I've been thinking about the way we describe the relationship between our species and the rest of the world. I'm someone who sees humans as just another animal on this planet. The pandemic we are within is an accident of microbes mutating and we have to deal with it in the same way we deal with the ocean tides or earthquakes. The microbes will just keep mutating.
I love being on mountains and the beach. One of my closest friends is a dog. Sometimes I feel a transcedence from the wind on my face or the scent of wet woodland. But I've felt uneasy about describing that reaction as 'appreciating nature'. I am uncomfortable about language that reinforces that we are somehow separate from 'nature', that we are 'custodians' of the planet or that we were gifted the world for our sustenance. I have always thought about humans as an equal part of 'nature' and now realised that, if that is true, we don't need the word at all. It has a confused meaning in any case - is it the opposite of 'urban', how does it relate to 'environment', exactly when does something stop being 'natural'.
So, that's what I've been thinking and one day I'd like to take it into a performance. I miss that excitement and being fed by other peoples intelligence, imagination, instincts and imagination. I suspect that the crisis brought on by the pandemic will create new kinds of relationships between audience and artist and that would be a positive legacy.
My chair was made from Amazon delivery boxes, guilt and a glue gun. It won't last long before it's demolished by the ivy.
I love being on mountains and the beach. One of my closest friends is a dog. Sometimes I feel a transcedence from the wind on my face or the scent of wet woodland. But I've felt uneasy about describing that reaction as 'appreciating nature'. I am uncomfortable about language that reinforces that we are somehow separate from 'nature', that we are 'custodians' of the planet or that we were gifted the world for our sustenance. I have always thought about humans as an equal part of 'nature' and now realised that, if that is true, we don't need the word at all. It has a confused meaning in any case - is it the opposite of 'urban', how does it relate to 'environment', exactly when does something stop being 'natural'.
So, that's what I've been thinking and one day I'd like to take it into a performance. I miss that excitement and being fed by other peoples intelligence, imagination, instincts and imagination. I suspect that the crisis brought on by the pandemic will create new kinds of relationships between audience and artist and that would be a positive legacy.
My chair was made from Amazon delivery boxes, guilt and a glue gun. It won't last long before it's demolished by the ivy.
This chair belonged to my friend Anna Krzystek who was a phenomenal artist. We collaborated on photographs to accompany or become part of her performance. Chairs were often present in her work and were a definite part of the piece we were working on. Every photograph was a strict collaboration between us and this picture was taken in the middle of lots of discussions about the power of minimalism and the beauty of John Cage. It was never used during any of Anna's work but we were both fond of it. If Anna was still with us I'm not sure how she would have reacted to the pandemic, but I am certain she would have baked an awful lot of cakes during lockdown.
