Life is a Dream Come True
Four drawings made by Hester Schofield, individually framed. Charcoal on paper, dating from early 1980's. Text, photography and printed matter dating from 2005. I got to know Hester when she volunteered to be both model and subject matter for Re-Magazine. During one of our meetings she showed me her drawings from art school and these four initiated the following story:
Four drawings made by Hester Schofield, individually framed. Charcoal on paper, dating from early 1980's. Text, photography and printed matter dating from 2005. I got to know Hester when she volunteered to be both model and subject matter for Re-Magazine. During one of our meetings she showed me her drawings from art school and these four initiated the following story:
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(I)
In most of my dreams there are no images or storylines to assign to their nightmarish feeling. They are more about certain dynamics, of shrinking and growing, for example, or being crushed. My body caving in on itself. As a depressed person I live inside my head and there’s always a sense that my body is deteriorating and weak. So feelings of weakness and lightheadedness come to me naturally. There’s a vacancy in me that is connected to my dreams. I easily dislocate from my physical surroundings. There are moments when my body is completely weak and I have no strength in my legs. And my chest is like a cavity. Hollow. Empty. Sometimes, I can have the physical sensation that my arm is falling off or my legs are falling off or my breasts are falling off. It’s as if my body has become useless. My fingers sometimes feel like jelly, or sponge. When I touch the table I don’t feel it. It feels as if my hand will go through the table. Once I’ve fallen off a chair and I had the feeling my head was still up in the air.
(II)
I’ve tried to capture this feeling of physical disintegration on paper when I was in art school. Apart from that, they represent emotional disintegration as well. I’m quite wired inside. There’s a lot of energy that needs an outlet. It needs activity. My brains and thoughts are quite fast. I’m always translating what seems to be going on in my mind and in doing so I seem to contradict myself all the time. In my plotless dreams it’s as if there are hundreds of inner voices all speaking at different volumes, mumbling and nagging. They go on and on and on . ‘Oohwwum-uuwwu uhiiwwwuummuuwwoouuw wuuhiiw wwu umuw wuuhii wwwu ummu uwwo ouuwwuuhiiwwwuu .’ A chorus of both high voices and low voices. The words are indistinguishable. Not knowing what they’re saying drives me crazy. I wake up, get out of bed and walk around my apartment covering my ears and literally telling the voices to shut up and go away. It’s kind of unbearable, really. Sound can be so much more disturbing than images.
(III)
I associate the complexity of my own contradicting inner voices with music for string quartets. What I like about string quartets is that you have four individual voices four individual instruments saying contradicting things with their separate melodies, but in one unified structure. A structure I seem to lack myself. And when I listen to a string quartet, something about the strings and cellos vibrates quite strongly in my body, like twanging muscles. It’s as if the strong part of my body that holds me together might collapse, my skeleton disappear, so I become nothing more than just weak muscles and sinew. Listening to string quartets is literally like my dreams coming to life, but not unpleasantly so. The music transcends the feelings of physical and emotional disintegration that I have, both in my dreams and during the day, and is expressed in one harmonic structure. I’d love to be able to translate the experience of what I just said into music. But I can’t.
(IV)
Not long ago I had a nightmare of standing in a window in a high building and a crowd of people below were shouting, ‘Jump! Jump! Jump!’ They wanted me dead like in roman amphitheatres, they wanted to see my blood for sport. I woke up shortly before I jumped. I often wonder what it would feel like if you landed on your head after jumping from a tall building. Obviously no one can tell me, but I do know the feeling of jumping, though. I bungy jumped once. I wanted to do something I’d never done before, a thrill-seeking thing to get me out of my lethargy. I didn’t think I would be scared, but I was absolutely petrified. I imagined that I would dive elegantly with my arms spread out wide, looking forward. But I had to jump backwards, and somehow that completely threw me. I stood on this ledge and this guy was counting me down ‘Five, four, three, two.’ and on ‘one’ he pushed me. He fucking pushed me. I thought, ‘This is it. I’m really, really going to die.’ So I went off the platform and I got this huge rush of absolute terror, but when I hit the bottom of the elastic rope, I bounced up and I was like, ‘I’m all right! I didn’t die!’ For me, it was like total exhilaration. A complete high. I’d survived death. And then I got down to the bottom and I wanted to do it again. I wanted to relive the experience of resurrection, of thinking you're going to die but you don't. So I did. Afterwards I went to a pub and a severe depression kicked in. Jumping twice made me realize it was an artificial high. I had this big comedown. The reality of being alive was so depressing. I realized how stuck I am in my own life.
