Thursday 23 January 2014

Irreversible Steps

https://www.flickr.com/gp/darren_eve/43fqZB

Thoughts on Irreversible steps.


Impetus


Recently, I have been working with a photocopier to produce and manipulate
images for a booklet of lyrics I am working on.

I've been really enjoying this process and wondered why.
I had originally started planning the book on the pc, spending a long time
in photoshop, moving things about, changing fonts, trying to get the images
to look the way I was inexpertly visualizing and generally getting a sore arse
and a frustrated head.
I must first explain, I am no designer. In fact, I'm worse than a non-designer
in that I still try to design my own things in the full knowledge that it's going to be
an unfulfilling and ultimately unsuccessful experience.

Backstory


It wasn't always thus.......my mind started to recall a time,
back when I was a teenager, when I used to play with images, draw and paint
etc. and not focus predominantly on the outcome.
Among my friends were and are some talented visual artists. This meant that:

a. there was, in the days when we had time to hang out together often,
a general atmosphere of creativity and encouragement

b. not having much in the way of gear or money, most output was created
with whatever materials and equipment were at our disposal.
This often meant 'borrowing' things from our beloved institutions.

I felt a freedom in visual art with no pressures of commerciality or delusions
of professionalism. A happy amateur. As opposed to an unhappy one.
Now, this period was the early 1990's. I mean, some of us had computers, and
even a printer but it was still fairly laborious and expensive.
We had little to no money. We were at school/college.

Imagine you wanted to publish a comic or a zine or make a gig poster.
You used to have to create a physical 'original' somehow.
Drawing, letraset, painting et al. And then you had to find a way to duplicate it.
Offset printing wasn't something you could even consider.
Screen printing took skill, time, gear lots of ink and help from grumpy art teachers,
though was (and is) the pre-eminent method  for t-shirts and posters (to my mind).
So what could the proudly independent, cash strapped runt use?
Yes....the photocopier. A means of reproduction you could get access to.
Even for free with a bit of ducking and diving.

The lamp moves


This was obviously crying out for experimentation.
I'm not sure if we knew about the huge and exciting body of xerox/copy art
that had begun over a generation before (see links at bottom of post) but I'm pretty sure that,
I at least didn't, perhaps I had a dim awareness at best.
So what happens after the initial urge to make copies of different parts
of your body up against the glass?
Well, there were the punky collages of a decade or two before.
Cool and easy to emulate. Then there were distortions from moving things or
images on the platen glass. Then, copying onto already printed images, maybe
several times. Enlarging and decreasing in size, darkening and lightening
contrast, the use of books to appropriate images (particularly in the library),
copying and recopying to create abstractions and distortions aplenty.

Recopy


So there's me, sitting on my arse at a computer when I remembered all this.
Where can I find a photocopier...at work! I am sure I could probably get in trouble
which adds a frisson but I could perhaps talk my way out. Fuck it, most of the other
teachers copy pointlessly all the time, I prefer the whiteboard in class. There we are,
justified.
Off I went, forth with some photos, text and images that I had printed out, and
multiplied. Well.....copied.
What fun! I was overtaken by a kind of fervour, reinserting images
back in to the copier, swirling them on the platen, zooming and playing with
contrast, all fearless of paper jams - nowadays I know how to solve them.
It had a physicality to it, the heavy clunking loading drawers, the smells of
toner and hot paper, mechanical noises and that wicked moving lamp.
I make no claims that I've produced 'art' but at least I
have enjoyed doing it. This non-designer has rediscovered his rightful place.

Your point is...?

To return to the title of this piece, 'Irreversible steps'.
I think part of my enjoyment springs from the lack of reversibility.
Not being a complete arsehole, I didn't want to waste paper or toner in
throwing the stuff away, so I re-used everything. If I wasn't happy with an image,
I put it back in the copier and continued with it or used the other side of the paper.
It demanded a respect for the physical world, forcing me to accept and adapt.
For an untrained 'artist' such as myself this is a boon.
This inability to click 'ctrl z' forced me to work and make decisions.
But it's not the whole story

An old chestnut

There was a flow from the start stage through to the finish.
I had to pre-visualise and think about how the copier worked to get close to
what I wanted but the copier still intervened with its own contributions.
It is what it is.
This copier induced imperfection is probably what I'm after as opposed to
the design prowess which for me as a non designer is close to unobtainable.
The copier colludes with its ever simplifying, tone destruction. It gives me a sense
of legitamacy, however deluded, that it was made outside of a software package.
This is quite a silly distinction I suppose but one I intuitively feel rather than think.

It's a well rehearsed cliche that one medium is more real
or authentic than another but I can't get away from the fact that the process
seems as important as the result and can even be perceived in it.
When 'designing' in photoshop or similar, I try it out, I go back,
I move things and change fonts, try hideous filters and generally fart around
until the farts don't smell so bad anymore.
I'm well aware that this is my own fault but remember that I have no discipline
or trained foundation to work from.
There is no flow.
For me this is not really a simple question of analogue v digital (many copiers
now use digital technology anyway) but one of methodology and technological
interaction.
These kind of processes protect the undisciplined maker from the predesigned
'art' features that are found in software packages and force him/her to act.
A pen and paper has a very open manifesto. You can use it to make marks,
the rest is up to you. The copier was designed to make copies of documents.
The rest is up to you. The synthesiser was designed to produce sound through
synthesis. The rest is up to you. And so it goes on.
But the closer you get to presumptive 'features' the further away the amateur user
gets from making their own 'art'.

Can I go now?


In conclusion, to my arty friends, thanks so much for unknowingly giving me
the permission to enjoy 'making' and to my fellow non designers, my advice
is either, have enough money to pay someone else or go into the physical world.
Paint or screen print, copy or draw etc.etc. and you will come up with something
that has something more visibly of you in it. Protected from hackneyed filters and actions!
If it's for publication you'll still probably end up finishing that output in a software
package but it will just be a quick tidy up stage and you'll have had a messier experience
that you'll enjoy and remember and may even take you somewhere else.

links


http://www.clubcopying.co.uk/photocopier-glossary.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Xerox_art

http://gizmodo.com/the-secret-role-that-copy-machines-have-played-in-moder-1295212435

http://www.bl.uk/reshelp/findhelprestype/news/zines(part1)/zines1.html

http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/xerox-art