Here is the story of how a memory and a seminal artefact from my childhood became Real.
Mock-umentary (duration approx. 20 minutes), digital film and digital/AR memory object (Corduroy Dog). Directed and edited by Kelise Franclemont. Reading from “A Velveteen Rabbit” (1922) by Margery Williams.
Feature short coming soon (28 August 2019)!
A vital component of my art practice is finding ways to share my passion with others (outside of exhibiting my artwork or teaching, of course!) So when the opportunity to join Tate as a Volunteer Visitor Host came up, I said “yes!” immediately. I have always loved Tate since my first visit to Tate Modern in 2004 where I experienced Olafur Eliasson’s “Weather Project”, one of those life-changing artworks I’ll never forget.
Tate’s real “superpower”, though, is not just in this one artwork; their true strength lies in the impactful way of taking the viewer on a journey – it’s their ability to tell a story through the experience of art that I find compelling – and I wanted to be a part of that story. Also, my role as a Visitor Host is a great way to share my passion for art with other people whom I might not meet otherwise. It’s a real pleasure to help others enjoy Tate’s collection in variety of ways – it might be a chance conversation about a particular artwork, providing information about activities that day, or just guiding them through the 500 years of British Art.
The following text is a journal from two sessions as a sketch artist observing the rehearsal of the London Shakespeare Workout programme directed by Dr. Bruce Wall, where I aim to capture some of the live performers as they practice their craft in a most unexpected venue in London.
Article originally published on kelise soixante-douze (kelise72.com) – “Life drawing lessons with London Shakespeare Workout in their 20th year – London” – 18 December 2018. Here, I have updated the post with new images.
If you’ve read this one already, scroll down a bit or click 19 January 2018 to jump down the page.
15 December 2017
I arrived to the gate with my pens and sketchbook… waiting to be registered, checked off the list, given a visitor’s pass (to be worn at all times). Anticipating the day and a little bit nervous (I shouldn’t have read those articles the night before; someone died here, not too long ago).
Guided through a maze of corners, past the glittering Christmas tree, narrowly brushing by the incongruous painting which wouldn’t be out of place above a matching sofa …more corridors and locked doors… to room C3, splashed on all walls with the kind of colourful signs reminiscent of primary school, letters 25-cm high cut from cheery flowered paper, spelling out “food poisoning”, “Campylobacter”, “Clostridium perfringens”… A few empty paper cups are accompanied by bits of rubbish, untidy stacks of paper strewn about, mismatched chairs abide patiently in an haphazard circle. It’s pretty much a performance rehearsal space anywhere…
The musicians set up and began to practice, working out some of the more difficult cues. I found a table to lay out my pens, my sketchbook, all of us warming up our instruments…and waiting for
…the actors to arrive.
Four energies burst in all smiles and a handshake, Wayne shining confidence in a dancer’s step; Vlad his spirit gently glowing with firm purpose; Edwin, solemn, kind, a professor, a mentor, someone’s dad perhaps, in another life… Jacob with his whole soul in his eyes, not sad exactly, but something’s there, just behind the dignity and resolve.
Welcome to Pentonville.
After polite introductions all around, the actors begin to rehearse their lines of Shakespeare, drinking in stage direction from Dr. Bruce* like eager blooms sipping the rain after a day of too many fiercely rooted under the burning sun…
I tried at first to move my pen in time with the actors and saw many things too important to miss in a downward glance… my pen just stopped and started; it’s impossible to grasp a whole form so I am concerned only with the fleeting gesture of lines, a posture, and I focus on the between-moments
…self to character to self again.
Three more actors arrive, two whose names I can’t quite hear over the musicians testing the newest phrase, the first tall and well-met with the easy smile full of welcome, the second whose spirit, unlike the others, is a carefully guarded mask.
Still I’m not convinced by the tough-guy-i-don’t-care exterior, who pretends to be here for a change of pace – I can feel the gusto with which he gathers his why-not in a fist to shout in chorus “I’m free!” …and Daniel, a spark about to ignite… and I saw it happen when he became an old man, palsied and stumbling, unable to speak…around him courage swelled and defied all weakness, to help him raise his hand, grasping an imaginary torch that we all could see. And he is a hero.
I am surprised when the guys crowded around my table at the end, to check out my drawings, hoping to see themselves maybe… and I wish that I’d been able to capture more between my eyes, fugitive moments, and my pen, to portray each of the men before me: Wayne, Vlad, Edwin, Jacob, “all smiles”, the one I don’t know quite yet, and Daniel.
