What are the main concerns of your practice?
A lot of my work focuses on investigating obscure histories, and engaging with them in a fictional way. I enjoy approaching these moments with an acknowledged subjectivity – as opposed to some impossible objectivity – that blurs the line between fact and fiction. I’m thinking a lot about confabulation, elaboration, exaggeration – ideas that condition a false testimony.
What are your influences?
Well, as you delve deeper into this mess of fact and fiction, you can pick up anything along the way – references to literature, music, film. For example, recently I’ve been focused on my own Irish ancestor, Violet Gibson. In 1926 she attempted to assassinate Mussolini, but she missed – she only shot his nose. This reminded me of Gogol’s ‘The Nose’ and Kovalyov’s obsession with losing his, and at the time there was a new production of Shostakovich’s adaptation of ‘The Nose’ on, with all these tap-dancing noses, so these ideas surrounding the given authority of the Nose were ignited by literary and musical influences. Also, studying in Italy last year was when I began to focus on my familial link to Mussolini. And each day, in the art academy, surrounded by all those classical marble sculptures, most of them noseless, noses left for the Nasothek…my experience in Italy must have led me here. Plus I was trying to learn Italian by reading Pinocchio – his dreaded nose! It feels at the time like these things are coincidences, but I must be seeking them out in some way.
What is the first thing you do in your process?
Usually I read. Actually, my research is quite formal at first, before the performances begin. I’ll let one reference lead me to another, but I’ll consider what argument it’s forming. Sometimes I consider my practice a kind of performance essay – with arguments that are not necessarily bound to reality, but can also be irrational. Well, I recently found the word essay has roots in the Old French essai, meaning attempt, try out. I think that’s what I do. I read and research, then use the performance to work out ideas. I don’t think it’s always important, or even possible, to come to the conclusion, especially when the arguments are so alien from reality, but it’s important for me to have that line of enquiry.
What do you enjoy most about the studio?
Our studio is great because we’ve organised more formal open studios, where we properly clean out the space for a curated show. It’s really useful for seeing how pieces work in different ways before exhibiting them. 24-hour access is the main thing I enjoy about studios. It means you can try things out off-peak without worrying about anybody walking in.
How has your work changed over the course of the degree?
Early on I was playing with fiction, but in a different way – inventing characters and worlds, and creating work ostensibly by these characters. It wasn’t until my year abroad I started involving myself in these narratives. When I first started thinking about Violet Gibson, I imagined a ‘Guylette Fibson’ – her reincarnation, as a kind of heteronym to make work by, as a way of negating my own artistic persona. She would make her own little drawings, plasticine sculptures, really bad puppet shows. Now I’ve moved away from these heteronyms in favour of an explicit familial link between myself and Gibson. I think this personal involvement happened as the work became more performative
What are your plans after graduation?
I’ll be at UCL from September, doing a PGCE in Art and Design.