Wrecked: Online Edit

I’ve been asked to make a shorter version of my piece Wrecked to be able to show on an online platform. The instructions were simply to shorten the film, specifically make longer shots shorter to align with online viewing behaviours. It’s left me to consider, though, how I might differently tell the story, rethink the structure and content, at least a little, to incorporate some of the information that I’ve used other media in the gallery to communicate, notably the printed and redacted coastguard notes and photo Zine.

My first thought is to use the remaining text, i.e. that which wasn’t redacted, to create a card to introduce the ship – either placed at the beginning so viewers can immediately understand the context, or somehow include later on – or perhaps two cards. The first would introduce the ship and the latter, placed at the end, acting as a reveal: the ship poses no threat to life on the island, despite the opinion of those living there.

I also thought about other ways of communicating this information, perhaps a voiceover, though there’s he worry that might interfere with the tone of the first section.


Wrecked Installation

Having organised the space with the rest of the MA first year class I have a space in the corner of the room that includes an old Belfast sink – something I thought might be an interesting thing to throw in giving the nature of the work – that allows the square footage immediately around the sink and the two adjacent walls. After some experimenting with the space I’ve decided on a few things:
I am resting a projector on a plinth I have painted black that projects my video directly above the sink, the frame width matching the width of the sink base and splash back tiles. 
As it currently stands the projection is slightly too low meaning the image is interfered with by the taps. While considering how best to inject more context about the wreckage itself into the piece I had been trawling through all of the coastguard reports on the site, which it has occurred to me, printed, the combined documents provide just enough height when stacked to elevate the projector to the right height to miss the taps. I’m considering painting the edges of the paper black to match the plinth, a subtle nod to the colouring of the film. 
A large still from the film made of 9 xerox printed A3 pages that I was planning on showing alongside the work I am now considering omitting from the piece as the projector set up is beginning to feel like quite a nice self-contained installation of sorts, and the large size of the print is distracting and makes the corner seem unconsidered and unnecessarily busy. 
I’ve been thinking about a way to incorporate the sink into the whole piece, since it’s now an unmissable part of it. Similar to above, and to replace the missing reference to the blackness of the water in the print, I want to fill the sink with water blackened with the paint used to make the plinth so it mirrors, in the space, what’s seen throughout the video, a kind of ever-present reminder of both its literal subject and my feelings behind it. I also might experiment with layering the surface of the water with something – maybe black spray paint – to add another element to the visual.
On the floor between the projector and sink I’m also going to place a small round stool, painted the same colour as the plinth, where I’ll place around 50 (some may need to spill out onto the floor, maybe in messy knocked-over piles) of the A6 zine I’m making. I now see this being a mixture of stills from the video, my own photos and found images from the boat report, specifically the 3D images and sonar scans that have some of the same grit and darkness to them as the film, especially when printed out in xerox black and white. 
As I’m keen for the video to be seen. By as many people as possible and know the restrictions of access to the exhibition, but don’t want to waste any opportunity to premiere on an external platform, I am also going to make he video available to view on on the video page of a new website portfolio I am making for my work, but not during the hours the exhibition is open. After the show is over I will either take the video down completely or replace with stills. 


With a basic structure in place – Introductory landscape shots that give a sense of the space, ones that I’ve deiced to place as half mini DV, half SLR-shot diptychs, for a balance of beauty of photography and energy; rougher,  candid iPhone-shots of the community, again placed as a triptych so the result os more a barrage and overall view of island life; DV-shot interview footage telling the oral history of the wreckage; footage of a boat journey to the site of the wreckage – and a rough plan of how to best manipulate the footage to change the overall tone of the piece, namely dark, desaturated colouring and a booming drone soundtrack made of manipulated incidental sound, I am now unsure how to best communicate the narrative and purpose of the piece. I have been happy for previous work to exist as is, and for any meaning imbued remain unclear, but for some reason with this piece, the meaning seems so pertinent but easily missed or misunderstood.

I’ve considered the use of a voiceover, perhaps something taken from some further interviews I plan to do, perhaps to include interview via phone, skype, etc. or even a scripted voiceover, either could be included in the print zine, though I’d need to find the best way of doing this without ruining the look of the thing. A part of me, however, thinks this might be my experience of digital engagement with online video creeping in. Another option might be to include a short piece of text to give context and include this as a card on the film as well as in a print zine, perhaps very small and only at the beginning, end or both.

As for the overall exhibition/display of work I’ve decided to attempt to cover all bases I hope to explore through my final project: a physical piece that exists within the gallery space in the form of a wall print made of 9 xeroxed A3 sheets, a physical takeaway in the form of an 24-page A6 photo book, and a digital element, whereby for the hours that the exhibition doors are open, I will have the video playing on loop on a new website (that will also act as a new portfolio, since I still have to be a grown up and do that.)


