Sometimes you must make a mess to tidy up. It happens when doing a big clear out. There is always a moment when you look around a room and wonder what the hell you’ve done. It was perfectly ok before you started tidying, if a little cluttered and dusty, and now it’s an epic mess with things scattered on every surface. It’s hard at that point to imagine it ever being tidy again or understand why you thought starting was a good idea.
I went to the aquarium last week for a project partners meeting. I was early and so thought I would visit the seagrass space. I wanted to remind myself of a few details and measure some walls.
When I got there, I discovered a giant mess.
The neat and tidy infographics and plastic seagrass were gone. In their place were blank walls and empty tanks. A new wall had been erected. Everything looked chaotic and a little broken. In our meeting the folks at the aquarium were in the middle of the “why did we ever start this” panic.
But the mess made me beam. And not just because there were people on display in the empty tanks.
It made me beam because I didn’t see the mess. I didn’t see the chaos. I didn’t see the complications. Instead, I saw only progress and potential. This is what I have been working towards for months. These walls are going to be transformed. The floor and ceiling are going to be transformed. The tanks are going to be transformed. It is no longer going to be a corridor, a space which children rush through to get to the interesting fish. It is going to be art.
When I was in Venice a few months ago I met a few of the people working for the Venice Biennale. They were about my age and worked in the events, publicity, and sponsorship departments. In telling stories about what they do, and after discovering I am an artist, one of them said: “Thank you for your contribution to culture, but it is chaos!”
It made me laugh hugely, and will be something repeated in my family, I am sure. It came to mind as I stood in the aquarium and saw the chaos I have wrought on route to art. To me this chaos is the preparation of the canvas, the armature inside a sculpture. This is what holds everything up, the foundation upon which it is built. I can see the work to come so clearly in my mind’s eye. But I can also see how, without my vision of the art I am creating, it would currently look and feel like chaos.
I have just under a month until the exhibition opens, just under a month to make sure my contribution to culture isn’t chaos, but rather an immersive seagrass installation, light and video and photography brought together to transform and transfix.
I will keep you updated…
Oh wow that os sounding good Roise. Xoxo