'Soul group' screening at FACT in Liverpool: thanks to all who helped me put my foot in the door of the Biennial

FACT Liverpool, image copyright Margaret Sharrow 2010

Well, the title just about sums it up: on 26 November the sliding doors at FACT opened, thanks to curator Heather Corcoran, I slid in, set up my screening at the cafe, and spent an enjoyable evening showing my video 'Soul group' to the public, and chatting with many of you. Thanks to everyone who took the time to stop by (special thanks and astonishment go to the man and his wife who spotted me absorbed in my mocha and oversized chocolate chip cookie at the Brighton Museum on 4 December, recognised me, and came over to say hello again). Special thanks also to the member of the FACT team in the upstairs offices who offered me tea while I waited to 'go on', and to Tariq and Dave who looked after me so well downstairs (more tea!), and were so welcoming. And a big thanks to Heather for being so welcoming, discussing my work, her work, and the vagaries of being transplanted across the pond, however long ago.

If you missed it, don't worry, I'll be having lots of other screenings of 'Soul group' and other work - as soon as I have firm dates and locations, I'll post them here, and on Facebook and Twitter.

Just a reminder that if you are in West Wales, 'Soul group' is currently screening at St Dogmaels Gallery near Cardigan, as part of the Winter Show.

Please vote for me to become the official blogger / artist for an expedition to the North Pole!

Jenny Francis' latest installation

The other day I saw Jenny trying to move a table. 'Let me help you with that,' I said. 'Where do you want it?' 'Just over here,' she said, 'where it will be out of the way.' What I didn't realise is that what would be 'out of the way' was her latest installation, a continuation of the themes she has been exploring of body image and self-image, particularly of women. Last year she drew silhouette outlines around people on lengths of wallpaper, then asked them to circle with chunky marker pens the parts of their bodies that they didn't like. This year the visitor was confronted with...



...a table covered with a range of smoothies in plastic cups with bubble dome covers with jaunty straws stuck in, and brightly coloured stickers on the side. There was a bubblicious menu as well. So far so much like many fast-food outlets purporting to serve 'healthy' food. Food, I thought eagerly, having been drawn to the table like a magnet at the prospect. I wonder if we're supposed to sample this stuff. I hesitated. Somewhere along the line, without my realising it, I must have imbibed a rule that said 'DON'T EAT THE ART'. Or at least, not unless you're absolutely sure that you're supposed to. Caffi Clonc had, after all, been advertised as a cafe. But what about this? I peered closer.



There are certain colours that food 'ought' to be. This bran colouring wasn't quite what I expected in a smoothie. I peered closer at the 'menu'. The contents of each smoothie were the entire menu of what the artist ate each day of the week. So the smoothies were... all that food, whizzed together in a blender: toast, breakfast cereal, vegetables, fruit, cakes, the lot. Which made the results disturbingly like what we see when we are sick to our stomachs. Ugh.

Upon reflection, of course, there is nothing wrong with eating any of the smoothie ingredients individually. It was just the idea of having them all together that provoked the gag reflex. And yet, there was the menu.



Each day of the week was labelled with a very self-critical comment: 'too many carbs Wednesday', 'can't stop eating Saturday'. So there it was - the reality of the attitudes to food of so many women (and some men), so much of the time.

Something to chew on.


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Caffi Clonc

Last time I said there was always something going on in the School of Art. Well, today I had the nicest cup of tea I've had in ages.

It was part of an installation by Anna Evans called Caffi Clonc (clonc is Welsh for chat, and caffi is, well, cafe). Conceptually she is looking at language and the role it plays in society (in other projects as well: she told me that for nearly a year now, she has been cutting the hundredth word out of every issue of the Cambrian News). Practically the event was a transformation of the bare, scruffy walls of the project room into elegant black and white, with dim lighting, a long table with a white table cloth, three black seats, three white candles, and three black tiles. Visitors were presented with a slim menu offering a range of hot and cold drinks, and a choice of three flavours of 'word snacks': chocolate with cinnamon, ginger, or something fruity. I of course ordered the chocolate with cinnamon, and a peppermint tea. As I sat I was pleased to meet people I had never seen or talked to before (first years and art history students). It never occurred to me to wonder what words I might be served, or whether I would have a selection of random letters, like alphabet soup, but sweeter. Imagine my delight at being presented with a white plate dusted in white powdered sugar, lightly covering the word 'WONDERLUST'. Wonderlust is the name of a group of second year students planning a first exhibition in the restaurant on top of Constitution Hill.

Anyway, the biscuits were such fun to eat. It was hard to know where to start, and eventually I settled on a process of subtraction,

trying to make new words from the remaining letters each time I ate some, so 'WON LUST', 'ON LUST', 'LUST', and 'US' appeared on my plate, followed by the ghostly shadow of the original word, white plate against white sugar shadow, where the biscuits had once been. All the while quiet jazz added to the relaxed atmosphere. When I had finished my biscuits the waitress appeared again and offered me a 'words menu', instructing me to choose letters to make a word or short phrase for the next guest. I was then so excited to see the reaction of the next person to my word that I hung around taking pictures and savouring my tea, even after offering my seat to the next guest. And then... my word was spelled wrong! But it was a proper name, an unusual one, so fair enough...

Anna would like to do another cafe, which is a good thing, since several people said that we should have something like this every week!

more on Caffi Clonc

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