Each of them proud, confident, strong… powerful and vulnerable and brave…warm, open, funny, creative… and beautiful.
Daniel, shyly bold, asked me to draw him… not of vanity I felt, but of a desire to be viewed under a different light… I am humbled by his confidence in me, and I don’t know what to say, except that I’ll try. I’ll do my best.
On the tube journey home, I was afraid that my memory would fail me, even as I hurriedly corrected lines, filled in spaces, and scribbled notes…
My thoughts race to a pause…
These men…it’s not pity I feel for them….I don’t know what they’ve done to be locked up…it’s not my business, and I find I’m not even curious…
My job here today was not to know such things anyway, but to look and to really see.
Thanks to these seven inmates, actors, people for showing me the place you happen to be in now does not have to define you, your present, nor even your future.
Who do you want to be, you can be; now that is the question.
19 January 2018
There are no musicians today to accompany the scenes; it’s just myself and Bruce from the outside on the return to Pentonville. I’ve also recovered somewhat from my nerves; though I’m still not 100% used to the idea of being in a place with no way out for any length of time, at least I know what to expect here: register, visitor’s pass (to worn at all times), narrow corridors and plenty of corners, no Christmas tree this time, and more locked unlocked locked again gates.
Bruce and I both warm up, he with his script, I with my sketches, as we wait for the men to suddenly pour in all at once to C3, the same room as before.
Like my last visit, I am greeted warmly by familiar and friendly faces, with a few new ones, and am glad I had, in the weeks previous, attempted to sketch outline portraits from memory; all the guys seemed pleased to have been remembered even imperfectly (although there was some comedic debate as to whether or not I had gone too far with the lace collars and “men in tights” costume ideas borrowed from the 16th century).
Knowing the impossibility of describing anyone in hastily scribbled ink, always moving, pacing, gesticulating, I chose pencil instead to observe the actors sitting away from centre stage, still for moments at a time, heads bowed, awaiting cues, or mouthing their lines.
I couldn’t guess why the mood today was one of familiar ease (after all, most men had been an artist’s subject many times before), yet still detectable was a faint thrum of tension. Later, this undercurrent of nervous energy is explained when I am astonished to learn that the actors were due to perform their piece for an audience in a few days’ time – with only the equivalent of about a week of rehearsals over the same number of lines for which outside companies would possibly take months.
Back in my sketchbook, Daniel is my momentary subject, yet I can not quite get his likeness; he seems so youthful, hardly containing an excess of energy as he recites his lines, yet on my paper is inscribed a soul that has weathered more years than would be admitted by his actual age.
Abruptly, it’s a good thing that our time has just run out, as the portrait version of Daniel is rapidly approaching octogenarian. It’s as if my eyes and my pencil obdurately insist on seeing different things.
Giving up for now, I pack up my supplies and it’s back through umpteen gates (locked unlocked locked again), more corners and corridors, the visitor’s pass is returned, and I am glad to join the city air and waning sunshine again.
“Prayer for Rain“, an installation of copper, hologram, and sound is part of “Stations of Water” exhibition, with nine contemporary artists commissioned to create artworks, including sculpture, painting, installation, and film, in conjunction with justwater2017.org, at St. Paul’s Cathedral, London. From 25 September to 27 October 2017.
A single drop of water which seemingly emanates from the copper basin on the floor, travels up the pipes, to be released skywards one precious drop at a time.
It is through faith that this drop becomes the carrier of hope, as it gently floats upwards in glittering repose, taking with it prayers within all of us, whether we are creatures of land or sea.
Along with the simple act of faith in raising one’s gaze to the sky, actual “water prayers” from all over the world can be heard, beseeching whomever will listen, to revere this priceless life resource, seek rescue when we are overwhelmed, or beg relief from the peril when the rains won’t fall.
Click to view/download “Prayer for Rain” exhibition map/guide:
Exhibition details: “Stations of Water” opens 25 September through 27 October 2017 at St. Paul’s Cathedral and crypt, St. Paul’s Churchyard, London, EC4M 8AD. Paid entrance; step-free access.
Please note the exhibition is included with paid entrance to St. Paul’s Cathedral during sight-seeing hours:
Monday to Saturday
8:30AM to 4:00PM (last entrance)
Special thanks are owed to voice-over artist Vicky Tessio (for sharing her lovely voice on the soundtrack by reciting two Catholic prayers in Spanish) and to author and director of Library for Gaza, Mosab Abu Toha (for sharing his poem “Dejected they stand…” which appears on the hologram prism).
