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Endings and Beginings

June 10, 2017 by Rebecca Collins   Comments (1)

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Last night was the Private View of the degree show of the 2017 soon-to-be graduates in BA Fine Art at the Wolverhampton School of Art.

This year, I am one of the soon-to-be graduates. As I’m a part-time student, I took part in last year’s degree show. So this is my second time.

 

Flier

 

This year, though, the feeling has been different. I have a rightful place in the degree show rather than being a pretender. Last year, I felt as if I was being granted a favour by being given some space to exhibit. Although I took part in the private view and all the excitement, I didn’t feel the same high level of emotion and celebration as my fellow students. This year, I felt it.

Today is the day after the Private View and today has been an odd day. I have definitely felt the post-Private-View blues. I was awake for 22 hours yesterday, starting with excitement over the general election result (hung parliament, in case you are reading this in twenty years time) and then excitement over the degree show. The day was fuelled by adrenaline, nerves, excitement, joy, smiles, alcohol, sore feet, real lady tights, nail polish, odd conversations, good friends, family, wine, gin, music, smoke, people, crowds, art, happiness and the odd crisp. After the degree show, which now is a bit of a blur, I went out and drank more and talked and sat and talked and drank even more and talked until 2am.

Today, The Next Day, I’ve been back at the School of Art to invigilate the exhibition and it has been a really quiet, solemn kind of day. I haven’t been entirely content today. I’ve spent far too much time engaged in Facebook Time Suckage. I’ve been oddly sad. I’ve stood for far too long. I know this lull is entirely normal for the day after a big event. I mean, have any of your ever gotten married? Today has been the Boxing Day of the Private View.

I have spent today watching the public walk around the degree show. I’ve found it oddly compelling watching people look at art. Secretly, I quite love it. I’ve done it for 5 hours, with just a break for lunch. I’ve seen people wonder, wander and ponder. I haven’t done much else (except Facebook time suckage).  

I’m hoping that once the weekend is over I will come back up again (emotionally speaking), and recover from this post-Private-View slump. I have to as next week is going to be busy.

And also, after all, this is an ending but it is also the start of the breathing space I need before a new beginning: otherwise know as a Masters in Fine Art. Woohoo!

 

 

What does it all meme?

May 30, 2017 by Rebecca Collins   Comments (0)

Sometimes the last-minute ideas are the maddest, yet, nonetheless worth pursuing, don't you think?

Such a last-minute idea came to me ten days ago, during my Final Major Project assessment, just in time for the forthcoming degree show. During this assessment, for which I wasn't actually being assessed being a part-time student (but that's not particularly relevant), one of the tutors not-really-assessing me suggested I create something interactive for the degree show to help members of the public to engage with my ideas on repetition. Just prior to assessment I had been asked if I needed an electrical socket. I had at the time said an emphatic 'no'. However, straight away after the assessment and after we had had this discussion, I changed my answer to a definite 'yes'. At that point, I had no idea what I was going to do with electricity, I just knew that I needed it.

The idea to create a new piece of art, with electricity, was bonkers and I had just over a week to do it. But sometimes I perform better under stress. It was a challenge, and 'challenge accepted', to quote Barney from How I Met Your Mother.

Of course, I needed help. I couldn't rise to this challenge alone. The tutor had mentioned memes as a source of inspiration. The idea came to me that perhaps I could create an interactive 'meme generator'. The question was: how? At that point, I had no idea. I could picture it, but I couldn't just go forth and create it. I also didn’t know a huge amount about memes. I knew them only as those annoying, more-not-than-often originally funny, images of cats or people pulling faces accompanied by overlayed corny witticisms. I knew that they worked, on some level, on the basis of their combination of image and text. I knew that they were popular and I knew that I’d seen thousands of them yet I rarely engaged in meme spreading myself.

