Implant

The fourth and final part of my creative jaunt into the Nostalgia Realm for First Fold Records' 'Premier Pli' publication.
The brief for 'Premier Pli 2' is to fill four pages with words and/ or pictures based on the theme of 'Nostalgia'.

One of the threads through my collection of objects for Premier Pli 2 is "films from my childhood and the fan-fetishism associated with film props." When people have asked what my favourite film of all time is I always answer, 'Blade Runner.' It is a beautifully realised film about technology, environment, man's attempts to blur the boundaries between themselves and god, mortality, paranoia, reality and memories. It is this final theme that strongly feeds into the Premier Pli 2 brief about 'Nostalgia.'

"Implants. They are not your memories, they belong to Tyrell's sixteen year old niece."

And so Rick Deckard has cruelly revealed to Rachael (an android based on her creator's niece) that her memories are in fact 'implants'. 

One of my previous objects 'What I Really Need (1977)' was made '... to illustrate how our memory tricks us ...' and similarly (as stated above) many of Blade Runner's characters are a victim of this anomaly.

"... what the eyes see and the resulting memories are not to be trusted. This is a notion emphasized by Rachael's fabricated memories ..."

Nostalgia often works in this way, I think, gilding the past with adornments and wonder. I realise that these ideas about nostalgia seem rather negative but to be honest I see absolutely no harm in your brain adapting the past into comforting memories.

Blade Runner's opening shot is that incredible fly-over of 'Hades' - Los Angeles, 2012 - 

but before that and before the scrolling text which contextualises the film, the Ladd Company logo appears.

Aside from Blade Runner's strong themes about memory, it is within this peculiar 2D computer rendering of an oak tree that really got me thinking about my final object.

My son in the park aged two.

While myself and my son (then two years old) were on one of many trips to the park he found an acorn and gave it to me as a present. I have kept that curious object in a coat pocket for nearly three years. Whenever I wore that particular coat I would find myself absent mindedly flicking the acorn's seed out of its cupule and manipulating it snugly back in place. The repetition of this action gives me great comfort and I have always wanted to preserve the acorn in some way.

It may seem like a ridiculously broad leap to tie an acorn to Blade Runner but for me it sits thematically and visually very comfortably alongside that amazing film and the brief for Premier Pli 2.

The challenge for me was how to make a small object that deceives the viewer and implies a fragility using such a personal and overtly sentimental object. I found that key in the scene where Deckard cruelly reveals to Rachael that her memories are just 'implants.'

From the shooting script by Hampton Fancher and David Peoples:
 

DECKARD

Remember the bush outside your window

with the spider in it.

Rachael looks up at him.

DECKARD

Green body, orange legs... you watched

her build a web all summer.

RACHAEL

Yes.

Her voice is getting very small.

DECKARD

One day there was an egg in the web.

Rachael nods faintly.

RACHAEL

After a while, the egg hatched and

hundreds of baby spiders came out and

ate her. That made quite an impression

on me, Mr. Deckard.

My idea was to suspend the seed of the acorn over the cupule using spider silk as it is deceptively strong. This was a worrying concept as I had never collected spider webs and ended up reading a blog about collecting spider silk which was brilliant but impractical as it suggested using the webs of Golden Orb spiders which are absent from the British Isles. I couldn't even find a cob-web in my garden or in my house from a lowly British spider. Then one day my wife found a cob-web stuck to an old coat hanging in our porch. Spider silk, although strong, can snap easily when old and I was worried if the object would last long enough to photograph and whether or not it would actually look any good.

And so with a nervousness and panic filling my being I made the final piece which is entitled Implant (1982).

The cupule supported on a pin and an upturned aluminium candleholder.

Suspending the acorn seed rather primitively from a steel ruler.

I will post the final images once Premier Pli 2 has been published but it actually worked out a lot better than I (and my wife) thought it would. I think Implant (1982) is a fitting end to an incredibly challenging and creative journey as it is the most personal and most delicate of my four objects. In fact it no longer exists, it is now just another memory saved for prosperity in a photograph.

Hope You Are Well

Part 3 of my creative jaunt into the Nostalgia Realm for First Fold Records' 'Premier Pli' publication.
The brief for 'Premier Pli 2' is to fill four pages with words and/ or pictures based on the theme of 'Nostalgia'.

With two more pieces to complete for this assignment I have to admit that I have been struggling to make any ideas stick, any thoughts to manifest as sketches that will finally be sent out into the world as finished items as part of my contribution to the 'Premier Pli 2' publication. Some of the underlying threads of my 'collection' are films from my childhood and the "... fan-fetishism associated with film props ..." A list of films formed as I scratched my head, a list of films that I thought would inspire interesting objects. Amongst the movies on the list are 'Predator', 'The Goonies', 'Ghostbusters', 'Stand By Me', 'Robocop', 'Raiders of the Lost Ark' and 'The Temple of Doom'. For some reason non of these films excited my creative brain into action.

And so I finally did it. I knew I would. The 'attic' being such a mystical place I decided to ascend to that not-so-dark and not-so-dusty place to see what I could find to use or inspire the final two objects for this project.

