This gallery contains 6 photos.
This gallery contains 9 photos.
In the first days of Ceangal 2013 we went for excursions around the area, we talked to the visiting artists about history, politics, culture, heritage, environment, people and landscape. In Gairloch there was a ceilidh, the whirling figures became ghostlike blurs in photographs, a metaphor for our own fleeting lives in this place, and also of the peoples, communities and cultures which came before us. I started making dancing figures in various locations around the reserve, using unfired wet clay, which would quickly disintegrate and fade back into the earth as people do, like the blurred dancers who fade away home at the end of the ceilidh. As I worked the figures started telling their own stories instead of just dancing. Our lives now are all full of global information, we all are so busy, living in our own heads, which are full of lists, chores and clutter. It is easy to dash through the stunning glens and forests without stopping to look, to listen, to absorb, to communicate or connect. By placing figures in this landscape I am forcing myself to stop and take a moment, to explore more, to clear my own head. These little clay people are also inviting you, and other people to do the same. It would be easy to miss these clay people, just as it is easy to miss a bright flower, bird, dragonfly or patterned lichen.
Are these figures happy or sad? Without gender or race or age specified, who are they? Are they together in clans, or apart, isolated in a crowd? Are they dancing, or fighting? Do they come to celebrate the land, or to spoil it? Which one is you? Which one would you like to be? Are they climbing up to help each other, to work together, play, learn, create, and evolve collectively? Or are they exploiting and climbing over each other in a race to the top? How do they make you feel? If you found them in the woods, would you laugh, be annoyed or uncomfortable? Would you leave them there, move them or destroy them? Who are they, how do they connect to each other, how do we connect with each other? Who are the people you carry in your head, who are you connected to in your lives? How do you relate to the world about you? When was the last time you stopped and sat on a rock to look, to listen, to absorb, to communicate, to connect?
On the path of my life
I have created my own image.
associated with my ‘I’.
To maintain this image it become the aim of my life
As the time passes by
Life become tiresome and boring
Even multiple images of my ‘I’
Don’t work, they looses their glitter and
Feel desolated in the jungle of my ‘I’
As I mov away from the mirror and
My image disappears too
Now I am able to feel I am part of the whole
Relieved from my ‘I’
On distant blue lake is ,
Setting the path of my journey
On a playful jungle trail
The reflective surface on the way reminds me of my past
I have left it far behind me .
I am on the path of nature.
I am free as the transparent jungle breeze.
Héliophanie II : vegetal relics
I am a photographer as well as a visual artist, I use the « camera obscura » and other ancient techniques for my photographic set-ups. I am moved by memory charged objects as well as actively involved in the process of capturing mother nature through the world of growing plants.
This installation of 50 cyanotypes is inspired by the work of the scientists in Benne Eighe reserve, collecting vegetal species in small enveloppes.
These vegetal relics have been taken from the oldest graves of Gairloch cemetery. They are a kind of notebook for the souls, an anthropo-flore epitaph, syncretism of human, sun and growing vegetation.
I hang 1,600 pieces of small white cloth to wood.
I install them in a crack and the circumference of the stone.
1,600 pieces of cloth is population of Gairloch.
This prays for happiness.
However, they are exposed to an invisible thing to our eyes now.
I stare at things in the background.
the abandoned house, Taggan
pencil on the wall
typeface: New Caledonia
The starting point of the work was the hand-written sentence found on site on the wall-paper. „I kissed her on the ship and the crew began to roar (…)“ is the slightly changed first line from an old seamen’s song called Baltimore Shanty.
In the work four lines of the refrain are written in New Caledonia typeface on the walls. The idea of repetition can be understood as a reflection upon the cycle of leaving and returning.
Humans by their nature like to accumulate possessions, own a space, maybe a home, favourite place, piece of land, and lay claim to that area. Nature in the end is the ultimate landowner and although we like to think we are separate, in control of spaces – we are not, we are an integral part of nature, and often forget that fact. We can protect ourselves with clothing, housing, barriers, vaccinations, dwell in an area, but eventually nature will evolve and reclaim by means of growth, natural disaster, and disease.
We are but a speck in time, here only for a very short spell of time and actually in reality, probably know very little about that that surrounds us.
We preserve, manage, conserve protect but also destroy, leave marks, we like to think that our time here will be remembered. Do we have the right to claim ownership of anywhere we exist; after all, we are only passing through…shadows in history…
With this work, opening up a human habitation to nature, the process of decomposition had already begun with the caravan being unfit for anyone to live in. A door without a handle indicates privacy of space, ownership.
An area in the woods has also been “claimed”, cordoned off, a private space, ownership, but this will also eventually disappear, nature will take back what is hers.
One of the first days at the field station, I went with one of the botanists on a walk up a river to find a liverwort that is only found in 3 places in the world, one of them is Scotland.
The scientist walked slowly, looking at her feet, this was a new way of walking for me and it inspired this floor text about flowers. I have chosen the national flowers of each country represented by the artists on this residency. You will find different kinds of information about these flowers, representing the different ways we think about them and the changes in the history of each country. The individual flowers last a short time, the stories sometimes persist over hundreds of years, the only thing that remains constant in our time is the use of Latin as an international language for naming flowers. The flower stories follow the river courses that flow from Loch Maree.
‘Science and fiction in Wester Ross: The experiment’.
The very nature of being invited as an artist in residence is to work with the surroundings. In this context, I had first Scotland, its eeriness, ghost stories, overwhelming nature and landscapes to work with. On a more specific level, I also had the Anancaun field station where I met scientists studying the area. Photography has often been associated with authenticity, acting out as a ‘proof’ in science, police matters etc. As an artist and photographer I was interested in playing on that notion and thinking of experimentation, which is an important concept both to art and science. I therefore used my ignorance in science as an advantage on having a ‘fresh look’ and looked for mysterious, strange occurrences. The outcome is a series of photographs, which acts out as much as documentation of a place and as a poetic and aesthetic statement. Beginnings of an eerie narrative, which leaves the audience filling in the gaps and using their imagination to make up the whole story.
Loch Maree, a Scottish ghost story is another project I have made during my stay here and that can be encountered in the Taggan farm house.
I come from Paibeil on the west coast of North Uist in the Outer Hebrides. This is my first Residency; having graduated from Moray School of Art last year and I have enjoyed the experience immensely.
I have brought essences from other parts of my life to this place, learnt and added to them. Using found and resourced materials, I make work to create a conversation often distilled into the simplest of forms. Using Film I comment on movement, rhythm and transcendence; that is to be found in the simplest of tasks and moments. Considering perceptions of what is important, to take a moment to stop and be……
I work in traditional and digital media, producing work for both public places and exhibitions. My work is often site-specific and uses a broad range of materials and methodologies. A central element in all my work is drawing, often developing into installations and performances using digital media, particularly sound.
I question how objects and landscape contain memory, I gather information mapping time and examine the boundaries between public and private space. I involve people actively in the process as well as in the presentation of my work through interactive installations and collaboration.
Part of my time is spent working in the isolation of my studio and part working with people in their context; by working alongside people with different jobs and lives, their perspectives on art have an effect on the process and the finished work.
I have been a practicing visual artist since leaving Goldsmiths College, London University in 1990. During this time I have worked and lived in many places, often earning my keep from a variety of different jobs. These different facets of life have fed into or distracted me from being an artist. I have worked as a cook in a centre for asylum seekers, have studied discourse analysis and oral history and am a keen rock climber. Since 2010 I have lived on a boat on the Caledonian Canal in Inverness. I run a small events space and residency program aboard Loch Ness Barge and I also work a croft in Diabaig, by Torridon.