Tempo
So much art is about illusion and I was reminded of this in both contemporary and historical encounters. Anish Kapoor had an exhibition at the Palazzo Manfrin, which mainly consisted of architectural models documenting projects both realised and unrealised. He can work on a monumental scale but the genesis of his works is always the sketchbook, drawing and the model. It was wonderful to see him thinking, even drawing directly on the wall as he had thoughts about where objects ought to be located. Running right through his ideas are concepts of illusion. From a monumental new black-pigment iteration of his 'At the Edge of the World', which was in the original version coated in a solid, deep red pigment and suspended from the ceiling, to a new 'Descent into Limbo', whereby a hole coated in a special dark pigment that absorbs light, and is made to look like a flat, harmless black circle. Kapoor tests out our spatial perception, and pushes us into the space of what he calls the 'non-object'. 
Descent into Limbo'
At the Edge of the World
Various architectural models of proposed projects
I was also reminded of a recent post I put up about scale. His models relied upon tiny white human figures to give them scale and yet at the same time I felt that the best of his ideas did not need to do that, they had scale in their form. I thought I could see that beginning to evolve in his drawings made on plywood boards. He obviously begins an idea with drawing, often making a drawing directly on a board that he will then use to build up a physical idea.
Ideas sketched onto board
The idea becoming three dimensional
This simple 'roll' of clay, already feels as if it is going to be monumental. There is something about its form that suggests that this is not a slug or a curl of paper, it has a rightness that comes from a deep geometric grasp of form. Notice how on the plywood sheets, curves are strengthened and redrawn until they create powerful inner and outer forms. The lines of drawing are finding spatial forms, which are then supplemented by three dimensional forms that will gradually replace them. I was reminded of Bezier and other mathematical curves and the difference between vector graphics, forms built from points, lines, curves and shapes using mathematical formulas and raster graphics, built from a fixed grid of pixels. Vector based forms can be enlarged without the loss of their basic structural integrity, whilst a pixel based form cant.
However, in the corner of one of his workshop spaces was an old sculpture of the Virgin Mary, her halo still intact, a reminder of earlier traditions whereby illusion was used as a signal or sign of religious power. Throughout history, optical tricks, staged theatrical wonders and divine signs linked to illusion have been used to project religious authority. From trompe-l'œil ceiling frescoes painted to create the illusion of open heavens, to staged miracles, whereby religious tricksters used hidden lights, mechanical devices, or projected visions to act as proof of supernatural favour. You could see what Plato was getting at when he railed against art and its reliance on mimesis.
Mary in Kapoor's studio
In Mary's case we are led to believe that she could carry God's son, a concept that relies upon belief and belief can be used to stimulate many forms of illusion. That belief was unpicked beautifully by Patti Smith, one of the contributors to the Holy See's pavilion, 'The ear is the eye to the soul'. Inspired by the life and work of Saint Hildegard of Bingen, Smith recited poetry invoking the Virgin Mary and the birth of Jesus as her contribution to an ensemble of new commissions by 24 sound artists. I found her recital immensely moving, as I listened to it whilst sitting in the beautiful Giardino Mistico dei Carmelitani Scalzi. Because both my wife and myself had been so moved by this, we also went to the Holy See's other pavilion and once there I found myself engrossed in the writings of Saint Hildegard and the historical images that had been made in response to her life and work.
As well as being able to read Saint Hildegard's writings, which I found really helpful in the way they related spirituality to the body and healing, there was an artist's book series, 'Viriditas' and 'Caderno I and II' by Ilda David on display and I found her contemplative drawings chimed with the drawings I had myself been making in response to the work I am doing at St Margaret's Church in Headingley.
Ilda David
Saint Hildegard has over time inspired many artists and the exhibition had several of images on display that were supposed to give us clues as to what she had been up to. Many of these were taken from Medieval manuscripts and they often showed her emanating fire from her head or demons from her mouth, as well as there being a section on the geometry of the body and its celestial meaning.
From the Holy See exhibition
As I looked at the cosmological diagrams, I was reminded of Chinese and Korean acupuncture and acupressure diagrams. They also have similar associations. Chinese acupuncturists view the human body as a microcosm reflecting the macrocosm of the universe, connected through Yin and Yang, the five elements and cyclical time. Health is achieved by harmonising internal energy (Qi) with these external natural rhythms.
Master Tung 's palm chart
Master Tung (Tung Ching-Chang, 1916–1975) was a legendary Chinese acupuncturist from Shandong province famous for his personally invented acupuncture system. His palm chart is a diagnostic tool used to assess internal organ (Zang-Fu) imbalances by reading colour changes, shadows and blue veins on specific areas of the hand.
The hand in palmistry
I was back thinking about the body again, what it might mean, how it can be thought of as a way of connecting with the cosmos and the body as its own landscape, as well as an invented image. This reminded me of the experience of visiting the Italian pavilion in the Arsenale on our first day in Venice.
As soon as I walked in I was entranced by the work of Chiara Camoni, who lives and works in Tuscany, and is known for working in collaboration, conducting or appropriating ritual and collective making. Her work often incorporates ceramics, natural materials, drawing and sculpture, but what matters most is the process behind it. Families, friends, children, neighbours and artisans regularly engage with the work and this intrigued me.
Chiara Camoni: Ceramic standing figures
Camoni's standing figures are built in sections, which are stacked one on top of the other. As a device for making larger sculpture this excited me and I was encouraged to think about how my next series of ceramic objects could be built in a similar way. I had already made a couple of much smaller fetish figures myself and had realised that they had the potential to be made much bigger, I just needed access to a larger kiln.
Fetish figure built in three sections
A place for ritual
Impressive as Camoni's standing figures are, I was even more intrigued by her ritual type objects, such as the one directly above and her figure/landscapes.
Chiara Camoni: Figure/landscapes
As I read about her work, I found that herbs, berries and flowers, as well as various types of clay and ashes are all embedded into her work and that they determine their distinctive tone, recalling the local earths and vegetation that the artist collects and incorporates into her work. You sense connections to ancestral or archaic worlds, and some sort of relationship between craftsmanship and the spiritual. The collective and shared dimension is also relevant to her practice, as the artist often collaborates with friends and relatives or organises workshops and seminars to realise her projects. She felt like a fellow traveller, but she was working on a far more impressive scale than myself, both in terms of the size of the work and the amount. Her work was the last I saw in the Arsenale and I was getting a bit tired when I got to it, so it was a welcome relief to encounter it, as I was actually quite disappointed in what I had seen so far. However the following day in the Giardini was a very different experience, one that began with another series of standing figures this time by Seyni Awa Camare who was a Senegalese sculptor, one that I had first seen in the Magicians of the Earth exhibition back in the late 1980s, but who now seemed to be more powerful than ever. I was knocked out by her ability to create narrative and sculptural form at the same time. Each figure had a human presence, impressive in its size as well as its technique. How she was able to fire these I don't know, I've tried fire pit firings myself and know how difficult they can be.
Seyni Awa Camare
Looking at Seyni Awa Camare's work was a timely reminder of how powerful and personal art making can be. She had woven stories about her life, sometimes tragic and sometimes comical, around a quite basic set of formal principles. However I also realised how difficult that was. She had a singular vision but it was not one that only made sense within the cultural tradition within which she worked. Her work was proof to me that art can still transcend cultural boundaries and that there is something common to the human condition that allows us to make work that communicates to any other human who is prepared to remain open to what might be being processed. As I looked around, it felt to me that the Giardini was going to be where I would spend a lot of my time this week in Venice.
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