UNDER CONSTRUCTION
Een voorspoedig 2133!
Wie zich verdiept in de geschiedenis van tijdcapsules vindt genoeg redenen om er geen te maken. De meesten verdwijnen, omdat ze vergaan of omdat ze worden vergeten. Toch zijn we bezig om er een in Rotterdam samen te stellen. Want ook al zijn we tegenwoordig geneigd om alleen met ironische distantie naar tijdcapsules te kijken, ze bieden nog steeds mogelijkheden. Niet zozeer voor onze nazaten, maar voor onszelf.
Wie zich verdiept in de geschiedenis van tijdcapsules vindt genoeg redenen om er geen te maken. De meesten verdwijnen, omdat ze vergaan of omdat ze worden vergeten. Toch zijn we bezig om er een in Rotterdam samen te stellen. Want ook al zijn we tegenwoordig geneigd om alleen met ironische distantie naar tijdcapsules te kijken, ze bieden nog steeds mogelijkheden. Niet zozeer voor onze nazaten, maar voor onszelf.
Rejected Conceptualism
Inventarisnummer BK53086 - BK53115. Serie van 30 potloodtekeningen. Begin 1 juni 1976, einde 30 juni 1976. Kunstenaar: Jan Hoving. Titel: Zonder titel. Beschrijving: Vierkant met potloodarcering, met begin- en eindtijdnotering. Materiaal: potlood, papier. Hoogte: 54,8. Breedte: 54,8. Staat: redelijk. Organisatie: Instituut Collectie Nederland. Rubriek: Beeldende kunst. Dit werk wordt afgestoten door Instituut Collectie Nederland.
Inventarisnummer BK53086 - BK53115. Serie van 30 potloodtekeningen. Begin 1 juni 1976, einde 30 juni 1976. Kunstenaar: Jan Hoving. Titel: Zonder titel. Beschrijving: Vierkant met potloodarcering, met begin- en eindtijdnotering. Materiaal: potlood, papier. Hoogte: 54,8. Breedte: 54,8. Staat: redelijk. Organisatie: Instituut Collectie Nederland. Rubriek: Beeldende kunst. Dit werk wordt afgestoten door Instituut Collectie Nederland.
Recto / Verso
Interview covergirl Lauren Hutton was photographed by Francesco Scavullo in 1973. She's wearing Galanos - from his exciting fall 1973 collection. Accessorized by Galanos, makeup by Way Bandy, hair by Rick Gilette. The photo was re-photographed by Anuschka Blommers and Niels Schumm in 2003, with model Uta Eichhorn posing as Re-Magazine covergirl Claudia. She's wearing a black dress by Hermès. Styling by Katja Rahlwes, makeup by Renata Mandic.
Interview covergirl Lauren Hutton was photographed by Francesco Scavullo in 1973. She's wearing Galanos - from his exciting fall 1973 collection. Accessorized by Galanos, makeup by Way Bandy, hair by Rick Gilette. The photo was re-photographed by Anuschka Blommers and Niels Schumm in 2003, with model Uta Eichhorn posing as Re-Magazine covergirl Claudia. She's wearing a black dress by Hermès. Styling by Katja Rahlwes, makeup by Renata Mandic.
Media Suicide
De 38-jarige Karst T. uit Huissen reed even voor het middaguur in op toeschouwers in een bewuste actie de koninklijke familie te raken. De man raakte zelf ernstig gewond en verkeerde gisteravond in levensgevaar. De man ontweek op de Jachtlaan in Apeldoorn twee afzettingen en reed met zijn zwarte Suzuki Swift in op de menigte. De koninklijke familie zag vanaf een paar meter afstand hoe de man tegen monument De Naald botste.
De 38-jarige Karst T. uit Huissen reed even voor het middaguur in op toeschouwers in een bewuste actie de koninklijke familie te raken. De man raakte zelf ernstig gewond en verkeerde gisteravond in levensgevaar. De man ontweek op de Jachtlaan in Apeldoorn twee afzettingen en reed met zijn zwarte Suzuki Swift in op de menigte. De koninklijke familie zag vanaf een paar meter afstand hoe de man tegen monument De Naald botste.