Having spent some time collecting various material, both primary-source landscape and interview from the Island and research around the wreckage, this project has lead to some unexpected thoughts around framing the narrative of this. The story around the sunken SS Richard Montgomery was always secondary, my interest in it initially sparked by the reaction to it by the nearby community. Stories of tidal waves engulfing the island, driving islanders to live in fear. Having spent some time thinking about this, it occurred to me this narrative, the narrative of misinformation, is so tied up in the socio-political make-up of the community – a community noted for nationalist views and all that come with that – that my very purpose for the project has acquired new importance since I began. It is representative of the faults I see in the global socio-political climate: of a status quo devoid of reason or fact, instead built on collective belief, thought steered by tabloid media warping facts in interests of the economic gain.

I was asked to pitch the project to the Guardian recently and wrote this summary of its contents; perhaps a useful starting point for the narrative:

In August 1944, American Liberty ship the SS Richard Montgomery ran aground in the Thames Estuary just north of the northern Kent Isle of Sheppey, breaking it’s back with 1,400 tonnes of explosives aboard. If these explosives were detonated, it would allegedly be the largest non-nuclear explosion in recorded history. They remain at the wreck- age to this day and continue to be a hazard to the surrounding area.

It’s three masts visible above the water’s surface at all tides, the wreckage leaves a lasting visual impression of the inhabitants of the nearby island since its sinking; convinced the explosives will one day create a wave that will engulf the island, an impending sense of doom hangs over the islanders like a sword of Damocles, permeating the very fabric of life in the community. Despite the grave-sounding nature of the projected danger, in reality, the wreckage poses no actual threat.

This film is about misinformation.

The footage I’ve captured so far consists of set-up shots of the island landscape and the decaying architectural relics of WWII that litter it, documentary footage of a journey to the wreckage, and interview footage with local shop assistants. I also have an archive of iPhone footage, the format and content of which might give a better sense of the residential locations.

My first thoughts of filmic structure are as follows:

  1. Open with long, coastal landscape shots that set the scene, paired with a droning score made from incidental sounds and a bleak, colour-drained grade that give a sense of the bleakness of the environment.
  2. A sharp cut to faster-paced footage of inhabitants of the island; opening with interview footage of a single person, perhaps whose voice continues to soundtrack iPhone footage of the town giving a sense of the space, and ending with a long string of back-to-back interviews explaining the story of the wreckage in the chinese-whispers-style way I first came across it.
  3. Cut to a journey to the wreckage itself, beginning in the muddy marina and ending at the wreckage itself with scratchy, shaky hand-held mini DV footage that abruptly cuts short.

I’m unsure where, if at all, to include actual factual information about the wreckage. My thought is as a final note, a reveal that pulls the curtain on the myth. The nature of a gallery screening, though, would mean this set up allows for viewers to enter the story at any part, and therefore learn the reveal before the word-of-mouth account. Perhaps a fitting format reflective of the subject?

The Tourist

I recently won a competition to make artwork for The Unfilmables, a project that saw unrealised film projects brought to life through soundtracks by artists Mica Levi and Wrangler. I designed a poster for The Tourist, a brutalist vision of a dystopian future metropolis, viewed through the multi-dimensional perspective of a non-anthropomorophic alien entity, below.

The Tourist Artwork-1

The Stanford Prison Experiment

In the spirit of spontaneity, as below, I undertook an impulsive approach to research this morning. Visiting Camberwell to collect something briefly, I decided to look at the CD section of the charity shops on my way to college and select the first album that stood out to me: a self-titled album by California pop-punk band Stanford Prison Experiment, named after an experiment conducted by psychologist Philip Zimbardo in 1971 to investigate the psychological effects of perceived power, focusing on the struggle between prisoners and prison guards, and named as such after the band’s lead saw a video of the experiment while working in the audiovisual department of UCLA.


Immediate thought jumps to the strange, once-removed nature of namesake projects such as this, and the relationship between the experiment and the final product, and so continued the happenstance research into the original, leading first to this documentary video.

This short documentary shows Limbardo explaining the orchestration of a mock prisoner / guard situation in the basement of the university, and the construction of a strange, almost clichéd guard character — complete with mirrored aviators — that would seem ridiculous in even a narrative movie.

