Monday, 27 August 2012

Step-by-Step Tutorials: Art Tutor

http://arttutor.com?an=JamesWood


I've had two new step-by-step tutorials published on ArtTutor. They show the reader the easiest and most straight forward way for making Art equipment from materials that can be found easily at hand whilst keeping to the sustainability manifesto I created.

The tutorials are on Willow Charcoal and Nettle Paper and can be found here: http://arttutor.com?an=JamesWood

Friday, 27 April 2012

Utopia Within Art


My art practice is led mainly by my drive to achieve a sustainable painting practice through the research in traditional and maybe unconventional means of making artists equipment. Using myself as the connection between past knowledge and the present manufacture of art work I am referencing a debate on global proportions; sustainability. As a number of civilisations may be striving for a more sustainable way of living, I am striving for sustainability within my practice. Through these strong links my work has been said to reference a vast amount of Utopian ideologies.

Utopia - Definition:
Latin: (Neo-Latin  (1516) Greek – ou = not + tóp = a place. utpia = ’not a place’ or ‘no place’)
An ideal commonwealth whose inhabitants exist under seemingly perfect conditions. Hence "utopian" and "utopianism" are words used to denote visionary reform that tends to be impossibly idealistic.[1]

Through this piece of writing I’m hoping to interrogate some of the ideas surrounding Utopian ideologies explored within contemporary art. This will allow me to get a greater understanding of where my practice sits with regards to Utopia.

Over the past year I have avoided referencing or linking my work with the word Utopia. This has been done due to the common miss reading of this out dated word, and the idealistic theoretical landscape that the work is then plunged in to because of its use. The creation of Utopia in Thomas More’s book Of a Republic’s Best State and of the New Island Utopia (1516) [2], Shows that even in creation Utopia was only formed with regards to a fictional land, fictional being the main word of interest here. Utopia and the practical use of the word represented a place of ideological political and social stance, and would no longer have a sufficient stand within the physical world.
           
The ideology of something better than what is now must always be referred to in the future tense, and can never be situated in the present. How then can an existing physical art works be seen as Utopian?
           
In Something’s Missing: A Discussion between Ernst Bloch and Theodor W. Adorno on the Contradictions of Utopian Longing[5], the two discuss how an essence of Utopia is present in everyone but is suppressed by the social apparatus which has hardened itself against people, and because of this, easily attainable circumstances can be viewed as radically impossible. I don’t agree that this Utopia can be so easily suppressed by social apparatus. As referenced in All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace[6] it’s obvious that the many attempts to make Utopia reality have failed due to the lack of social and political structure. The correct application of these structures allows a society to succeed, depending on what you view as a success. Although I do agree with some of the ideas Ernst Bloch talks about surrounding the fact that Utopia is going to be implausible as long as people’s views of the Utopian, as a word, remain as they currently are. If the word Utopia remains as the idea of something perfect then it will never be possible, because perfection is impossible. Then I ask; why use the word at all to relate to things that the founder wishes to be attainable, why not just use another word?

Immanuel Wallerstein’s coining of a new term, Utopistics to contain the historical choices facing a twenty first century society is used in reference to Utopia[7]. Where Utopia gives us the idea of a perfect world, Utopistics is supposed to give us the idea of a better world. The importance in the change of perfect to better here gives this word the possibility of describing something that could exist. For everyone knows that perfect is impossible because it is so interchangeable from person to person. You could also argue that better is also never attainable because, although something may be better than it previously was, it can always be better than it currently is, until it reaches Utopia which we have already described as being impossible. In this sense you could say that my practice has an Utopistic aspect, if better is more sustainable. You could also say that I am aiming for a totally sustainable practice, and I am therefore alluding to a Utopian practice.

