The Glasgow School of Art is currently showing a selection of design and fine art work from The Glasgow School of Art’s 2014 Degree Show until 26 July. Based in the Burgh Hall in Dunoon, the exhibition features works from a selection of the graduates, some of whom lost their work in the Mackintosh fire.

Co-curators Theresa Moerman Ib & Colm Docherty said:
“The title of this year’s GSA in Dunoon show is borrowed from one of Charles Rennie Mackintosh’s watercolour drawings made in 1896. It reflects the unique process involved in selecting this year’s graduates for the exhibition due to the fire that damaged and destroyed a significant part of the Mackintosh Building and the Fine Art degree show on the 23rd of May 2014. Some works we were able to view physically, some survived only as photographic representations, some were lost entirely, while others had to be described to us verbally by department tutors or the artists themselves. By partly seeing existing work and partly imagining what the selected artists would be able to present, we worked diligently to curate a show that provides a visual and mental space for reflection on the events that have affected the entire GSA community over the past weeks. At the same time, it is a show that celebrates the resilient spirit of the graduates as they continue to make their mark beyond the physical boundaries of the art school itself.”

Remnants, Static, Bottle, Stone by Nicola Massie (Painting & Printmaking)
Screenprint on paper, image transfer on glass bottle and stone, various objects in resin.

Theresa Moerman Ib continues:
“At first glance, the works selected for this exhibition are modest and quiet works, small islands in a sea of white. But if you take your time with them and lean in close, you’ll realize that they’re screaming out loud. None of the works have been shown in public before, and they have either survived the fire, been recreated after the fact, or were made immediately before and after the tragic event. Each work bears testament to the fact that when artists hit a brick wall, they wince for a while, then dust themselves off and find innovative ways to climb over it. Dunoon Burgh Hall has kindly provided a stepladder to make that journey a little easier, and we are all grateful to be here. I feel privileged to have had the opportunity to work with such inspiring makers – without their resilience and hard work, there would be no exhibition. A friend of mine noted this morning that the show looks like “a complete triumph over adversity”. I couldn’t agree more.”

Negotiation of Space (A Door Opening and Closing) by Melissa Maloco (Fine Art Photography)
Carbon dust, artist’s paper

All images by Theresa Moerman Ib courtesy of GSA.

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I love getting to know an exhibition space. If you look closely, it may reveal a secret. The trick is to capture the moment and run with it…

When I first stepped into studio 41, I didn’t know exactly what my first solo exhibition would look like. I had a clear idea in my head, but some things you can’t prepare for. Nerve-wracking as that is, it’s also the exciting part of setting up a show.

When the walls were painted black and most of the works were in place, I was still trying to decide which of my video works to display. I had been installing every night after work till 2am. Tired, I went home and left the decision for the following day. In the afternoon, I headed down there again – for the first time in bright daylight.

I unlocked the shutters and the front door and closed them behind me. The window shutter was still down, mainly because it’s a bit of a nightmare to work with. Mysteriously, this stubbornness came with a peace offering. Before I had a chance to turn on the light, I saw something mesmerising. The crack at the bottom of the shutter filtered the sunlight so that an inverted image of the street outside was projected onto the walls of the exhibition space. Studio 41 is a self-contained camera obscura!

My excitement escalated when I saw that the sheet of A4 paper, which I had stuck over a hole in the shutter to prevent curious passersby from peeking in, also had an inverted image on it. Blurred, and most importantly in motion, it was like a tiny upside down cinema. I grabbed my camera and began filming. It was like being inside a cocoon and looking out through fine silk at the flicker of life outside. Cars, buses, lorries swept by in an arrythmic hum, while occasional pedestrians became fleeting black shadows. I suddenly saw what studio 41 sees when no one is looking.

In my work, I collect moments and materials that have the potential to be transformed into something else. For “Suspended Animations”, I reworked found moth cocoons by dissolving the tear-proof silk, carding them into fleece with hair brushes, and reanimating them into fragile textile pieces.

I scanned the handwriting of deceased relatives and used the letters of the alphabet they left behind to create new fonts. If the dead could speak, what would we want them to say? What happens when we don’t have enough letters to spell out the things we want to hear?

I spun audio books on cassette tape and films on VHS tape into yarn, rewinding them into balls to tell new stories. Likewise, spun music tapes became new strings on an old guitar.

The memory sticks suspended from the ceiling had been lying in a library since 2008 and no one had come to reclaim them. We use so many different recording devices to remember things for us, but like our own memory, they are expendable and can easily be lost or forgotten.

The futility of holding on to anything and the need to let go is the core of my practice. The more digital we become, the less likely we are to print out our photos and save them as physical keepsakes. When we do get around to it, we stick them on a fridge door with magnets or stick them in a cheap frame so we can exchange them if something better comes along.

I am intrigued by how necessary similes and metaphors are to express what we mean. Describing things as they are is seldom enough. My titles are like short spells that attempt to unravel the work.  But you don’t have to listen. You can spin your own stories as you go along.

Theresa Moerman Ib lives and works in Glasgow. “Suspended Animations” at Studio 41 is her first solo exhibition. The gallery is open Wednesday-Saturday from 1-6pm till 23 February at 41 West Graham Street, Glasgow G4 9LJ.

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