What happened.
The experience took over and blogging went out the window that's what! However, a retrospective of some description seemed fitting, retrospectively. All in all there were 12 days, days filled with laughter, sweat, turmoil, magic and deep fried food. It's true to say that Edinburgh festival is sort of like a dreamland, so many people gathered together in the hope of expanding their horizons and showing their creative output to the world and his dog.
As the days went on and we got into the rhythm of putting up shows, things shifted and morphed and you could see the tiredness on faces dissolving into delirium, brain cells grasping for functionality. Yet these were the best days, when we had been stretched the most, because you could really feel the sense of achievement. It is surprising what can be achieved when people work together, I really felt that, and how beneficial it can be for all concerned. It was cool.
Throughout my time in Edinburgh there were so many good times, but it was as the festival drew to a close that one of my favourite moments came to pass. Walking through the park one morning there was a man dressed as a gorilla playing the drums. Just there on his own, not seeming like he was performing to anybody, it was as though we might be invading his space, that he was just glad the festival was over so he could get back to his day job.
On that note, I must sadly return to my day job and the realities of the usual life. Send your thoughts of what I can write about/do next to hellostevemartin@gmail.com. Would you like to read some of my poetry perhaps. Or could I go on a sixteen year expedition of the outer hebrides? Only you can decide. Wait a minute that doesn't seem fair can't I decide?! No? You're such a cruel bastard.
hellostevemartin@gmail.com
Tuesday, 6 September 2011
Saturday, 20 August 2011
Edinburgh Festival Day 4
OK, I missed a day. Day 3 to be precise. The reason... the consumption of alcohol, nothing more, nothing less. Mostly due to peer pressure, but then again that's not an excuse. The guys I'm working with are a brilliant bunch of lads, and I suppose they felt the need to induce me into the ways of the festival technician by plying me with booze. Fair play really. I had such good intentions to start with: getting up for morning runs, being alert, eating well. Oh how one diversion on the road of life can change ones feelings. Today has been a painful awakening as I realise just how tough these folks are to go out on the lash until 3am and then work a 14 shift the next day with hardly any breaks... and I only went out once! they've been doing it every night since we got here.
With a weary head I will take myself to bed, but also with the knowledge of a brighter day tomorrow. Most of the shows we have brought will be kicking off tomorrow for real, after 3 days of setting up, so it's an exciting time for everyone at Summerhall and BAC.
With a weary head I will take myself to bed, but also with the knowledge of a brighter day tomorrow. Most of the shows we have brought will be kicking off tomorrow for real, after 3 days of setting up, so it's an exciting time for everyone at Summerhall and BAC.
Thursday, 18 August 2011
Edinburgh Festival Day 2
The end of day two and there is a large tired elephant sitting on me. The tired elephant of a hard day's work. It feels good, if slightly numbing and it makes movement quite an effort. Today we started setting up a show called 'Rotating in a Room of Images' by Lundahl & Seitl. It was my first real experience of a 'get in' on a show, and whilst hard physical work it was incredibly satisfying. Working together as a team to create something, coming across problems and solving them, all amongst an atmosphere of joviality and mildly perverse banter. What more could one hope for on a Thursday?
The rain continues to come down in spits and spats, though the weather forecast now says there will be sun in the next days. We can but hope. I managed to drag myself out of bed and take a run around the park this morning, which is unusual for me, something that does not occur on an average day at home. I often find that being away allows me this sense of freedom from my normal routine, allows me to be a part of myself I cannot always access. It feels good to be that person.
It is interesting that my recent obsevations about fear have come up in conversation this evening. Two people who I work with and respect very much said they need fear, to drive them, keep them alive and excited. Without it they become bored and sad and demotivated. I wondered if that could be the element I have been missing in my own life recently, that a feeling of dissatisfaction could actually come from not having enough of the scary challenge and breadth of life that keeps us moving.
The rain continues to come down in spits and spats, though the weather forecast now says there will be sun in the next days. We can but hope. I managed to drag myself out of bed and take a run around the park this morning, which is unusual for me, something that does not occur on an average day at home. I often find that being away allows me this sense of freedom from my normal routine, allows me to be a part of myself I cannot always access. It feels good to be that person.
It is interesting that my recent obsevations about fear have come up in conversation this evening. Two people who I work with and respect very much said they need fear, to drive them, keep them alive and excited. Without it they become bored and sad and demotivated. I wondered if that could be the element I have been missing in my own life recently, that a feeling of dissatisfaction could actually come from not having enough of the scary challenge and breadth of life that keeps us moving.
Wednesday, 17 August 2011
Edinburgh Festival Day 1
The trip begins.
Get up. On the train. Nuts, chocolate and falafel. Straight up the east coast, a sea view floats beyond.