“Salat ul-Istisqa’a [Prayer for Rain]” is a response to the number of documentaries from 2013-2016 about the irreversible water crisis in Gaza. 2020 is rapidly approaching, the year when experts fear that the fresh water supply in the region’s underground aquifers will be damaged beyond repair. Even now, experts fear the worst has already happened as ordinary people who live, work, and raise families within view of the Mediterranean, are dying of thirst.
“This [water] is diseased,” she gestures, “we can’t drink it or use it for cooking.”
“There’s nothing to do. We are tired of this.”
“Salat ul-Istisqa’a [Prayer for Rain]” is part of “Water Stations” an exhibition in which seven artists convene to honour World Water Day with sculpture, installation, film, and painting, at Emmanuel Church in West Hampstead from 19th through 31st March 2017.
Reposted from ConnectKatowice.com, the following describes a recent and ongoing arts collaboration with Polish artist Marcin Czarnopyś…
One late afternoon in November, Marcin and Kelise wandered into an old bookstore in Wrocław’s main town square. A book, dated 1856 on the ragged spine and gently reeking of cigar smoke, fell into Marcin’s hands: “Neueste Nachrichten aus Dem Reiche Gottes”, or as Google Translate suggests: “Latest News from the Kingdom of God” by Bierzigster Iargang. As we thumbed through the contents, a postage-stamp sized portrait of a woman fluttered from between the pages:
Intrigued and 40 złoty poorer, the book was ours.
Who was Bierzigster Iargang? (We called him “BJ” for short). The final pages of the book revealed some of his story:
BJ was born in Przemyśl (Marcin’s home town!), to a German/Polish family that owned several coal mines in the Silesian area. A religious and righteous man, yet troubled by the corruptions that accompany great wealth, BJ received a series of heavenly visions over the course of a year – which he called, “Neueste Nachrichten aus Dem Reiche Gottes (Latest news from the kingdom of God)”, wrote them all down and published in a book of the same title. This was directly followed by a spiritual calling to go to New York (where Kelise’s family originates) as a missionary, and he traveled to America around 1856-7, leaving his wife and six daughters behind until he could get settled and send for them to join him.
But in New York, he seems to have disappeared, presumed dead, shortly after he arrived and his family never heard from him again.
Our project aim is to unravel the mystery about the life and death Bierzigster (BJ) Iargang, and to discover the truth about what connects his story to Marcin and Kelise.
Currently we are working with an installation of found objects, text/prints, photos, and video which will present our research into BJ’s life as well as present the found connections between him, Marcin, and Kelise, (and particular, the artists want to unpick already discovered common ancestry between Marcin and Kelise).
Click the link for more about the collaboration between Marcin and Kelise – “stories between the UK and Poland”
At first glance, this is simply a different way of drawing, in which I am performing the act of drawing, but not making the marks with my hands, but rather with my feet. I.e, By carrying a smartphone whilst exercising, through use of an app called Nike+Running, I create a recording of the activity – the route, the distance run, and the time elapsed from start to finish. Thus, the running activity is recorded as a line drawing superimposed over the satellite imagery of the location.
I made the gesture, the movement with my body, and Nike+Running software made the mark.
At another level, these drawings question the agency and intention: who really is the author here?
These abstract images are also about recording and memory in that, much like marks on paper, these digital drawings are the only record of my having been there at that moment, in that place. But wait… current technology and insta-culture allows another means to state “I was Here”… through a smart phone and social media.
Symbols begin to emerge from abstract shapes, asserting themselves with hashtags…suggesting a deeper meaning, they try to become something more than just the length of a line… a starting point, an ending point, a shape, an object, an animal…
Have a look at the digital slideshow of the Instagram drawings on Vimeo [6:19 minutes, looped] – as displayed on an iPhone 6/6s
Kelise Franclemont and Antonia Jackson explore memory, travel, and passage of time through paintings, installation, and new media. Throughout each day, along with the exhibition of artworks, Antonia and Kelise will engage visitors in trading memories and creating new ones in an ongoing make-one/take-one souvenir postcard exchange.
“Fragments and Traces: l’invitation au voyage” is in conjunction with Wandsworth Arts Fringe 2016, a festival of creativity and performance throughout the borough from 6 to 22 May 2016.
One subsequent weekends at Platform 1 Gallery are two more shows: “Transcending” from artist Ema Mano Epps with Verica Kovacevska and Norman Mine, and finally, “Fragment” by sculptor Anna Flemming.
