Linking: auditory space as having no fixed notion. 

The difference between something that contains something, and does not. 

From within or without 

sound is a vibration, made from contact with an object 

sound can be malleable, it bounces off of reflective surfaces 

a mirage 

feedback mechanism 

the communication between two objects 

imprinting information as sound

embedded information 

what does it mean for something to be embed? 

how do we perceive information that is embed, inherit in something and what do we perceive based on what we see? 

the difference between seeing something, and not seeing 

the object as a vehicle of storage- things that contain what we can see and not see 

I was deciding whether or not to post my experiment online, especially since the attack in Paris coincided with my plan- but I decided to move forward to see how things unfold. When the incident took place last night, I immediately saw the ripple effect of people’s reactions streaming through the platform on facebook. Colors of red, blue, and white began flooding through the web. 

When terror strikes, the power of fear has the ability to consume people worldwide, as people easily sympathize with pain. 

All of a sudden, one’s mind and personal space can be immediately obstructed by an event- but more so through media’s coverage of an event that took place in real life. 

It seems as if the representation of an event becomes a separate form, from what physically occurred. 

Over the next few days, I’ll be observing people’s responses to the safe ‘space’ I’ve created, which co-exists in the same space of fear and loss occupied by a recent tragedy. 

Processing my thoughts:

When I look at the big picture, all of the sculptural ‘prop’ pieces I have been making all serve a certain function through which a specific action must be performed for each. I have never considered my interaction with these objects as a ‘performance art’ because to me, I see myself as having to bring ‘life’ into these objects by using it and touching it with my own hands.

Action’, and ‘space’ are the two common themes I keep referring back to. In a sense, I’m interested by the Inuit and their unique relationship with the environment: which is so barren and harsh. When you can no longer distinguish between the sky and earth, and your world becomes informed by one dominant color (white), a need to rely on other physical senses besides ‘sight’ to define one’s world grows.

“…Theirs is a world which has to be conquered with each statement and act, but which, with each act accomplished, is as quickly lost (Carpenter, 41).”

There is no system set in the Eskimo language to name things as they exist -but instead things (noun + verbs) are brought into existence. Everything is in a state of ‘being’/becoming. Edmund Carpenter describes their language as:

“…Words are like the knife of the carver: they free the idea, the thing, from the general formlessness of the outside. As a man speaks, not only is his language in a state of birth, but also the very thing about which he is talking (Carpenter, 43).”

So how does all of this information come into play in my own practice? What I know is that I resonate with the Eskimo’s relationship between the sense of ‘self’ and the environment. Their world consists of bringing things into existence because of a physical void that they encounter- and I find that very much similar to the way artists in the contemporary world (and myself included) bring creativity into this physical realm from what was once a ‘thought’. The mould and deckle I’ve been creating, the metal-ceramic coil infrastructure- all of this seems to become stationary pieces waiting for me to use, to realize an ‘action’. The moment I interact with these objects, an environment becomes to come into existence; one where which I become a central part to bringing these objects to life, to ‘being’. A space for me empty my thoughts and to reflect back upon the objects as I roll and unravel what I put through the coils, tear and wash to put through the deckle, and to physically release what was once in the deckle out to dry. 










The eskimo is not interested in scenery but in action

For nothing in their world easily defines itself and is separable from the general background. What exists, the Eskimo themselves must struggle to bring into existence. 

What does action mean to the Eskimo? In a land that seems void of anything, what do they gain from the environment- and in return what do they receive? Is the ‘struggle’ to make something out of ‘nothing’ translated into this idea of taking some form of physical action? 

The environment is a tradition of change, as change is part of tradition and a way of life. Our awareness, recollection, and experience is what shifts our concept and relation to the environment- constantly. 

‘Eskimo Realities’ by Edmund Carpenter has become a ‘totem’ piece in which I constantly go back to anchor my thought process. The visual and descriptive language used to decipher the way the eskimos perceive the otherwise barren environment interests me because it breaks up the traditional view most people conceive of physical space and time. 

“Aivilik do not conceptually separate space and time, but see the situation or machine as a dynamic process…their concept of space is not one of static enclosure, such as a room with sides or boundaries, but as direction, in operation (Carpenter, 31).” 

“Auditory space has no favoured focus. It’s a sphere without fixed boundaries, space made by the thing itself, not space containing the thing…always in flux, creating its own dimensions moment by moment (Carpenter, 35).”