            As with myself, I’ve come to notice that the majority of artists tend to disassociate their work with the term Utopian. In an interview with Jennifer Allen, Utopia Now: when asked about the work being called Utopian Nils Norman quickly dismisses it, saying; “I am definitely interested in Utopian thinking, but as a critical tool, a form of satire and irony, Utopia is a minor facet of my work. I’m trying to actually realise projects.”[8] The final sentence of this extract is what I find most intriguing; “I’m actually trying to realise projects”. This allows us again to understand that a Utopian project can never be realised. It can only exist theoretically, maybe it could be seen as a temporary illusion but a Utopian project can never exist within the physical world. To attempt with the idea of completing a realised project one is immediately removing it from the associated Utopian. Although my practice may elude the audience towards something more Utopian, because the physical work is realised it can’t be Utopian. If the viewer wishes to continue to see the piece as Utopian then they are witnessing it through their ideologies, and in this aspect the work, also, can be seen as Utopian, on a viewers personal level.

            The main aspect of my work that could be viewed in such a light is the list of rules that my practice must adhere to. These rules are a set of boundaries that I believe are ethically and morally correct. Utopian constructs as with all constructs rely heavily on the rules and regulations that the people involved must adhere to. This can be seen most obviously in religious groups, where the rules are stated quite abruptly and in order to be part of the religion or cult one must abide by their rules. Take, for example, the Ten Commandments[9], written by a higher power to bring piece and prosperity to the world. Are these commandments a set of rules for a Utopian world?  It can also be seen in the Code of the Guild of St. George[10], established by John Ruskin’s Utopian social and political ideologies, which seem to revolve around very similar moral issues as those evident in the Ten Commandments. These rules commonly state the moral issues that every civilised and self aware society should keep in mind without having to be constantly reminded or forced to impose them, but possibly through convenience may have been lost over time.

It’s because of this loss of moral dignity that I too have written a set of rules that my practice must abide by in order for me to feel happy with the moral dignity held within my work.
My rules are:
  1. All equipment and materials used must either be; second hand, biodegradable or recyclable.
  2. Once the exhibition has finished all materials must either be; returned to their previous owner, re-sold, composted or recycled.
  3. During the exhibition no excess energy should be needlessly consumed.
  4. The transformation process must only use energy generated by myself or energy from other sustainable sources.
  5. All materials must be sourced as locally and ethically as possible.
  6. Any transport necessary in the collection of materials must be carried out physically by me through the course of walking, running or cycling.

When these rules and the idea of Utopianism within my works were discussed with Ben Judd we talked about the actual practice and use of these rules alluding to Utopian ideologies.[11] A Utopian style settlement could use similar rules to the ones accounted earlier as the spearhead for their establishment. You see here that the pigments, papers and paints are becoming a representation of something larger, of the possible different aspects within a Utopian society. Since these rules are now the foundation of my practice and all the work I produce, it brings about the question; where is the boundary between an artists practice and the rest of their life? If I was to follow these rules within every aspect of everything I buy, make and own then I am aiming for something Utopistic, something better than what is now, better in a sense of being more sustainable. I guess you could say that a sustainable art practice or world is my Utopia. But if this is how Utopia as a term can be used, then everything from the Bauhaus or Constructivists movements can be seen as being just as Utopian to their followers as Hitler’s Arian Race was to his followers, again emphasising the unfixed position of this term.

Through this writing I’ve tried to interrogate where Utopia sits within the contemporary world, peoples understanding of the term and how these ideologies have been discussed and carried out. Whilst relating this to my practice and mainly the rules that govern the types of work I can produce, I’ve attempted to accept the idea that my practice can be seen and described as Utopian. But I must conclude that although I’ve tried to understand that the work is Utopian, and I can see how other people may believe this, I personally would never call the work or relate it to the ideologies accounted for in the word Utopia. This is mainly because the word Utopia is too vague. I strive for sustainability within my practice, if the viewer believes that sustainability is Utopian then my practice would appear Utopian to them, but, due to this, any artists’ practice could be viewed by any viewer as Utopian. This term is interchangeable depending on the relationship between the viewers and artists ideologies. It is because of this vagueness that I personally would never use this word to describe my practice, but I can appreciate the reasons why other people may use the term in relation to work I am creating.


