Maxine
Bristow
August
Kyoko returned to Chester for the second
stage of the project on the 1st of September. We were both
reflecting on, how in a way, we felt fortunate that we had
begun our period of working together so early on in the year
and that our time together [due largely to teaching commitments]
had been split into two stages. The first period of time had
been concerned with familiarising ourselves with our work,
with each other, and with developing ideas. We had then had,
what we both acknowledged, was an important period of time
apart when we could at least think about the work even if
we didn’t have much time to
engage in any making. This last period of the project, we
both agreed, would be very much concerned with time in the
studio together and the practicalities of actually making
the work. Whilst we reflected on our fortune at starting early,
we also ruminated on the fact that in terms of journal entries
we had perhaps drawn the short straw!!
In terms of our agenda for the month:
Kyoko had already made one pair of the organdie jeans that
were going to be part of her installation and it was her intention
to use this period to make the remaining eleven pairs.
Kyoko stated at the outset that she would
have to finish all eleven pairs here in Chester as she didn’t
have access to the quality of sewing machine that she required
for the work back in Japan, but she clearly had her work cut
out to achieve this. The situation was made all the more urgent
as soon after Kyoko arrived we heard that we would both have
to have work ready for images for the catalogue by the 18th
September and at the time of hearing this [with two weeks
to the 18th September] neither of us had anything in a position
to photograph!
It had been my intention to begin mass-producing
the various elements for the two conduit sets of work, starting
with the cast ‘light -switch’ blocks.
I cast 36 in total and all that remained
was for me to lightly sand the fronts and take them all down
to the same thickness by sanding the backs. Although I had
tried to cast them all the same thickness, the pressure of
pouring plaster before it began to set had made it difficult
to ensure an accurate level. What I envisaged as a simple
‘neatening off’ job proved to be a major drama
as the addition of granite and carborundum to the plaster/concrete
mix made the blocks incredibly difficult to sand. I tried
a whole range of workshop/power tools and various kinds of
sand papers and ended up using a surf form and file which
though more successful, very quickly blunted. A particular
testing day was when I had worked on the blocks with wet and
dry paper, placed the wet bocks on the table to dry, only
to find that they had picked up stains from the table and
were therefore unusable! The outcome was that out of a total
of 36 cast I had about 16 that were of a quality that I was
happy with, and a job that I had thought would take a couple
of days took over a week!
The urgency of having work ready for
catalogue images meant that I couldn’t continue to mass-produce
the various other elements for the two pieces and instead
had to concentrate on realising a small section of each piece.
There was also the issue of finding an appropriate space in
which to temporarily install our work and we spent a couple
of days organising the space and cleaning up and repainting
boards.
To realise the two pieces I had to source
the right kind of conduits, saddles and bushes [electrical
jargon!!], and was surprised to find such variety in what
are universal components. The main problem was trying to find
parts without the embossed name of the manufacturer. The stitched
elements had to be completed and decisions then had to be
made about the spacing of the conduits and whether to paint
the saddles and bushes grey or white and even such seemingly
trivial [but now I realise not so] decisions about whether
the stitched insert remained flush to the surface or were
recessed. What was important in informing these decisions
was that the eye was directed to the areas of fine dense stitching
as the focal point of the work and so saddles, which in the
light-switch piece were originally painted grey, were at the
last minute all repainted white.
Having completed two small sections of
the pieces I am still musing on how I feel about them. Being
new and very different work to what I have produced before
it will take some ‘living with’. My initial reaction
is that although I am generally pleased, I think I might prefer
the stitched saddle piece to the cast light-switch piece?
I’m not really sure why this might
be but maybe because it is more radically minimal and is closer
to an intervention with real space? I am a little concerned
that the light-switch piece is something of a one-liner…‘oh
look it is a concrete light-switch!’ In playing between
the world of real objects and a formally abstract piece might
it fail on both counts?