The video touches on the well-known Milgram experiment on obedience to authority, which saw participants willing to put others in pain when commanded — or have responsibility taken away from them — by a figure of authority. The Stanford experiment looked further into the acquisition of roles, an idea set up by the Milgram experiment’s teacher-pupil set up, whereby those in positions of power and authority — the guards— independently came to behave in ways that would humiliate and dehumanise those in the prisoner role. Interestingly it also touches on the separate but connected role of those involved AS participants, subjects with independent thought acknowledging their part in the system the experiment had fabricated, and indeed that it WAS a fabrication, and how they used this as a means of manipulating factors to achieve a desired, or perceived desired, outcome.

Obviously intended as a microcosm of wider societal power structures, the latter point — of participants knowledge and even acknowledgement of the existence and make up of particular structures, and the part they play in those structures — is vital when considering something like a catalyst for change. It reminds me of a point made in conversation between documentary filmmaker Adam Curtis and comedian Russell Brand in a podcast last week, that the mass population simply don’t have time outside of work, family commitments, to educate themselves as to the position they find themselves in. A similar point to one i highlighted recently by Susan Sontag about the philistinism of wider society. The message from Curtis, one mentioned numerous times during this and other conversations, was that it was the journalist or documentary filmmaker’s job to consume this information, and distil it into a digestible narrative. By doing so, and by making it entertaining, the audience would be more willing to watch, engage and even consider things much more complex or even horrific than they would any other way.

Mid Point Review: Reflection

Feedback from discussion. Reflection on feedback.

  • The aesthetic quality of the mini DV camera footage immediately recognised, and suggestion of a development of the aesthetic nostalgia the likes of Super-8 footage. This is something I’ve identified and articulated before, that our perception of nostalgia for the aesthetics of media aren’t quite as clear cut as film/digital, or even film/tape/digital. It reminded me of something included in my original project proposal about the aesthetic vernaculars of accessible media – of how you can identify if an image was taken with a blackberry camera being a quite specific example – and how this adds a layer onto the image being recorded and later presented, and as such are techniques that can be utilised in an intentional way to imbue certain kinds of meaning or messaging. 
  • Footage identified as “provocative”. This is obviously something I’m aware of, however I was surprised by quite the level of prudishness, that a close up of an inner thigh in fishnets or a topless woman (who was in actual fact a topless man) dancing was seen as provocative.
  • The ‘relic’ nature of the cement and ceramic CDs recognised, and a comment about the fragility of it’s appearance was mentioned – bits breaking off. The fragile aspect of this was only very passively intentional, but I like that the medium can have such an affect, and that my intention to render the object in a number of different materials (3D print, glass, plastic, etc.) without changing the object in any other way, that that consistency can actually allow a more subtle comparison than if I were to make radically different obejects.
  • How will the documentary approach of SS Richard Montgomery project differ or connect to the style of the prison project. The approach of the prison project was, intentionally and as a result of external factors, very direct and blunt in its telling of the story, with only three real components: incidental footage, audio, and a subtitled narration. For this next project I’ve definitely identified a much wider range of variables to change, and a greater subtly with which to do so in order to achieve a more harmonious message. For sound, for instance, I plan to experiment with score, incidental sound, narration and recorded dialogue, separately and together; for visuals I plan to experiment with colouring/grading, speed, more varied formats of cut, varying media with which to capture, etc.
  • My interest in the tension created by the wreckage’s existence, the sense of impending doom, referenced to the Sword of Damocles – an ancient moral story about the ever-present peril faced by those in positions of power or privilege. This interestingly is something that is referenced in a favourite documentary of mine, Countdown to Zero, which I find such a compelling watch due to the sense of urgency is creates through fairly simple documentary format subtly manipulated to create an atmosphere. My intention all along has been to make work that both highlights need for progress or change, and it’s interesting that this interest I had identified as something quite separate has the potential to act as a driving force for this purpose.
  • In response to my idea of a the modern-day gesamtkunstwerk, a “creation of multiples” that make up a single project, how will these separate components connect to one another? By using the music album-driven subject, and all that surrounds that topic, I feel conceptually the varied components are tied together n quit an obvious way, but it’s interesting that this might not be so? Also I think it’s key for me to explore how the materials and formats might connect. Is there some element of the life showing of this within a gallery setting that can connect to, incorporate or create a dialogue with an element outside of this – of its online presence or the material takeaways I make? This is probably the element I’m struggling most with, as any research into more high-tech material formats really feel like a distraction from something that to me feels quite human. Maybe interactivity ties into the immersive, barrage-like quality I want to achieve, while still tapping into that human element? Perhaps a starting point for research. 
  • Again, an undercurrent of a feeling of doom or darkness, or an attempt to unearth those things, identified throughout the projects I have done and the interests I have expressed. I talk about and project this aspect of my personality in a fairly tongue-in-cheek way, but I’m slightly concerned this leads to an analysis of work I make, or of me as the hands behind the work, as caricaturish, or naïve. I find work that takes itself too seriously, that pushes a point with too much of a straight face is much less effective in articulating a message, but this aspect of work I make, and huge influence on my interests, is very much influenced by real, personal and serious aspects of my identity and a by product of an attempt to make sense of and articulate those things. Is this something I should be more vocal about, if possible to do so while maintaining a jovial tone in line with my personality? And, again, do the three areas of my final project I discussed fit together, or exist separately? Their point is to exist separately, while connecting in every direction under a conceptual umbrella. Getting this to a place where it is seemless and so obvious it needn’t really be considered is vital if it’s to work.
  • There was identified an ambiguity in the visuals I showed – what is the audience actually seeing (in particular reference to the gender ambiguity of a lot of the subjects). “What am I watching?”
  • A connection between sound and visuals, and the emotional response or tension that can be created from such a combination.
  • On the ambiguity, is it necessary to understand what the viewer is watching, or is there a power n that ambiguity? Does this allow the audience to project meaning onto images that may seem without meaning or be merely suggestive?
  • The presence of ‘visual cues’ used as a means of provoking the viewer’s inquisitive nature, again questioning: “What am I watching? What does it mean?”
  • Can images be random with no context? Can the “barrage” of imagery I referenced exist within a recognisable context?
  • Again, the idea that a narrative can be created or implied at using atmosphere. Interestingly an idea I’ve considered for some time, and that is extremely pertinent to the provocative and immersive nature of work I want to make, but perhaps not something I have articulated in this way for some time.
  • The work was described as being so ecclectic and varied you can’t see me behind the images, but made as a positive point, because perhaps this allows for a certain ‘distance’ from the material to exist – the idea of the documentarian as providing an outside perspective.
  • The possibility that the “three-pronged” approach might allow for differing levels of closeness to the project. Can one be something quite intimate and personal, as the CD case was identified as being, and another distant and more objective an outlook, as the video was seen as being?Interestingly the arena of social media has been useful n testing out the effectiveness of work continuing. With numerous tests –