[2] More T, (1557) De optimo rei publicae statu deque nova insula Utopia (Of a republic's best state and of the new island Utopia). More, Seventeen Provinces, Leuven.

[3] Electronic Disturbance Theatre are a group of Cyber activist Artists including; Stefen Wray, Carmin Karasik and Brett Stelbaum who have been responsible for setting up a number of non-violent online protests where they’ve clogged an online space through the over use of their domain, therefore creating disturbance.
[4] Bernard C, ‘Bodies and Digital Utopia’. Art Journal. Vol 59, No 4, P26. December, 2000.
[5]Something’s Missing: A Discussion between Ernst Bloch and Theodor W. Adorno on the Contradictions of Utopian Longing (1964)” In Ernst Bloch, The Utopian Function of Art and Literature, Translated by Jack Zipes and Frank Meckleburg (Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 1988), 1-17. 
[6] All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace, Television Programme, BBC 2, England, 30/05/2011.
[7] Wallerstein I (1998) Utopistics. The Press, New York.
[8] Nils Norman, 2001. Utopia Now: The Art of Nils Norman, Jennifer Allen. http://artforum.com/index.php?pn=interview&id=2281
[11] Ben Judd, 2012. One to One Tutorial, James Wood. 07/02/2012, Nottingham Trent University, Bonnington Building.

The Display of Research


Within a research based practice it’s difficult to understand or decide how much information is appropriate to present to a viewer. Through this piece of writing I’m hoping to interrogate the different ways I can display information in an attempt to find a format that allows the viewer to sufficiently understanding the work.

Over the past year I’ve become engrossed with the different possibilities of producing a sustainable painting practice. In order for me to be happy with the sustainability of my practice I set some stringent ground rules.
My rules are:
1.     All equipment and materials used must either be; second hand, biodegradable or recyclable.
2.     Once the exhibition has finished all materials must either be; returned to their previous owner, re-sold, composted or recycled.
3.     During the exhibition no excess energy should be needlessly consumed.
4.     The transformation process must only use energy generated by myself or energy from other sustainable sources.
5.     All materials must be sourced as locally and ethically as possible.
6.     Any transport necessary in the collection of materials must be carried out physically by me through the course of walking, running or cycling.

It’s my aim to make a successful painting practice that adheres to the rules stated above. In order to achieve this I’ve had to undertake a huge amount of research, attend a number of workshops and constantly create experiments. Through this investigation I’ve managed to get an understanding of ancient and traditional methods of creating pigment. Through research found in a large array of formats, I’ve managed to get a greater understanding of the organic matter used to create colour in the past. Cross referencing this with the wild plants, shrubs and trees currently found in England, I’ve managed to create a number of well educated experiments that I believed would leave me with a successful dye colour. Once gathered I could then transform this dye in to a pigment through a process called Laking, where white ash is added to the dye mix to collect and absorb the dye creating a solid vessel to carry the colour. I’ve also attempted with Artist and researcher Nabil Ali to create a stable organic pigment without the laking process. We achieved this through the drying, grinding and sieving of certain organic materials such as; nettle leafs, egg shells, woad seeds, St.John’s wort branches and madder roots. Whilst carrying out these experiments I’ve produced a large number of separate recipes. I've also collected much information on how paper, size, glue, string and paint have been made in the past. The main problem found within physical work is how to get all this research across to the viewer without breaking the rules or overwhelming them with information.

In a Gallery the majority of viewers are unable or unwilling to dedicate enough time and effort to the reading, processing and understanding of written information. Due to this, a number of varied modems for displaying information concisely have been made, interaction is now a common aspect of display in an attempt to hold the viewers attention.

