20 feet to 20 inches
“Ramla, where do you store this stuff? I look at your past work and these thoughts return that I always have when I see these sprawling material practices. Questions of logistics? How does the artist store this, or move this from place to place, what are the histories of all these elements, how did they end up in your possession and part of an artwork.” Co-director wrote on September, 3 made me think about it. I have been ignoring this for so long because the answer to this question digs something from my past, which for some reason I don’t feel free to talk about. Yes it is a sad fact; it is one of the main reasons of me as an artist being on hiatus. Quitting or taking a break from art was not that easy. But I took this decision for many reasons.
I end up with my thesis project with a lot of appreciation. But sadly it was just the appreciation. It took me more than two months to build this huge piece, a lot of budget, a lot of manpower, uncountable sleepless nights, a number of restless days but this all ended up with just appreciation.
Nobody buys large scale sculptures, no gallery around the country unfortunately have that much space to exhibit huge work. A few of them who can, they probably don’t want to get into this mess of keeping large scale sculptures, the hassle of their transportation and installation.
After two weeks of thesis display I have to move back my work to my home. Luckily I have got a storage space which 90% of the artists don’t have actually. So I wasn’t that unfortunate. Anyways I have to hire a crane to move the iron armature of my work right from the college to my home. It took me and my friends five days to dismantle all the work, pack it up and load it in a truck separately in addition to the crane.
After that whenever I have written proposal for large scale installation to a gallery, nobody gave me a positive response. Eleven months back a gallery owner called me because she wanted me to put up my thesis project in an upcoming show. So, the whole process started again. Though have took one month this time, hired crane, labor, truck, have loaded my work, reached gallery, installed, got appreciated, dismantled the piece again, got home with the piece again.
Then I sit back and realized I seriously have no energy and money for all this now. I was heartbroken I have decided to quit. I started a 9am-5pm job at a software house on less than 150$. That was my first salary. I was happy because I have not earned, not even a single dollar from my art ever. But the happiness did not last long. I kept regretting of quitting art. Then I found a way out. I found an escape in digital art. Thought I was trailed as a sculptor but I have realized that my work could be transformed into photo collage and digital manipulation of my work. I kept documenting random objects on streets and roads and started producing digital work. I was glad that I have tried a new medium. But inside me my own whole world was just grey. I was doing it forcefully. That was not my way of working. I was a sculptor an installation artist. I was born to produce huge and large scale sculptures. So the journey of squeezing 20 feet sculptures to 20 inches digital prints came to an end. I end up with nothing but with a conclusion not to produce art anymore….. unless I find a gallery who could support me in shipping my work at least, unless I find a museum ready to take my work in their permanent collection, unless a find an art collector ready to keep large scale sculptures, unless I find something more than appreciation.
Ramla Fatima wrote on Nov 17:
Yup i totally agree marisa. i don't like the gallery culture and i am finding my way out.....
marisa wrote on Nov 11:
I, too, fell into the trap of making huge sculptures that couldn't fit inside anywhere. So after a break, I started making work particularly for the outdoors, And then, by a twist of fate, I got into public art for a short, yet rewarding, time. Instead of trying to gain the unrewarding appreciation of the gallery-going elite, my work shone outdoors, enlivening the daily lives of ordinary people.
Your work has its place, and you will find it, and yours,
but don't get boxed in by what gallerists want to sell.
co-director (m) wrote on Sep 30:
Thank you for this response, Ramla. (I had only asked 1/2 rhetorically, though I'm always curious about these things) And It is a curious thing, being an artist in this world were professionalism = being paid from one's labour, yet 99% of artists maintain other jobs to fund their work. as teachers, or illustrators, or waiters or whatever. So you are right and the appreciation - the discussion generated around it - becomes the key that sustains it. I think, this is one of the things that keeps me interested in art - as a phenomenon, that it defies this normal logic of supply and demand capitalism and where this scrunched piece of paper (http://www.martincreed.com/images/uploads/work88b.jpg) could be either an artwork or garbage depending on circumstances outside of itself. Or perhaps it is both art AND garbage, or perhaps its is neither. (In this example at this link its an artwork by Martin Creed)
I'm reminded of 2 quotes: The first in the Philosophy of Andy Warhol from A to B and back again, Andy says:
" I really believe in empty spaces, although, as an artist, I make a lot of junk. Empty space is never-wasted space. Wasted space is any space that has art in it. An artist is somebody who produces things that people don't need to have but that he—for some reason—thinks it would be a good idea to give them." Remember when Andy died his home was chock full of junk he had collected, cookie jars etc. But he was brilliant and he made and sold a lot of work which many people also feel is junk. (Anyway, you can read the whole book on line I believe - http://thephilosophyofandywarhol.blogspot.ca/2009/09/10-atmosphere.html)
The second quote is another work by Martin Creed, - "The Whole World + the Work = the Whole World" (http://bit.ly/2cGqnFn)
Perhaps you will make art again after your hiatus Ramla, I think art careers happen over decades and our relationships to our practice, the questions we are asking with it, changes over time.
Thanks for this.