Summer 2007 - In the wake of Copenhagen

(1)These drawings followed in the wake of Copenhagen. Making prints there, between 21-28 June, required endurance and concentration, in the extreme.

This I transported to Connecticut. In my summer studio, positioned upon a square rubber mat (an idea also ‘lifted’ from Copenhagen), I picked up where I had left of. And I kept in mind, too, the way I had integrated into my work on the copperplate exactly what I’d observed in the proofing: on paper, I continued to square up my body, and my sheet on the table; to keep consistent pressure on my graphite; and to roll through my sheet as smoothly as possible.(2) 

So smooth had I become that the excellent alignment of these newest forms surprised me. Comparing them to my earlier ‘figures’ on view at the Tang Museum, (3) so charming with their exaggerated lean, I wondered at this difference of stance.

I soon recognised it to be – quite directly – a marking out of my change of stance: in Autumn 2005, in order to take my longer lines more gracefully through my sheet, I had opened up my posture at the table.(4) Since then, I stand with my right leg striding forward, and the left leg poised behind. Always upright and alert, I move more freely through the sheet, while drawing out these ever-straighter forms.

NOTE: There will, however, always be a lean to my figures. Guided only by natural forces, they cannot but follow “the path taken by the soul of [this] dancer.”(5)

(1) Between 21 and 28 June, 2007, I made 32 new dry-points in Copenhagen with Niels Borck-Jenser. The title of the suite is SLOW LEARNER and it is published by Jean-Yves Noblet Contemporary Prints, New York.

(2) See SLOW LEARNER, my text on this project.

(3) From 18 May to 12 August, my work featured in ‘Alumni Invitational 2’, Tang Museum, Skidmore College, Saratoga Springs, NY. This selection of drawings included work made between 1993 and 2005.

(4) See studio jotting, ‘The New York Tour, Autumn 2005’.

(5) Heinrich von Kleist, ‘On the Marionette Theatre’ (1810), translated by Idris Parry, in Essays on Dolls (London: Syrens, 1994). Also see Linda Karshan and Marilyn McCully in McCully, Measure Without Measure, pp. 55–59

The New York Tour - Autumn 2005

I arrived in N.Y. like a dancer on tour with my body, my mind, and choreography in-scribed. (1) But the ‘theatre’ was new, as was the stage to be ‘set,’ and so certain adjustments were made. Standing upright and alert at my new table, or stage, I quickly adjusted my stance: “Every movement in the studio must be [graceful].”(2) And “all true grace is economical”.(3)

My movements had become less than graceful – even cramped – as my short upper-torso was not long enough to see my now longer lines through in one arc.(4) So I resumed a stance first taken in July 2004 when, also presented with a new table/ stage, I secured my position by placing one foot behind the other, gaining extension and spring in my moves. (5)

Now my ‘swing’ has become more like rock’n’roll: I begin by rocking backwards, then forwards, or downwards, then upwards, through the first two repetitions of the line. Repetitions three and four are yet more dynamic as I roll right through the centre of my line.

That first line is performed ‘on the flat,’ as it were: both flat-footed, but also flat-leaded as I hold my pencil sideways, thus producing a flatish, widish mark. Then, rising onto my toes, ‘en pointe’ over the work, I also lift my pencil point to a loftier position on the sheet. Thus poised and concentrated, I proceed to bisect that first line. Just as Apelles claimed to do.(6) “There are so few [movements], but so many variations.” (7) The variety is assured by the subtle shifts in choreography, according to my intuitive sense. Judgement follows, measured always with those compasses in the eyes: that I may receive what I have brought forth, and “so bring forth as [my] intuitive sense aspires to receive”.

1. My choreography is not only written, or in-scribed: it is also sounded, or scored into my being. This is what I listen to, and what I mark out “exactly as it is scored” (John Cage, advising Christian Wolf; see studio jottings, ‘Selected Jottings, Autumn 2004’, 6/11/04).

