Blue Lights and Big Brothers

It feels like another blog post is well overdue, so here are some sneak peaks of current works (and occasionally don't-works).

 The blue lamp is a piece called 'Blue-light Disco'.  I never went to one, but I'm told blue light discos used to be put on by the police for the benefit of under-ages, on the misguided assumption that this would meet their need to have fun without having to sneak out and be naughty.  I feel like most of the society we now live in is a blue light disco.  Cameras everywhere, our movements tracked on the web.  We're constantly barraged with advertising telling us to be self-obsessed and have fun, but we're constantly under surveilence to make sure we're only having state-endorsed fun.  So for this piece, I've made a  mirror-ball head that rotates with the aid of an old microwave motor, so that it can keep an eye on everyone.  You feel safer now?  Me neither, so the other leg (which I forgot to get a photo of) is frozen in the act of escaping.

The illuminated mannequin abs are my gift to my beloved other half Hillary.  I figure if she's got these to look at then I won't have to work at getting abs of my own.  I'm still tinkering with it, but you can dimly see (maybe) that when the piece is illuminated a red heart emerges from within.  I started it on valentines day, and might have it finished in time for next valentines.

 
 Finally, the last piece is reference to contact juggling, in which the performer creates an illusion of stillness in a symmetrical object while moving their hands around it (think David Bowie and his round objects in the Labyrinth - no, the other round objects).  I've always loved juggling and circus, but I can't get into it myself because the sort of people who are into juggling also tend to be fun loving, sociable, happy, fit, spontaneous and full of life and laughter.  So you see the problem.  I haven't finished the wiring on 'Contact' yet, but when I do it'll light up on the top and bottom, which will be a first for me, and has turned out to be even more painful than I expected.

In other news, I've talked my way into the 'Hidden' show at Rookwood cemetery later this year, and the Swell sculpture festival in Queensland.  Busy times ahead.

Cheers,
D.

Obtanium

David, our Artist in Residence if officially settled in and down to business! Over the next few months he will be sharing a little bit of his process and reuse love with us through the blog, and in person.

I love Obtainium.  Obtainium is anything that you can get your hands on cheap or even free, and Sydney's inner west has rich deposits everywhere.  It's a great material for making sculpture because it often suggests ideas that emerge directly from whatever happens to be in front of you.  Shuffle up a new combination of randomly selected parts and find a new idea.

Obtainium takes time to react.  This is my handy excuse for being off to a slow start these last couple of months, but it also happens to be true.  As part of my usual method, I tend to let collections of objects that 'might be useful one day' collect and stew in each others' juices for quite a while.  This habit has done nothing to earn me favor with my flatmates, so I'm very lucky to be the Bower's artist in residence right now.  Until about the middle of this year, I get to be surrounded by the kind of fascinating pile of stuff that I'd collect for myself if only it didn't get me in trouble at home.

I'm currently working on lamps, which are an ongoing obsession of mine.   There's something about lighting up an object that completely re-contextualizes it.  It's so simple it almost feels like cheating.  An ordinary light bulb can take a hatstand, a teapot and a stuffed mackerel and turn it into something that gives it's viewers a license to stare.  A reason to stop and contemplate the sculptural qualities of an unexpected combination.  There's something new in the whole that isn't inherent in any of the parts.  That's what interests me.  The emergent property.  The indefinable extra that I don't feel like I'm creating, but rather finding amongst the bits and pieces.

Of course, there is a element of work and routine to working like this.  Tedious cutting and grinding, gluing things together, and waiting for paint to dry.  During these times, I like to make little pieces to keep myself amused, like the ones pictured above.

I'm in the studio workshop and the Bower Sunday's and Mondays, so come on down and say Hi. 

Cheers,
Dave.