We're having trouble describing what we do

The Poly-Technics first publication has been initiated by Steve and I sending the following catalyst text / provocation out. We asked people we know to write in response in no more than 1000 words, using their own specialism as guide. It seems like the chance to look at our practice is opportune enabling us to consider and reflect what practice like ours is, does and means. Invited contributors are: Kate Pahl, Amanda Ravetz, Stephen Walker, David Gilbert, Richard Steadman-Jones, Amanda Philips, Clare McManus Tim Neal, David Mcaleavey,  Elizabeth Genever, Louise Pullen, Paul Allender, Sally Lemsford, Nabeel Hamdi.

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Title: We’re having trouble describing what we do.

The motivation for working together is really less to do with bringing different skills to bear on a common problem but rather it is this immediacy of response encountered in the discussion of ideas combined with the consummate otherness of thought which the collaborative partner brings.

                Nick Crowe and Ian Rawlinson (Artist newsletter)

Steve:

What would constitute a provocation – you are such a diverse bunch of clever people that I think a one size fits all approach to provoking you to write about us might not provoke anybody. I like the quote above because this sums up Kate and my collaboration. I like the friction of conversation, the never quite agreeing on something or our inability to unpick ideas back to a source and as Nick and Ian go on to say in the quote above the. ”Continuing erosion of the centered self.”

Kate:

I suppose what I think Steve and I do has been crafted over many a year, one proper argument, lots of coffee and I suspect too many hours of animated conversation. We have of course done quite a lot of doing and it is often through this doing that I have realized that we have a shared vision of what works and what doesn’t – as art, as useful, as good collaboration etc. I agree that the erosion of the centered self is what’s good – the imagined other, the potential feedback and the encouraged self-reflection. However I also think the more we work together it’s about self-preservation, its divisive perhaps – I’m made less shit by working with him.

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Steve has recently been accused of being obsessed with form, and over the years he has been accused of many things. But taking this on the chin and reading through our Blog we have decided that the form of our provocation should be a conversation.  It’s not a real conversation of course – written conversations never are, it’s carefully crafted in a nuanced way to give an insight into the things that matter.

On Art

Steve.  Art is just shit – I can’t get my head around it – it’s completely up it’s own arse and I am constantly on the point of giving it up and doing something important.

Kate. I agree, but also would be desperate if it didn’t exist. That’s why it seems important to stop calling it art because of the default setting we now have – the contemporary art world. But I also recognize that by doing that we disappear up our own arse and confuse people and then cant decide what to call what we do. By being an artist I have been able create things/spaces I would consider to be good for others and myself. Perhaps we have to stop worrying what we call it and just ‘crack on’ as my sister would say

Steve. That’s why I love you because you always say something, which makes me feel like art has value, and even though there are lots of things wrong with art, it’s more than a game- it matters.

On Life

Steve.  I’d like to quote Felix Guattari here and feel clever and radical but he is not in my old edition of my book of quotations. However while looking him up I did find this quote from Herve Guibert.

“An illness in stages, a very long flight of steps that led assuredly to death, but whose every step represented a unique apprenticeship. It was a disease that gave death time to live and it’s victims time to discover time, and in the end discover life.”

I haven’t got a clue what he was talking about but that’s art that is – and life and death.

Kate.  Of course you do, your just pretending to be stupid, that’s my job, you’re meant to be shit!  Seriously though art is about life, I think its something we were born to do – I don’t mean this in a wanky way but in a making way. Having spent yesterday in a house built in 1540, I was struck by the men and women before me with urges to make things, with abilities to learn skills and use them in a practical/decorative way and that that was their thing and it was trapped there. I suppose we have that, but instead of being at the forge hammering we are a product of art school and fine art and now respond to that apprenticeship.

Steve. Bloody hell Kate your on fire today – again you bring me back from the edge of the void – yes you are completely right I see it now – art is about life not death.

Kate. Yes

On Ruskin

Steve.  I think Ruskin really came up by accident – the Sheffield connection – it started off as just a vehicle to hang a project around.  Now he is a collaborator on the project.  I keep finding myself saying, “What would Ruskin do.” Apart from the urban myth about pubic hair I’m finding myself thinking more and more ‘I’m with Ruskin on that. Which both surprises and worries me.

Kate. I know you’re surprised but if we reflect on what he was on about in a social way it completely makes sense we agree with him. I think that’s why we are drawn to other artists or writers or architects or farmers or people who think this way – its why we like Small Change stuff.  In our way we are trying to use art to enrich lives, including our own and encourage others to flourish through opportunities. It always strikes me its a romantic gesture and that its impossible, but part of me clings to the hope that its true for some – the exposure to beautiful things will affect change. I suppose if I think about it too much though I would cry out of the inability to make massive differences or as I often say – to the save the world

On Studios

Steve I’m worried about this I’m not sure that I want a studio – I’m going to get a big tub of sand in it so I can stick my head deep into it when I’m there.  I’m worried about been in a place and making work – I’m worried about the material and the haptic, I’m worried about value- perhaps I’m just worried.

Kate Worrying is good. I don’t want or need a studio for making in, but I don’t think that was ever my intention of taking one of the Knutton Road spaces. I want the space to be useful for other things like the Poly or Paul or whoever to make stuff. What’s good about it for you though is an opportunity for you to go and think about the haptic and materials, as it strikes me you have a deep desire to make and yet you conceptually cant right that. I empathize with this and perhaps the question is “if its successful what does doing that do?”

Steve.  Thanks Kate I feel better now.