Ink or Swim, Ferens Gallery, Hull. May 2010.

Students’ new wave exhibition of maritime artworks.

“The work of 55 students, including sculpture, fashion, photography, painting and craft objects, will be displayed in Gallery 4 throughout the exhibition, which runs until 30 May”

“The title Ink or Swim comes from the students discovering that in maritime mythology, sailors believed a pig tattooed on the left foot and a rooster on the right would keep them from drowning. As neither of these animals can swim, it was believed that the image symbolised a safe journey back to the shore”

There’s a wonderful church like quality to a gallery, light fighting itself a welcome, or for a more friendly kind of place, light seeming to drop in and coat it, blanket like. The echoes of people clicking their heels on the parquet flooring, muffled sounds, someone taking confession in a room hidden from view, all you need is for a young alter boy to sway by wafting incense and you can be easily confused into dropping to your knees and screaming “it was me – and I am sorry!”. The nearest I experienced to the waft was when two men hurtled past me pushing the tea trolley, cups clattering and tea-spoons a-jingling. The new exhibition at Ferens Gallery, Hull, Ink or Swim, offered all this and more, as I wandered in and out of the exhibits in Gallery 4. The pieces that caught my attention, held it and then would not let me go, were the clothing. I was unprepared for these items to be there and once found, it was difficult to leave them and discover the other items.

My favourite piece was grandly titled Mystic Glow.

The three contributing artists (surely though they are designers and / or seamstresses?) Shamina Begum, Holly Fallowfield, Sophie Parkinson have made a most luxuriant, stylish and playful dress – how I wish they’d fashioned it on a live model, a photo or two to show me, the layman what it looks like when filled with life.

My first thought on seeing it was, oh my, Organza. Organza is one of my most favourite fabrics. I love the sheer-ness of it, I love the way it can define, kill or change a colour, how it uses light and pattern, interweaving the woven thread playfully. Very sexy. I used to take a beautiful piece of organza with me on my travels, it always made my room look a little bit more ‘mine’ and that can be a positive thing if you are living in a country, many miles from home and having to sleep in a less than favourable environment, a building sight or back room or basement, (this from the voice of experience). It can be a towel, a wrap, a sarong, protection from flies and other flying creatures at your door or window, a bandage. It also folds up into the smallest size, is lightweight and barely takes up any room in your back-pack. All this went through my head and I was still 10 feet away from Mystic Glow.

I loved the constructed furls neatly hanging from the waist line, mathematically placed at equal intervals all around it. Like looking in to a birds nest and seeing all the fledglings, beaks wide open clamouring for more, more what? I am not sure... space, time, anything to fill the void. It was like looking at an untamed umbrella and the urge to reach out and touch it was strong. I wanted it in my kitchen as a replacement for the drawer that holds ‘stuff’. All those neatly formed pockets – ooh the things I could drop in to those spaces, plastic coated wire ties for around a bag, the odd penny, my phone charger, a lonely knitting needle, that recipe quickly written down with nowhere to put it, my cat. I also wanted to pick it up and turn it upside down, curious to see if it held a contrasting version underneath itself, one of those Topsy-turvey dolls originally made to fool the ‘massa’ on plantations, the white doll when he was around, and when he wasn’t, turn it upside-down and as if by magic out would come the black doll. I think I would have been asked to leave if I’d done that though.

20 paces further along another beautiful item of clothing was calling me, this one, Ivory Siren by Roxanne Avery, Hansa Kandiah, Laura Thompson was an exoskeleton, although the artists describe it as inspired by “skeletal whale remains” in my imagination it took the format of a white beetle, well constructed outside and warm and squishy inside – which, when worn, is exactly how it would be. J

Almost stylish, nearly wearable I wonder how many times it would get caught up with every day obstacles, how many times would the chair you’d been sitting on attach itself and decide to follow you around once you’d risen? Walking past a door handle and having to fight your way in and out of a room? It was rigid and somehow delicate, how I do love a good oxymoron, to wear an oxymoron would be a delight. Lady Gaga-esque...

I can hear the ‘dowdy, practical’ grown-ups tutting from here. Can you?

He waited for Alice and went home....

My bonus club points were paid in full as I (totally unexpectedly) met the artist responsible for ‘Waiting For Alice’, here. I don’t know who was more blown away, me for meeting her, or her for having to deal with my obvious pleasure at finding her!

Jackie Needham is a gentle, timid, delightful lady. She created my most favourite exhibit, from a previous show. What are the odds of ever meeting the artist? She was uncertain whether, or maybe even what to share with me, a complete stranger, about an obviously very personal piece of creativity. She mentioned her siblings, and that hare was some kind of representation of one of her younger brothers. I do hope she contacts me, or gets her-self a web presence to enlighten those of us who were particularly taken with such a lonely, sad and quite statement. I hope that hare has now had his fork and spoon untied.

