Wednesday 27th January 2010, day four.

The second run of Junto:Mentor draws to an end.

Following warm-ups, some more critical feedback sessions and lunch, all meet for a let’s-not-call-it-evaluation session, to discuss what has been memorable, what has been of benefit, and how some of what has happened can continue on outside of Junto:Mentor.

Here is a selection of their feedback:

“I’ve really enjoyed the sort of group-therapy style!”

“It’s when you’re at Uni, there’s still an element that you’re going to get a mark isn’t there. And when you work professionally, there’s an element where people could judge it either way or you get a review, but there’s something about this setting that isn’t any of those remits. And that’s actually extremely nice because you really truly feel like you’re taking a look into [your work], or into other peoples’ work without there being any other loaded reasons underneath it. That’s actually quite special – I don’t think there are many opportunities for artists to have that kind of crit.”

“I liked that bit when I got to talk about my work a lot, because I don’t think there are a lot of opportunities for that. If you go to a show or something and you might talk about what you do but in a brief way because no one’s going to stand there and let you describe every little detail. So it’s nice to be able to talk about your work and have it discussed without feeling like you’re talking to much.”

“I like how it spilt into the eating time and after sessions going to the pub and more and more…”

“This has been like a little special haven. Things are quite mad outside, like in proper life, but here at least it feels as though one thing is being looked after […] for me, it’s given me something to do to keep going and not lose heart…”

“I loved the warm-ups at the start of each session […] all the eye contact games, it really connects everyone,  they really made everyone feel comfortable to discuss things…”

“I really liked Phillip’s crit, and I just kept telling everyone about your work for the rest of the week..”

“It’s good seeing everyone’s projects and how they develop […] you just feel like there’s a group of people that know what you are doing, and you can keep going ‘ah this week I have done this’…”

“I remember being greeted so warmly by Emma and Chloe who I think I saw first, and Phoebe when I walked in, and I had so many expectations and pre-conceived ideas of what is this to be and how this was going to work, and instantly feeling very relaxed, which was a really lovely thing to enter so thanks very much”

Participants and mentors split into pairs and discussed what they think has happened over the course of Junto:Mentor. They then fed back to the group on behalf of their partner. Here is a selection:

“Joe has had lots of interesting ideas and met lots of people. He is less scared to take himself seriously as an artist now.” – Chloe

“We were talking about the differences for Jieun in the mentoring; this time we had a theme which gave it a focus. We also talked about there wasn’t really a hierarchy, and I think both ways this was nice because as an artist you don’t feel too shy or too inhibited to express anything, and in the same way the mentors are learning from the mentees […] an equal exchange which is somehow more productive” – Janie

“Janie has the confidence to broaden her practice in the way she had hoped […] and now has a good idea about how to combine two disciplines, and with Chloe’s enthusiastic help” – Jieun

“Chloe’s enthusiasm made me feel [my idea is] not so mad” - Janie

“Louisa thought that this one gave her more confidence in leading workshops. And we were talking about the warm-ups and how people loosen up” – Sadie

“Sadie found her crit really useful and through that has been able to identify the main points of what her work is about” –Louisa

“James realised he was feeling quite isolated and it was good to hang out with a group of artists and see that everyone has key concerns and everyone has their own projects as well. He realised he should stop destroying his work, and is questioning how useful it is to see professional shows as a benchmark and realised its actually ok to be just starting out. And he got better knowledge about funding.” – Daniel

“Daniel has got more confidence talking to people, not worrying whether it is right or wrong, just the confidence of saying what he felt. Hanging out made him more enthusiastic about making work, and being able to speak more about what he does” – James

“Red Eggs and Spam really enjoyed the whole process of being able to talk about everything, and through that and all the discussions, managed to get a firmer grasp of their practice as a whole. They would like to do it all again!” – Phillip

“We were talking about your crit, and how you enjoyed it and found it works much better when people ask you questions about his work so you can react to it. And we were disagreeing about the Liz [Lerman Critical Response Process] because I said no to that and he was all up for it. And then we were talking about how to set something up after this and maybe having a session once a month…” – Red Eggs and Spam

