"This is Nowhere …and it's forever…" The world is spinning feverishly, yet is also static, stuck. Things happen, yet nothing actually seems to be happening. We are an artist-led collective. Our aim is to create a place to experiment and generate new thoughts and ideas in order to deconstruct the state of play. We are a nomadic collective without a fixed location, often appearing in temporary spaces. Sustained conversation and forms of collective dialogue are at the heart of our ethos.
I really wanted to make more of this project before the election day, but the things I had been documenting spread into a project I felt I couldn’t reasonably complete in the time space left. I had been making narrated maps and compiling photographs from the 7th May onwards, but to post them all now would just the equivalent of showing the teacher all the ‘hard work’ i’d been doing in the past month in the hope that I could pass the GE2017 exam, and not have to face the tidal wave of bickering sounds that’s building.
I begin with the series of maps I made during the last month, and conclude with a short piece of writing I have cobbled together within the last week, as I tried to make sense of the chaotic, month, year, century leading up to now.
As moments of a terrible nature strive for the lime light. As hate and devision prevails born from a world which is fundamentally in contradiction with itself. We must find a form of dysfunctional unity. If we are to learn anything from the past it is surely that tolerance, freedom and basic moral judgment of human kind, must transcend all naive political tendency. No matter the failings of the West (and there are so many) it is time to join in a collective moment which stops this cycle. The evil acts of the few illogical and inhuman persons on many sides of the political spectrum need to be seen as what they truly represent! A world in pain from ideological stupidity which should have been iradicated in the last century. It’s a fucking disgrace that people can actually act and speak of hate against a fellow person in the way that they do. If we see ourselves as a ‘civilised’ species and want to evolve past the next 50 to a hundred years we need have a good bloody look at ourselves in the proverbial mirror! A moral and ethic, basic human law, implemented world wide, is what is needed in order to move into the next stage of the anthropescene. To avoid complete inhalation we need to come together and drop all deplorable prejudice. This is incredibly difficult as everyone must have a voice. However, if a truly evolved species can move beyond the Kardashev type 1 scale of civilisation (harness the energy emitted from its parent star) this is a political necessity. This hyperthetical agreement cannot be avoided in order for our survival to occur.
The politics and neoliberalism of the last half of the 20th Century has resulted in further devision as forced globalisation. In turn, this has fostered an enterprise culture which serves shareholders and the individual singularly at societal expense. This of course isn’t the full picture. Many global corps do contribute. However, capitalist drive cannot have a moral dimension simply by the fact it is pure drive and a money making machine. What is needed is a socialist capitalism and a new order of politics which can be democratic without being discriminate and divisive.
December 30 2016. I sit in The Retro Bar at The End of The Universe, this time in Sheffield.- it’s focal point the kind of jukebox that gives you performance anxiety (nobody dare choose the ‘wrong song’ at the end of known world). Iconic rave-era track Voodoo Ray plays out, followed by The Buzzcocks’ Ever Fallen in Love. Apparitions of a sunshine, of a world alive, in the deep autumn of our social reality, our civilisation…our world.
2017 looms like a year that threatens to make us remember it. After all, the consistency of 2016 has been akin to a pea soup (a liquid mush aided by smart-tech dependency) with no taste left to it at all. Yet it was the only meal left on the menu.
2017 will be the 100th anniversary of the October Revolution, and who could argue that this moment hasn’t shaped and scarred all imagine…
Apparently Generation Y arrived in January 1984. This means my sense of stuckness could be down being born in a generational hinterland.
Actually no: we are all stuck, stuck in the deep mud between the end of something and something….something else, that needs to be longed into existence promptly.
This year has been one of free-fall in stasis. No wonder the word of the year hasn’t been Trump or Brexit, but post-truth. How could our experience of the world feel to be both frozen and falling to bits at the same time, except in an age when our ability to function in daily life isn’t even affected by an era-defining loss of trust in all beyond our immediate lives?
The freeze and free-fall are no doubt effects that have mushroomed in motion with our hyperspace dependency. To begin with, let’s look no further than the big documentary of the…
This poster serves as a micro experiment within my research. Through exploring a form of collaboration and audience participation i.e. creating a narrative through the syntactical dislocation of another author’s text, I hope to question the boundaries of where a collective is located as opposed to a participatory artwork . This is a stand-alone action within the collective. This concept raises questions of authorship, what is a collective and what isn’t, issues surrounding collective experience and the work plays on the dialectical notion of artists/artwork/viewer/site.
In a sense this work exists within the collective, instigated by a member. However, it also exists externally in a ‘common’ space of the conference. The participants fostered a collaboration with the work as a process never becoming a part of the ‘collective’ as they remain anonymous.
The next stage is to propose a reading of the work or a response within the collective. I open this out to John Ledger and D.S Jarvis- What do you think?
1990’s adverts on YouTube. Scripts I haven’t recited for gone 20 years, but know off by heart. Those moments when you realise that much of the pop music that seeped under your skin from an early age was first heard on TV adverts selling cars, holidays and other shit. A moment that makes you feel like the replicant Rachael in Blade Runner when she is told that her precious childhood memories are, in fact, implants, and not her own,
“Under the general weight of it all.”… and trying to maintain a sense of dignity (the Self[ie] under siege!], I have literally thrown myself into my art-making. And it’s stronger than it’s been for years. But I’m not quite sure why I’m doing this; because I don’t think I have it as ‘career’ in my mind (I can’t picture a…