However, there seemed to be something behind the whole meme phenomenon that resonated with my current obsession with repetition and copy. After all, the meme is the epitome of the combination of appropriated image and text resulting in an imitated but new effect. They illustrate the fallacy of Plato's shadows perfectly. This was exactly what I’d been thinking about and aiming for. I concluded that I had found a gold nugget. I just needed to do something.

To start the process, I carried out a little meme research. I found out that there was a formula to the world of memes. Not all memes communicate the same thing. Not all memes use the same strand of humour or message delivery. Some use photographic images, many of which are so recognisable as to border on the annoying, and some use cartoons. Images are often chosen for their generality and universality, for example, Batman slapping Robin and the toddler in a green and white top lifting his fist in triumph and others are chosen for their warped ugliness, for example, the cat with goggly eyes. The common theme seemed to be generality, and this aids in the generation of irony when combined with unexpected text. There are, I discovered, in fact a number of purposes to Internet memes: generality, irony, message and ambiguity. The meme world was actually much more interesting than I'd originally thought. Academics had even studied memes.

Memes are effective when there is a conflict between the original meaning of the image and the implied meaning in the superimposed text. They also work when the effect of the text contrasts with the effect of the image (aggressive vs cute or adult vs child). The most popular memes use images that have been copied, copied and copied again. This is a form of radical repetition. We love familiarity and we love even more the uncanny sense we can get from familiarity. The symbolism of the image can be totally unrelated to the original symbolism of the image when it was first constructed and, for some reason, this works.

Roland Barthes came up with the idea of the ‘third meaning’ in an essay of the same name (written in 1970). Here, he was talking about what happens when, using the analogy of parchment paper, the original meaning (here, image) is ‘wiped’ and new meaning replaces it. The image, in the case of the meme, being used a symbol, has an original meaning co-existing with a new meaning and there is something about that that creates something popular. So this is the prefect case of copying that creates something of value.

That is exactly what a meme is, a cultural object that is constantly being replaced and reproduced, copied to infinity, through replication. Memes illustrate Gilles Deleuze’s praise of the copy perfectly: they are dynamic repetition: they are reproduced and actualised to new ideas and they are fluid. They produce endless reproductions. There is no finite limit. They are the differences in repetition.

The best memes display a mastery of the matching of the signification of the image with that of the text. So after thinking about memes in this way, I knew just what I had to do: I had to create a meme generator to go along with the other reproduced and copied, repeated elements of my degree show pieces.

After research, my next task was to create an actual formula for the 'meme generator'.

In my research on memes, I had found out that there are various types of meme: irony, political, the X of the Y, work-related, relationship-related, cute cats, existentialism (the futility of life) and when / if. Through this, I had my formula.

I then studied hundreds of memes on the Internet. I felt as if I was losing my mind by this point. I teased together, from my endless scrolling, a number of templates for each category: for example, When the [noun] [verbs] / and you [verb] the [noun] or All I know is that… / I [verb] [noun]. Each category seemed to have roughly six templates. I created text files for each template for each category (this came to around 40 files).

The next step was to look at the images used in the most popular memes. I didn’t want to use the same images we see every day on Facebook (so no Batman slapping Robin or cat with goggly eyes), I wanted there to be an element of originality (albeit appropriating images that weren’t intended to be turned into memes). I sourced from my own images, mostly from my phone; took photographs; and found some lesser well-known images on the Internet.

Finally, I created word lists as text files for each template for each category. This added up to a lot of words. I had to create words that would work for different templates. The idea was that any combination of words when randomly put into the templates and matched with an image would create a unique meme which might hopefully be just as funny and uncanny as those created by conscious thought.

Not being a whizz with C# coding, I outsourced the next bit, the tricky bit. In other words, the putting together of the templates, the words and the images into a simple step-by-step interactive programme which could be run from a laptop and accessed / manipulated by big buttons. I was lucky that I knew someone who could do this for me, for free. The success of course depended on my comprehensive instruction. The computer programmer and I spent a lot of time talking it through over a glass or two of Chateauneuf du Pape.