2. Bruce Nauman: “Every movement in the studio must be artistic.” Mapping the Studio, Tate Modern, 2004.

3. Samuel Beckett. See studio jotting, ‘Selected Jottings, Autumn 2004’ (25/11/04).

4. See my description in the studio jotting ‘Summer 2005: The ORLO, Natural Forces, and Giving Up the Notion of Convergence’. Photographs also bear this out.

5. See studio jotting, ‘Flashing Conviction, Summer 2004’ (20/07/04).

6. According to ancient lore, the Roman artist Apelles proved his superiority over his rivals by his ability to bisect their lines. Thus he’d leave a mark of his presence: “Tell them Apelles was here”.

7. See studio jotting, ‘Flashing Conviction, Summer 2004’ (21/07/04).

The ORLO, Natural Forces, and Giving Up the Notion of Convergence - Summer 2005

‘Kicking off’ with the ORLO – that extreme limit, or outline, of my pattern / figure / form, the subject of this summer’s work has shifted between the ORLO to the GRID and back again. According to my intuitive sense.

But the ORLO has been the most dominant form, showing – if not proving – that length, width, and quality of line are enough to describe the entire body. (1) So long as the ORLO be precise. Natural forces have returned, thanks to a change in posture, necessitated by the expansion of the form. (2) In consequence, my more plastic, rhythmic lines refused to converge: drawing line upon trace, as had been my custom, now required too much will. (The trace leaned in one direction, while the line wanted, naturally, to lean in the other). So by giving up the notion of convergence, and letting each line fall as it would, the drawings recovered their former ‘swing’. They could ‘flash conviction’(3) on the viewer, of their human experience. According to her intuitive sense.(4)

1. Leon Battista Alberti. See studio jottings, ‘Selected Jottings and Reflections, January– June 2005’ (23/03/05).

2. Now bent at the waist, reaching out and over my trace in order to pick up the topmost point of my trace. By simply swinging up and back to my standing posture, the drawn line flowed naturally, in line with the forces of gravity.

3. George Eliot. See studio jotting, ‘Summer Jottings: Flashing Conviction, July–August 2004’.

4. Many thanks to Tommy Karshan, for alerting me to Schiller’s definition of the play drive: “[…] will endeavour so as to receive as if it had brought forth, and so bring forth as the intuitive sense aspires to receive”. See Schiller’s Letters Upon the Aesthetic Education of Man. Or, in the words of Plotinus, Ennead IV 6.2–3: “The mind affirms something not contained within impression: this is the characteristic of a power – within its allotted sphere to act”. Or, as David Wiggins puts it, quoting Plotinus: “The mind gives radiance to the objects of sense out of its own store”. A jotting that I wrote on 1 August 2005 also helps to illustrate what I mean: “I am bent at the waist, over the page, arm (with graphite) extended to the top of the [trace]. Lifting now from the waist, the line is drawn over and through the sheet in a smooth movement… guided always by natural forces. (So that the viewer, too, might straighten up in response to the good work).”

Selected Jottings - Autumn 2004 (re-arranged and annotated January 2005)

Do start. By the Sound of It:

1–2–3–4–5–6–7–8–

1–2–3–4–5–6–7–8–

LISTEN. Just Listen. “Listening to the sound is a sculptural act. The ear… is the genuine sense of sculpture.” Matthias Bärmann, quoting Joseph Beuys.

5/10/04 - Yesterday’s drawings, the ‘Casa Buonarroti Series,’ are ‘sculpted,’ and muscular (1). They ‘reach out,’ and feel as if they were drawn with a chisel. 

Vasari tells us that Michelangelo used his chisel like a pencil; I feel I use my pencil like a chisel. And like him, I ‘chisel’ every day (2). Daily practice.

We also learn that while he said he worked with his hands, he said the real artist must judge with “the compasses in the eyes” (3). This judgement is innate, a “measure without measure”(4). We might even straighten up, or sway in response to the good work (5). 

In this way, we can edit, and make a SELECTION FROM A DAY.