“Phoebe found that through watching our critical processes and the mentoring its sort of unearthed questions about her reasons for making her work […] and questions about where she wants to show her work. […]. She’s loved the peer mentoring experience because even though primarily she is facilitating and giving, you learn just as much through that process about your work…and headlines being like motivation for having your finger on the pulse of what you are doing… ” – Maddie

“Maddie said she has become more assertive and confident talking about her work and is not as shy about showing her past work. There are a couple of questions that haven’t been answered such as where she could show her photography[…] but she is definite about where she wants her performance work to go and she feels confident that it can be like marmite – people either love it or hate it, and that’s ok” – Phoebe

“Emma has felt like this group has been a particularly cohesive one, and that has led the mentors in her personal feelings to be more confident about what they do. The cohesiveness has also allowed for a comfortable atmosphere and even though there has been quite a linear structure, it has allowed the content of it to evolve naturally. Sessions have run over time, but that has been a positive thing as it has shown how comfortable everyone has been in each others’ presence.” – Tiffany

“Tiffany really found the crit earlier helpful; she has learned about how that piece can be developed. And she has had crits on the same piece before, but without the same outcome. She enjoyed using the structure and the Liz Lerman technique and the way that it incurred random thoughts and she feels she now has some ammunition take the piece in a new direction.” - Emma

It is not everyday one can have such an encounter with a mother, a daughter and their dog. And that is saying something, coming from a resident of Deptford, South-East London whereby encounters are in plenty fold. The former mentioned however, was within the context of a performance in a gallery space rather than my much frequented high street. Cupboard Love by Eloise Fornieles highlighted this enigma of encounter for me; what was the difference in ‘liveness’ between the performance and the everyday?

As soon as I entered Cupboard Love; a live performance at 176 Gallery as part of Testing Ground: Live at 176, curated by students from The Royal College of Art and Goldsmiths, I felt I had entered the family home of the artist. Sat amongst the hay strewn floor was Eloise with her mother and their enormous dog Angus. I was immediately taken by the domestic set up, of which included a cabinet (permanently resident in the space), laden with cookery utensils and soup making materials. I was generously offered soup and bread, or tea, or both in exchange for “a personal story of help; given or received.” I accepted soup and bread and spoke of a story in my recent past – my cousin pushed me single-handedly to shore in a violent sea, on a surf expedition in France. Within minutes, the three of us were locked in conversation, which led to another rescuing scenario, told by the mother involving a goose and a cruel gaggle of school boys.

It all seemed too easy; conversation flowed without apprehension, and the soup went down very well - despite an incident of over enthusiasm with caraway seeds as mentioned to me by the mother when I initially entered the space. The only thing that kept me alerted to the construction of the scene was a theatrical light to my right, which cast an artificial presence on us all. The transformation and transcendence of time and space however, removed us somewhere other than the gallery, and all those wondering amongst its spaces.

Suddenly becoming conscious of the queue that would be forming outside to enter the ‘Cupboard’ I said my thanks. Just before this however, and still within performance mode, Eloise and myself had struck upon a shared common interest as to why we were both specifically interested in a one-on-one encounter within performance; the intimacy, the subjectivity, the malleability of the ambience within a space, the life exactly that is created in that encounter. We agreed that that is perhaps exactly what makes a work ‘live’; the dialogue, spoken or unspoken, between performer and spectator.

I left feeling certain in the knowledge that without those persons entering Cupboard Love, there would be no life to the performance. But then again, without Cupboard Love there would be no encounter to speak of. And surely, an encounter which has impact continues to live on in oneself independent of the place, time and space it was conceived in. And so this answered my question really; the living encounter can be found everywhere and is indeed a performance in itself.

