CONNIE HOPE

Reflection on group critique lead by Julia Crabtree.

I was summoned by Tina O’Connell to detangle the details of my recent exhibited work, Hair Transplant.

My installation was received as an innately feminine representation of an all too familiar sight. Of course, it was a replica of tiled wall smeared with hair.

The abject reared its ugly head.

TATE describes the abject art as follows;

Abject art is used to describe artworks which explore themes that transgress and threaten our sense of cleanliness and propriety particularly referencing the body and bodily functions.

I want to threaten the abject. And to do so, I need to counter the appearance of bodily functions with something ‘less human’. Something without senses, or sentient senses for that matter. Alas, I want my work to retain the ability to present its self as bodily.

Amber Husain’s discussion on work, desire and the fear of being replaced in her essay ‘Replace Me‘ has informed my abject refusal of the value of sentience. Along with its viscerality.

I find myself in the realms of habitual disguise. My sculptures are formed by creating a false appearance for the object I’m working with. And in turn I am exploring what can pass as sculpture. It doesn’t have to be entirely convincing. Just the act of covering is enough.

Upon reflection, The Hair Transplant maquette was more successful than my exhibited piece, insofar as its tile to hair ratio. I don’t think this was solely due to aesthetics; the shapes the strands of hair made & how I could manipulate them.

It was a tiles unspoken promise of replication and replaceability that made the smaller version auspicious.

It is important to note an invaluable piece of feedback from my peers.

They concluded, a more efficacious demonstration would be to see the tiles as a multiplied presence of singular objects in an exhibition space.

A single tile here, another over there, and so on.

I took this as an invitation to observe in micro rather than macro.

Ultimately, the hair should take precedence over the materiality of the tile itself.

It’s clear now that my exhibited piece lacked the amount of human hair it needed to be fully disguised.

I was unsuccessful in the context of my own mission in my work – To conceal an objects validity.

(but how does a robot do in a select all boxes situation?)

I am attempting to materialise augmented human features and functions, still fluctuating in the uncanny valley of humans and things. This interplay remains important to me.

(But how do these things get into our lives? our thougts ?)

Upon reflection, and regarding the thoughtful comments of my peers, I now understand that I was naive to think that making a sculpture compiled of extracted samples from my body, wouldn’t be percieved innately feminine.

Its clear an automatic response to the literal representation of female body hair is an unrelieved narrative.

It connects the abject and the feminist by a hairs breadth.

I refuse to believe this is simply because female hair is deemed impure or inappropriate to view if its not in the right place. I.e – anywhere other than your head. Or in this case, on a replicated shower wall.