The last part of the task was to create a physical box to house the devise. This was easier than the coding bit, although I had a great deal of help with that as well.

The result: the meme generator! Or, Plinth XP, as I fondly call it.

Testing the meme generator threw up a number of issues with some of the chosen words and templates, but with some tidying and fiddling, the final result, I hope, is interesting. Some of the generated memes that were thrown up through the testing process were better than others. My three children have had great fun creating memes. Some were a little nonsensical, but others were quite interesting and actually almost funny.

There is still some element of doubt of course as I have now run of testing time, and I haven’t been able to generate every combination of meme. So, the degree show will be a bit of a test for this idea.

To return to my initial thought, sometimes the last-minute ideas are the most interesting. If the meme generator works, I will now spend more time developing the piece for future use. For now, however, it seems to be exactly what I’ve been trying to discover with my obsession with repetition so I'm going to go with it and test it on the public.

Does it work? I hope so.

 

 

 

Inside vs outside and infinite stuff vs infinite space

May 14, 2017 by Rebecca Collins   Comments (0)

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One of the activities I have been engaged in during my 9-month long obsession over repetition has been doodling on painted MDF. I have spent hours doodling and drawing, scribbling and musing. The doodles are about repetition. The doodles represent repetition. They are also repetitious. They reflect my thoughts on repetition and my repetitious thoughts. The topics covered by my doodles are vast and varied and come from many influences over the last 9 months. They include: physics, philosophy, space, stuff, popular culture, TV, books, films, magazines, radio, buttons, images, icons, ideas, concepts, data, coffee shops, food, Christmas, Easter, holidays, conversations, work, loves, people, friends, family, acquaintances, hates, joy, sadness and life.

The painted MDF has become two plinths. Here is Plinth 1.0. This is Plinth 1.0 in Paris.

Plinth 1.0 in Paris

Plinth 2.0 is the opposite of Plinth 1.0. Plinth 1.0 has a skin of drawings and is black inside. Plinth 2.0 has a skin of black and has drawings on the inside. The idea is to reflect the opposites of infinite stuff and infinite space. The world vs the void.

Close up of Plinth 1.0

I made Plinth 1.0 first. I doodled on Plinth 1.0 pre-constructed. Once Plinth 1.0 was complete, I moved on to Plinth 2.0. I doodled on Plinth 2.0 in five pieces. I took each piece home to work on, one at a time. The five pieces were assembled to make a plinth after completion.

Plinth 2.0

I’m not sure how conscious I was of this but I’ve since noticed an interesting difference between the drawings on the first plinth compared to those on the second one. Plinth 1.0’s themes are general and external. They are global and universal. They derive from outside influences, the first half of the list above. They are about repetition. However, Plinth 2.0’s themes are much more personal and internal (see the second half of the list above). They are still about repetition but rather than about the repetition around me in the big wide world, they are about the repetitions in my head and my sphere of influence. I only noticed this interesting difference after I had completed Plinth 2.0.

The drawings on Plinth 1.0 are completely visible. The drawings on Plinth 2.0 are partly obscured as they are within the five walls of the plinth. They reflect what is in my mind, which I guess like Plinth 2.0 is mostly obscured to the outside world. 

When the two plinths are on show in the Degree Show people will be able to examine the drawings on both plinths. However, it will be much more difficult for them to study the drawings on Plinth 2.0. I also fear that they will also struggle to understand many of the themes behind them. I hope that they will find something they can relate to. Even if they are challenged by my drawings, my hope is that the concept is clear: life is repetitious, both on a macro and a micro level, but it is also ever changing and ever interesting because of the small changes that come about from repetition. I’m referring here to the infamous infinite variations. We should praise the minute differences that come about from repetition. We should also value repetition for what it does for us. It comforts us but it also shapes so much about us an the world around us.

 

 

That age-old question: is it art?