Tiffany Charrington

www.utrophia.net/people/TiffanyCharrington

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Responding to:

Eloise Fornieles

Cupboard Love (2010)

‘Throughout the weekend, visitors are invited to participate in Cupboard Love on an individual basis. In this newly commissioned work, Fornieles and her mother will be offering tea or soup in return for a story of help once received or needed.’

At

23-24 January 2010
Testing Ground: Live at 176
Saturday 2 - 10 pm
Sunday 2 - 6pm
Performances and events curated by students from Goldsmiths MFA Curating and Royal College of Art MA Curating Contemporary Art (Work Based).

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Find out more about Eloise Fornieles:

http://www.axisweb.org/seCVPG.aspx?ArtistID=11727

I arrived Saturday evening around 6pm.

I can only really comment with specific regard to the rappers I watched who’s improvisational work was really interesting.

I loved it’s unrehearsed nature and felt that for me that was what live art was about – otherwise it becomes a concert or performance…

With regards to the curation  – I wish more thought had been given to how the surrounding aesthetics might influence the piece…

Janie Price

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Responding to:

Rinat Kotler

Cipher (work in progress), 2009-2010

‘The event will consist of a group of freestyle rappers and beatboxers from accross the UK that will freestyle in the gallery for approximately two hours[…]’

At

23-24 January 2010
Testing Ground: Live at 176
Saturday 2 - 10 pm
Sunday 2 - 6pm
Performances and events curated by students from Goldsmiths MFA Curating and Royal College of Art MA Curating Contemporary Art (Work Based).

—————————

Find out more about Rinat Kotler:

http://www.rinatkotler.co.uk/

[coming soon]

The Cigarette Game presents the live construction of a play for radio. It simultaneously explores the act of storytelling and the nature of movement based performance.

On the altar in the main space: a man and woman wearing tshirts and jeans, one man with a guitar and two women behind microphones. A microphone is held over bacon frying, a cigarette is puffed on, a balloon blown up, small bits of paper are torn up into smaller bits, a watermelon is dropped, slap slap slap on the thigh, put high heels on and clomp across wood, a yellow bucket put on a head, sirens played.

I’m excited. I’m well into these abstract incidents, isolated episodes or part of a longer narrative. Smells, sounds, cause and effect, the stemming from actions. The man and woman joining each other to tear paper, separate again. I’m aware I’m not getting it all because I’m too busy trying to record it, drawing bodies and writing actions.

At some point round about now the guitar is played and the people behind microphones begin to read a narrative in the style of a radio play. The actions are repeated and this time the sounds created are privileged over the source actions. These sounds form the aural basis of the radio play, becoming merely sound effects, these previously absurdly abstract actions are contextualised into an everyday scene, a yellow bucket on a head provides the muffled utterances of someone on the other side of a door.

It’s really smart when you first realise what’s happening and can enjoy the penny dropping together. But for me the joy of absurdity vanishes. Potential is lost and as Tiffany says, when the watermelon is finally released it is “an anticlimax”. Is this a work that falls foul to the temptation to ‘explain away’ work through fear of the audience not getting it?!

I think so, but I still really like it! Best in show!

Chloe Cooper

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Responding to:

Lucy Beech and Edward Thomasson

The Cigarette Game, 2010

At

23-24 January 2010
Testing Ground: Live at 176
Saturday 2 - 10 pm
Sunday 2 - 6pm
Performances and events curated by students from Goldsmiths MFA Curating and Royal College of Art MA Curating Contemporary Art (Work Based).

—————————-

Find out more about Lucy Beech and Edward Thomasson:

http://thomassonbeech.wordpress.com/

The piece was described in the leaflet with brevity; a single sentence invited you to ‘join the artist in her photography studio and embark on a journey of self discovery’. My first thought was of horror. Is this going to be about having to show bits of myself? Is there going to be nakedness?! I reasoned that this was unlikely – extreme even for live art to ask the audience to reveal parts of their own bodies. However, the piece was in some ways perhaps not too distant an experience from this. Vulnerability in another form, the voyeuristic eye of the camera probing in attempt to find some kind of ‘truth’, or reveal the social means with which we hide ourselves.

