Landscape, Seascape, Skyscape, Escape
(Project Outline)
Landscape, Seascape, Skyscape, Escape
My first ever piece marketing material. - 'Cool Tan Arts', Brixton 1994. Its a bit grubby but it sadly managed to visually compliment everything else. The live music was a bit of an exaggeration as well. I played one song- 'Tequila' by the 'Champs' on car horns. (not sure why they chose an image of a chicken either)
My first show and how it came about.
The bulk of the subject matter for this show was a series of vehicles I made when I was an art student in Hull in the late 80’s/early 90's. The vehicles were made on the premise I would use them to escape from Art College. Starting with a boat made from driftwood found in the river Humber I then made a large pedal car followed by a hovercraft from plastic bottles I also found washed up on the estuary beach. After graduating and leaving college I made a tank from John Constable landscape prints and Suffolk Punch lawnmowers that I bought at car boot sales. Finally I started building an aeroplane on my postgraduate course from tea chests and newspaper. All these pieces have been displayed in galleries but in this show they exist soleley as 35 millimetre photographic slides. Each vehicle at some point also made a journey which was documented with fragile Super 8 film. With the first three vehicles this journey was literally me trying to get away from art college. The chance encounters and happenings on these outings make up the script. I also talk about 'why' I did what I did. The 'why' is a lot to do with how contemporary art education worked.
When I have to explain to the uninitiated what art college is like and why it's not always about making pretty pictures, I often describe it as doing ‘visual philosophy’. When I was a student we didn't copy other artists, instead we were encouraged to think for ourselves and find our own unique path by questioning everything. This makes art a very subjective pursuit. Theoretically 'anything can be art', whether it's any good or not comes down to personal feelings or taste. In art college you're often faced with art that deliberately shows little or no craft. With no visual evidence of time invested in the work your natural instinct is to doubt the integrity of the artist and suspect they're taking the piss. In this sort of situation the importance of subjectivity is amplified as 'personal feelings and taste' and the student’s intent is all you have to go on. The art student's ‘personal feelings’ can be integral to the work and therefore subject to scrutiny. Like all students I was often challenged over my intent, sometimes to the point of self doubt. Teaching art can be a 'cruel to be kind' process that leads to a lot of important soul searching. At times making art at college felt like a process I had to go through to prove and validate what I really felt- And in all honesty what I really felt was homesick and depressed with art college. Hence I made art to escape in. Luckily Hull was a very progressive college and my tutors there allowed me to pursue this paradoxical approach...just so long as I documented everything.
The films are short, fleeting glimpses of the precarious moments when these temperamental vehicles actually worked. In this way there is a synergy between subject matter and medium as the films and projectors were also precarious and would often break. This was just before real film became retro and painfully trendy. I wasn't trying to be cool; it was just the only way I knew how to work at the time. Super 8 film cameras, far from being collector’s items, were obsolete and therefore cheap. By contrast video cameras needed to be booked out from the college store, were cumbersome and complicated to use in those days. A small Super 8 camera could always be close at hand- a bit like a mobile phone camera is today. The finished processed films, although totally impractical in their fragility, accidentally add an extra level of authenticity to the event. Everything seems to be in soft focus, vulnerable and precious. These films are screened periodically throughout the show.
The bulk of the subject matter for this show was a series of vehicles I made when I was an art student in Hull in the late 80’s/early 90's. The vehicles were made on the premise I would use them to escape from Art College. Starting with a boat made from driftwood found in the river Humber I then made a large pedal car followed by a hovercraft from plastic bottles I also found washed up on the estuary beach. After graduating and leaving college I made a tank from John Constable landscape prints and Suffolk Punch lawnmowers that I bought at car boot sales. Finally I started building an aeroplane on my postgraduate course from tea chests and newspaper. All these pieces have been displayed in galleries but in this show they exist soleley as 35 millimetre photographic slides. Each vehicle at some point also made a journey which was documented with fragile Super 8 film. With the first three vehicles this journey was literally me trying to get away from art college. The chance encounters and happenings on these outings make up the script. I also talk about 'why' I did what I did. The 'why' is a lot to do with how contemporary art education worked.
When I have to explain to the uninitiated what art college is like and why it's not always about making pretty pictures, I often describe it as doing ‘visual philosophy’. When I was a student we didn't copy other artists, instead we were encouraged to think for ourselves and find our own unique path by questioning everything. This makes art a very subjective pursuit. Theoretically 'anything can be art', whether it's any good or not comes down to personal feelings or taste. In art college you're often faced with art that deliberately shows little or no craft. With no visual evidence of time invested in the work your natural instinct is to doubt the integrity of the artist and suspect they're taking the piss. In this sort of situation the importance of subjectivity is amplified as 'personal feelings and taste' and the student’s intent is all you have to go on. The art student's ‘personal feelings’ can be integral to the work and therefore subject to scrutiny. Like all students I was often challenged over my intent, sometimes to the point of self doubt. Teaching art can be a 'cruel to be kind' process that leads to a lot of important soul searching. At times making art at college felt like a process I had to go through to prove and validate what I really felt- And in all honesty what I really felt was homesick and depressed with art college. Hence I made art to escape in. Luckily Hull was a very progressive college and my tutors there allowed me to pursue this paradoxical approach...just so long as I documented everything.
