Sachiko Abe

I discovered this work by googling something probably completely unrelated...but I am so glad I found it, even though it is a shame that I did not see this work in the flesh. Abe has been cutting paper for nine years, the paper cutting is a precise measurement that gets thinner through the artist's bouts of depression. Cut Paper was a performance that lasted ten weeks at the 2010 Liverpool Biennial. Her scissors were connected to a speaker, so every cut was emphasised and significant. I was instantly reminded of Rapunzel, possibly due to my constant retreat to familiar stories of childhood. Without being able to see it, I don't know whether I would have found this performance calming or chilling, it seems to be so close on the border.

I keep getting called back to Bermuda, 1949

Lost

Recently I have been thinking more and more about the act of collecting things and how it is something I want to pursue more in my practice. After telling a few people about my tendency to keep dead wasps, moths and butterflies, I keep finding little envelopes of insect treasures turning up for me. Not just the insects I mentioned but flies and ladybirds, of different shapes and sizes. I never properly realised how beautiful the common fly actually is. What I love about these insects most is that once placed in a miniature worlds they become giants. And now I am starting to look around at other things to catch (well not catch as such, I don’t kill them they are found that way. I honestly could not kill a fly.) Let’s hope my house never becomes infested.

A Wendy House, A Shed and a Private View

I need to spend some time taking some decent photographs of these but a few quick snaps will do for now. The wendy house and shed (I sort of see them as one whole piece) were displayed in a cabinet alongside miniatures from Greyscale and Cornfield. I also dusted off a piece I made at university (a polymer clay dead baby bird) and I was surprised to hear some positive feedback on it. It reminded me to look back at old work more often. The image of a dead baby bird was the first sad image I remember seeing as a child. The cruelty of nature and the sudden realisation of my own (and more significantly other’s) mortality. I still found it beautiful though.

Exhibition at The Deaf Cat cafe 22nd August-3rd September

The miniature replica of my wendy house and some of my other work are currently being displayed at The Deaf Cat cafe in Rochester (kent). This is part of the West End Studios group exhibition. Photos to follow!

Recently I have been working on creating a miniature replica of my wendy house (the image to the left is not like the one I had but is lovely nonetheless) and a shed which has the same dimensions. The wendy house called to me whilst I was sorting through old photos (alongside rediscovering trips to botany bay). The wendy house, a place of play, where children (typically girls) can play 'adult' and become owners of their own home. A beautiful plastic home where the sun always shines-no double-glazed windows or double locked doors. The shed, which commonly shares the same structure as a wendy house, is fundamentally a shelter for adult's tools to preserve their home and garden. A place where children usually are not permitted.

I wanted the wendy house to look idyllic and precious, and for the shed to look a little unnerving. At first I was thinking of playing around with lighting and shadows inside the shed, or hanging objects that have a haunting look to them. But then I ran out of time. So I had to resist that urge, and create a shed that you can't see into instead. The viewer is also not permitted to enter.