The first thing is to be someplace   Then begin somewhere then start

Holdings open up
Structures

I see you in there

I see us in there

I see you inside a room

We see you is what I wanted to say

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Within:

Angus Galloway 

 

March 14-18 2005

Ernest G. Welch School of Art & Design

 

        

 

Within is an exhibition inspired by The Species of Spaces, a book authored by George Perec a French novelist and literary pioneer. This epic volume is a detailed account of Perec’s voyage into spaces. Beginning in his bed he moves further and further out into larger and larger more expansive environments narrating as he goes to the reader. After reading this book I decided that I would follow this direction for myself in order to discover how spaces impact my experience. My thesis exhibition in conjunction with this essay is the account of my journey.

 

Bed: August 16 – September 6

 

Wading in and out of dream and wake states my body is continually being born and invented. In the dark I hold some drawing implement and mark the full body sheet of paper positioned beneath me. I want to take mark making down to a process of identifying my physical self. There were many times that I fell asleep and woke up in this field of marks and paper.

     3:21 am – a few nights being born have passed. These marks are beginning to bear my soul with their honesty. I cannot compare it to any other experience in that way. I am calling myself something I am opening receiving all these thoughts feelings words and upside down dreams.

 

It is me here

being me, always me     I am becoming something even more than me

I am becoming something more whole more about the space that I am in and feel on my legs and against my torso.

 

I am played into every moment by a breathing metronome conducting some symphony of my parts.

 

    1:35 am – Shadows  

 

they are where my body was

 

     my body smells so present as it breaths frantic marks laying  

     one on top of one missing   

                                                             This is not a face.

                                                           This is not a face.

                                                             This is not a face.

                                                               This is not a face.

 

 

Bedroom: September 7 – September 24

 

I think in part the bed is easier because it is there fixed and identifiable by its connection to the rectangular material softness. The bedroom is insecurely known in my head. It is the place that my bed resides but it’s more than that. The bedroom is a place where I have the greatest amount of control. No other space that I occupy allows me to modify temperature, change light, and manage over my involvement with the outside world. In my bed drawing I felt able to explore the material and the act in a completely open and revealing manner. Though now that I have to represent the bedroom I do not feel as open and as ready to expose myself. It was easier to understand what the bedroom meant to me when I was not there. The bedroom is something that we carry with us. (My bedroom is a place I need to know that I have when I meet with other spaces).

           

To represent the bedroom I made a small clay box. The box describes the way that I desired to touch and protect my bedroom. In recent years I have rented just a room in someone’s house or apartment and something happens to you when the space that is yours is reduced down to a small minimal amount. You get very protective of that thing that is yours. My bedroom is like a physical memory box. It’s the place that would identify me if I were gone and could not. It’s a place to show yourself too yourself.  No wonder the bedroom is always the most out of the way space in a house. You don’t enter a house and fall straight into someone’s bedroom. Instead there are many levels we must penetrate before we arrive. Perec asks himself near the close of the second chapter, “When does somewhere become truly yours? (Perec 24).” 

I thought and responded:

 

 

House: September 25 – October 12

 

Into house and so into the realization of existing with other people, namely roommates, and the times past of existing with others. My thoughts travel to home. I have called a lot of places home and so it is a well traveled word in my vocabulary. Homes and memories link my growing body to a language of expression and communication. Using chalk I began to mark with playful unintelligeable scribble shapes and signs into objects and parts all over the house. Text as images and images as a voice speak there way across doorways, mailboxes, decks and driveways. The indecipherable code was the attack of a crawling memory dragging its past over the sun filled present. Emerging from the wall were symbols delivering a message from my map.

 

Neighborhood: October 13 – October 30

 

This is the first space that isn’t definite. The area that constitutes my neighborhood is strangely indefinable. My neighbor in front of me is the Mead Paper distribution company. The area is clearly marked by a human mosquito net, or fence whatever you want to call it. Is this area my neighborhood? As my long walks continued I started wondering what is my neighborhood? Where does it begin and end. My first thought was that my neighborhood ended when I no longer felt safe. There are times when I’m out in it and ill find a road one that I haven’t seen before or driven into. It’s true that these roads don’t feel like part of neighborhood. But perhaps I make my neighborhood the size it is. My lack of venturing into these areas has led to there feeling dark and mysterious. The next day after walking down the road previously, it did feel more like my neighborhood. So maybe it does have a little to do with familiarity. The neighborhood ended at the place where I stopped.