Going through a huge box I discovered an original Corgi 007 Austin Martin DB5 (from Goldfinger), numerous sketchbooks filled with tiny little pen drawings of strange objects and a handful of my old school books from the eighties. One book (1985 - 1986) was entitled 'Creative Writing' filled with some amusing and disturbing work with titles such as 'Body in a Boot Car Chase', 'The Key To Another World', 'Prediction' and 'A Happy Home'. Awwww ...

I happily sat and read these messages from the past, from a past version of me, flicking through pages of this stuff until I came across a letter I had penned to none other than Steven Spielberg (or 'Mr. Spielberg' as I refer to him in the letter). And then the light bulb in my head came on and there it was - I had it. I had the idea for my next object.

Spielberg features heavily in my list of films that I loved (and still love) from childhood and I am sure he would feature in the lists of many people my age. 'ET' could have featured as could 'Jaws' and 'Close Encounters of the Third Kind'. Spielberg's stamp is right across my childhood and even now he still remains an incredible film maker ('Super 8' (as producer), 'The Adventures of Tin Tin' etc) and where others have become jaded or faded away he retains his quality and talent.

These admirations are echoed in my letter dated 28th February, 1986:

"Dear Mr. Speilberg,

I am writing to you because I admire your talent at directing and producing films. I have seen The Goonies and I thought that it was brilliant ..."

Spielberg didn't direct 'The Goonies' (Richard Donner did) but he did produce it and has a 'Story By' credit on the film. I thought this letter and the reference to 'The Goonies' would be a great starting point for a sculpture/ object about nostalgia.

Sometimes chance just throws something unexpected your way and it sticks.
'The Goonies' plot  (according to IMDB):

"A group of kids embark on a wild adventure after finding a pirate treasure map."

The kids discover the map in the attic of Mikey (played brilliantly by future hobbit Sean Astin) - much like me finding the letter. This was too good not to develop into something.

My idea developed quickly. I take the letter, set fire to it, take the ashes and place them in an urn. The urn is decorated with a vintage style tattoo with the words 'Hope You Are Well' (the last line of my letter to Mr. Spielberg) emblazoned across it.

Sticking with my premise of using craft items and processes from childhood I have made the urn from papier mache. The urn's stopper is a papier mache skull based loosely on the skull that tops the 'i' in 'Goonies' during the opening titles of the film.

The final piece may or may not feature a framed photocopy of the original letter. We will see.

Phocopied and framed - all that remains.

So that's it, the object is nearly finished and I am very pleased with it. It works for me, for the ideas, for the publication and I can't ask for much more than that. 

"Down here it's our time."

What I Really Need

Part 2 of my creative jaunt into the Nostalgia Realm for First Fold Records' 'Premier Pli' publication.

You always need a plan ... The paper template and the original Jawa cloak.

The brief for 'Premier Pli 2' is to fill four pages with words and/ or pictures based on the theme of 'Nostalgia'.

My idea for my second object was to make an exact replica of the cloak worn by an original Kenner Jawa action figure using gold fabric and gold thread. The concept is to create a fools-gold version of the original object that appears to be more 'attractive' and 'valuable' than the authentic item. This is to illustrate how our memory tricks us and gilds the past with adornments and wonder.

I have had the Jawa action figure since I was a little boy and it has survived numerous house moves and hoarding culls. As mentioned in my previous post "... whenever I have the urge to clear out cupboards or drawers it is the big stuff that goes, the small stuff tends to survive ..."

My original attempt failed as I didn't stitch the hems first.

Another reason for using the Jawa cloak as a starting point is that it reminds me of traditional robes that fill endless glass cabinets in museums up and down the country that point directly to an otherworldly past and so does, to my mind, clutch at nostalgia.

Most male adults of a similar age (I am thirty seven at the time of writing this) will have fond memories of the original Star Wars film (released in 1977). I think I saw the film on its release as I would have been three and that seems an unlikely age for a cinema visit or to even remember a visit if it had happened. Having said that, I have been taking my son to the flicks since he was two so it is possible (just for the record, we saw 'Monsters vs Aliens').

The original film is not great by any stretch ('Empire' wins hands down and remains one of my all time favourite movies) so my love of the first Star Wars has been (to a degree) fabricated by my brain and tainted by endless re-releases and tinkering by George Lucas. This constant re-visiting by Lucas (I see a 3D version of 'Phantom Menace' (terrible film anyway) is soon to be released) also feeds into my golden Jawa cloak, the adding of false adornments and making 'corrections' to something that should have been left well alone.

Another of my reasons for creating a replica of the Jawa cloak is that one of the only scenes I fondly remember from the film is the one where Uncle Owen and Luke go to the Jawas to buy some droids (ending up with C3P0 and R2D2). I know the dialogue very well indeed and I have no idea why. Hence the title 'What I Really Need' which is Uncle Owen's first line to a Jawa.

Tiny hems.

As my hands are quite big and not really suited to making tiny trinkets, it was incredibly fiddly making this tiny little cloak (it stands just 6.1cm in height). But I think it worked and although stitching those tiny hems hurt my eyes and three hours were used in stitching the final (the second!) version it was well worth it.

I will post the final image when 'Premier Pli 2' is published.

Next ... 'Blade Runner' and an eleven year old's letter to Mr. Spielberg.