Destroyed Thinker
In january 2007 two thieves stole a small cast of the Thinker from the Singer Museum in Laren, Holland. Not knowing the value of the sculpture, the thieves started taking the sculpture apart to be melted down. Alarmed by the press attention for their theft, and learning about its estimated value, they burried the sculpture in their garden. A few days later it was found, heavily damaged.
In january 2007 two thieves stole a small cast of the Thinker from the Singer Museum in Laren, Holland. Not knowing the value of the sculpture, the thieves started taking the sculpture apart to be melted down. Alarmed by the press attention for their theft, and learning about its estimated value, they burried the sculpture in their garden. A few days later it was found, heavily damaged.
Rodin research
From 2005 onwards, I have been focusing on Rodin as a research topic. The main question that I ask myself is in what way Rodin consciously helped shaping the mythical proportions of his own artistic persona. By studying his life and works and by studying the timeframe of the second half of the nineteenth century – in which his work came to existence – I seek to create a context of paralel references as a source of inspiration for nowadays artistic practice.
From 2005 onwards, I have been focusing on Rodin as a research topic. The main question that I ask myself is in what way Rodin consciously helped shaping the mythical proportions of his own artistic persona. By studying his life and works and by studying the timeframe of the second half of the nineteenth century – in which his work came to existence – I seek to create a context of paralel references as a source of inspiration for nowadays artistic practice.
Miscellaneous
This is a selection of older works, dating roughly from 1990 until now. It's a reservoir of lose ends. Part of my practice is to go back in time, and re-evaluate previous motives and actions. Therefore, a lot of my works have an unfinished, ambiguous nature. Either they have lost their momentum after they were exhibited, or were never shown outside of my studio, or are just waiting for completion in another context.
This is a selection of older works, dating roughly from 1990 until now. It's a reservoir of lose ends. Part of my practice is to go back in time, and re-evaluate previous motives and actions. Therefore, a lot of my works have an unfinished, ambiguous nature. Either they have lost their momentum after they were exhibited, or were never shown outside of my studio, or are just waiting for completion in another context.
Co*star
Dus toen kreeg ik heel erg de wens, als mens maar ook als kunstenaar, om me te bevrijden van al die dingen... om werkelijk iets nieuws in te slaan. Maar dat gaat niet, want je kan het nieuwe niet bedenken op basis van al die ouwe zooi. Dus ik dacht, ik wil daar van af... en toen bleek dat soap ... bleek een deur te zijn naar... zeg maar dat je die ruimte in je hoofd weer werkelijk leeg zou kunnen maken en als een soort potentie zou kunnen gaan vullen... zelf.
Dus toen kreeg ik heel erg de wens, als mens maar ook als kunstenaar, om me te bevrijden van al die dingen... om werkelijk iets nieuws in te slaan. Maar dat gaat niet, want je kan het nieuwe niet bedenken op basis van al die ouwe zooi. Dus ik dacht, ik wil daar van af... en toen bleek dat soap ... bleek een deur te zijn naar... zeg maar dat je die ruimte in je hoofd weer werkelijk leeg zou kunnen maken en als een soort potentie zou kunnen gaan vullen... zelf.
Retitled
For the last couple of years in a row, artists had been invited who felt at home in a big show environment. This had thrown up a number of lively and playful installations, but this year the budding tradition was in jeopardy: for a variety of reasons there was next to no money for art projects. The only kitty in the budget that might be called upon had been set aside for the printing of the half a million paper napkins that were to be used during the festival.
For the last couple of years in a row, artists had been invited who felt at home in a big show environment. This had thrown up a number of lively and playful installations, but this year the budding tradition was in jeopardy: for a variety of reasons there was next to no money for art projects. The only kitty in the budget that might be called upon had been set aside for the printing of the half a million paper napkins that were to be used during the festival.
I shot Madonna
When she comes past I click away hysterically. Not even with the intention of getting her picture but more because I’m in the press enclosure and have to prove that I’m a photographer or so. I’m so busy with the camera and she goes by so fast that I hardly catch a glimpse of her. The print I have made is blurred. Also that night was the first time she showed up with a black hairdo instead of her usual blonde, so nobody recognized her on the photo.
When she comes past I click away hysterically. Not even with the intention of getting her picture but more because I’m in the press enclosure and have to prove that I’m a photographer or so. I’m so busy with the camera and she goes by so fast that I hardly catch a glimpse of her. The print I have made is blurred. Also that night was the first time she showed up with a black hairdo instead of her usual blonde, so nobody recognized her on the photo.
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