Ripe Ventilation: Empty Endemic (Album Artwork Part I)

Beginning with the found photos I unearthed today, I started making fake album art work for the fake bands I made up using an online band name generator – a tool I also utilised in making album names. Below are three examples for Ripe Ventilation: Empty Endemic

Cosey Fanni Tutti and more

In a recent interview with founding COUM Transmissions and Throbbing Gristle founding member Cosey Fanni Tutti retrospectively describes her art practice as “Just working with what presented itself, you know, going to jumble sales and finding these fantastic hoards, bringing [them] home and creating a small art work in the house, or costumes that would suggest something we could do, all ad hoc, based on chance, the way I still like it.” This touches on a couple of ideas that came up in the mid point review discussions yesterday.

The first, the idea of unknowing collection, of accumulating materials with no intention as a means of sparking action research by presenting a starting point that already has a process in place – that of collection. The other is the idea of acting on accident, or working with an input out of our control. One relevant example of this is the use of found footage – found in the traditional sense, whereby the results are entirely dependent on what is developed from a particular batch of film/tape/files, rather than selective sourcing from online. I have, in the past, had rolls of film developed that I’ve found in second hand cameras that have had fascinating and surprisingly relevant material on them – one in particular had two shots from a civil rights march that took place in the late 1960s (below, something that could be unearthed and used now?). Mini DV tapes bought second hand on eBay also occationally still have footage on. Something to actively search for? I had considered the possibility of using found footage to interweave into my final project’s documentary narrative, much like the narrative constructed from YouTube found footage in Leo Gabin’s A Crackup At The Race Riots.

On accumulation I actually have a fairly substantial and meaningful practice underway. Since the day I first went to a gig around age 13  I have been collecting tickets for everything that seemed significant in my life – every ticketed gig, theatre show, exhibition, aeroplane ride – knowing I would one day have a use for them. The initial idea was, once I had accumulated what felt like a lifetime’s worth of experiences, to record by scanning or photocopying and ceremoniously burn the originals. Though I certainly do not feel like I have a life’s worth of experiences to set ablaze, the process of documenting is an attractive one given the memories it will no doubt stir. The idea would simply be to arrange face down onto an A4 or A5 space and scan in no particular order, possibly binding together an a kind of first volume of experiences. As this would be fairly time consuming and I would want to give the appropriate attention to each ticket and associated experience, possibly noting down said experience in some way, this would have to be done over the course of numerous weeks/months/however long such a job takes.