Spring?
Since graduating and during the pandemic with its restrictions and various lockdowns I have floundered creatively. The shortened dark days thwarted my plans to make films and I didn’t have the urgency to make costumes for the dolls. Without purpose I seemingly lost my direction somewhat.
Fortunately, I have been able to take daily walks, when we first went into lock down, I was reluctant to go far but gradually worked up to 10k in a circular route around my neighbourhood and the university campus nearby. When the restrictions lifted a little, I built up to 17k and I now do a loop that takes in the Thames and Palmer Park. I leave home before the sun rises in darkness and reach the Thames as it begins to get light, and I am back home for breakfast. During this couple or so hours, I can keep fit, think, and enjoy nature and more able to work for a few hours before lunch after which I read, research, listen to music and explore coming events.
Nonetheless those dark days and pointless nature of my practice made me feel lost and alone.
Until that is February dawned! The days began to lengthen and with tiny green shoots in the garden and along the foot path, spring seemed not so far away. As February draws to a close and we are enjoying two more hours of light a day, there is hope. Especially as we are told this week that the legal requirements for the prevention of COVID and its spread have been lifted. While, I’m not sure this a good idea I will not rush to remove my mask and stop COVID prevention practices while in public spaces. however, I am looking forward to a bit more freedom.
So, now my diary is beginning to be dotted with some exhibitions and other interesting opportunities.
Beginning this Monday when I will be an artist in residence at The Jelly in Reading for one week. The Jelly is a charity championing the creative arts in Reading. It offers artists’ studios, exhibitions, events, workshops, talks and collaborative projects. As I am a recently appointed associate artist, I have been offered this opportunity for one week only. As a ‘resident’ I will be able to use studio space to exhibit the Coat Hanger Dolls, make films and do other creative projects and with luck meet people from the community.
Needless this is a very welcome opportunity and will report daily with new vigour.
Small fish in a big pool …
I am no sure where my Coat Hanger Dolls stand in the world of puppets and puppetry. I am a beginner in an indutstry that has its roots in the second and first millennia when early peoples crafted beings and gave them ‘life’. So, the craft developed and became increasingly sophisticated and now has an organised support structure. Since the early 20th century there has been an International Puppet Union holding international traditional and experimental festivals and producing puppet related books and journals. Furthermore, puppetry was introduced to Further Education in colleges and universities for those wishing to perform on television, theatres, and festivals professionally.
Me and my dolls are small fry in comparison we cannot hold a candle to the magnificence that goes before and continues …
Nonetheless I will not give up upholding their splendour …
Pagan New Year … might be what I need
January has not been the best month for creative writing or blogging, I just couldn’t get the enthusiasm. While I couldn’t do any filming because of the poor light due to the weeks of cloudy days, I was able to dress a few dolls and undertake much stitch work while being cosy on those dark days.
Sadly, writing didn’t happen, I made all sorts of promises and good intentions in the guise of New Year’s resolutions, but they didn’t make it to January 2nd.
I did continue to take me daily walk along the Thames each morning and noticing that the sun was rising a little earlier each and by the end of January while my mood remained reticent the days were getting longer.
I was encouraged by a post in Social Media about a pagan ritual in the period between 31st January and 2nd February in the Pagan calendar. Pagan paganus means country dweller and someone who follows the cycles of the seasons, the moon, and the sun, rather than of being tied to a 24/7 clock that spins relentlessly. Imbolc or Oimelc is a time that promises winter, either actual or emotional will end and we are able to plan the future. With the first shoots of spring, we can consider new projects, for instance spring clean our homes, begin a fitness regime, or browse the seed catalogues in order to plan for the spring garden.
So while I have no urgency to start a new project … these Coat Hanger Dolls are tired of standing around in their underwear …
Nothing like a bit of bunting …
I enjoy bunting and the celebratory nature of flags, and the way they are used in communication at sea. I am not sure what I want my flags to say. There are many calculated quotes I could use. I am currently embracing my inner child and her need to be recognised and attended too but do not plan to evoke a string of unnecessary words. Instead, I will make each tiny flag hint or suggest self-love, and playfulness while being creative. That art is not about material gain, institutional correctness but exploration, fun, wholesome exposure, and passive exhibition. Flags and bunting help me do that.
My dolls are me …
My ‘dolls are mute, like the dolls I made as a child using card, paste and cut outs from glossy magazines and mail order catalogues. This latest incarnation is a little more sophisticated and robust, made with wire and felt and made to measure clothes. Yet, they are no more alive when they stand so bashfully on their makeshift stage. For me their creator, however, they do represent the essence of humanity. They are fragile, unstable, they cannot voice their fears or delights. There are no words. They are clumsy and inept. They cannot see or mark progression or growth. They have no purpose. They are hopeless.