Click the flyer below to see more details:
Event details: “Fragments and Traces” presents during Wandsworth Arts Fringe 2016 from 5 to 8 May 2016 at Platform 1 Gallery on Wandsworth Common Station, Platform 1, Wandsworth Common, London SW12 8SG (entrance to the station and Platform 1 Gallery from Jaggard Way). Free admission, step-free access.
Private View: Thursday 5 May, 5:30 to 8:30 pm
Opening hours:
Friday 6 May, 12:00 pm to 6:00 pm
Saturday 7 May, 11:oo am to 5:00 pm
Sunday 8 May, 11:00 am to 5:00 pm.
It’s a pop-up show in the CG05 corridor (near the part-timer’s base room) in which each of us takes one locker and curates an exhibition in the 30 x 30 x 43 cm cubby. It is a response to the locker as a space, a container, a set of limitations, boundaries, a wish granted, or some other response.
Of course, there are only 20 lockers and almost 30 people in part-time 1 & 2 group so this might also turn into an exercise in negotiation, compromise, and teamwork!
What I propose is 1-2 (or more) people choose a locker, and put an object in or installation… and then place a padlock on the door (for safety). During the exhibition, the lock is enigmatically left on or perhaps the door is left wide open for uninhibited viewing.
Exhibition details: a pop-up residency and exhibition (18 – 25 June 2015) in 20 lockable spaces, located in CG05 corridor, at Chelsea College of Arts, 16 John Islip Street, London, SW1P 4JU
17 Chelsea MA students (12 MA Fine Art, 5 MA Curating & Collections) enter into a week-long cooperative exhibition in which the curators, who see the show for the first time mid-week, will reconsider curation and transform the space. The project is an experiment which aims to “…challenge the ‘occupancy’ inside the regimented frameworks” such as may be found in the academic or gallery setting. From 7-10 April 2015 at Chelsea College of Arts.
Read more about ‘Housed’ on kelise72.com…
The basis of Housed: was about the relation (some might say “hierarchy”?) between artist and curator, firstly in a gallery/exhibition setting, secondly in academia. In the first half of the week, the dozen artists installed the show, collaboratively of course, installing their work with consideration for the siting as well as “conversations” between the nearby pieces.
Learn more about the project and how it evolved on the ‘Housed’ blog…
My proposed work, ‘memoirs of a stone (Part I – The flight from Hyrcania)’ was an installation of drawings on paper, a short looping film with sound, and several found objects, most importantly, a small piece of red shale about 1 cm big.
In the first part of week, a writing desk was situated in the doorway, a small intimate space which may inspire quiet reflection as the viewer may pause and read or handle the drawings. Further along in the exhibition in the next room, one might come across the small red stone on a black velvet jewel block, positioned on the floor.
Mid-way through the week, the curators came into the project with a fresh perspective to re-hang the work, possibly creating new conversations and altering the “flow” of the exhibition overall.
‘Memoirs of a stone’ was relocated to another room entirely, which somehow “opened up” the work in a positive way. The little stone, placed next to Paul Abbott’s work (the video/busts on plinths – left image) somehow crystallised for both works the reference to Greco-Roman era, with busts on plinths and the Roman-era mosaic tile. Then the writing desk, even though in a more open space, still allowed for intimacy placed in the corner, adjacent to a large airy window.
For many of the artists, the re-curation improved the flow and openness for the exhibition overall, and opened up each work to have more “breathing space”, a marked positive change. If nothing else, the project allowed for a different way to see and experience the works in this very successful week.
This is the second version of “Dreams of the Rat Race 2 (No Exit)”, a short looping video [15:03] in which I engage with this office space as my memory of my own prior office career… That 20 years always felt like kind of a trap, or like Sartre’s “no exit”… The viewer can be part of this nightmare; as they stand in front of the projection, their shadow becomes included in the memory of that former life…around and around never really getting anywhere… this time, there is a running course marked in the circuit of approximately 330m. The viewer goes ’round and ’round and occasionally, another runners appear in the frame.
Exhibition details: “Office Sessions III” is at Anchorage House, 2 Clove Crescent, E14 2BE (East India on the DLR).
“Office Sessions III” is open to the public on all three floors (4-6) on the following dates:
Please note there is also a performance piece by Kelise Franclemont scheduled on this date from 11AM, “Right to Movement Rat Race (an exercise in subjectivity and space)”, so look out for the marathon runners (and maybe stick around to cheer them on)!