The films are short, fleeting glimpses of the precarious moments when these temperamental vehicles actually worked. In this way there is a synergy between subject matter and medium as the films and projectors were also precarious and would often break. This was just before real film became retro and painfully trendy. I wasn't trying to be cool; it was just the only way I knew how to work at the time. Super 8 film cameras, far from being collector’s items, were obsolete and therefore cheap. By contrast video cameras needed to be booked out from the college store, were cumbersome and complicated to use in those days. A small Super 8 camera could always be close at hand- a bit like a mobile phone camera is today. The finished processed films, although totally impractical in their fragility, accidentally add an extra level of authenticity to the event. Everything seems to be in soft focus, vulnerable and precious. These films are screened periodically throughout the show.
Landscape Escape No. 2- A tank made from John Constable landscape reproductions bought at car boots sales.
Arguably the first time I did this show was in the shared bathroom of my student house in Hull. The house was divided awkwardly into bedsits and the bathroom was peculiarly one of the largest rooms in the house. It was big enough to get a sofa in and a small audience made up of my friends and anyone else we could drag back from the pub. It was a regular occurrence and I had to hone my story telling skills to fill in any gaps in the narrative that weren’t documented by the films or slides.
The first 'public' airing of the films was 1994. My friends had moved to London and had made an exhibition called 'False Exits' in a very unorthodox venue called Cool Tan Arts. It was a squat in Brixton which had a gallery. The gallery was mainly used for staging hard core techno raves so the art felt like a bit of a side line and I suspect it was there mainly to ensure their funding as an arts venue not a night club. As part of the deal my friends had cut with the venue they had to put on something called a ‘cafe night’. This meant making vegetarian food to sell and also providing some form of entertainment with the proceeds going to the squat. I was asked to be the entertainment! I panicked at the idea of being in front of a proper audience but was reassured when my friends told me – ‘Don’t worry, hardly anyone ever turns up to cafe night it will just be us and we would like to see your films again Chris.’ As it turned out, that night’s rave was cancelled and the room filled up with people who had nothing else to do but listen to me and watch my Super 8 films. I was nervous but tried to 'fill in' as best I could between films. Each one was 4 minutes long and had to be individually loaded onto the projector. I also had to simultaneously choose a suitable sound track for each film from a selection of records. It was shear fate that my chaotic delivery complimented the shoddy equipment and subject matter.
The first 'public' airing of the films was 1994. My friends had moved to London and had made an exhibition called 'False Exits' in a very unorthodox venue called Cool Tan Arts. It was a squat in Brixton which had a gallery. The gallery was mainly used for staging hard core techno raves so the art felt like a bit of a side line and I suspect it was there mainly to ensure their funding as an arts venue not a night club. As part of the deal my friends had cut with the venue they had to put on something called a ‘cafe night’. This meant making vegetarian food to sell and also providing some form of entertainment with the proceeds going to the squat. I was asked to be the entertainment! I panicked at the idea of being in front of a proper audience but was reassured when my friends told me – ‘Don’t worry, hardly anyone ever turns up to cafe night it will just be us and we would like to see your films again Chris.’ As it turned out, that night’s rave was cancelled and the room filled up with people who had nothing else to do but listen to me and watch my Super 8 films. I was nervous but tried to 'fill in' as best I could between films. Each one was 4 minutes long and had to be individually loaded onto the projector. I also had to simultaneously choose a suitable sound track for each film from a selection of records. It was shear fate that my chaotic delivery complimented the shoddy equipment and subject matter.
'Skysacpe Escape', the aeroplane made from tea chests and newspaper.
For the next ten years or so I was invited into art colleges to give presentations as a visiting lecturer about my work. As a lot of the things I addressed were to do with the context of art college itself many students found a lot in it to empathise with. A couple of art college's, 'Maidstone' and 'Leeds Beckett', informally made my presentation part of their curriculum. So for a period I would arrive every year to do my talk.
In my lecture I would expand upon the humorous aspects of where my 'questioning of everything' had taken me. In this instance, ironically, back into art colleges to give a presentation about the work I had made to escape from art college! I also finished each lecture by playing the tune 'Tequila' by the 'Champs' on a machine I made full of car horns and flashing lights. Despite being an academic lecture theatre, I found myself on the edge of becoming an entertainer.
