Hello again, sadly for the last time. Here we are, at the end of my time with the University of Bristol Theatre Collection and on the other side of my installation which showcased my artist-in-residence work in the Wickham Theatre back in early June.
Looking back on this project, I am met with both immense fondness and sadness now that it has come to an end. The Where The Bonnie Heather Grows installation was my last practical installation in the university that I have called home for the last three years, as well as being the end point of my artistic-orientated research. I spent the best part of four solid days working very closely with the University of Bristol Theatre Department technicians to fully rig the space, construct from scratch the structure which had been in my mind’s eye for so long, and to calibrate the projected videos to perform in their intended way. After such a gruelling and physically exerting process, the installation was complete and finally ready to open to members of the public.
Throughout this project, I have personally reflected on the relationship that artists share with archives in the creation of new work. However, this period of time highlighted something which I feel needs drawing particular attention to: the relationship effected by archives on artists. More specifically, how artists serve as a conduit which connects the archive and its need for precision and accuracy with the pragmatic nature of technicians, producers and those who may work on a project like this one in some capacity but, having not done the research directly, might not understand the need of the artist for things to be done in certain ways.
For others who walk a similarly intertwined path between these two elements, don’t underestimate the need for clarity and the distinction of open communication with those who you are working with.
The installation itself comprised two central elements: the projected space and a scrapbook which featured a response photographic series taken by me, which, when combined, asked its audiences if the destruction of something was more artistically beautiful than something which has been preserved.
Each of the elements had been directly extracted from my detailed research in the archive. The projected images, now turned into videos to accentuate their decay, were high resolution scans from John Vickers’ original 1920s glass plate negatives. The series of photographs taken by me were all initially monochromatic until double exposed with replicas of the mould-infested structures from the same series by Vickers. Each of these elements, interwoven together, served as a thought-provoking site for my question and for the exploration of my overall interest during the course of this placement: the relationship between the artist and the archive.
On entering the curated space, audiences were met with work that one visitor described as a “stunning use of the archive”, but which also served as “an extra dimension to the preservation and decay interrogation” (audience comments book). For me as the creator, it was really encouraging and enlightening to see people coming up to me with questions and becoming genuinely engaged and enthused by the materials in such similar ways to how I was first drawn to the series in the archive. I felt incredibly proud of what I had created, of course, but also an added sense of pride that I was able to bring John Vickers and his work from out of the depths of the archives again, after so many years, and to breathe new life into it again; for his photos to hold and similarly captivate as they did during his lifetime.
Beginning this process of learning, I felt lucky to have had prior experiences with using archives. At the end of this artist-in-residence placement, I feel a great privilege to have been taught the value of the archive even more so, but to a point where I feel I have formed a working relationship with John Vickers. I’ve learnt that age and time really are just constructs in this kind of work, and that incredible work may just simply be another shelf away, wrapped neatly with archival tape, in an unsuspecting box.
On a final note, I would like to say a massive thank you to Jill Sullivan, Laura Dow, Nigel Bryant, Julian Warren and all the other members of staff at the University of Bristol Theatre Collection for welcoming me into your organisation and being some of the most well versed and knowledgeable people I have had the pleasure of working with. A massive thank you to Dr Kirsty Sedgman, James Lisk and Beth Bransome from the University of Bristol Theatre Department; without your attention, support and incredible capabilities, none of this would have been possible. Thank you to Becky Coster, Ines Sallis, Tommy Tang, Athena Gibson-Diamond and Jesse Prince for volunteering on this project, your support has meant the world, you’re all very dear to me. Finally, I wanted to say thank you to all those who managed to make it to the installation space! It was my pleasure to welcome you and the responses I collected will stay with me for the rest of my professional career.
Bobby
If you want to learn more about this process, or view the materials related to this project, all my physical and digital exhibition work has been donated to the University of Bristol Theatre Collection.