A group of runners will pace around and around and around this uncommonly short course (of approximately 330m) in order to make up the marathon distance of 42K. Some people sign up for runs like this for the challenge, or to achieve a particular fitness goal; others have nothing better to do on a Sunday afternoon.
What else happens besides work in the workplace? Outside the norm when the conventions of behaviour are relaxed for a while. A ritual that acts as a pressure valve. Making the mundane tolerable.
— Adam Zoltowski, artist and curator of “Office Party” (12 Nov – 5 Dec 2014)
This particular race is a response to the site itself…a circular office would be a perfect (and perfectly ridiculous) race track demonstrating and documenting (thru video and still image), the silliness that is running for 4-6 hours at a time (marathon runners have to be a bit mad no?) as well as the silliness that is containing this 42km in a 350 metre track (130 laps, give or take)…
A number of people from the Right to Movement running club have been invited to participate, as a sort of preparation for the upcoming Palestine Marathon in Bethlehem, which sees runners going around a necessarily abbreviated course multiple times because an enormous concrete wall prevents a single circuitous route of 42K.
At the same time, this race would be reminiscent of “the rat race” that this office space once embodied; the endless cycle of getting up, going to work, “making a living”, coming home, sleep, get up again next day, and start again. Over and over. Another kind of madness…
Suddenly this race becomes an experiment in the subjectivity of time and place…there will be no markers along the course to indicate distance, nor will there be a race clock, leaving the runner to decide: when is enough, enough.
What was the point of this “good cause” marathon, we all wondered… a race in which we clamour for attention, look at me doing good things, yet at the end, almost no one would bear witness but the runners themselves? An expression of the artist trying once again to be noticed, to be seen as working hard, striving determinedly to be recognised for her passionate sincere goodwill… soon easily forgotten as a near-nothingness. All that hard work for nothing changed at all. Isn’t that what much of activism feels like, a rush of runner’s high followed by numbness and forgetting as soon as a shiny new start-line banner is unfurled, and the next race is called.
Exhibition details: “Office Sessions III” is at Anchorage House, 2 Clove Crescent, E14 2BE (East India on the DLR).
“Office Sessions III” is open to the public on all three floors (4-6) on the following dates:
Please note there is also a performance piece by Kelise Franclemont scheduled on this date from 11AM, “Right to Movement Rat Race (an exercise in subjectivity and space)”, so look out for the marathon runners (and maybe stick around to cheer them on)!
(if video doesn’t auto-play, click to watch vimeo here: https://vimeo.com/112634742 )
Dream of the Rat Race 1 (No Exit), 2014, projected digital video, 2:23 (looped)
A short looping video in which I engage with this office space as my memory of my own prior office career… That 20 years always felt like kind of a trap, or like Sartre’s “no exit”… The viewer can be part of this nightmare; as they stand in front of the projection, their shadow becomes included in the memory of that former life…around and around never really getting anywhere…
curated by Adam Zoltowski
Exhibition details: “Office Sessions III” is at Anchorage House, 2 Clove Crescent, E14 2BE (East India on the DLR).
“Office Sessions III” is open to the public on all three floors (4-6) on the following dates:
Please note there is also a performance piece by Kelise Franclemont scheduled on this date from 11AM, “Right to Movement Rat Race (an exercise in subjectivity and space)”, so look out for the marathon runners (and maybe stick around to cheer them on)!
The centuries-old coffee ritual is a custom of deep cultural significance, where this rich dark drink, often served with dried dates or other sweetmeats, is a traditional gesture of warm welcome offered to all guests who happen by. An old Middle Eastern proverb goes something like, “A single cup of coffee creates a friendship that lasts for 40 years”.
My first taste of Arabic coffee was nearly 25 years ago, by the hand of a Palestinian woman who is also my friend. What fond memories I have of the many enjoyable hours accompanied by these tiny cups, and not long after that first afternoon, how proud I was to serve from my own ibrik, a very tasty and authentic “qahweh arabiya” to make my Palestinian husband feel right at home.
It’s many years later, and those friends are miles away in a time that was decades ago; nonetheless, they are never far from mind and even now, I often crave this delicious drink, stirred with so many memories.
In ‘arabic coffee’, I have appropriated this beautiful act of hospitality again as my own, in order to explore an aspect of my personal identity as I create a moment that is enriched by sharing in which I invite guests to share a cup of coffee and a conversation with me, making memories with new friends and old.
‘arabic coffee’ is part of ‘Collaborationem’, a group exhibition at St Saviour’s Church, Pimlico, from 3-6 July 2014.
