whisked away unphotographed and unrecorded to an unknown grave. He was my older brother, so I have no memory of his birth and wasn’t told about him until I was in my thirties with children of my own. Yet he has had a huge impact on my life, he was the family secret that I kind of always knew about.

When I was told about Jonathan my father was dying and my parents wanted to know what had happened to him, so I set about finding out. It took just two phone calls to solve the forty year mystery, as you might expect with officialdom, he had been allotted a number, his location recorded. Archived.

It was as if he had been waiting for me to find him.

I have always felt a sense of guilt that somehow I let him down by not knowing about him sooner, not carrying him in my heart as I grew up. Seeing that photo of the nameless babies I thought how they could be anyone’s child.. or brother. What if I were to create the memory box that Jonathan would have had if he were to have been born today, would that satisfy my need to memorialise him, to give him a presence in this world?

After a lot of research into what sort of things might go into a memory box and thinking about my own children’s births and mementoes I began to draw..and think .. and imagine.

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The content list not only itemises all contained within the box but other events crossed out – his first school photo, his first lost tooth, all the milestones he would never reach. The box is poignantly empty, indicative of a life unlived.

I do feel that this imagined memory box has helped me and would like to research further into the effects of the created art object. I would like to perhaps work with others who have lost a baby and have been left without anything to remember them by.

Lydy 2

The first year of my MA course is finished and I have started the process of catching up with my ‘real’ life, apart from the boring stuff – tidying and gardening etc. I thought I would finally update my rather sporadic blog. I am also busy working on something for an exhibition in the New Year, its really exciting and will flex my non drawing muscles! Hopefully I will have something to show for that soon too.

Anyway back to my drawings of Lydy, I posted my first completed portrait a few months ago but  have been slightly distracted from my original intention to complete a series of drawings by the requirements of my course but at last I have finished my second portrait of Lydy.

One of the modules on my course concerns drawing from archives, it took me off in a whole other direction. A complete surprise but totally wonderful, as soon as I figure out how to present it I will post up my work.

I took my first drawing back to show Lydy who fortunately was happy with my first attempt and graciously agreed to sit for me again. This time around it really did feel like I knew her better and I do think this second portrait feels different although perhaps I need time to work out exactly how,perhaps we were both more relaxed.

I hope you like it.

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New Work – Portrait of Lydy

I just wanted to show you my first work in what hopefully will become a series. As with all my pictures I want to apologise for the quality, its really tough getting a good clear photo of a 100 x 70 cm drawing, they always come out too dark without the full contrast, but I hope you can get the idea.

If you would like to see the real thing it is being displayed at Sheffield Hallam University along with some of my other work on the second floor of Cantor Building.

It is a portrait of a wonderful woman called Lydy whose
bravery, already tested beyond the experience of most of us, has extended to allowing a stranger to draw her.

I am extremely grateful for her generosity and graciousness which I hope I have begun to capture.


I will soon begin the next drawing which Lydy sat for after seeing this portrait for the first time, hopefully using the process of drawing to get to know her better and to extend my work into other media.

Any feedback would be really useful, especially if you manage to see it for real!

Thank you

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

hope

I am making the artists book that I have spoken about before, I want to use cyanotypes of dandelions for the cover and end sheets and have been waiting for them to appear so I can experiment. Finally a spell of uncharacteristically warm weather has kicked nature into action and never ones to miss out, dandelions have begun to embroider the fields around my house. Its a little early for them to turn into clocks but I managed to find one on my first ‘expedition’ and I carried it carefully back in the palm of my hand. I am not sure if it was the hour long walk in the sun or seeing life bursting out around me but I felt a hell of a lot better on my way back than when I started. Life really is hope

Beauty – only skin deep?

A lot of my work is concerned with how our appearance affects the way we think about ourselves so I do spend time thinking about how this notion of beauty has shaped our world. Although I have never considered myself beautiful I have had to adjust my own view of myself as surgery and age has changed me, life traces the passage of time over all our bodies and if we are to remain content with ourselves we have to learn to accept those changes.