This isn’t the case for artist and researcher Edward Tufte[2]. The majority of his prints contain both imagery and information. Tufte believes displaying information and imagery succinctly is already evident within many books. This can be seen in many museums displays and leaflets where it is just as important to understand the history or relevance of certain objects on display. When visiting the Natural History Museum, London, it’s obvious that information and imagery coincide successfully[3]. As a viewer you initially interact with the imagery displayed, questions reeling around your head as to why this animal may have certain attributes and how this will help them. It’s your decision to read any accompanying information, and, if you wish, you are able to answer these questions. You’re getting a visual experience which you can leave as just that, but you are also able to learn something. This works best if the information is displayed as far away from the image as possible, without being too far away that the viewer wouldn’t associate the two together. The experience that the viewer may have pre-information may be totally different to the same experience post information, and, by presenting the information separately from the image, you’re allowing the viewer to have both of these experiences.

When in conversation with John Newling[4], I asked him how he felt about displaying information and research within his work. I was asking in reference to pieces such as; Chatham vines, Weight, The Noah Lab and Peterborough Soil. He told me that when displaying work he tries to get information across to the viewer visually, apposed to written[5]. By including internet controlled and viewed videos in pieces such as Chatham Vines he has passed retrieval of information over to the viewer. This interaction allows the viewer to build up a type of relationship with the work. I’ve done a number of live performances recently allowing the viewer to get a sense of the actual processes involved in the transformation of raw materials. Through this type of interaction the viewer got a physical and sensual understanding of the work in action. Sometimes they’d be overwhelmed by a pungent smell or the heat released etc. Obviously performances can only be sustained for a limited amount of time; by videoing these performances viewers can get a visual experience of the transformation process whenever they wish. Sadly some of the other sensual experiences are lost through the media. That’s why it’s only in use for the documentation of performances, and not regarded as the original piece.

Just when it seems quite obvious how to take this problem forward I am again stumped by the rules I previously created. For example, due to the third rule: During the exhibition no excess energy should be needlessly consumed, I am unable to use cameras, video and sound, or any other electrical implement within my work. These rules are more important to my work than anything else, so it’s vital that I find a way of displaying sufficient information without infringing them. There’s a possibility of allowing my work to bend the rules i.e. I can use electrical equipment as long as I equally offset the Carbon created because of its use. Through this I would be referencing a very modern way of dealing with carbon emissions; instead of changing the process of creating I’d pay for someone to plant a couple of trees, equating to a ‘less bad’ carbon impact. I do not wish my practice to sit within this contemporary mindset. I take a much more archaic way of dealing with the production of artists’ materials, in doing this I am referencing a very historically traditional way of working, and therefore a way of dealing with carbon emissions that existed before the large amount of emissions did. This can be seen in some ideals viewed within the arts and crafts movement, ideals such as those that describe the dignity held within the hand crafted object. Instead of asking how I will display information, I should ask how I can display information; using the word can because the information displayed must still adhere to these rules.  

As seen in Simon Starlings work[6], through the transformation of the physicality and functionality of the materials I am using, I am describing the journey, not only that I take, but also that the materials are taking in order for them to be used within a painting practice. Starling uses only a title and a list of materials like a recipe as information to accommodate his work. I’ve tried this and it really didn’t get the type of reaction that I wanted or expected. I went on to discover that Starling as with Newling released an accompanying article with his work, and it was the information held within this article that was passed around viewers through word of mouth and online. I believe that Starlings status and the interest and knowledge viewers have in regards to the story behind his previous works have allowed him to supply such a little amount of information alongside his static practice. When seeing a piece made by Starling the viewer, almost immediately asks, “So what’s the story?” Someone viewing my artwork for the first time would have little or no knowledge of the context behind my current practice; therefore I must display more information alongside my static installation. It would also be very difficult for me to produce and release a physical article to accompany the piece as it would have to adhere to the rules stated earlier. I could release an article to be accessed online, allowing the observer to view and read it at their pleasure.