Arrival into Edinburgh, a fairytale citadel construction of gothic spires and castles. A yellow moon rises of a black shadow of Arthur's seat. We roam the streets through heavy crowds and heavy rain. This town is so different now, during the festival, usually a busy and jovial place it has now stepped up a notch, hundreds of punters spilling out onto the streets and a hailstorm of flyers being thrust in your hands. Every corner is now a venue, every street a route to the next destination.
Our flat is a crack den from the outside, a lovely home on the inside. A late night around the table, talking and tea. The long day has inspired the short sentences. Tomorrow the real work begins of setting up shows in our venue and we will hit the ground running. It is exciting and scary and real. I hope for the best.
Get up. On the train. Nuts, chocolate and falafel. Straight up the east coast, a sea view floats beyond.
Arrival into Edinburgh, a fairytale citadel construction of gothic spires and castles. A yellow moon rises of a black shadow of Arthur's seat. We roam the streets through heavy crowds and heavy rain. This town is so different now, during the festival, usually a busy and jovial place it has now stepped up a notch, hundreds of punters spilling out onto the streets and a hailstorm of flyers being thrust in your hands. Every corner is now a venue, every street a route to the next destination.
Our flat is a crack den from the outside, a lovely home on the inside. A late night around the table, talking and tea. The long day has inspired the short sentences. Tomorrow the real work begins of setting up shows in our venue and we will hit the ground running. It is exciting and scary and real. I hope for the best.
Thursday, 4 August 2011
Here are my words
I feel I may have finally given in. Given in to the urge to simply write something here that is a simple statement of my current feelings. Not a planned action, not a carefully constructed advertisement of my own skill, but an honest delivery.
I have been analysing the reasons for starting a blog. Why is it I want people to see what I do? Usually I spend an awful lot of energy hiding my artistic endeavours away: in notepads, in drawers, in my head. But for what? The more I think about it, the more the answer always comes back to the same thing... fear. Grrr. It's big, it's nasty, it's FEAR! - 'What will people think of me? Surely it's no good'. etc. etc.
What is that fear about and why in the face of it do I crawl, moaning and crying, back into my 'cave of despair'? Recent realisations have shown me that it is a fear of expression, of showing my real self to the world. More to the point, a fear that my expression will be rejected, or even ridiculed. In the grand scheme of things, this should be no reason to stop. It is not the same kind of instinctive fear that tells us to run from a savage animal after all, I run no risk of physical injury. Yet somehow this bullyish and dominating fear gets in there, mashes up the controls, then stands back and wipes it's hands with twisted satisfaction. The key now is how to 'feel the fear and do it anyway', as they say.
So far I have put up images, photographs, painting, but not many words. Writing seems closer to the bone, a more real and direct expression of myself. It is speaking directly from me as opposed to using a material as a go between, the only thing here is me and the page. Scary. It's all safe and easy when my words are hidden away on a notepad, but ultimately unfulfilling; the real challenge is letting them out into the minds and hearts of others. Art with no witness means nothing.
So in a way this blog is a platform, a stage, to put thoughts, feelings or expressions into the public realm for others to see. Now all I have to do is press the button and resist the urge to tell myself I've been a bit too adventurous. See you on the other side.
I have been analysing the reasons for starting a blog. Why is it I want people to see what I do? Usually I spend an awful lot of energy hiding my artistic endeavours away: in notepads, in drawers, in my head. But for what? The more I think about it, the more the answer always comes back to the same thing... fear. Grrr. It's big, it's nasty, it's FEAR! - 'What will people think of me? Surely it's no good'. etc. etc.
What is that fear about and why in the face of it do I crawl, moaning and crying, back into my 'cave of despair'? Recent realisations have shown me that it is a fear of expression, of showing my real self to the world. More to the point, a fear that my expression will be rejected, or even ridiculed. In the grand scheme of things, this should be no reason to stop. It is not the same kind of instinctive fear that tells us to run from a savage animal after all, I run no risk of physical injury. Yet somehow this bullyish and dominating fear gets in there, mashes up the controls, then stands back and wipes it's hands with twisted satisfaction. The key now is how to 'feel the fear and do it anyway', as they say.
So far I have put up images, photographs, painting, but not many words. Writing seems closer to the bone, a more real and direct expression of myself. It is speaking directly from me as opposed to using a material as a go between, the only thing here is me and the page. Scary. It's all safe and easy when my words are hidden away on a notepad, but ultimately unfulfilling; the real challenge is letting them out into the minds and hearts of others. Art with no witness means nothing.
So in a way this blog is a platform, a stage, to put thoughts, feelings or expressions into the public realm for others to see. Now all I have to do is press the button and resist the urge to tell myself I've been a bit too adventurous. See you on the other side.
Monday, 11 July 2011
Sunday, 5 June 2011
Staring at the Sun
This is one of my paintings from a while ago now. It came from my first experimentation with inks, letting them bleed into one another to get some lovely textures. Reflecting now on what I think it's about, I like the idea that the figures are staring up at the same source, an acknowledgement of being together in the world.
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