The painting today was instigated by my neighbour Elisibeth who not only is our most loyal collector and frame horder (she often brings us frames from the free loppis at atervinningscentral) but now deserves the title of collaborator as it was she who alerted me to these tremendous haystacks in Herrang.
They are of an old fashioned type that one rarely sees now, in fact the only other occasion that I have had the pleasure was at this same croft a few years past. I took an SAS study then and on hearing of their reappearance I wasted no time in snatching another. You see the hay is drying out there, piled manually with fork upon basic steak structure. It is not out for long so one must jump at it and this evening I drove out there, set up on the side of the road and took it as fast as I could. As chance would have it Elisibeth and her husband drove past while I was out and after the surprise of recognition she nodded approvingly through the glass. I raised a brush as they whizzed by.
The work was a continuation of our aim to paint fast and unhesitatingly and to reach full realisation in one session but on this occasion and with this subject it had to be thus.
It is perhaps too early to form an opinion but there is something we might call progress in this study specifically in the togetherness and character of the leaning trees. It is just this sort of unplanned aesthetics that can result from Doing at speed. The way the trees are is just how they have turned out. What a simple statement but one can draw inspiration from it. Look here, to paint in a way that dislocates ones intentions from what is produced is a mysterious pleasure and one can imagine that this relationship with the ‘way things turn out’ can perhaps be entered into in an indirect fashion and developed according to curious logic, like the way a conversation floats and drifts between engaging adult and earnest child. The key of course is to resist the temptation to consciously ‘improve’ the work with those little touches in the studio which so often can lead to Lantieresque capitulation.1
Well, with these haystacks and this text we nudge on. Another page turned, a new twist in the plot and in time we shall have a book; the story of our trying. But look here, book metaphor yes but I am actually working on a real book also, of my TAS residency and if I may be so bold I would like to float the possibility of a Dignity Scholarship book.2 We now have 34 studies on hand and the end of the season looms so why not put it out? A season annual. After all the book format it seems to me is the best way to present this work, aside from a full scale Tambourine3 size exhibition, which neither of us can manage just now. Besides is not communication fundamental? Our themes refer to shelter and the cubbyhole notion but is that not more in terms of the working process, of working on with quiet dignity in the 'rough seas of the post truth era'? To work on these themes does not entail secrecy, dissemination is as important as ever, but perhaps the trick is to only make an offer to the public when the work is ripe, as opposed to the ceaseless dailying encouraged by instagram - a habitual process which I now believe can infect and even dominate ones art practice.
So I propose a standard publication of our work when, and only when, it is finished at the end of the season (which will be October). It is not my intention to promote some old fashioned approach to the dissemination of art, I myself have indulged more than most in games of public intervention at the Open Council, but we do need to be reminded I feel of the fundamental law of institutional critique that if ones work is not visible then the critique, however sharp, will be ineffective. Or is that all down the pan as well? That logic was certainly developed in different times but this topic is a can of worms more suited to a PhD intern and we have no time to be sure. I can say however that to work patiently at ones own pace, refusing to chase every wave that breaks and building slowly towards a conclusion that can then be made public...well it does seem very traditional but also very timely. Added to this is the availability nowadays of high quality self publishing services so one does not have to rely on being selected by a house.4 I have grovelled enough at these places with barely a response, even going as far as playing up the autofiction angle which seems to be a popular trend in literature of a kind and something that we have developed quite naturally, but still nothing. What you get is an invitation to submit a proposal which is all right and proper but they tend to be lengthy affairs designed it seems to sort the wheat from the chaff based on who can be bothered to fill in the form!
So while I am aware of the accusations thrown at the world of self publishing, of diminished standards, vanity projects, fanzines and rants which could all use an editor, I do feel that to publish something is a good start and it appears the best way is to use the print on demand service offered by something called 'The Amazon'. Their offer is a simple one; send your completed manuscript and they will make it available and when some innocent requests a copy they will print one off and take their percentage. Good book or bad they are sitting pretty and the author, well the author gets a chance. For us the benefit will be a sense of organisation, completion and the sense at least of communication, of audience. We can think of The Amazon as shelf, as storage facility and look here we could have a dozen or so printed off for ourselves and let them sit around Norrtelje somewhere. Also there are signs that the standard is being raised or perhaps it is that writers worth a damn are more and more becoming convinced of the benefit of self publishing, seeing the opportunity in it rather than just the stigma of low end. In addition, while I searched for publishers who may be interested in somewhat unorthodox art books I came across a London vein of bookshops that keep shelves of the self published and some shops dedicated solely to these efforts. It is curated of course but one can at least apply with ones finished work rather than through the agonising game of forms. One such outlet in Hackney seemed disarmingly pleasant about the business of begging for a spot, proclaiming cheerfully that prospective authors can make an appointment to visit and show off their wares. Now that I will certainly do with the TAS and perhaps later with one of ours. A little hope for the future eh.
Out for a meadow tomorrow...if we get the rub.
John
PS
I fell victim to a self published novel on Van Gogh that combined his life with some Da Vinci code style thriller. Unfortunately it was found wanting, barely scraping above the level of poor IDS and his Devils Tune.5
1 Claude Lantier, the tragic hero of Emile Zola's book The Masterpiece.
2 We have no funds for publishing a book at this time.
3 The Tambourine is a cafe in Paris where Van Gogh exhibited.
4 Publishing house.
5 Refers to the Conservative politician Ian Duncan Smith who was Secretary of State for Work and Pensions during John's Torpoint Art Service residency. His book the Devil's Tune was unsuccessful with the critics but was selected by John for the Open Council Book Club in 2010.