Most artists work alone… their decisions and ways to get inspired has processes that are always private, vulnerable, and hidden from their public. An artist’s creative boundaries are set by their own artistic framework. Collectively we develop that and collectively we criticize what that is or should be.
The project UTTER has loosened that mold for me. In the beginning, the set-out pathway of collaboration with a common work methodology was daunting, difficult and almost did not get from the ground. It is what collaborations often faze: the peril of reality and purpose.
The two-week turnaround was hard for multi-faceted busy artists, whose life is compartmentalised by their activities.
At the very end, I was getting quite enthusiastic, because its unspoken language opened up with ideas from the conglomeration of my collaboration colleagues Stella and Andrea. That connection was quite special, definitely different, and it made me less self-focused.
The tone of this project got my attention. New sensory channels opened through the whispers, the guessing, the responses, the curiosity, the reactions, the resistance, the progression, the struggle; additionally, the visual clues dictated how to react, what materials to choose, colours to respond to, functionality to focus on. It all gave me directions that I never would have considered.
This process was new to me. At the very end, I felt I was opening up a secret recipe book where magic could work in other ways. It is that uncovering narcotic magic that is additive. My early hesitation definitely turned around and is now asking for another round – like Tasman or other adventurists – with their pioneering question after their discoveries: “What is around the next corner? Does it go any further? Is there another promise?”
I do realise that the work in the Melbourne bookstore is in its unresolved infant stage, but has all the hallmarks of a companionate process with arbitrary outcomes that brings discovery and curiosity. What it needs is a further translation of its spell.
Peter Deckers
UTTER 