ART&RESEARCH


A Journal of Ideas, Contexts and Methods

Volume 1. No. 2. Summer 2007
ISSN 1752-6388



Bryndís Snæbjörnsdóttir/Mark Wilson

In conversation with Steve Baker and Ross Birrell (04/05/07) (Continued)

On Methodology

SB: I think methodologically one of the things that’s interesting about a number of your projects is the range of negotiations with other people that are involved, not only in terms of those ones that may play quite a significant part in the final outcome, whether in terms of things people are writing for you or in terms of your negotiations with particular galleries and so on, but all the phoning around to find out the location of the polar bears in the first place, or the phone calls to the general public in the Fly project - where you’re, I presume, at that point essentially trying to negotiate whether you can get access to their houses to take those photographs to talk to them about their pets - through to other quite different kinds of negotiation, like with the copy editors at Black Dog and so on.

MW: In many ways they are fundamental to the practice, that inclusion and inclusiveness and the acknowledgement of not only just the power that people have to enable the smooth running and the project itself actually but also the knowledge the other specialist or the other people in the project have that we just absolutely need. So it’s actually the necessity for the inclusion of those other people which I think drives or gives the projects - both in terms of concept but also far more in specific detail - their shape, in terms of the knowledge and the access that they can provide.


SB: In terms of the inclusivity that you’re talking about, how did that come into your work? Because it’s clearly there in the Big Mouth project in terms of the interviews you were doing, for example, that played quite a major part in the gathering of information that was going to be relevant and the interviews themselves playing a part in the exhibiting of the work at Tramway. Did your work develop in that direction when you discovered that you were actually quite good at and quite comfortable with that contact with a lot of other people, or did it start with your thinking well, we want to do projects of this kind so we’d better actually develop these skills of interaction with a whole range of different people? I’m assuming that part of the answer may lie in work either or both of you were doing before you started working together.

MW: We were both going through a shift in terms of practice. But certainly in terms of your [Bryndis’s] experience, you were working very much with socially-engaged practice through teaching and I think increasingly over a period of five or six years we were both looking towards that.

BS: I think we both were at the stage, in different ways, where we felt the practice was becoming quite insular. And so there was a deliberate attempt to reach out, and also just asking questions. For example, I had one year in which I had the Scottish Arts Council Visual Arts Award which I basically used to ask myself a lot of questions about my practice, one of them being not only ‘what kind of work do I want to make?’ but ‘what do I want the work to give me?’ Because how do you sustain a practice if there isn’t something that comes back that’s meaningful to you; so it was to find a way how the practice can also fulfil a desire to inform you in a certain way.

SB: So what kind of work were each of you doing at the point that you started to think that the work wasn’t answering the things you wanted it to be doing?

BS: I don’t know if that’s so important, but I guess what we have brought to it is a shared interest in the environment which we were both working with and I’ve always been interested also in this notion of territory through colonisation and migration and so on.

MW: And also through language and how experience is constituted and shaped by language. We process ideas of environment through that vehicle and how they become the experience in many cases. And curiously enough, just in respect of that, when we actually began to work together, we’d both recently been working with things which almost had a hybrid use and manipulation of language with a very different outcome or result, but there was that desire, in a sense, to explore what we know as liminal areas, areas of uncertainty, and play with that idea. But in relation to the Big Mouth project, which is our first, I guess, full-on project which could be said to be socially engaged, we had an Arts Council Fellowship in Australia and we just needed information basically, and having realised what we wanted to be the focus of our research, it became clear at a very early stage that a lot of people had very, very different sorts of things to say about this single subject which was this thylacine [Tasmanian tiger] and that in itself just seemed absolutely compelling and we just followed it; we interviewed a range of people who each felt equally passionate about this thing for very different reasons.


BS: I think it’s also because through all my practice I’ve always worked with what’s relevant to use and work with. So you come to doing things in plaster or ceramics or whatever, not knowing very much about it, and the same applies to talking to zoologists in museums. It is a similar process to making something in a material. You mould your clay and engage in a silent dialogue with it but when it comes to socially-engaged practice, someone is actually speaking back to you.

SB: On that ‘speaking back’ idea, one of the things I was really struck by and I spoke to a couple of people about it out at Penn State, was that in the long version of your presentation that you were able to do there, where you’re talking about the Big Mouth project, at one point you showed part of the black and white film, the silent film, and - it was an absolute revelation really, because I’d not seen anything quite like it happen in a presentation of that kind at a symposium before - where previously the audience had been sitting there listening to you and you’d been talking and presenting ideas and presenting images, at the point where the silent film goes up and you stop talking, the audience immediately start talking amongst themselves, trying to identify what kind of animal it is that’s being held up in the shot there; essentially a conversation erupted within the audience that was…

MW: … In direct response to a silent conversation on the screen.

SB: … Yes, yes.

Top of next column

MW: Yeah it was nice that actually, because it was a sudden real, palpable participation.

SB: Yes - in my experience, of a quite unconventional kind.