May 8, 2017 by Rebecca Collins   Comments (0)

I've been thinking more today about my defect art. I have been asking myself what it is about these innocuous little examples of graffiti that I like so much. All I am doing is painting holes and marks. The question I now ask is: why is this art? These replicated holes aren't particularly aesthetic and they don't take long to do. They don't have much in the way of compositional thought or feeling behind them. Nobody is going to seek me out to ask me to paint marks or holes. So what is it all about? 

Another question I have been asking myself is: why do I like painting holes? On one level, I think it is the humour that appeals to me. After all, what sort of person goes around painting holes and marks? They aren't expected and they should catch the eye. But on a deeper level it is the underlying, oft-asked question that these little 'pieces' raise that appeals to me: what is art?

All art, it can be argued, is a form of copying or imitation, whether that be of life, thought or feeling (I'm not going to go into that debate here).

An imitation or representation of an object, a landscape, a face, an emotion, a pattern or a feeling is valid as art. So, how about an imitation of a mark or hole, a blob of paint, an accident or a staple? If there is no such thing as originality and all art is copying. I'm copying and this is art. If I'm going to copy something I may as well copy something nobody would normally consider copying. Why not turn the really band into an interesting 'stilled' life? Why not still the irritating and the mundane?

Putting the copy next to original seems to give the copy some degree of agency. To me, it feels as if the copy is saying: Hey! Look at me! I'm more interesting than that boring old hole next to me because I'm deliberate and I'm a fake.' The copy seems to be defying the urge of destruction. Defects should be filled in, painted over, washed away but would you do the same to a painted defect? By doing so, the artwork will be destroyed. My painted holes and marks of course will definitely be destroyed at some point. I have no doubt about that. They aren't regarded as valid artforms when compared to a painting or a sculpture, or an installation or performance. That is just a fact. I can't dispute that.

So, perhaps the conclusion should be that this isn't art. I would like to think it is but the fact that they will be painted over and without much conscience to me says that they aren't valid, or at least aren’t regarded as valid as other art forms. This does not answer the question: what is art? That question will remain forever unanswered I fear.

While engaged in this project I have come to the realisation that I am not an aesthetic artist. I am not a representational artist. I'm not an abstract artist. I'm a philosopher who uses art as a medium of expression of ideas. 

Philosopher first; artist second. Despite all the self-doubt I have the further I get towards my degree, perhaps there is some purpose to all of this 'playing' I do.

Copying defects - the real vs the unreal

May 4, 2017 by Rebecca Collins   Comments (0)

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I am now marching (or being marched, it feels like) swiftly towards the Degree Show in the Fine Art department here in Wolverhampton. There is just one month to go. The studios are buzzing with ain air of creative stress and frenzied activity. I love this time of year. The results of ten months work are starting to appear and there is a lot to be inspired by.

The theme of my work over the last ten months has been repetition. I have been obsessed with repetition. I have lived and breathed repetition. I have been drawing, painting, making, writing, posting, blogging and obsessing about repetition for months.

There are two main pieces I am hoping to exhibit. One is two plinths covered in drawings, which I will write a separate blog about. The other 'piece' is recreated defects in the exhibition space and elsewhere in the building. I'm hoping that it will be a sort of subtle, mostly unseen, but not wholly unseen, anti-Platonic guerrilla art.

I won't be able to create any of my defect replicas until just before the Degree Show, so I feel strangely relaxed, but I have been practicing today. Since the studios here are in quite a state after nearly a year of artistic activity by me and my fellow students, there are a lot of opportunities for me to leave my mark here.

Here are some examples.

BlueTack

BlueTack

The aim is partly to see if people will spot my artworks while they are looking for 'real' art. Despite the fact that these pieces are, in my eyes, genuine artworks, they aren't expected.

I want to challenge the notion that the copy is inferior to the original (and that the copy has a bond with the original). I have (will) deliberately place the copies next to the originals to see if people are able to dissassociate the former from the latter, which is what I want them to do.

