Sachiko Abe, "Cut Papers"

Before we entered the room we were told to not make too much noise, and to take no photographs. I found myself imagining a small mouse like creature working away, shy and embarrassed at what they have found themselves doing. But instead I see a woman called Sachiko, sitting tall, above us all like Rapunzel, quiet and concentrated on the task at hand, the neverending task of cutting paper. The hypnotising task of cutting paper.
The paper sculpture that appears to be flowing up from the floor starkly contrasts the industrial environment to which the work is placed in. It makes the paper look even more delicate, like cotton wool. I found it interesting that it slightly resembled the shape of a tree, an organic shape, to which is the origin of the paper itself.
I enjoyed looking around the room, seeing the hidden secrets the cut papers had to offer, seeing how they were placed and how they made you feel, they made me imagine that all the clouds in the sky could be made from cut paper, and then I thought about the clouds falling from the sky because they were too heavy, which then lead me to think of how we would sensibly use all this paper, in hamster cages probably. I used to cut up tissue paper to use for my hamster's bed, this is what I ultimately thought of.
The sound of the scissors cutting away at the paper amplified made me feel uncomfortable, the sound of cutting reminded me of the few small cuts I'd had involving scissors, which I'm sure everyone has had once in their life. I wondered if she were secretly using safety scissors, like the ones given to children in primary school.

Only

I'm becoming less defined as days go by
Fading away
And well you might say
I'm losing focus
Kinda drifting into the abstract in terms of how I see myself

Sometimes I think I can see right through myself
Sometimes I think I can see right through myself
Sometimes I can see right through myself

Biennial Overview

Experiencing my first Biennial in Liverpool has overall been a positive experience. It's made me ask questions about myself such as would I ever want to create work like this and have it in this type of environment?
I feel that the Liverpool Biennial has had a positive impact on the city overall in that it's encouraging people in Liverpool to see art they otherwise might not have gone to see, art that's local and accessible to everyone.

It’s interesting to hear from artists first hand what their inspiration was behind their work and how it was created. It’s nice to listen to people who are recognised worldwide in the field of Fine Art and see that you can be successful.

On the other hand it’s also made me think about the type of audience you get when you’re viewing work in the Biennial. I often saw people questioning whether the pieces they were looking at was art, and I guess that’s all down to personal opinion. At first I was questioning whether this art was only really appreciated by artists because they have the most open mind, and whether I wanted my work to be appreciated and seen by a wider audience rather than just practicing artists.

I like that the work in Biennials helps promote communication between different countries, and it’s been eye opening to see the work produced from other artists of varying cultures, but I don’t think I could see at this point my work being in that type of environment. Somehow it feels as if my work belongs elsewhere, small places, on a wall in a house, or online, it’s hard to see my work in such a big event, hard to see myself being picked for such an event as big as the Biennial.

The other day I was looking on our fridge and saw the rules of a drinking game we played once, and remembered how I didn't want to play so that I didn't make a fool out of myself. It was then that I thought to myself, why do I always do that? Why do I never think, I could do that, I could achieve that. It's funny that something so silly as a drinking game told me that pretty much my whole life I've been settling for second best, never really aiming for the highest I can go. But really really thinking about it, would I want my work in the Biennial? I'm going to have to say no, although it's probably still a confidence thing.

Broke

You move your mouth
You shake your tongue
You vibrate my eardrums
You're saying words
But you know I ain't listening

Pressure

You're pushing me too far
And who will take the blame

Alfredo Jaar ,"We Wish To Inform You That We Didn't Know",

Sitting on the floor and watching the video installation telling stories of a tragedy I’d barely known about made me feel initially small. This was a type of art I’d never really come across before, sort of like a documentary. It made me question whether it was even art, whether the suffering of people documented could be considered to be art. Can art be anything we simply name to be art?

I agree that the video was powerful, and it was obvious by the quiet and people’s still, silent faces during the pause between the end and start of the replay that it touched them as well as touching me.