BS: I think it was not only important that it was during the silent film that the conversation happened, it was also in relation to these images: it’s very much about the relationship between the respective animal specimens and these two people handling them in different ways. Because it was black and white and in slow motion, it worked in a meditative, possibly reflective way on the audience which encouraged them to enter into that space of discussion between themselves. This was a very, very great opportunity because that’s in a sense something we didn’t have the opportunity to observe in the show in Tramway because this film was amongst other elements in the installation.

One and Three Bears: nanoq and Joseph Kosuth

BS: I also think it’s quite interesting in terms of the methods we apply to the practice in relation to art history and I keep coming back to a very early piece by Joseph Kosuth called One and Three Chairs. I remember the first time I saw it, it had a huge, impact on me. I thought, this is art in a nutshell, it’s everything art ever has to be. When you think about our practice today, it has a lot of these components in it, but it’s also very different: spatially, over time and over locations; but still, there is t the meaning, it’s the image and it’s the definition.

MW: … And the object.

BS: Yes.

MW: In relation to the photographs, that was very much that dynamic, because it was always the photograph with the provenance, and so you have the image in the environment and the text and they can’t replace each other: in three very different ways they constitute a whole.

BS: A dialogue, yes.

RB: The Kosuth reference is quite interesting, because I remember seeing reproductions of that work and thinking it was a very dry, academic piece of conceptual art and I’d moved towards not liking it from initially liking it. But when you referred to it again in relationship to nanoq and this approach of displacement, which maybe brings up the question of overcoming the sense of re-presenting the real in some naïve fashion. Because it’s not a kidnapped polar bear from the museum on its own, it’s the kidnapped polar bear and the photograph, and not only the photograph, it’s the photograph alongside it’s provenance and the textual history narrating that. For Kosuth I think it’s about form and meaning and the structure of how we cannot access reality, whereas I think in the nanoq piece - although I have to confess this is coming at it through the documentation of the book, and the role that the book plays in all this is another aspect of it - there’s something more critically engaged because perhaps the stakes are suddenly shifted in relationship to the animal and the question then of what it reflects back on the understanding of what it is to be human. I don’t think that power is evoked through the chair with Kosuth.


BS: I do get what you’re saying and I think that is very true, but I don’t think we can just take something like a chair for granted. I mean if you look, for example, at the definition of a chair in a dictionary from English, Icelandic, French, German you’ll have different definitions of a chair; some have got backs, some have got arms, etc. And if you go in different cultures, a chair can become something completely different. So I don’t think it’s just a chair, a clearly defined object and maybe more so now.

SB: I was interested when you raised that example as well and one of the things it made me think about is that I’m interested that you, Ross, used the word dry in relation to it, because that was also the word that I had in mind. That although I wouldn’t in any sense choose to label the kind of work that you two are doing as conceptual art, it does interest me the way in which some people in recent years have looked at some work from the 1990s onwards as a further phase of conceptual art and it seems one of the key differences from those classic works of the late 60s early 70s is that it isn’t so dry and, I don’t think it’s a particularly useful label to put on something like Damien Hirst, but I mean sometimes that has happened and the actual materials that he’s working with, whether it’s the shark or anything else, aren’t dry in the way that a chair kind of is. I suppose what I’m trying to say is, what happens if we take that level of scrutiny and genuine curiosity that always characterised a lot of the most interesting conceptual art and apply it to issues that appear to more obviously - or more explicitly - matter in the world?

MW: I think Kosuth was establishing a baseline in a sense and as much investigative definition as anything.  And in that sense, the academic feel or you know the dryness is absolutely appropriate and strategic in essence. And through the very different reference or mobilisation of perhaps some of that triangulation, which is absolutely integral in relation to nanoq, it’s not about establishing the definition. By using a number of different kinds of methods of representation, but insisting and privileging none of them, something happens as a consequence of those three things sparking in the imagination of the viewer.

SB: Two things come to me there, one is that a key difference between your work and Kosuth’s position back then is of course that he’s the person who quite explicitly comes out and says ‘why should art need an audience, any more than science needs an audience, or mathematics needs an audience?’ And the whole success of your work, in a way, is about engaging an audience and getting people to actually think about issues, not just an audience in the sense of looking at the work but actually taking those ideas away and seeing what happens as a result. But there was a second thing, and I was interested Mark in what you were saying about these different aspects to the work and you’re not privileging any of them over the other, I think one of the difficulties that I have, and it’s my difficulty rather than your difficulty, with the nanoq project is that I can never quite get over thinking that, in the end, the installation at Spike Island was the real centre of that project because the bears were actually there. It wasn’t the various interesting photographic projects and juxtapositions in natural history collections and so on, it wasn’t the book which holds the whole thing together. Those are interesting in their own way but there was something with the presence of the bears at the Spike Island, their actual presence, that for me absolutely is the centre of that project. And yet I think I’m trying to cling on to something there that you, more interestingly, have let go of.

Continued ->


CONTENTS

Editorial

Chantal Mouffe

Jan Verwoert