For my research on repetition, I have read a lot of what Gilles Deleuze had to say on the subject. He is well-known for turning the Platonic relationship between the model and the copy on its head by looking just at the copy itself and divorcing it completely from the original. He talks of two types of repetition: mechanical and dynamic. The latter creates originality. He wanted us to value the copy in of itself and to value the process of repetition, not for the copies themselves but the differences between the copies, or the vibrations.

More holes

I want to tease something interesting out of this process of copying. There is something unsettling, or uncanny, about seeing a fake a hole or defect. It doesn't quite look right. It isn't the original, but it resembles the original, yet it has a quality separate from the original. It couldn't possibly be the same as the original. It isn't the same so we don't need to refer to the original. My question is: does the copy here have value in itself? I hope so.

Tiny Holes

Memories, fabric and the drawing compulsion

February 14, 2017 by Rebecca Collins   Comments (0)

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This week, myself and Jackie Sanderson, in our capacity as AA2A student reps, met up with AA2A artist-in-residence Sadie Christian. Sadie is the third of the artists working at Wolverhampton we have met up with thus far, each one being very different in their practice.

Sadie’s background is in textiles. She completed a degree in textiles at Goldsmiths in the late 1980s and has since her time years teaching and working on art projects. She came to Wolverhampton as she has decided that now is a good time to explore in more depth her fascination in the connection between fabric, memory, drawing and image. Sadie is hoping to spend the year working mostly in print, using fabric and drawing as her inspirations.

We found Sadie busy working in the print room. We were able to sit with her and find out about her practice and look at what she had been working on to date. Most of her work so far has been explorative. She showed us her many delicate drawings inspired by various fabrics and garments in her possession, most of which have some sentimental value to her. There is a delicate beauty to her drawings and a sense of memory and history clearly ran through them. There is a repetitive nature to them, yet also a sense of difference and progression. We also saw some of the prints she has been making.

Drawings inspired by fabric

Sadie has been using the facilities at Wolverhampton to the full and exploring her theme in various ways using different drawing and printing methods, textures and colours. She seems to be an artist who loves the research and investigation phase of an art project or theme. She mentioned a few of her ideas which may be based on interesting printing techniques. However, one of the joys of being able to spend time as an artist-in-residence at an institution such as Wolverhampton is that you are given the freedom to venture in any direction that sparks your interest and spend time delving deep into a topic. There is no pre-determined path to follow. Who knows what the end result may be? It doesn’t matter if you find yourself going off on a tangent and sometimes those tangents lead to something new and exciting.

More drawings inspired by fabric

We look forward to seeing what direction Sadie goes in over the next few months.

When science, art and happy accidents collide – a meeting with Samuel Rodgers, AA2A artist-in-residence

January 30, 2017 by Rebecca Collins   Comments (0)

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University of Wolverhampton AA2A artist Samuel Rodgers is a musician and an artist. His practice encompasses performance, composition, installation and phonography.

Jackie Sanderson and I, AA2A student reps at Wolverhampton, went to meet Samuel to find out more about what he’s currently working on while at the university. We met him in his adopted studio: the sound proof fine metalwork room (which has an impressive collection of hammers).

The many hammers in the fine metalwork room

Samuel’s academic background, he explained to us, is in music and performance. However, since graduating from his masters he has become increasingly interested in the materials he uses just as much as the sounds they create. He has recently been exploring the spatial and material aspects of sound and listening. He has also been considering material in relation to light and looking. This is Samuel’s second AA2A residency, his previous being at Dudley College, where he worked with glass. He is now looking at metal.

He explained how he sees a parallel with the way that light responds to the metals he is working with and the way that sound responds. He seems to be very much an artist of the many senses.