Since my practice is so heavily led by the rules that govern what I can show within an exhibition I must find a way of sufficiently displaying the correct amount of information without breaking these rules. I must dismantle the research and testing I’ve collected, cutting this down to lose any unnecessary writing. This filtered information will be that which I believe is most successful. I must then find a suitable way of displaying this information in a more aesthetically pleasing manner, in order to hold the viewers attention. This is, quite possibly, the most important aspect of my exhibited work. What’s the point in displaying a beautiful pigment that I’ve spent months researching and testing in order to create if the viewer has no idea of its origins?

When talking to Nabil Ali about the history and research he’s done in to some of the paintings, pigments and paints he uses and how these are displayed, I told him; “You should release an article or display some more information with your paintings. What you’ve just described to me about the history and great interest you obviously have with regards to the origins of these paintings and what they represent is extremely interesting, but how am I to know all of this if all I’m shown is the painting alone? Without the knowledge you’ve shared with me, the majority of the meanings that this work references would be totally lost, and that would be a great shame.”[7] Although I was saying this to Nabil, there was a part of me that was saying it to confirm the views I had with consideration to my own work.

As discussed earlier, I believe I should write and release an online article that considers the work on show in more depth. This could also be followed with a number of research blogs and articles, created by myself, that allow the viewer to get an understanding of the depth of research carried out. These could be interpreted as teaching documents, where, if the viewer followed the steps presented, they could also create certain pigments. The openness of knowledge and research will hopefully lead to a community development of some of the techniques discussed. But, due to any possible restraints of space within exhibitions and in order to hold the viewers attention, any information provided alongside my physical installation must be as concise as possible. It’s important that I try to find ways of showing this as aesthetically pleasing as possible whilst not losing sight of the rules keeping my practice sustainable.



[1] 1557, The Badianus Manuscripts: An Aztecs Herbal of 1557, Vatican Library. Translated Emily Walcott, 1940, The John Hopkins Press, Baltimore.
[4] Newling J, 2012. Interviewed by James Wood at Nottingham Trent University, Bonnington Building. 14/03/2012.
[6] Simon Starling is an Artist whose work involves the transformation of certain materials and objects; he takes great interest in the historical uses and ideas that are associated with these objects. He is best known for his piece ShedBoatShed which won him the 2005 Turner Prize. http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/2011/feb/23/simon-starling-tate-st-ives-review, http://www.scotsman.com/news/interview_simon_starling_artist_1_479380, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eg4p9_qAvUM.
[7] Nabil Ali, 2012. Interviewed by James Wood at Nabil’s studio in Colchester, Essex. 23/03/2012.

The Dignity Held Within The Hand Crafted Object: An Exploration of John Ruskin


Since the 1800s, in western civilisation, peoples’ presence and understanding has become more and more removed from the production of objects used in daily life. I wish to regain this presence and understanding through the use of Ruskin’s theories on the handcrafted, from a time when the handcrafted object was loosing dominance over the market.
In his Book The Seven Lamps of Architecture John Ruskin (1819-1900) talks us through the purpose of Architecture, carefully separating these ideas from the mere building itself. Giving each concept the title of a Lamp, these lamps are; Sacrifice, Truth, Power, Beauty, Life, Memory and Obedience.
Although a number of Ruskin’s works talk in relation to architecture, he, as well as I, see this as a sister practice to fine art, and, therefore, I will relate these theories directly to the practice of fine art[1]. The reader should regard anything directly or indirectly quoted from Ruskin to be, by myself, a shared belief unless stated otherwise. Through this text I am going to use a number of Ruskin’s writings and lectures as reference points to help interrogate the purpose of my practice. This will be visually displayed in a similar character as Ruskin’s Seven Lamps of Architecture, although references will be taken from a number of his writings. Some of the ideas touched upon here may seem to relate to a larger philosophical context, and this is where I wish my practice to sit. It’s also because of this philosophical context that I believe Ruskin’s’ writings can span generations past his own; the context can become an ideology that will never age. Ruskin may have a roll to play in contemporary art, as currently these ideologies are present through the release of an art award; A New Look at Nature, The John Ruskin Prize[2] starts, for the first time, in July 2012. To me this is confirmation that his ideologies have been able to break the boundaries of time, and will be able to play a role in our ‘modern painters’ and other artists.