Encouraged by my colleagues at 'Leeds Beckett University', I began to take this one step further and put my art college slide talk on the stage. After a couple of shows in my local 'Colchester Arts Centre' and 'Wolsey studio Theatre', Ipswich, I was launched into 'showbiz' at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in 2006. I gave my two hour art lecture every night for the three weeks to small audiences on the bottom deck of a double decker bus. It was parked just behind the big top circus venue for the 'Lady Boys of Bangkok'. I shared my venue with six other shows. Over the three weeks my audiences slowly got bigger. Though going from 5 to 15 doesn't sound much, in the competitive climate of Edinburgh, my show was arguably a success. Towards the end of my run I even had a recommendation from the Guardian newspaper. From out of about 1500 shows, I was a 'Pick of the Day'.
In my lecture I would expand upon the humorous aspects of where my 'questioning of everything' had taken me. In this instance, ironically, back into art colleges to give a presentation about the work I had made to escape from art college! I also finished each lecture by playing the tune 'Tequila' by the 'Champs' on a machine I made full of car horns and flashing lights. Despite being an academic lecture theatre, I found myself on the edge of becoming an entertainer.
Encouraged by my colleagues at 'Leeds Beckett University', I began to take this one step further and put my art college slide talk on the stage. After a couple of shows in my local 'Colchester Arts Centre' and 'Wolsey studio Theatre', Ipswich, I was launched into 'showbiz' at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in 2006. I gave my two hour art lecture every night for the three weeks to small audiences on the bottom deck of a double decker bus. It was parked just behind the big top circus venue for the 'Lady Boys of Bangkok'. I shared my venue with six other shows. Over the three weeks my audiences slowly got bigger. Though going from 5 to 15 doesn't sound much, in the competitive climate of Edinburgh, my show was arguably a success. Towards the end of my run I even had a recommendation from the Guardian newspaper. From out of about 1500 shows, I was a 'Pick of the Day'.
Playing 'Tequila' by the 'Champs' on car horns. (Leeds Beckett University).
photo Marion Harrison
After Edinburgh I had a small tour around the country but surprisingly my most regular gigs were with a theatre company called 'Menagerie' who used my story as a 'case study' for their sideline in corporate training under the workshop title of 'reevaluating success'. A title that somehow translates in my head as 'coming to terms with failing'. Like a bullying older brother using a mixture of deception and attrition, my colleague from Menagarie, Paul Bourne pushed me into ever more surreal circumstances talking to anyone from members of the U.S. military to Russian pharmaceutical retail managers on a corporate trip to Istanbul. These weird experiences even gave me material for my later shows. I was even invited to write the preface for a book on innovation called 'Odd Coupling' by C. Loughlan.
The last time the show was performed in public was 2011 at 'Flip Shift Show Switch' 'Stedafreund Gallery', Berlin. Realisticaly it was a bit too much to expect people to sit through the full 2 hours in their second language. It was also performed at 'Hatch festival' Leicester the year before. To the displeasure of the organisers it seriously over ran the time slot given. I think there's a lot more mileage in the show but ultimately it is impossible to market. However you put it, it's difficult to sell a show that consists of one man pointing at pictures with a stick whilst talking about himself for two hours. Often the response I got from people after the show was one of 'surprise' that they liked it. The show included an interval but even in 2006 it was right on the limit of people’s attention span. At the time of writing this in 2022 I think the average attention span has shrunk to an hour maximum. It also took a lot of stamina to perform, stamina I obviously won't have forever. It’s even been a long time since I’ve given the lecture in an art college as today I tend to give a shorter presentation called ‘How not to make a living as an artist’ which is under an hour.
All the stories in the show and more are written in the book called, 'Escape'.
The last time the show was performed in public was 2011 at 'Flip Shift Show Switch' 'Stedafreund Gallery', Berlin. Realisticaly it was a bit too much to expect people to sit through the full 2 hours in their second language. It was also performed at 'Hatch festival' Leicester the year before. To the displeasure of the organisers it seriously over ran the time slot given. I think there's a lot more mileage in the show but ultimately it is impossible to market. However you put it, it's difficult to sell a show that consists of one man pointing at pictures with a stick whilst talking about himself for two hours. Often the response I got from people after the show was one of 'surprise' that they liked it. The show included an interval but even in 2006 it was right on the limit of people’s attention span. At the time of writing this in 2022 I think the average attention span has shrunk to an hour maximum. It also took a lot of stamina to perform, stamina I obviously won't have forever. It’s even been a long time since I’ve given the lecture in an art college as today I tend to give a shorter presentation called ‘How not to make a living as an artist’ which is under an hour.
All the stories in the show and more are written in the book called, 'Escape'.