Samuel told us about his current project. He is currently looking at parabolic metal forms. His aim is to create sound parabolic metal reflectors to use in an installation or installations towards the end of his residency. He’s been making small bowl-shaped metal forms in the fine metal workshop, which he showed us. However, he is hoping shortly to make larger-scale forms as well. He talked us through how the smaller bowls are crafted and what he’s observed about them in relation to sound and light.

These objects may have a function in his work, but they are beautiful objects in their own right.

One of Samuel's bowls

Samuel told us about how he usually works in collaboration with other artists or musicians. We suggested to him, after noting the link between what he is doing with the metal and mathematical theory, that he might consider branching out into working with people from other academic disciplines.

Looking at what Samuel has been doing seems to confirm the idea that art is no longer an isolated practice. Perhaps it used to be more so. Contemporary art encompasses so many different academic disciplines. In Samuel’s case this may be mathematics and physics, but for other ideas it could be biology, genetics, economics, sociology to name but a few. The role of the artist is not restrictive. There is a huge scope for what an artist can do and explore.

Despite the link between mathematics and what he is doing, Samuel told us that his actual performance work tends to be intuitive rather than composed. There may be an element of science in the crafting, but in the performing it is all ‘happy accidents’. It is impossible to know for sure how the material is going to respond to sound (or light) until the performance happens; there are many factors that can influence the outcome. That is what makes this project so interesting. The process begins by being very controlled and dependent on theory and the performance outcome is currently unknown.

Burnt metal

We very much look forward to seeing the end result!

 

 

 

 

 

Finding Art in the Everyday - The Projected Kitchen

January 14, 2017 by Rebecca Collins   Comments (0)

I am fascinated with objects, things, stuff. I love the stuff that we are surrounded by. I find our relationship to stuff fascinating, whether it be real stuff, solid stuff, ethereal stuff, ancient stuff, virtual stuff or digital stuff.

'The Projected Kitchen' an exhibition of recent work by Rosemary Terry, one of the fine art tutors at Wolverhampton, currently on show at the Wolverhampton Art Gallery, is about our relationship with real stuff. It challenges our perceptions of real stuff. Specifically, it challenges perceptions of ordinary domestic objects through the manipulation of material and size.

Pots

The pieces in the exhibition lie somewhere between dimensions - not quite completely 3D, but also not 2D. The works also sit between media - not quite drawing, but also not quite sculpture. The objects, spoons, pots, cups, pans, are carved out of wood. They loom huge, much larger than their originals, and are placed seemingly randomly around the gallery space either on the walls or on rustic shelves. 

More pots

Walking around the objects I felt a strange sense of my shifting perception. Front on, they seemed significant and solid, side on, they shrank and thinned, losing their sense of importance. I was reminded of scenery on a stage. Front on, they sat majestically about the room, willing me to examine them closely: the texture, the ripples of the wood, and the shadows cast by the sculptural element of the objects. Side on, they looked the other way.

I found the objects quite absorbing and thought-provoking.  

The exhibition runs until 12 Feb.

The Repetition Room - eat, sleep, draw, repeat

January 14, 2017 by Rebecca Collins   Comments (0)

Last week was assessment week for me at Wolverhampton so the culmination of the first semester’s work. For the assessment, I was asked to display a piece / body of work that reflected my current 'thinking and understanding'.

During the last semester I had been researching the concept of repetition. Repetition touches many levels of existence. It can be a comfort and a disturbance; a compulsion and a revulsion. In Western culture, repetition is traditionally condemned as something parasitic and negative. Absolute originality is honoured over imitation. In my research I had been challenging this notion. Repetition may be the act of creating another and another ad infimum, but out of all of the similarity, something new may emerge. Repetition is not a static process, it is a dynamic one.

It isn’t the act of repetition that is important or even the nature of the repetitious events; it is the effects, or vibrations, of the repetitions. The moments between repetitions and the changes that take place are more interesting than the pieces themselves.

My assessment 'piece' was composed of a number of strands which are all interrelated. The 'piece' I called The Repetition Room.

