Apples hanging

"THREE SHEETS TO THE WIND, " is showing at Thomas Dane Gallery until 26th May.
It is original, impressive and beautiful...


"I WILL WLK DOWN TO THE END WITH YOU IF YOU WEILL COME ALL THE WAY WITH ME, "is a great big mesh of macarme, a hand-knotted hop twine. Gallaccio square-knotted perfectly throughout. It is magically hung for her first solo show at Thomas Dane Gallery and looks rather like a life-size spider's webb taking over the Gallery space, intimidating everyone around with its scissor reminiscent design. Displayed in this magical sence, it drapes above and around the walls and onto the floor imitating a hammock.

Anya Gallaccio belongs to the "Brit-Art" generation of artists. She makes artwork which can clearly be seen as explorations of effects from growth and decay. An interesting aspect about the way she works is that she claims to be drawing when not actually using a pencil. Whithout using a pencil, she draws: For example the task of pressing flowers till they eventially rot can be a drawing. This is simply as she can produce lines and a whole range of marks with those materials. In doing this she manages to represent it to us in this interesting light, better still without the use of a pencil. To list some of her creations: pressing of flowers with glass until they rot, capturing and recording the transformation. She has also built a block of ice weighing 34 tonnes including rock salt in its core, this was left it to collapse of its own accord! She has even been known to paint chocolate onto walls and watch it disolve and change colour or rather discolour. This has relevence to my current work as I am working with natural /organic materials such as flowers, flower-heads, petals, etc.. I am keen to transform these into a comletely different appearance by taking them apart in some way and giving them new identities as it were. I plan to work with other materials, like glass and china. Anya Gallaccio has had her work hung in many ways, more appropriately suspended from walls and ceillings. The hanging of delicate apples such as the piece I have selected bellow requires a lot of attention. The spaces between the apples have to be exact.

There is a strong invitation for interaction from the viewer within Gallaccio's work. The hanging of each piece tempts the on-looker to take a closer look and to want to touch and be closer to it:

"Revos d'or," 2006. This bronze cast of an actual tree is positioned in an inappropriately too small space for it to sit comfortably. This forces viewers to pass by to it extremely closely, so that they have to brush against it, at the very least, in order to enter the next room and take a look at the following pieces. This encourages participation from an audience. The apples hung to the tree dangle from bright red string in a playful way, in yet another attempt to tempt its visiter.

At this point it is important not to forget that the "hammock", or "nets" which function as drawings, where repitition is most apparent, similarly has to be touched to be fully admired. This may be done so by standing in the corner or hovering underneath its enormity or better still crowched against the wall and itself which enables one to get a taste of the undenyable interactive atmosphere and see it for all its glory!...

Anya Gallaccio's piece here is using apples tied up on string. There are a variety of different sized spaces between them. From this particular angle the apples on the far lefthand side are much closer together and then gradually expand.

This popular artist is originally from Scotland and now works and lives in London. She is well established. She studied at Goldsmiths and became well known for minimalist structures. Her specific interest lies in the process. She welcomes the idea of unpredictability in her works. According to the artist "IT'S A COLLABORATION BETWEEN THE MATERIALS AND ME ". Having established that process is the most vital part for Gallaccio's work, it is also apparent that the concept of repitition has a big part to play here also: As I have mentioned before and wish to reiterate, the hammock is made up of scissor-like shapes repeated throughout. THESE SQUARE KNOTS ARE CONSISTENT THROUGHOUT! Gallaccio has also made a number of other casts of objects including artichokes as well as trees and apples. GO AND SEE IT!... ( GWEN!)

creative text piece as follows:

DO NT WAL K IN A S T R AIGHT ------- ------------------

O

N O T H I N G :

Nothing. Not a sound. Not a sound at hand. Not a sound about. Nothing. Still. Stillness in dead of night. Long night. Dark thick night. Blackness creeping up on you. Blackness all around- filling all around you- filling every space- ever thickening. Everything is quiet- deserted. Stuffing seedy silence. Suffocating spaces. Darkness spreading unevenly into minimal occupied places- swallowing cracks- sinking slowly. Doors bolted. Windows closed off. Nothing. Not a sound to be heard. Not a curtain rustle. No no such creaking floorboards. No whistle of slightest wind. Nothing. Stifling silence. Empty darkness harrowing and conquering home. Emptiness seeping through all cold stone wall. Terrifying black silence breathing deep Scratching, marking into useless furniture. Covering of corners. Trickling lines on walls and floors. Thirteen rooms counting one attic standing in midst of night. And there it appeared, a single of flicker of golden shimmering of light. It hovering on cast iron staircase. Enabler of light such simply see- cracks of black, smears in smoky line- attacking stone magnolia curves. Monstrous darkness shrinking cowardice. Backing away from, retreat. Vanish, extinguished. Slow stepping, winding shadows movement. Slipping underworld and open his bedroom door. Turning its handle. Relinquish of flame. On switch to house light. Brilliant smoke trails from a burning threshold. Door a-jar. Trails of dust sweeping along woman's foot. Click, click of her joint. Short subtle movements. Surpassing on side past sleeping machine resting by Alex's body. "Rosemary!" "Is that you!?" Murmurs from the bed "Rosemary!" Once more murmurs lying face-up, he awakes from broken slumber. Unable to see, to decipher, asking her: "Where?". " where?". "where are my legs?" "Alex", Alex" Rosemary repeat. "It's timing, Alex, timing!" "Get you up must!" "Don't tell, pray don't tell!" "No, not still here!?" "I am!?" Continues obstinate.