We have all grown up hearing phrases  like ‘ugly as sin’ and listening to fairy stories like Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella, Rumpelstiltskin, where the hero/heroines are beautiful and the ugly are there to be punished or redeemed. In the past women have been disfigured and restricted by conventions that demanded corsets and foot binding and it is a shame that today when women in the west have more freedom than ever that so many feel it necessary to starve themselves and undergo surgery.

The trouble is beauty can now be bought, cosmetics, dyes, surgery, dieting can create a facsimile of perfection.  It is interchangeable with success, if the rich and successful are beautiful then by becoming beautiful riches and success will follow. It is used to promote and sell, it is a commodity to exploit.

It would be lovely to think that how you look doesn’t make a difference but you only have to remember back to your school days to know that the beautiful are treated differently, the groups of pretty popular teenagers to whom life seems to come so easily and the groups of awkward plain young people who have already learnt that they have more to prove in life. What is sad though is in a recent worldwide survey only 2 % of women stated they believed themselves to be beautiful.[1]

When we view the rest of the world through the filter of the airbrush then its understandable that our own image will be less perfect and as long as beauty is epitomised by the absence of imperfection then we are all doomed to fall short of that standard.

With medical advances enabling those with disabilities and deformities to live the variety of the human body is only going to widen, if we are to evolve into a happier and more content society then we need to find a way that allows beauty to encompass that variety.

We need to embrace the imperfections that life writes across our bodies. The notion of beauty fundamentally affects how we view the body, others and our own and it has been used to exclude and control but there is hope that it can become inclusive and celebratory because ultimately it is us who write the guidlines.

Here are links to a couple of interesting websites

Changing Faces is a charity that works to promote equality and acceptance for those with facial disfigurement. The whole site is interesting but try taking their face equality survey and see how accepting you are.

http://www.changingfaces.org.uk/Face-Equality/Take-the-face-equality-survey

The Face Research Lab which is has online psychology experiments that judge the facial traits people find attractive and programme for you to create your perfect/average face

http://www.facelab.org


[1] Nancy Etcoff. ‘The Real Truth about Beauty: A Global Report’, Dove White Paper, (2004)                    

<http://www.clubofamsterdam.com/contentarticles/52%20Beauty/dove_white_paper_final.pdf&gt; [accessed 20 March 2011]

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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The solace of objects

“It seems that the soul… loses itself in itself when shaken and disturbed unless given something to grasp on to; and so we must always provide it with an object to butt up against and to act upon.” Michel de Montaigne, ‘Essais’, 1580

I recently visited The Wellcome Collection in London to see the exhibition ‘Charmed Life: The solace of objects’, it was the result of the artist Felicity Powell’s engagement with a collection of 1400 amulets, gathered by Edwardian Edward Lovett.

Felicity Powell – Charmed Life: The solace of objects – Wellcome Collection.

The cabinets were full of strange found and created objects believed by their owners to protect them or those they loved, some were beautifully carved as if the endeavour and skill heightened their power.

This connects closely with my own work  (see Art as Talisman page) and my interest in how we use objects or routines to comfort and reassure us and how we can use art, our own art, to help us cope with life.

I think this is particularly true in times of difficulty when we are unable to control our world, our vulnerability and fragility can become overwhelming, and if we aren’t able to gain reassurance through science or logic then we turn to more ephemeral sources of comfort.

In the past when medicine couldn’t see your child safely to their fifth birthday  parents would give them red coral to signify long life or blue beads to protect from bronchitis.

Even today most of us will own an object whose importance is far greater than its intrinsic value. A lucky mug or our grandmother’s left over knitting, or perhaps it’s the blackbird you see each morning that makes you feel well with the world. When we encounter problems and feel cut loose in a sea of uncertainty those objects can become even more important.

For me, the weeds that I saw quietly and yet determinedly growing amongst rubble or through frozen earth gave me my own determination. Now I am attuned to them and I watch for their appearance in my life. I am not giving them supernatural powers but just allowing them to reassure, they have become a small part of my own private scaffolding that supports me.

Even Edward Lovett who collected these objects through a purely anthropological interest and was dismissive of their powers when faced with his youngest son going to the front in The Great War tied a talisman around his neck to protect him.

When despair threatens we are programmed to protect ourselves with hope.