This bit has been difficult to write. The end of a period of travel in Europe and beginning again a process of work in Australia; from speculation to consolidation of objects thought and found. The difficulty lies in the painful change from a hypothetical speculative maneuver, to the present moment dumbfounded by a collection of choices; priorities aren’t clear and an inertia sets in which I tell myself is part of the solution, a limit found, a retracing required.
From the Jubilee line several floors under the Thames River bank to a plane descending in to Lyon skimming clouds, fields and septic tanks. The local clatter and shadowy movement of french streets, a suspended interval in airports then coming back to my senses deafened by flight noise and peering down onto the stillness of the Central Australian Desert at dusk.
I’ll try to bring a framing process that is less compacted, more about positioning.
Returning to Australia we passed through Lyon briefly for a night and a day staying with a couple of friends kept in touch from earlier in the year. The season completely changed gave new experience of the city, the only place to find a breeze in the humid July air was standing on a bridge between the cliffs of the Saône river.
Bicycle thieves in the street below kept me from sleeping and I’d taken a walk in the early morning across the river, part way up to the basilica then down a hillside stairway to the appeals court; twenty four white scalloped columns forming a reef on the riverbank and looking like a vast gearing ready to part the waters. Classical cylinder drums turning in the flow of the river pulling in whatever unlucky aspects of Lyon street life that happened close by.
Walking along the walk bridge a churn of water below, pink and ochre planes on the riverbank, the old buildings present an easy to follow stand up colour code; but carded with variables of size and number they form a space that slides, advances and retreats; feinting, striking and posturing to the law on the other bank.
Theatrical. I can hear the sides of a frame sliding into place, binaries composed to allay the inertia, so many things to choose from, let them in.
Over North West Australia at dusk. My eyes are drawn to the long shadowed shapes of ridges and plateaux; broad expanses and the sudden pinpoint of a small settlement. Taking me into metaphor, a series of parallel geological stone lines casually swept with sand like chalk dust across a blackboard. A miniature yet vast, yet again miniature horizontal plane. Metaphor keeps swinging between vehicle and tenor neither more actual than the other. The random and the determined are slippages between connected planes rather than philosophical binaries.
Remembering a survey show in London from Poland titled: Sounding The Body Electric. Milan Grygar’s 1975 Acoustic Drawing, Homage à Cubisme is a drawing made by releasing wind up toy animals on a sheet of paper. Signs of the drag and shuffle of black ink, or pecked and burnt with the flame of a match at the drawing surface. The sound recording of these operations is integral to the visual record. Looking/listening to it one is aware of a third dimension just out of range, it’s associated with the absurd impulse of the artist driven by a political context; formed in landscape, a humdrum set of pointless emerging actions in which one hovers, in expectation of a pictorial, a formal reading, but left in agitation with a document formed randomly from a set of instructions just off the edge of the paper determined in the noise of its actions.