"A nightmare!" "AAAARGH!" "Nightmare!" "Nightmare!" "Where....?" "Still here!?" "Have I been attacked?" "Is it still horrors reality?"- "Like in prison? In prison cell!" "No!" "No!" "No!" "Trapped." "Forever likely in this trap!" "Release me please!" "I pray" "Away!" "Away take me this day!" "Rosemary!"...."Shut once more all light"- "prevent day begin!" "Let it not happen!"

Dawn beckons : Besiege!

"I'm still here!" whimpering, murmuring Alex.

"I'm bloody still here!"

Day break. Day break. Begin for rising by Rosemary. 45 minutes exact time.

Outstrech. Body, arms, legs. "No!" "No!" "Not anymore" "What for!?" "Why?" "Must it really be?" She reasures "Come now" "Now!", "now!" "You Know it must!" "Aaargh!". "Pointless~!", "pointless, this physio!" "Not mind", Not mind", / not mind".

Enter seconds a sharply stepper in to room. "Rise and Shine!" Firmly de-clamping and unbolting windows, doors realised. Rushing of air. Let light flooding into-

"Light", "Light" - "let there be light!" "Time for get up!" "Up!" "Up!" "Up!" "Time for get up!" "Up!" "Up!" "Up!"

Crying Alex aloud: Is too cold !" "Too cold in here" "Come on, Come on!" Affirming mother.

15, 16,17, 18 and 19, 20 onto next arm and leg. "There", "there" "Almost over" Rosemary claim.

And

15, 16,17, 18 and 19 and 20.

breakfast

Wheels to the bathzimmer, Moving outside corridor. Wash him, help him pee. Brush his teeth. Too time consuming. Such simple functions. Too much consuming all each day.. All each day the same.

No, nothing but pain. Pain ever present. The feet purple with pressured pain. "Aaargh Aaargony!" "Arrange!" "Arrange!" "Arrange!" Pain again, pain again. Again and Again And to the breakfast and then to the frame!

breakfast 7:30am Breafast. The three round an old small oak Spoonfulls of hot oats , toast and dreaded fruitfull. "Less salt more sugar!" demand does Alex . "And where is butter?" "More toast!" "No tea!". "No water!" "Feed me!" "Feed me!" "Come on!" "Now!" "Standing frame!" "Period!" - mother says and over back, motions down to corner passage. "UP!" "UP!" "UP!" "I tell you UP!" "It's bloody weekend" - Alex says and. "Bloody break" And "the telly", "may I "? "what !!" "No!" as again mother.

Sun spilling into apparatus filled room, wooden frame, half metal. How long for. What for. Up he moves - forwards, upwards, blood rushing, gushing.

And all is clamped. He must be tightly clamped in uncomfortable fashioning. Tighter fearful. uncomfortably strapped. No escape, No escape.

Television in corner of eyes - jarring visions. No time, no choice, no freedom? Where is his mind going? Where does he go? Where will he go?

A woman years back caught her death inside suicide on darkness fell upon ? Did she take a slip from flight of stairs? Sun blinds his sight. Minimal movements make. Unnerving frustration, fearing life. Not a new day but another.

Time passing slow. No go to. Nothing. Standing still in cold living. Dust ridden wall. Computer calls. Crash! Will he fall?! As the old woman did fall?! When will he fall! Is he free? Is he free?

Show him you patience - show him your love. Give him time and time again. I want! I want! I want! I.....

from Bathzimmer and, back to bedroom he re-wheels Screech! Screech! Dress - up time. Timetabled clothes, surfacing, regular clockwork routines. Clothes ready and stacked by spare bed. A plain white shirt. One navy sweater (school sweater). One blue and yellow tie. A pair of black trousers. One pair of clean white socks. The uniform laid out. Ready to re-wear.

"Do I have to wear those boring things again?" "Why?", "Why?" "Why?" "Do I have to go to school?" - Another embarrassing and utterly humiliating day? "What for?"

Remember boy at school chased him. Run into back of Alex and shook him thorough! Told him he did have no friends. Telling of no soul liking him, that he was alone. Completely alone. This foolish behaving boy spoke in nonesense. All the same he spoke. He uttered this defiantly. Defiant. Bold. Brashly. Not to be bothered but.

Yes! Bold! Bold and Brave Alex continues. He battles on. He carries on. Carries on, and carries on. Carries on. However many wishes he has. Difficulties, problems, depressing. He wishes, He wishes, He wishes all different. Here he wishes:

"I wish I wasn't, wasn't in this !" "I wish I wasn't bound, bound up to dumb wheels and chair!" I want things different. Not limited nor unfair. Not to be squashed. To swap another person. To see from someone else. To be other! To be free.

"I wish I had legs working and to take myself away!" "Away!", "Away!"

STONES

This work by Andy Goldsworthy I find especially has an influence on my work. They way these stones have broken I can't be sure if they have been reassembled properly or actually wheather the artist has effectively put the parts of other stones that are not originally belonging here. Still it is so well done it is hard to tell though.