Sacrifice
Within every aspect of life sacrifices can be seen; be it a sacrifice of time, of money, of energy or of life, sacrifices or the lack of them add to someone’s personality. It is through sacrifice that an object is given true life. For “an objects true delightfulness depends on our discovering in it the record of thoughts, intents, trials, heartbreaks, recoveries and success. In that is the worth of the things, just as worthy as anything else we call precious. The worth of a diamond is simply the understanding of the time it must take to look for it before it is found.”[3]  Through sacrifice an object can be given dignity; this is most noticeably given through the passage of time or labour. “It is not now the question whether the fairness and majesty of a building may or may not answer any moral purpose: it is not the result of the labour in any sort which we are speaking, but the bare and mere costliness. It’s the substance, labour and time themselves. Sacrifice in the time spent creating something worthy, truthful and whole.”[4] He goes on to tell us, “for it is not the material but the absence of human labour that makes the thing worthless.”[5] Without this sacrifice of human time or labour an object therefore has no soul, you are unable to discover the records stated above, it has no personality bestowed upon it by its maker. In some cases, sacrifice has succumbed to convenience, we have forfeited our own time for the time given by others, and through doing thus have lost a sense of dignity within our creations. If we do not have the skill or ability to make something to a certain standard or design that we wish, we must sacrifice, usually time and effort, to gain this standard or design. Through this, we allow the object to be made honestly, and with dignity. If I can’t make a certain standard of paper, pigment or paint then that is how it must be for my work to be honest, the aesthetic must be sacrificed to hold honesty. In relation to sacrifice through hard work Ruskin writes; “We are none of us so good architects as to be able to work habitually beneath our strength; and yet there is not a building that I know of, lately raised, wherein it is not sufficiently evident that neither architect nor builder has done his best. It is the especial characteristic of modern work. All old work, nearly, has been hard work. It may be the hard work of children, of barbarians or of rustics; but it is always their utmost. Ours has as constantly the look of money’s worth, of a stopping short wherever and whenever we can, of lazy compliance with low conditions; never of a fair putting forth of our strengths. Let us done with this kind of work at once: cast off every temptation to it: do not let us degrade ourselves voluntarily, and then mutter and mourn over our shortcomings. Let us confess our poverty or our parsimony, but not belie our human intellect.”[6]

Truth
Every object and action holds dignity within the truth of it. Ruskin writes; “every action, down even to the drawing of a line or utterance of a syllable, is capable of a peculiar dignity in the manner of it, which we express as being truly done, so also it is capable of dignity still higher in the motive of it.”[7] Truth and honesty are the greatest bonds that relationships can be built on; communities are brought together through truth. I believe that everything should be truthful and honest, even if it proves the owner of that truth to be in the wrong. If I do not achieve something as successfully as I may have wished in my practice, I believe I will be happy as long as I’ve been true with what it is I have done, and have been honest with the viewer. On the ideas of restraints in order to keep something true, Ruskin writes; “The highest greatness and the highest wisdom are shown, the first by a noble submission to, the second by a thoughtful providence for, certain voluntary restraints,”[8] because, as Ruskin goes on later to state, “it may not be in our power to make it beautiful, but let it at least be pure and true.”[9] Through this truth I am not cheating the practice; opaqueness is created within my work allowing the viewers to understand how I’ve arrived at certain decisions. This openness will hopefully allow the viewer to feel more connected to the work, and will instil a sense of humbleness within them.