The visit from the architect who is going
to design the exhibition
[on the18th September with Lesley Millar
and the photographers for the catalogue] was interesting in
that it prompted me to reflect on how I envisaged the work
in a space. My intention with the work is that it should have
a quiet intensity, that on the one hand you hardly notice
it but on the other hand it is insistent in its seemingly
endless repetition and in the concentration of action within
the stitched elements. In terms of space, I guess I imagine
the pieces on a long wall so that there is the sense that
the work could go on forever, maybe a transitory or ‘non-space’
such as a corridor? What would be interesting in this kind
of space would be the inability to perceive the work as a
whole and the movement of the viewer [similar to the installation
of bags in the Jerwood exhibition in the Crafts Council] in
reading the piece. I could also imagine the pieces occupying
a whole seemingly empty room. What will be difficult is getting
a balance between the work on the one hand looking quiet,
and on the other looking totally insignificant. What I also
discussed with the architect was the possible placement of
the freestanding handrail/barrier. This piece was conceived
as ideally one of a multiple set which could be placed ‘one
after another’ as in Donald Judd’s floor stacks
or in rows to divide a space or describe a corridor, but having
only the one will require careful positioning - maybe placed
so that it blocks a space or bridges a gap?
This last couple of weeks I have finally
made a start on the stitched panels for the freestanding handrail/barrier,
stitching in the evenings in front of the TV, on the bus and
on the train. I have also been making the first of the buttonholed
‘ventilation grills’, which are going to be my
contribution to Kyoko’s installation.
It is my intention to complete at least
one of these before Kyoko leaves so that we can see how they
might work with the organdie jeans and the extended pockets.
What we are aiming for with this piece [similar to the stitched
elements within my own work] is a kind of contained energy
where we will have the simple, quiet ventilation grill like
form on one side of a wall with the burst of energy that will
be the jeans and pockets flowing from the ‘grill’
on the other side of the wall.
What struck us was the way that the buttonholes
are similar to the edge of the pocket, a rim, a point of transition,
a point of entry or exit. I remember Kyoko asking me what
was behind the buttonhole, where did the opening lead to?
What also strikes me as interesting in constructing the piece
and in terms of our discussion about the arbitrary nature
of boundaries, is the way that the buttonholes are made means
that what was stitched originally on the surface/on the outside
gets, as part of the construction, turned to the back/to the
inside.
Next week, the 1st of September, things
here at College begin to kick back into action as most staff
return, and I will have to start thinking about teaching.
Kyoko was due to leave on the 5th September with the intention
that she will travel for a couple of weeks before returning
to Japan. As she still has much to do, she is going to forget
about travelling and continue working until she finishes her
work or until she has to fly back on the 18th September. I
will try to spend a few more days in the studio and then it
will have to be back to the term time routine of snatching
time as and when.
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Kyoko Nitta
- August
I always feel nostalgic when I return
to a place where I used to stay.
Since I completed my one and a half months
in the UK in March, I have been back in Japan and now I’m
visiting England again.
While I was in Japan I couldn’t
do much about the Project. In the beginning, I felt emotional
about the project but gradually I have reached the point at
which I enjoy the actual process of making the work.
Meanwhile, I feel comfortable about the
fact that Maxine, who works at the other corner of the studio,
is welcoming me here.
At the moment there are no students around
because of the holiday, so we have the spacious studio all
to ourselves. There are large working desks, enough space,
a Bernina and the BBC radio. I cannot wish for anything better
than this. It has been a long time since I had the opportunity
to work in such an ideal space, probably not since I left
art school.
The keyword for our collaborative piece
is ‘border’. The border between pockets and garments.
When people wear something, it splits the person in two dimensions.
One is something obvious and visible, and the other is something
more personal, hidden.
Jeans are the most popular clothes in
the world. The function of the garment is the reason for its
prominence.
Jeans usually have five pockets. This
is remarkable, especially when I compare jeans with other
styles of trousers, particularly for women. Jeans were initially
workmen’s clothes and by providing many pockets around
the body the trousers accommodated the needs of workmen.
I’ve been working on my transparent
jeans which I have made from cotton organza. I borrowed jeans
from people who I have met here and every pair has a different
shape, stitch, maker, buttons and design of pocket. When the
jeans are well work they show the figure of the wearer through
the frayed and faded denim.
When Maxine saw my work she said “Your
jeans look like the ghost of what they have been’. They
actually looked like a ghost or a shadow of the jeans, containing
the story behind the details of the jeans.
We will connect our pieces with a long
tube, which Maxine said “Looks like the one used by
chimney sweepers in old times.” I’d like to see
it. I made our tube with cotton organza which is difficult
to iron after it has been stitched, so I use Velcro.
Lesley came to the studio with
the photographer and the exhibition designer to discuss the
layout for the exhibition. When we hung the ‘jeans ghost’
for the photo shoot, I could visualise what the final result
will be. I have to work hard
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