Mapping: cartographies of experience
I find a shady spot between two trees dappled light and coloured shadows
birds are up in and through the trees
I shoot with 50 and 24 mm apertures
respite from the sun
a place to linger in the middle
prototyping mobile and contextual learning platforms: the cube as living archive, touchstone, emplacement, multiplicity.
Tom’s data was lost when the iPad failed. His place, his father’s, coming back to the memories encoded in the place. Mapping experience, slowly. The painting as an archive for memory. A culture of the self. Something about the work: multiples. Working with multiples. Moving around the room. The arc of each encounter, a warming into space. What’s not in the documentation. A negative prehension. An archive of feeling. A meeting of eyes. Fresh eyes, unseen. Some turn and some don’t. Putting on the raiment of the other. In and out of spaces, times, a clock in each alcove. Records. Holes. Resonances. Ruptures. Bleeds. Coming back. It’s all there: on the metaphysical surface between the painting and the brush.
-From the Eth(n)ologist's fieldnotes, 4/5/2015
Each year the space begins anew, as it fills with the intensive movements of students creating works of art. The works of art become the space, growing threads, becoming ecological, a tight weave like walking through a thicket. They whisper about relational aesthetics in the hallways. Pull on one thread and you move the other. Works compose and decompose, they start in the idea and then get lost in the making (a deterritorialising ecology [eco]). Traps and snares for ideas, attention, metacarpal movements, molecular becomings and microperceptions (Deleuze & Guattari, 1987, p. 283). There is a ‘thisness’ to the ecological aesthetic, as it only happens once, and then it happens again but with a different inflection. There it is again. The room is cleared, all the becomings [bec] are cleared out to make way for new ones to emerge. An exhibition happens in event-time. Bodies drift-time. They drink, and talk, and eat the works of art. Sometimes the works end up in different homes, under your parents’ house, or under your bed. It doesn’t really matter where they end up. The event is over. The space breathes its pure potential as bodies prepare to take it by storm once again, to be taken by storm, to precipitate. These are weather patterns of territorialisation and deterritorialisation that drift in ways that only the maps can tell.
-From the Eth(n)ologist's fieldnotes, 27/6/2015
- 'intersections: you are here' exhibition opening