Power
Anyone can be powerful dependant on how they view power. In my eyes, staying true to what you believe is the most powerful anyone can be. Not giving in to convenience for the sake of aesthetic or ease of practice is powerful, and through doing this, anyone’s practice can be powerful. Any work can contain an element of power. Ruskin writes; “it is not a question of how much we are to do, but of how it is to be done; it is not a question doing more, but of doing better.”[10]

Beauty
I hope to allow the viewer get a greater understanding of beauty taken from the world surrounding us. As with power, any object can be beautiful depending how you view that object[11]. I see variety as being beautiful; therefore I see the ‘one off’ object as being beautiful. When reading Ruskin, James Harding comes to the conclusion that; “Variety is essential to beauty, and is so inseparable from it, that there can be no beauty where there is no variety. As variety is indispensible to beauty, so, perfect beauty requires that variety be infinite. It is this infinite variety which constitutes the perfection of nature, and the want of it which occasions every work of art to be in-perfect.”[12] One off is emphasised here because someone can make the same object over and over whilst still instilling a type of beauty within the object, as long as the craftsman isn’t overly restricted. Beauty, in man made objects, is in the faults, subtle differences and imperfections from one piece to another. You could go on to argue that these are not imperfections but these are the signs and subliminal signatures of certain craftsman. What could be more beautiful than the devotion of mans whole self to accomplish a certain outcome truthfully and honestly. I wish to devote my full self to whatever work I decide to make, through this making my practice beautiful. Ruskin writes; “So long as men work as men, putting their heart into what they do and doing their best, it matters not how bad workmen they may be, there will be that in handling above all material price.”[13]

Life
The life of an object is dependant on the amount of life and skill you’ve dedicated in the production of it, as Ruskin tells us; “life is in the crafts men that creates an object, it doesn’t matter what the object is made of as long as the creator has breathed life in to the object.”[14] The more life that has been present in the manufacture of the object will allow more life to be imbedded within the finished object. He goes on to say; “the life and accent of the hand are everything, they had rather not have ornament at all, than see it cut – deadly cut that is.”[15] Deadly cut, referring to the work of a machine. Ruskin has a hate for machined work saying that it has lost all life due to the lack of human interaction and intervention; saying that; “all stamped metals and imitation woods over the invention of which we hear daily exultation. All the short, cheap and easy ways of doing that whose difficulty is its honour are just so many new obstacles in our already encumbered road. They will not make one of us happier or wiser. They will only make us shallower in our understanding, colder in our hearts and more feeble in our wit.”[16]
The life of an object will then exist with the object thereafter; if the object is used in the production of another object then part of this life will be passed on through the new or current craftsman. On this Ruskin writes; “the finding of actual blocks and stone carved by other hands in other ages, wrought walls with a new purpose being bestowed upon them.”[17] This can only be achieved through the interaction of an aware organism; I’ll go on to touch more on this subject next.

Memory
All the previous is only possible due to the memories we associate with certain objects. It is finally because of our intelligence that we can make all of the previous possible. Ruskin tells us; “although mountain peaks, broad planes and vast seas must exist outside man to provide sources of life, man’s associations and mans sense of self must finally create the sublime.”[18] It is us who can put the association of the life of the craftsman to an object; it is us who understand the sacrifices necessary to create the object being observed. It is with this knowledge of sacrifice that we can place a truth to something. In order to make this memory the viewer must be given enough information to come to a thorough conclusion on the piece being displayed to them.

