The more I develop my practice, the more I realise that it does not intentionally comment on the wider world (although others may interpret it differently), it is purely about the relationship between me, the artist, and the materials, exploring and exploiting them, of the hand of the maker being present in the work and of visualising feeling through the materials themselves and not what they represent. Recently, whilst continuing to work on a series of concretes cubes combined with the found object I questioned the purpose and whether or not it could be classed as art – was I just pouring concrete in a cube and waiting for it to set – was this construction rather than art? After much reflection I came to the following conclusions.
Art is about intent, the realisation of an idea, that whilst perfectly formed in our mind, does not always translate so easily into reality. In order to make my cubes of concrete I had to plan – all sculptors plan, their sketchbooks are often simply ‘to do lists’; measurements; and shopping lists for materials. I had to make cubic moulds of various sizes, coat them with sticky back plastic so that the cement could be released when dry.
I then chose the materials to mix with the cement – some organic, some non-organic, although ultimately everything is made up of particles that eventually return to nothing. Initially the materials I used were as a result of lockdown – in a world where we couldn’t go to the shops, we had goods delivered and it was the packaging from these that formed my first ideas – bubble wrap, various types of cardboard, paper and even sheep’s wool used to insulate food boxes. I used what I had to hand, made the cube moulds added the concrete and the materials and then I had to wait for about 4 days for the concrete to fully set before I revealed the results. It’s similar to analogue photography – you don’t know what you’re going to get until the film gets developed – it’s a matter of trial and error, of waiting and seeing, of time. These initial blocks ranged in size, but were no bigger than 12cm 3, which meant that as individual pieces of work, they were quite small and perhaps, as with much of my work, it is the number of them that will create impact – either stacked or strewn across a gallery floor, or a mixture of both.
Once these cubes were complete, the idea developed. My work has always had an element of wabi sabi at its heart – of finding beauty in the unexpected and embracing the natural cycle of life as the inevitable process of decay and deterioration takes hold. With this in mind, I often accelerate the process of decay in materials and in this case I wanted to embrace the process of rusting in my blocks. I was introduced to metal filings by my university technician when I was initially looking at how I reinforce my concrete in order to stitch it together (an idea I will continue to explore), however, he warned me that they would rust. Brilliant! With this in mind I was going to use the metal filings in the concrete blocks and leave them outside to rust. I started with a 12cm cube and mixed in the filings – they got lost within the concrete and whilst some of the tips rusted, it was not the desired outcome.
With an upcoming Group Exhibition, I did not want my small cubes to be placed on ‘plinths’ in a decorative manner in order to give them a sense of presence. The materiality of my work is at the forefront and I didn’t want it to be dominated by a plinth – the natural solution was to make bigger cubes and stack them – the integrity of the material remaining true to itself in the entirety of the work. I made a 30cm3 mould. This time I pre-rusted the metal filings in a tub of vinegar before using and rather than mixing the filings in with the concrete, I scattered them into the mould as I poured. I used the rust stained liquid to mix the cement. Unfortunately, I didn’t mix enough concrete and ended up having to pour twice – once with rust stained cement and once without – I was worried about a potential difference in colour and consistency, but would not know until the cube was revealed days later.
Once revealed, I was delighted, in part, by the block – the filings had rusted beautifully and were exposed and the double pour of concrete hadn’t created a two tone block, but had created variegation in the concrete similar to that found in columns along the River Thames, weathered by the rising and the falling of the tide and the rusty filings reminiscent of the rusting disused piers and docks. Inspired, yet unintentional. The next block I make will build on the learning from this one: I will pre-rust the filings; I will intentionally create more than one pour; and I will distribute the filings so that more are exposed. I intend to make 3 blocks in total, stacked.
Next on my ‘to do’ list is to work out how to transport the really heavy blocks (30kg) to university for documenting the exhibition without damaging them. Due to Covid, the exhibition will be online, but for cohesiveness the group are all photographing and filming their work in the same space. I have ordered some straps for lifting and a ‘dolly trolley cart’ for transporting.
In creating my concrete blocks I have planned, experimented, reviewed and adapted the work at every step of the way in order to realise my intent, my vision. This is what makes this work art and not construction.