From the moment I purchase the fabric to make the ‘dolls, cut the wire and form the ‘flesh’ around their twisted skeletons they become me, or I become their carer. While in my presence they are treated as sentient. I give them a story and hope.
They represent a 6-year-old girl who for no fault of her own was not allowed to express her hopes and fears. She was speechless, fragile, and neglected. Her dolls represented her unspoken words, in pretty frocks, carefully coiffured hair, painted faces, manicured nails and high healed shoes they walked on the perfect stage of life that she had no hopes to experience yet.
I did of course grow up and live a relatively full and happy life. However, it was not without trauma and difficulty. I continued to have spasms of severe mental illness that was proven to be connected to those harsh dark days after the war.
When I find myself in uncomfortable situations presently, and fearful, It is not surprising that my ‘dolls become a tangible connection to the past and an important part of my well being and a purposeful lifestyle today.
Sunday hats …
This week I wanted to make some hats for my ‘dolls. So, while I was dyeing with rhubarb for another project, I felted 6 hats, in turn on a champagne cork, and popped them into various mordants and later 3 into the rhubarb pot. Then I boiled a few twigs of eucalyptus with the other three. In a few hours I had some lovely hats that needed bling. So, with a few tiny beads, buttons, feathers and a little stitch work … Voilà
Time for hats …
I have alopecia, while my baldness doesn’t bother me, I do get cold and wear lots of different hats. I have hats for all weathers and occasions. Although I must be careful in windy weather as a gust at the wrong time can have awkward results.
When I began making my ‘dolls I did allow them to have hair, unfortunately the process proved to be more complicated and a little unattractive. So, I abandoned the idea and the hairless and faceless ‘dolls were born, and they have grown in stature and number. I didn’t consider hats for them until I made the ‘dolls inspired by the painting called the Waiting by Degas, where the dancer’s chaperone needed a hat. So, I made one with felt using an upturned egg cup as a shape. It was successful but a little oversized and inclined to become misplaced and like me without hair there is no way a hat pin will hold it in place. So, the hat had to be secured firmly so it didn’t move at an inopportune moment while stop motion filming.
As time has passed, I am thinking that hats might have a useful and dramatic effect in coming films. I have also discovered that champagne corks make perfect sized hat moulds, so my kind neighbours have provided a few corks after recent New Year celebrations so I can be a milliner for a while … please watch this work in progress.
Sunday stitching …
During my studies I was lucky to get a bursary from the Textile Society that allowed me to buy a new mobile phone, with a Dragon Frame tether and software for my laptop that enabled me to make improved stop motion films. A little later I attended a Textile Society Vintage fabric event at Chelsea Town Hill where I bought some scraps of lace and other beautiful elderly fabrics to make costumes for my ‘dolls and an antique Kantha bedspread. It may be as much as 100 years old and has some signs of wear. I have learned kantha embroidery and while my feeble attempts will not match the original stitch work and later repairs I am enjoying my endeavours to prolong its life a bit more.
A cart and a chair …
The light in my house has been poor since October and will not improve, I think, until the spring comes at the end of March. This typical seasonal discomfort is not insurmountable, while I cannot successfully film, this inclemency and confinement to home has allowed me to focus on other things. Such as making dolls, sets, and props, I have been able to stitch some more complex backdrops. It has prompted me to commit fully to writing and drawing. The chair was the result of one of these exercises. Presently I am making a chaise longue which I will share soon.
More vital and relevant I have begun writing a book, or rather illustrating a story book about my beloved dolls. The chair will feature in it along with the cart made by my brother and has appeared in other films that can be seen on YouTube, both have the potential to star in other dramas.
Poem to my ‘dolls …
I love textiles – fabric – fashion
and
Making – doing
I love to stitch! Mend and repair
also
Knit – darn – wrap
From this grew a passion for dolls
and
furthermore
Coat Hanger Dolls
Even the beginning attempts
at worst lifeless
at best – Neanderthal!
I fell in love with these ugly creatures
I studied puppets – wire sculptures
An array of the absurd cruel weird
downright horrible
yet tantalising
I grabbed the boorish and ran
I ran
They stood
Enjoying a frock
a nod to fashion
Coat hanger dolls
Became
Unlike ventriloquist dummies
My dolls were bashful
and
mute
No idle chatter – small talk
Empty kettles ached to step from graceful statue pose
In elegant ensemble they yearned to dance.
Stop motion animation
beckoned
alluring but
not love at first sight
For a while a slippery costly slope
technical equipment marshalled
Otherness
It felt the honeymoon was over
Yet my ugly children rallied their delights
and
With learning
good fortunes came to the fore
We animated illuminated danced and smiled
Much at one another
Coat Hanger Doll's House 