Obedience
Finally it is our obedience to these six previous moral lanterns that we can also make them all possible. We must only make or purchase other items that are manufactured with these types of morals in mind. Ruskin tells us: “Now this charity of thought is not merely to be exercised towards the poor; it is to be exercised towards all men. There is assuredly no action of our social life, however unimportant, which, by kindly thought, may not be made to have a beneficial influence upon others; and it is possible to spend the smallest sum of money, for any absolutely necessary purpose, without a grave responsibility attaching to the manner of spending it. It becomes instantly a moral question, whether we are to indulge ourselves or not.”[19] We are, therefore, obliged to only purchase and create objects and art that sticks to these seven moral lanterns, because as Ruskin writes; “the plea of ignorance will never take away our responsibilities.”[20]

Through the use of John Ruskin’s writing and lectures I have tried to interrogate the moral boundaries my work must adhere to. These moral boundaries place a limitation on the amount and types of work I can produce, but also allow all of my work to hold dignity, and will allow every piece made to be unique through the nature of the hand crafted object. In essence, through this writing I have confirmed, to myself, the restraints I intend to place upon my work and the rest of my practice.


[1] P203- Ruskin, J (1835-1865, Vol1 – Vol5) Modern Painters. Smith Elder and Co, Cornwall. “Painting, Poetry and Architecture, flowing from the same fount mutually by vision, constantly comparing poetic allusions by natural forms in one and applying forms found in nature to the other, meandering into streams by application, which reciprocally improve, reflect and highten each others beauties like mirrors.”
[2] A New Look at Nature: The John Ruskin Prize (2012) Held by the Guild of St George.
[3] P96- Ruskin, J (1925) The Seven Lamps of Architecture. Seventy-First Thousand. Unwin Bros, LTD, London and Woking.
[4] P20 - Ruskin, J (1925) The Seven Lamps of Architecture. Seventy-First Thousand. Unwin Bros, LTD, London and Woking.
[5] P99 - Ruskin, J (1925) The Seven Lamps of Architecture. Seventy-First Thousand. Unwin Bros, LTD, London and Woking.
[6] P27 - Ruskin, J (1925) The Seven Lamps of Architecture. Seventy-First Thousand. Unwin Bros, LTD, London and Woking.
[7] P8 - Ruskin, J (1925) The Seven Lamps of Architecture. Seventy-First Thousand. Unwin Bros, LTD, London and Woking.
[8] P77 - Ruskin, J (1925) The Seven Lamps of Architecture. Seventy-First Thousand. Unwin Bros, LTD, London and Woking.
[9] P86 - Ruskin, J (1925) The Seven Lamps of Architecture. Seventy-First Thousand. Unwin Bros, LTD, London and Woking.
[10] P38 - Ruskin, J (1925) The Seven Lamps of Architecture. Seventy-First Thousand. Unwin Bros, LTD, London and Woking.
[11] P66 - Ruskin, J (1835-1865, Vol1 – Vol5) Modern Painters. Smith Elder and Co, Cornwall. “the first that the beautiful is the true; the second that the beautiful is the useful; the third, that it is dependent on custom; and the fourth, that it is dependant on the association of ideas.”
[12] P7 -Harding, J (1845) Principles of Practice and Art.
[13] P309 - Ruskin, J (1925) The Seven Lamps of Architecture. Seventy-First Thousand. Unwin Bros, LTD, London and Woking.
[14] P228 - Ruskin, J (1925) The Seven Lamps of Architecture. Seventy-First Thousand. Unwin Bros, LTD, London and Woking.
[15] P309 - Ruskin, J (1925) The Seven Lamps of Architecture. Seventy-First Thousand. Unwin Bros, LTD, London and Woking.
[16] P317 - Ruskin, J (1925) The Seven Lamps of Architecture. Seventy-First Thousand. Unwin Bros, LTD, London and Woking.
[17] P227 - Ruskin, J (1925) The Seven Lamps of Architecture. Seventy-First Thousand. Unwin Bros, LTD, London and Woking.
[18] P221 - Ruskin, J (1835-1865, Vol1 – Vol5) Modern Painters. Smith Elder and Co, Cornwall.
[19] P72-73 - Freedberg, S (1978) Lectures on Architecture and Art at Edinburgh by John Ruskin 1854. Garland Publishing, New York and London.
[20] P73 - Freedberg, S (1978) Lectures on Architecture and Art at Edinburgh by John Ruskin 1854. Garland Publishing, New York and London.