Hare’s chair, sitting there looking pure, lonely, vulnerable, and lost. It was a really touching moment, and I would have loved to have taken photos of hare being placed into his travel box, I hope she let him out when he got home, I hope he finds Alice.

Gerbera’s

We are reflected by our choices and preferences throughout life, I love this. Something as simple as a flower can tell you so much about the person who has selected it. I have always been attracted too Gerbera’s, I just never found out what they were called or that there were so many colours, designs and choices. I was given these yesterday, got them home and found I no longer own a vase, part of their beauty is in their stems, the thought of cutting them down so they’d fit into my drinking glass was abhorrent too me, this was my compromise lol

My preferences are the orange and red ones, can you tell?

A flower, the Barberton daisy (Gerbera jamesoni) was discovered in Barberton, Mpumalanga Province, South Africa (1889) by Robert Jameson.

Red flower made from felt, pink eyelash Gerbera by *Loli-rot.

Waiting for Alice...

Recently I moved, and had only a few items to move with, the end result is that I am being driven absolutely bat-shit by the plain cream walls. The never ending Kingdom of Numbness. Help!

It’s rented accommodation and I think my land lord may well have heart failure if he ever saw what I would truly love to do to ‘his’ walls. The solution is of course art, be that paintings, post-cards, shelves or ‘things’. All my beautiful acquisitions, garnered from my travels around the planet are sadly locked away and I do not have access to them. I find myself in the most awkward position of either trying to re-buy the pieces I truly love, nigh on impossible as most are ‘one-offs’ or I can’t remember who the artist is and anyway how do you replace those one off purchases of cloth bought in Brazil, or Australia...? So I have been trawling the internet looking for inspiration. This is not how I usually find the objects I fall in love with and buy, it is usually done in the more normal way of seeing the item, be that down an alley off a market in some far off land, or in a quirky little shop in a town I will never re-visit, I have bundles of cloth, spied in obscure places, pieces of pottery in vibrant colours, all sadly not in my reach. It makes me so sad.

I was invited to the Ferens Gallery in Hull on it’s opening night a few weeks ago, there were several pieces I admired, most out of my price range or sold, and yesterday we decided to re-visit the show as it closes on the 18^th April. I wanted to take a few photies. I also wanted some names of the artists whose work had caught my attention. It was like a different show if I am honest. The loud babbling crowds were not there, the light was different and I was allowed to indulge myself if I chose too, by standing and looking at some of the pieces for a long time. Some of the pieces were even better when viewed again. This piece (for me) in particular. And yes, I know it isn’t a vibrant, colourful quirky piece of work, it doesn’t half grab your attention though. It is rather large.

Insightful by Victoria Wilson.

I couldn’t discover anything about the artist, so if anyone can send me a link to her I would appreciate it.

I could be described as disturbingly and passionately interested in the Eating Disorder Anorexia. (see my blog) Which of course means the piece I was most interested in appealed to me as something that may well resonate with women who live daily with Anorexia, or the very least, with some form of Eating Disorder, of course, it was the one that was not for sale. I loved everything about this bizarre and strange piece. Would happily have him sit in my front room, along-side my cat for the rest of my days on the planet. I was fascinated with his ‘hands’, noting that on my return visit to the Gallery that his fork and spoon had been tied together – I am sure there is a simple explanation for this happening, my friend said most likely people were picking his arms and hands up and playing with them, my head took the dark route and decided it was an even more extreme sense of hate, loathing, denial, then again, I am strange like that. His feet disturbed me as well, I couldn’t stop looking at them if I am honest, his spoon and fork and his clawed boots / feet, mute and still, sitting there silently watching as people pass him by, most of which seemed to ignore him – sums up Anorexia incredibly well. This of course does not mean this is the truth behind why the artist made this piece, I would be very interested to know where her inspiration came from.

Waiting For Alice.

Here are a selection of the pieces that I really enjoyed, the Clown is still for sale… and I was sorely tempted J

James Usher’s work was one that I also found strangely interesting, read about him here…

...and I discovered on my second visit to the Gallery a limited edition of an artist I had found between my first Ferens visit and the most recent one, I saw one of his postcards in the Beverly Tourist Information shop, read about him here, Ian Mitchell.



Jayne's Bangle by Stephen Charles Shepherd. Hullart.

I have credited the artist if I knew their name, apologies for those whose work still remains uncredited, please contact me and put me right on any information relevant….

I was told off for taking images of the Peacock, so I have reduced them almost to the point of it not worth posting them (no-one will be re-printing from these images lol) The peacock is made of cloth and sequins and all-sorts of bits and pieces, the colouring was fantastic (think of the cleaning though) I think you would also require a stately home to be able to display it to it’s best. It was a veritable feast for the eyes.

In another part of the gallery you can also see the original work for the Beautiful South’s album “Quench”, it is a mighty large fcuker, about the size of a door.