The Repetition Room

The aim of The Repetition Room as a whole was to reflect the disordered, infinite nature of the various repetitious acts I’d been engaged in over the last few weeks. I wanted to see if anything of value could be teased out of the chaos. The question I have been asking with this project is: how can I visually capture the ‘sudden illumination of multiplicity’ (Michael Foucault). Gilles Deleuze states that the aim of the artist is to defeat the chaos by setting up a ‘being of the sensory’. I want to know: is that possible here?

Over the semester, every week I had put posters up around the art building. The point of the posters was to challenge people's assumptions about what constitutes art: can a copy of a pre-existing image and text become art? I also wanted to provoke thought about repetition and show how repetition is omnipresent through following various themes with the posters, such as TV, film and consumerism. Finally, I wanted to be an annoyance through the repetitious nature of the posters. The posters covered a wall and a half of The Repetition Room.

I also created what I called a 'repetition board' which was a piece of wood upon which I drew the same image over and over again during my travels around Wolverhampton and my home town, Shrewsbury. This board came with me everywhere and whenever I stopped, I drew. Immediately after each drawing I transcribed my thoughts during the drawing process. I wanted to ask a number of questions: Would the thoughts be related to the drawing? Would the thoughts be repetitive? What does the act of drawing do to the act of thinking? Do they impact each other? Would I become more conscious of my thoughts as I knew I was going to be writing them down? How much of what I wrote down would be genuine, based on memory, and manipulated?

In the centre of The Repetition Room stands a plinth which is covered with doodles about repetition. I had used this plinth as my sketch pad, to note down all my thoughts and ideas over the semester. I took the plinth home over Christmas and obsessively drew on it over the holiday. It interested me exactly how obsessed I became. It was like my drug.

The walls were also adorned with paintings of the same shape on the repetitious board. Again, these were drawn without reference to the original image (a sheep poo photographed on holiday in Wales), using colours as I found them.

The final element of the room was copies of 'nothing', i.e. holes in the wall. If you can replicate nothing, does nothing exist? Are my copies the positive of the negative? Is there something interesting about the repetition of a void?

In the room, which creates an immersive experience of repetition, I wanted to express the chaos and the rhizomic nature of repetition. The only way I could see to do this, was to saturate the environment with all of my current creative output.

If the aim of art is to find focus in the chaos or rip the fabric of ordinary existence with a ‘genuine encounter’, then I feel that I have been unable to do this so far within this project. I can, at this point, I decided, only reflect the chaos and omnipresence of repetition and hope to convey something of that to the viewer.

There is also a blog for the #FreeRepublicofRepetition: www.freerepublicoforepetition.com.

 

 

This year's topic is...

November 10, 2016 by Rebecca Collins   Comments (0)

This is my second year as a student rep for AA2A (the perks of the part-time life). Last year my obsession was balloons. I collected balloons, I drew balloons, I painted balloons. In fact I lived, breathed and dreamed balloons. I blogged about balloons. I was infamous for a while as the 'lady who collects balloons'. I finally made them in bronze. I loved my balloons.

This year, I've turned my attention to something a little more abstract and a little less tangible than the colourful rubber remains I collected off the streets of Shrewsbury and Wolverhampton: repetition.

I've thought a lot about repetition. I've read a lot about it too. There is a huge amount of repetition in our lives, in all sorts of ways: in literature, poetry, art, routine, life choices and food choices. This turned out to be a vast subject.

I devised the #FreeRepublicofRepetition and spread the word amongst my friends and acquitances on social media.

Lego

I'm not sure where this project is going yet, but I have become quite obsessed already with the concept. Everything is repeating

I have created a website: www.freerepublicofrepetition.com.

If you happen to find yourself on the 7th Floor of the Wolverhampton School of Art you will see some of my posters. Someone is taking them down. I keep putting more up. The ideas keep flowing. They are repeating, like gremlins.

Duchamp Poster

 Repetition. Repetition. Repetition.