I signed up with Chloe. Although a one-to-one performance, we were informed that it was permitted to go in as two and, having seen everything else together, we continued the trend. Upon entering we were greeted by (I assume) the artist, holding a photographic camera, who told us to make ourselves at home (to which Chloe laughed – how do you make your self at home in a photographer’s studio!).

‘Now can we have a few minutes with no talking’.

No talking. Great! This was good news for me. I have a slight and compulsive dread of talking in proximity to any kind of camera - possibly a hangover from my shy teenage days of train-track teeth. Or just shyness. Ok, so no talking. What next?  We stood on and in front of a white backdrop, which took up most of the room. The photographer looks on with a blank expression and promptly starts taking photos. Of us. Of our reaction. Of our being caught in the flashlights. Of our confusion about what to do.

Chloe’s reaction to the experience was strong, and negative. She started miming – a way to test the rule we had been instructed to follow. Chloe wrote me a note briefly expressing her angst (although still remaining silent), and then left the room, leaving me alone with the photographer and her camera.

Well this is strange.

Something in me started to enjoy this unusual experience. Photograph after photograph. So much attention! I felt I was an Andy Warhol subject, or a muse.

I soon got tired however of the lack of engagement with the other person in the room; the artist.  It’s all one way! It would be good to ask her why she is doing this. ‘I can’t talk’, felt like ‘I can’t communicate’. I began to mimic her posture and her small movements leaning against the wall. She rubbed her left hand, so I rubbed my left hand. She stuck her tongue out, so I stuck out mine. I performed for her. I allowed her to take my image.

Recently I have been thinking a lot about the photograph in relation to the live performance, and about the potential of collapsing the two into a single event. In The”O” Project, not every moment is photographed. Iulia Filipovscaia is editing the photographic record of the piece as it progresses. Perhaps it doesn’t matter. She has set up a situation that relies mostly on the participants to create or just become the subject matter. And this editing is her main involvement as the situation unfolds.  It’s an unusual amount of pressure on an audience, albeit now an audience of one. There is seemingly no content other then the reaction of the unwitting participant. This is a performance stripped bare, yet heavy with intent and knowing-ness. Yet, the artist is in control - because of their knowledge of what the piece entails, the frequency of photo-taking, and because of the request for no talking.

There is a power over the audience that becomes apparent during the experience; do you play game and do something interesting? Or is refusing to play still part of the game?  Staying means giving permission. But leaving is just another reaction. What does the artist want?  In not knowing and not asking, the audience is unremittingly complicit - they cannot but react.

In some ways The “O” Project reveals photography’s inevitable impact and intervention on what or who is being photographed.  The presence of a camera changes a situation; it forces a desire to either escape the camera’s gaze, or ‘perform’ for it.

But more importantly then that, by politely agreeing to silence, the participant maintains the situation set up by the artist. The same silence which highlights the unpleasant vulnerability of being photographed by a stranger in an unfamiliar situation.

There is something about this perceived need to comply with the artist’s requirements despite discomfort, that reveals political aspects of performances that depend on the audience’s participation. This is about the power of instruction when the artist is present, about participation and complicity, and the implications of being kept in the dark about the true meaning of your involvement.

Afterward, I chat to a Goldsmiths MFA Curating student. She informs me that a previous version of this performance involved a second stage in which the participant is asked to wear a blindfold. I wonder how I would react to that, and feel grateful for not having been asked to find out.

Louisa Martin

www.louisamartin.info

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Responding to:

Iulia Filipovscaia

The “O” Project (2007-2010), performance

At

23-24 January 2010
Testing Ground: Live at 176
Saturday 2 - 10 pm
Sunday 2 - 6pm
Performances and events curated by students from Goldsmiths MFA Curating and Royal College of Art MA Curating Contemporary Art (Work Based).

————————————-

Find out more about Iulia Filipovscaia:

www.ifilipovscaia.co.uk