It made me feel guilty for not knowing much about what had happened in Rwanda, it made me feel small for not being able to do anything about it, and once again it brought up questions in my mind about our current government, whether they are actually able to live up to any promises they have made.

The video made me think about human life and how many people there are on the planet, how many people there are in the world that I will never know.

Often when I am walking down the street I realise how little I know of the world, how many strangers I see makes me realise that the world is bigger than my small family, somehow I wish I could know every one of the strangers I see, but I’m still in my own little bubble like everyone else.

I found the use of 3 screens really interesting, how he paused and repeated scenes on each screen to really let what was being said sink in. I also like where the video installation was placed and how dark it was in the room, it felt like almost a rustic environment when we were all jammed in. I think the music he used towards the end was just perfect and really helped to set a scene for the type of environment it was at the time in Rwanda, and how sad it was and still is to the people involved.

I think Alfredo Jaar’s video accomplishes the task of making us more aware of what happened, obviously the artist was interested and touched in what happened to go and look for answers regarding the tragedy, which I admire.

>1038 hours

Self portrait done from a recording of myself playing a competitive gaming match online.

Royksopp - Remind Me

One of those videos that reminds me of how small I am

Do Ho Suh, "Bridging Home"

I can’t count how many times I have walked past this work in town and have never paid it any attention. I feel the idea of the building being held up by two others fascinating but the way it has been executed questionable. When first looking at the slanted Korean style building I couldn’t help but think to myself that it was false, the way there was a blockade in front preventing us from getting too close to the work made me feel disconnected. I would have liked to stand underneath it, to feel what it was like to see a building over me that looked like it could fall down any moment. (Probably why the barricade was there in the first place) I feel that this may have made the work really push itself into the environment rather than being an obvious temporary structure. I think I wish that someone lived inside the building however impractical that would be, to bring the building to life.

I do like the work however, I like how the building is different to a lot of the buildings in town, how it is slanted and in a way I like how it is hidden between two buildings, part of me wishes it was more on display but another part of me likes the intimacy of it being almost hidden.

Zbyněk Sedlecky

"Airport", 200x140cm, 2010

Sedlecky's work shows that even in the broadest of brushstrokes you can create an immense atmosphere. The great cityscape subjects are by right given a large scale to be represented on, and I feel that it wouldn't have had the same impact on a smaller scale. As I walked into the room where his paintings were mounted I couldn't help but stop and look, to admire the colour and the shapes the brushstrokes formed in the appealing compositions. I could tell that other people felt the same way, with a queue forming in front and behind me of people staring at the work.
My favourite piece was definitely "Airport", as for me it really captured the essence of an airport and the brushstrokes confirmed the feeling of constant movement and busyness within it.

Time flies by

The quick strokes of the violins and cello still rung in my ears hours after the performance, I felt touched by the strange sounds alien to a person who constantly listens to heavy guitars. The artist showing his work accompanied by music that synced perfectly in time with the moving images, the quick shuffle between close and far away displaying the scale of the gigantic heavy sculptures made me feel like they were somehow more alive.
The sound of the rolling ball descending the spiralling multicoloured complex made me imagine one of his giant sculptures rolling around a canyon road, which made me laugh a little bit.
It felt like it lasted only 5 minutes, I think that is a good indication that I enjoyed the performance.

The Feeling of Art

My mum always respects art that has taken a lot of time to create and that takes skill and practice to make.
The last time we walked around the Walker Art Gallery she made many comments on the paintings she liked that the artist must have spent a significant amount of time on the piece.
In a lot of ways I feel the same way she does, I like work to be aesthetically pleasing or to make me feel something, something I often can't explain.
Perhaps I like the familiar, maybe I'm stuck in the past, I can try to understand a lot of work, but that doesn't mean I'll have an amazing attachment to it like many images I love that some people may only see as being a pretty piece lacking in meaning.
I like what I like I suppose. I'll probably grow out of it. I can already feel it happening.