GCOP200 - Repetition in The Everyday and Archival Art Practice (-or- 'My Sad Life')

(Graphs missing)

Repetition in the Everyday and Archival Art Practice

I manipulate how I am willing to be perceived. This varies from person to person, relationship to relationship. There are some things that no one knows, and there are some people that know nothing. Everybody thinks that they know more than they do, but some people still know too much.

Currently my practice is largely made up of collecting and arranging information as a means to remedy the despair and disorientation I find in my surroundings. I like to assume that this is a universal syndrome, and we all do what we can to make a connection with our environments, however, I acknowledge that this is something that I continually struggle with, and my art therefore often serves as a system that allows me to connect in my own way. This often results in my art being somewhat escapist and rambling, which isn’t necessarily an issue, though merely masks the problem at hand.

This artefact forms part of an ongoing documentation of my life, specifically, certain elements of my life that I regard as significant. I reached a point where it seemed valuable, if not necessary to begin to track my behaviours in order to prevent actions or traits that I deem damaging or superfluous, and so designed a key onto which I could project my thoughts and feelings, and at the end of each day assign a numerical value to various aspects of my behaviour.

This is a direct response to my artistic practice, which often revolves around the archiving and collecting of information, and my fixation with pushing myself and ‘running at maximum efficiency’; the awareness that something is wrong, and my search for a remedy for this dissatisfaction and displacement. Adopting a pragmatic approach to this is another way for me to order and compartmentalize my life; to take command, and fix what I perceive to be broken. Georges Perec describes these feelings absolutely in his piece; Notes Concerning the Objects that are on my Work-table:

I tidy my work-table quite frequently... It most often corresponds to the beginning or end of a specific piece of work; it intervenes in the middle of those indecisive days when I don’t quite know whether I’m going to get started and when I simply cling on to these activities of withdrawal: tidying, sorting, setting in order.
                                                                           (Perec, 2008, P.44. My italics)

Perec describes a need to ‘sort out’, reorder, re-evaluate; a need that particularly comes at the end of something, as though reclaiming a sense of security after a departure from routine or direction. This is an experience that I can not only associate with, but which I see as a direct metaphor for my current attitude towards life; a desire for order and system.

This project is challenging and unusual to me because I am giving away elements of myself that would normally be kept very much private. Compiling these elements and information into graphs and statistics however alters this fact of sharing, seeming less personal because I am presenting myself in a purposeful and pseudo-scientific manner, allowing me to disassociate from the information that I have collected. If I turn my emotions, and my behaviours and rituals which I find negative into something clinical and separate from myself, then it’s less difficult to share, not only because it feels less a part of me, but because it will be received in a different way; in theory, less to do with other people’s emotions, and more directed at their scientific minds.

Parallels can then be drawn between this study, and between my actions in ‘real life’, once again behaving in a way that is controlling and manipulative. As such, the information that I compile and present can only be assumed to be incomplete, because it is made through a process of selection, and according to criteria designed by myself with the full knowledge in mind that this information will be seen by others.

That being said, however, the information that I collect is still framed within a scrap-book/diary format- the mode of documentation that came most naturally to me. I am reminded through this object and the information that I select for it (this goes beyond graphs and statistics, also collecting fragments from books, found objects and additional lists and thoughts etc.), that what I am archiving is my own life, and what I’m keeping is a daily diary of thoughts; a realisation directly conflicting with my desire for depersonalisation (possibly another symptom of my want to escape). I think that it is because of the informality in my process of recording information - daily moods and thoughts - that this is the form that I adopted to present said information. It is a system that allows me to include points that in a more rigid framework might be overlooked or excluded.

This set of criteria has not been selected consciously in order to impress or control; my principal motivation in this study is to better understand my actions, and recognise patterns and areas in need 

of improvement –in order to run at ‘maximum efficiency’.

This taxonomy falls in place to capture my inefficiencies and failings, and replace them with behaviours that I can confirm to be advantageous. This has been approached by tracking my mood and productivity (the two elements of my life that I believe to be most important for ‘maximum efficiency’) (Fig. 1), and then within that, repetitive behaviours. (Fig. 2) It is then possible to examine the effects of these behaviours by comparing them to the averages for both mood and productivity, and discern whether they are beneficial or damaging. (Fig. 3, 4)

I see a relationship between this systematic approach to studying my own everyday, and several other artist’s endeavours, for example in Sophie Calle’s ‘Hotel’ (1981), I was struck by the certainty with which Calle knew exactly what she was and was not interested in recording; in Annette Messager’s books and albums, particularly in the division of her personality and creating different personas to accommodate each aspect, and Mary Kelly’s ‘Post-Partum Document’ (1973 – 1979), specifically ‘Pre-writing alphabet, Exergue and Diary’ in which she makes connections and forms statements based on the patterns she finds in her child’s learning behaviours. These are artists who have recorded and dissected everyday life with a sense of humour, and a fascination with the banal or overlooked.

Annette Messager particularly interests me in this area because her work is so focused on documenting and archiving, and on challenging reality through her Collection Albums (1972 – 1974) which describe a person who may or may not exist. She creates a narrative through collections and records, building new memories and truths; ‘Like collecting, writing is a way for Annette Messager to appropriate the world and to project herself into a fictional character.’ (Messager, 2006, P. 12) She is able to build an archive, the contents of which dictate the character that they belong to, e.g. Practical Woman, Trickster, Collector; the album becomes the character.