The sounds from my neighborhood are many and extremely diverse. From large birds to thundering trucks from the factory to a small church and children who play relentlessly up and down my street. So much is here and at the same time so little. I know none of the children’s names that play in my street I have never been to the small white church down the newly paved road.

            Its different being out here. Things change quickly sometimes instantly. You are aware of sights:

 

1.    The houses from here look like hiding people.

2.   I am more aware of a kind of responsibility here. 

3.   The house from the street is so small.

4.   There is a white telephone pole in my neighborhood. It looks like a long white elephant tusk, it is beautiful.

5.    I am immediately aware of something larger than us.

6.   Other life going on not just our own.

7.   Curiosity about those lives is triggered.

A curiosity about how my life compares has begun.

      9.  The boundary separating our lawn from our neighbor is the

height of our grass.

10.                  You can see the factory working at night with the light it makes. Its easier to see factory things at night with the light they make

 

    Being on the outside of windows. Being outside.

Shallow night sky crisscrossing veins of electric power

 

Sounds of industry, sounds of nature.

Caution beware stop buried no parking street to be paved

children for sale gate 5

Lawn and refuse

 

Mead and Longley Ave.

516XDK NHT Fences for communication.

over 18 tons or over 30 ft in length safety starts is here.

 

 

They planted 9 Sweetbay Magnolia’s in our neighborhood.

 

W.  Dixie gutter guard.

 

0202 Express B1096, and church.

 

 

City: October 31 – November 17

 

There is so much happening!

I wish I could hear the birds without hearing the cars and trains

So much metal rhythm, too much metal. Birds are gathering you can hear it. From up there – where they fly – I wonder if all this looks more logical.

 

city embodied the feeling of being encircled, inscribed. my voyages in the city left me feeling put in/ its in/ the fence was where it was/ clear/ where they were.

We are - passing buildings.

It was all of us/ I had a conversation with a homeless man/ he told me his life story for a dollar. He spoke of his father who weighed 297 lbs and a mom who was pretty

         and of countless sisters and countless tragedy. He took long pauses when he spoke to let the city tell its side. sounds from the city drive in. his story was the collection of events I thought I might find here.

City awoke me to the collection of us   and the distance    that cuts its way through tiny cracks dividing our soft bodies.

 

 

Country: November 18 – December 5

 

Towers. Communicating devices holding, pushing through fast information that isn’t mine, or for me, or by my hands. Bound/and bound for something. Lines set the limits of the space.

 

Large everything to be large

Long forever long but longer than me

More than I was

                                    Stronger than I was         Being told directed flooded into.

 

Lines set the limits of the space.

 

 

Europe: December 27 – January 9

 

“We are just physically together we are other places with the rest of ourselves” I said silently to the gentleman next to me on the air plane,

 

The first thing is to be someplace        

Then begin somewhere then start

Holdings open up

Structures

I see you in there

I see us in there

I see you inside a room

We see you is what I wanted to say

 

Outside is in out/ from that is in/ in from that is__

 

The insiders              Passing captive

 

When we are in we are sharing the chance to imagine ourselves beyond. Inside the space that holds us is the beyond. Spaces become ours/ become out places to Drift. Drift.  Drift.   Drift.   Drift

 

We are defined by entering and leaving spaces. The struggle is trying to be inside and outside. The struggle is to be ourselves and someone else.

 

There was a space under the Eiffel tower in the dark.

You can illuminate the water.

You can illuminate the water.

 

Inside out. Spaces are defined by what they are not.

By where they are limited by. By what they are limited by.

 

There was a man playing violin by the train to Villars as I left up the corridor to the street the space was defined by the gradual loss of his music. There was a small bathroom on the train no one wanted to go in it because it smelt so awful. The space was defined by the accessibility it restricted due to the smell.

 

2 spaces were created by 2 speakers talking in 2 different languages

 

Light in the cabin of the train is on and all eyes and ears are glued to the smallness inside. Suddenly the light in the subway car flickers out and immediately the space is emptied and we are swimming in the street lights far away.

 

A man on the train was using a five dollar bill as a book mark.

 

the way to the train was a long and straight path

it was where I walked

the area outside it was something else.

 

                                   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For more information visit: angusgalloway.com

 

Ernest G. Welch School of Art & Design Galleries

10 Peachtree Center Avenue

Atlanta, GA 30303

www.gsu.edu