27/10/04 - Foot-tapping. Always foot-tapping. And marching ‘round the studio’:

1–2–3–4–5–6–7–8–

1–2–3–4–5–6–7–8–

‘Round’ the studio, but in the shape of a square, or quad:

1–2–3–4–5–6–7–8 turn

1–2–3–4–5–6–7–8 turn

“I think I occupy the centre, but nothing is less certain… but the best is to think of myself as fixed at the centre of the place, whatever the shape and extent may be.” Samuel Beckett, The Unnamable

While my ‘assigned figure’ remains constant – my movement, in time – the SHAPE and EXTENT of my trajectory will change. That’s how the work DEVELOPS (WHILE FUNDAMENTALLY STAYING THE SAME). 

25/11/04 - Tot Taylor calls my movement round the studio the ‘Fred Astaire Walk’. He says it is graceful, like Astaire’s.

Perhaps it is the timing, and my posture, my line:

1–2–3–4–5–6–7–8–

1–2–3–4–5–6–7–8–

This ‘timing’ is also recorded on 20/10/04, 25/10/04, 29/10/04, 3/11/04, 22/11/04, 25/11/04, 29/11/04, 30/11/04, and 7/12/04.

DAILY PRACTICE and REPETITION: “The rhythms keep on coming. They just do” (Merce Cunningham)

27/11/04 - And circling around the centre: “I am as the centre of the circle, to which all parts of the circumference stand in equal relation; you, however, are not so.” (Dante, Vita Nuova, XII, 21–23)

Thus love, in the form of an angel, speaks to the poet, and gives himself a mystic definition.

Compare it to Beckett’s ‘rendition’ on the poet, and his position on the centre:

“I think that I occupy the centre, but nothing is less certain. In a sense I would be better of at the circumference, since my eyes are fixed always in the same direction… From centre to circumference in any case is a far cry and I may well be situated somewhere between the two… But the best is to think of myself as fixed at the centre of this place, whatever its shape and extent may be.” Samuel Beckett, The Unnamable

Like Dante, of whom Beckett was a scholar, Beckett knew his position to be precarious (6). Only LOVE, in the transitional figure of an angel, can hold the centre with certainty, and be NAMED. The poet is left to circle AROUND the centre, in time, in obedience to that figure assigned to him. He is a moving image of eternity, never resting in unity, but moving according to number. “And this image we call TIME.” (7) 

All we can know, with certainty, is that the rhythms keep on coming, they just do. That’s how we go on, and get on…

28/11/04 - Folko Jungnitsch says my drawings are like music: “The capture of fluent time”. That we are both searching for the perfect line, and that “the line must be in its time”. (8) 

30/11/04 - The day after the performance and talk by Christian Wolf at Kettle’s Yard: (9) I was struck by his concentration as he followed his sounds, with his eyes and his hands. And how he instantly corrected any false note. “Each note has its own centre,” John Cage told him. And he was taught to play each note exactly as it was written. “Each [note] in its time.” Follow the music, as it is scored.

This is what I do, as closely as possible, and for as long as I can sustain the necessary, unimpinged-upon concentration:

The internal score – the rhythm

The sounded score – the sounds

The chiselled score, already traced onto the sheet from the preceding work WHILE staying in PLACE, and IN PACE.

01/12/04 - And circling around the centre. Today’s series, 1–7, +8 (+9) felt like ‘recordings’, as I turned ‘round the centre LIKE A PHONOGRAPH NEEDLE (the OLD STYLE!). My pencil point held the incised grooves (of the preceding work), and the rhythms [kept] on coming; they just did. The ‘hole’ in the ‘record’ was also recorded, as that central point of light where the lines start, and stop, to precision.

Looking at this series, pinned to the wall, most striking is that central POINT OF LIGHT. VARYING SLIGHTLY from work to work, it is the punctuation, and meaning, of the series.