Although my study is based on truth and honesty, what I am doing in my own way too, is dissecting the everyday; a research project into the ‘significant banal’; a mission to find out exactly how integral to my life and behaviours each seemingly trivial, everyday element is; tracking this cohesively and coherently in order to visually and mathematically demonstrate the effect of these everyday occurrences. As time goes by and I collect more information, I am able to synthesise and make assumptions based on the patterns that emerge.

By using this model, I can, for example, determine that eating excessive amounts of porridge has a positive effect on both mood and productivity; however lack of routine has a negative effect- particularly on productivity (Fig. 3, 4); this might prompt me to eat more porridge, and maintain a consistent routine throughout my day. This however does not mean that mood or productivity levels would necessarily sit above or below zero to be defined as positive or negative, but that they would be above or below the general average.

One of the biggest issues that I have with this system is the previously mentioned problem of selection and archiving; “The problem of making the everyday meaningful in a way that doesn’t imprison it at the level of the particular.” (Johnstone, 2008, P. 85) How can I claim to be documenting the Everyday when I am being exclusive with it, and assigning certain behaviours or activities greater value than others? By dismissing other, less repetitive elements to my everyday, I cannot propose to be creating a full and accurate archive; and by being selective, am I taking away the everyday-ness from the everyday? Does my very particular and incomplete process of selection impact the information to a point that it can no longer be defined as relevant?

It is undeniable that during this study I have determined patterns in my behaviour, and it would not be possible or practical to record everything. The system of selection that I have used has been created based on personal experience and known patterns in order to maximise the possibility of collecting valuable data; so perhaps this is enough. My primary motivation is to create a model for myself that is useful and comprehensive, so being particular with my categories has been key for recording information with greatest efficiency. As time goes on, my criteria will evolve and expand to include more thorough guidelines for documentation. The varied categories for data collection as well as the knowledge that this is an ongoing project which will go on to encompass more elements of my everyday, I believe, lessens the impact of selection on this project and its identity as an investigation into the everyday. 

Another element to, and another purpose for this study is to track my withdrawal, and the behavioural and physical effects of suddenly ceasing to take prescribed medication. I began this project on my first day without said medication as a way to ‘keep track’ of my behaviours, and any ill effects of ‘going cold turkey’. This seemed important for my health, and as another way of taking command of my life and actions; taking back this element of control which until then had been with medical professionals. In a way, this has been about reclaiming power and banishing what I perceive to be weakness, so this need to improve my ability to work and live comfortably has, in part, been about fighting back and seizing control. It seems necessary for my work and my life to have complete command, and I feel regaining this gives me greater security and conviction in my art, which is so often about hunting and finding resolution, and most significantly, about knowing myself. This artefact, this book, as it exists crystallises a difficult period of change and transition. It can be preserved either as a symbol, a reminder of hard times, or more preferably, be regarded as a hopeful talisman; an ablation, and a souvenir of times past; An object of strength and renewal.

As well as this, I am also eager to know and have confirmed for myself that by doing the wrong thing, I did the right thing. This confirmation comes in observing the rhythms of my behaviour, particularly my moods, after the initial withdrawal, levelling (Fig 6, 7), and the patterns of my mood and productivity beginning to associate and flow in harmony (Fig 5); a result that is both pleasing and reassuring.

Throughout this project I have maintained a desire to be as candid as possible, and have been happy to share my artefact and my findings with anyone who has asked, though initially explaining little so they could take what they would from the object. I’ve been struck by how interested and how supportive people have been about what I’m doing. I think this is partly, as is human nature, slightly voyeuristic, but I also feel that this enthusiasm comes from the sympathetic acknowledgement that what I’m doing isn’t that easy, and that what I’m striving for is change. The element that people have been most interested in however, has been in making connections, just as I am; reading through the book that I am compiling, and comparing my notes to the graphs and charts that I have made. I think that there’s a fascination to be had in reducing life to a formula, however simplistic.

My final point comes in relation to a piece in Kaprow’s Essays on the Blurring of Art and Life (2003); Art Which Can’t Be Art. Kaprow properly acknowledges the act of brushing his teeth for the first time, and is led to the conclusion that the majority of one’s actions go unrecognised: “I began to suspect that 99 percent of my daily life was just as routinized and unnoticed; that my mind was always somewhere else; and that the thousand signals my body was sending me each minute were ignored.” (Kaprow, 2003 P. 221) If an autonomous action such as brushing teeth can be recognised, then perhaps every unremarkable event, once realised, can be deemed spectacular, and it is here, in the acknowledgement, that the boundaries between art and life, the everyday and the remarkable, truly dissolve.

Highmore, B (2002) The Everyday life Reader. London: Routledge.

Johnstone, S (2008) The Everyday. London: Whitechapel.

Kaprow, A (2003) Essays on the Blurring of Art and Life. London: University of California Press.

Messager, A (2006) Word for Word. London: Violette Ltd.

Perec, G (2008) Species of Space and Other Pieces. London: Penguin.