detached


critical engagement

least obviously
intricate web
geometric poem
insistently intervenes

a demarcation
stake out
sacred discourses
strings plucked
within the fabric

texture may
resonate
virtually any shape
dangling
shadowing

deepest recesses
whose claustrophobic
affect
is something of an unquiet soul

it will always find ways to return

Bob Georgeson
November 2012

Art in the digital domain

Every now and then I feel the need to remind my son, who is 29 years old and knows everything, that it was old farts like me that invented and developed the Internet and WWW, and that the sophistication (and I dare say usefulness) of things like HTML, cascading style sheets, online relational databases etc, are far more interesting and likely to be remembered than the ability to be able to Tweet from your smartphone. Of course pronouncements such as this fall on deaf ears to the Me++ generation who, in an attempt to find relevance in a world where everything of interest has already been done, have formed the spatial ability to arrive at the conclusion that the universe began in 1980, and that anything prior to that is therefore irrelevant.

I mention this in relation to art. When people ask me what kind of art I do, and I respond that I work in photomedia, photomontage, video and predominantly online in the public domain, their eyes glaze over, the bottom lip starts twitching, and the ensuing silence seems interminable. Young artists just stare with incredulity that someone of my age can even mouth these words, while my peers mumble stuff about the tactile nature of art. Unless it hangs in a frame on the wall of a gallery then it can't be taken seriously. I understand their point, for many of them computers are things to be feared and used only under sufferance, and when it's a sunny day in paradise who wants to be inside anyway? And, there is always the question of money...

So, what is it and why do it? Just about every major gallery in the world has an online presence, in some case their entire collections are available, as well as research or commentary. Past criticism of online galleries has been image resolution. The Google Art Project aims to bring together high res pics from major collections. Wikipedia's Arts Portal is worth bookmarking, particularly for more detailed information about creative culture across the ages. In an earlier post I have featured UbuWeb, and I cannot reiterate enough how good this site is for anyone interested in 20th and 21st Century contemporary culture and the avant-garde. It continues to amaze and inspire with every visit...

For the artist two sites deserve mention. First Wikimedia Commons is a vast repository of public domain images, sound files and videos made available through the GNU and Creative Commons licences. And there is The Internet Archives, an equally if not more outstanding resource in the public domain that contains video,  live music, audio and texts. Many artists are now drawing on these resources, and some, like myself choose to work almost entirely within the public domain. Why? Exposure is  the answer. While it is nice to be  a legend in one's own backyard, ultimately not many people get to see your work, let alone participate in thoughts or discussion. Starting this blog and a new way of working this year I had no expectations of what might happen. Now, over 7000 page views, 800 looks at my profile, discussions with artists and organisations around the world later, to go back to the white cube with 20 visitors a day seems a little, well, quiet.

For me working in the public domain is exciting and challenging. I am always learning, or having to learn something new. This is rewarding because, unlike my son, I know very little.

la mariée mise à nu



This film is a mashup of a talk given by Marcel Duchamp in 1957 entitled 'The Creative Act', and footage of 60's glamour model Candy Earle. The visuals owe a lot to Brian Eno's 'Thursday Afternoon'. All of this can be sourced through The Internet Archives and UbuWeb...

But it says here...

Bob Georgeson, But it says here..., 2009? Photomontage

Another one from the Brides Of Christ series that I had forgotten I had done! An interesting part of the creative process...I don't know if other artists have the same experience. Guess one is busy looking forward much of the time, so it is a surprise to go back through the files and discover these works that have never seen the light of day. Either that or I was so smashed I just didn't remember doing it...no, that can't be the case because I never get out the spray adhesive while inebriated...nothing worse than gluing ones face to the table...

Interlude...

Portrait of Australian Salmon with author, October 2012

In general I aim to focus on the arts in this blog and not turn it into a chronicle of daily life, but I couldn't resist this little interlude, and some might say that there is an art to fishing. And the fish was caught among one of the most extraordinary sights I have ever seen. We had heard that there were lots of salmon hanging around the mouth of the lake, so puttered over in the tinny to take a look. On an incoming tide the water was literally boiling as hundreds and hundreds of these magnificent fish were schooling. (For my international readers the Australian Salmon is not a true salmon species but a migratory pelagic species that moves around beaches, headlands and occasionally estuaries. They are fast, powerful and can be voracious feeders).

Being able to see these fish at close hand in clear water about 2-3 metres depth was a special experience. Why they were there I can't explain. They did not seem to be feeding or on the move. One could only feel sorry for any tasty smaller fish that tried to move through them. I cast out a 4" plastic lure and quickly retrieved it bouncing it along the surface when the first fish struck. For an angler a surface strike is the penultimate experience as the fish breaks the water, it's silver body leaping into the sunlight.

Then that moment of elation is broken as the fish dives, the drag on the reel screams as line disappears, and the rod is bent at a 45 degree angle and just about ripped out of your hand. And the battle begins. No point in trying to skull drag this animal into the boat. She (as it turns out) had other ideas and was clearly not happy at being hooked. All I could do was hang on, occasionally try to reel in a little line and watch as she dived and swept from one direction to another to escape. My biggest problem was trying to keep her from going completely under the boat and tangling the line in the outboard. She finally tired after about five minutes and we manged to get her into the net. To be able to see all this happen at close hand in such clear water was a first for me. A memorable fishing moment: fresh ecologically sustainable catch in perfect condition. Filleted, skinned, blood line cut out, herb crumbed and fried with garden salad and warm homemade bread. It doesn't get much better than this...

...and if you are REALLY into fishing then check out this blog...

In the studio

Bob Georgeson, In the studio, 2012, digital photography

I have put this up to remind myself that I really should take Suzanne out of the cupboard soon...

Schwitters in Lobosice

A delightful story I re-read recently, told by Raoul Hausmann:

Kurt Schwitters, Untitled (with early portrait of Kurt Schwitters), 1937/38, Collage, Sprengel Museum, Hannover

"The day after the performance, we started out on the return journey. First we went to the little town of Lobosice, because it had the Elbe, in which Schwitters wanted to bathe, and also a ruin. We left Prague in the afternoon, and, to Schwitters' great regret, we were compelled to take an express train in order to get to Lobosice on the same day. It was packed, so Kurt and Helma (his wife) got into one carriage and Hannah (Hoech) and I into another.

It was evening when we arrived at Lobosice. There was only a sort of covered platform on a high railway embankment. We went down some steps, looked round and saw nothing but a pine forest, nothing else whatever apart from the station building, about two hundred yards away. There we stood. Was this Lobosice?

Schwitters said "Hausmann, you and Hannah go over there and ask if the town is far away and whether there is a hotel we can spend the night." No sooner said than done.

We came back. Under an apple-green evening sky, against a high black embankment, burned a single feeble street-light. There stood a statue; it was a woman with her arms stretched out in front of her and draped with shirts and underclothes. She stood there like Lot's pillar of salt, while on the ground knelt a man, surrounded by shoes and articles of clothing, before him a suitcase full of papers, like the intestines of a slaughtered animal.

He was doing something to a piece of cardboard with scissors and a tube of adhesive. The two people were Kurt and Helma Schwitters. The picture is one I shall never forget: these two figures in the great dark Nothingness, totally absorbed in themselves.

As I approached I asked "Kurt, what are you doing?"

Kurt looked up and replied, "It occurred to me that collage 30 B 1 needs a little piece of blue paper in the lower left-hand corner. I shan't be a moment."

Such a man was Kurt Schwitters."