21/12/04 - 

1–2–3–4–5–6–7–8–

1–2–3–4–5–6–7–8–

25/12/04 -

1–2–3–4–5–6–7–8–

1–2–3–4–5–6–7–8–

26/12/04- The ‘Fred Astaire Walk’ could equally be called The Beckett Walk (as in the title of a drawing by Bruce Nauman). “Every movement in the studio must be artistic.” Bruce Nauman (10)

NOTE: And graceful. Full of grace. In good posture.

27/12/04 - A friend of Duchamp said of him that “his finest work is his use of time” (11) Walkaround Time, the title of a work by Merce Cunningham, with sets designed by Marcel Duchamp, and built by Jasper Johns. On Marcel Duchamp: “his fundamental work was because he chose it, and because it happened to him, by chance” (A Chance Encounter, p. 302)

28/12/04 - The good drawings, as Victor Skipp said, are found objects (12). Tanks to repetition, and to daily practice: “where 1000 variations of three simple movements fill up the time between train and train.” Hugh Kenner on Beckett, 1961 But always with one’s mind in the game, or “this would put [one] of stone forever, and in a very short time”. And at the same time, not being afraid to fail: “To be an artist is to fail” (13). So we must judge, and edit, with those ‘compasses in the eyes,’ choosing only those works that flash conviction on the viewer through aroused sympathy (14)>

29/12/04 - With Werner Klein, in Cologne, inspecting and judging ‘days, Autumn 2004’. Werner noted how crucial selection has become, and proposes the work be called a Selection from a Day.

30/12/04 - See Casa Buonarroti Series, I–IV

“ALL TRUE GRACE IS ECONOMICAL" Beckett

1. So named, because of the comparison presented by Alison Wright in her illustrated talk at Sir John Soane’s Museum in London, 22 October 2004. She juxtaposed a drawing of mine with Michelangelo’s rendering of his house, the Casa Buonarroti. Tis talk was entitled ‘Compasses in the Eyes'

2. Giorgio Vasari, ‘Michelangelo Buonarroti’, in Lives of the Painters, Sculptors and Architects, translated by Gaston de Vere and with an introduction by David Ekserdjian, in 2 volumes (London: Everyman’s Library, 1996).

3. Ibid.

4. This title was suggested by Karshan, and is a translation from a text on her work by Anca Vasiliu, ‘measure sans measure’, from the book Le temps, Lui, Time Being (Paris: Les Editions Signum, 2000).

5. Linda Karshan, ‘The Greek Thing’. In the exhibition ‘Constellation and Chance’ at the Redfern Gallery, London, 21 September–21 October 2004.

6. Not knowing was Beckett’s business: he had little to say about the meaning and background of his work; he issued universal questions, but offered no answers.

7. Plato, Timaeus, translated by Benjamin Jowett.

8. Folko Jungnitsch, in a conversation in the studio.

9. Christian Wolf at Kettle’s Yard, Cambridge, 1 November 2004, in celebration of 70 years.

10. Bruce Nauman, ‘Mapping the Studio’, Tate Modern, October 2004. On display to accompany Raw Materials, his Turbine Hall sound installation, a retrospective of the sound of his video work, arranged, as he said, as need be.

11. Rachel Cohen, ‘John Cage and Marcel Duchamp’, in A Chance Meeting: Intertwined Lives of American Writers and Artists, 1854–1967 (London: Jonathan Cape, 2004), p. 300. See also Marilyn McCully, Measure Without Measure: The Art of Linda Karshan (London: Cacklegoose Press, 2001), for the mention of Karshan’s early interest in Duchamp’s work Nude Descending a Staircase.

12. Victor Skipp in conversation with Linda Karshan at The Redfern Gallery, looking at the exhibition ‘Constellation and Chance’, October 2004.

13. Samuel Beckett, in Molloy (London: Calder and Boyars, 1966) and Three Dialogues with George Duthuit (London: John Calder, 1969).

14. George Eliot. See studio jotting, ‘Flashing Conviction, Summer 2004’