I like simple, practical, emotional, quiet, vigorous art. I like the simplicity of walking, the simplicity of stones. I like common materials, whatever is to hand, but especially stones. I like the idea that stones are what the world is made of. I like common means given the simple twist of art. I like sensibility without technique. I like the way the degree of visibility and accessibility of my art is controlled by circumstance, and also the degree to which it can be either public or private, possessed or not possessed. I like to use the symmetry of patterns between time, places and time, between distance and time, between stones and distance, between time and stones. I choose lines and circles because they do the job. My art is about working in the wide world, wherever, on the surface of the earth. My art has the themes of materials, ideas, movement, time. The beauty of objects, thoughts, places and actions. My work is about my senses, my instinct, my own scale and my own physical commitment. My work is real, not illusory or conceptual. It is about real stones, real time, real actions. My work in not urban, nor is it romantic. It is the laying down of modern ideas in the only practical places to take them. The natural world sustains the industrial world. I use the world as I find it. My art can be remote or very public, all the work and all the places being equal. My work is visible or invisible. It can be an object (to possess) or an idea carried out and equally shared by anyone who knows about it. My photographs are facts which bring the right accessibility to remote, lonely or otherwise unrecognisable works. Some sculptures are seen by few people, but can be known by many. My outdoor sculptures and walking locations are not subject to possession and ownership. I like the fact that roads and mountains are common, public land. My outdoor sculptures are places. The material and the idea are of the place; sculpture and place are one and the same. The place is as far as the eye can see from the sculpture. The place for a sculpture is found by walking. Some works are a succession of particular places along a walk, e.g. Milestones. In this work the walking, the places and the stones all have equal importance. My talent as an artist is to walk across a moor, or place a stone on the ground. My stones are like grains of sand in the space of the landscape. A true understanding of the land requires more than the building of objects. The sticks and stones I find on the land, I am the first to touch them. A walk expresses space and freedom and the knowledge of it can live in the imagination of anyone, and that is another space too. A walk is just one more layer, a mark, laid upon the thousands of other layers of human and geographic history on the surface of the land. Maps help to show this. A walk traces the surface of the land, it follows an idea, it follows the day and the night. A road is the site of many journeys. The place of a walk is there before the walk and after it. A pile of stones or a walk, both have equal physical reality, though the walk is invisible. Some of my stone works can be seen, but not recognised as art. The creation in my art is not in the common forms – circle, lines – I use, but the places I choose to put them in. Mountains and galleries are both in their own ways extreme, neutral, uncluttered; good places to work. A good work is the right in thing in the right place at the right time. A crossing place. Fording a river. Have a good look, sit down, take off boots and socks, tie socks on to rucksack, put on boots, wade across, sit down, empty boots, put on socks and boots. It’s a new walk again. I have in general been interested in using the landscape in different ways from traditional representation and the fixed view. Walking, ideas, statements and maps are some means to this end. I have tried to add something of my own view as an artist to the wonderful and undisputed traditions of walking, journeying and climbing. Thus, some of my walks have been formal (straight, circular) almost ritualised. The patterns of my walks are unique and original; they are not like following well-trodden routes taking travellers from one place to another. I have sometimes climbed around mountains instead of to the top. I have used riverbeds as footpaths. I have made walks about slowness, walks about stones and water. I have made walks within a place as opposed to a linear journey; walking without travelling. Words after the fact. Five, six, pick up sticks Seven, eight, lay them straight [1980]
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your eyes are not listening. my ears are not looking around.
Five, Six, Pick Up Sticks
- dêuerrevêa . quinta-feira, março 26, 2009