F305i Session 03

Friday, 08 May 2020

__ discover ways artists have represented domestic spaces
__ think about your own work in the context of the home
__ create works that respond to / reflect / provoke insight into a place in your home
__ continue to develop skills and confidence with in curating 

The presented visual essay will evoke memories of art history and lead you to reconsidering your own domestic space in this context. We will elevate your personal spaces to that of ‘art’ and give you the confidence to create work about your domestic space, within it, responding to it and showcasing it. 

The visual essay will walk you round a typical domestic space, from entrance / front door though to attic by using images made by artists – many of which will be familiar and hopefully a few that will be new to you. 


PDF of lecture: Curating the Domestic Lecture 2


__ Explore your domestic space.
__ Find a place / surface / space within your home that inspires, provokes thought or that you are intrigued by.
__ Create between 1 – 4 original artworks in / about this space. The new pieces (to exist as images / documentation online) could be your own work, found objects, curated installations, text etc.
__ Upload onto the forum 1 – 3 images, each image to be titled “lastname_title_of_work” (5MB max each, size 1200 pixels on the longest side / 72dpi) of each of your artworks with a max 150 words description of what we’re looking at for example, what the work is / made of / about / inspired by / questioning / provoking etc.
__ Upload a max 3 minute video / talking head (if smaller than 5MB, if larger email me) of you introducing yourself and speaking about all the works made. This will be used to accompany Session 05’s private view.

All work must be submitted by Tuesday 12 May @ noon EST / 17.00 GMT and all students must check back and comment on at least each other student’s work by end of play Wednesday. Professor Charlie Levine will comment on Thursday 14 May. A selection of works will be exhibited online at studioELL, curated by Professor Charlie Levine.


  • Vishwa Shroff: Here is the Image
  • Vishwa Shroff: Sorry for this delay, but here it is: In the absence of...
  • Jeannine Bardo: “Placement II” A curation of objects placed with no intention and left...
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Laurie Nouchka
10 May 2020 8:04am

Unintentional shrines

As I wander around my home I notice how many unintentional shrines I have created.

Something struck me in response to John’s insight of seeing my work as ‘totems, prayers, offerings’ and Gemma in her ‘preciousness and care’ comment. Combine this with William highlighting the ‘status and importance’ created in showcasing these things and Karen seeing the eclectic nature of the arrangements as so evocative.

Charlie’s lecture enticed me to wander around my home and see it in a new light. In doing so I noticed how many spots incorporated collections of objects and memories. I’d unintentionally created these shrines to things of importance – people, places, ideas.

It feels nice to reconnect with them. I recognise how easy it is to just walk past these every day, to get used to your space and the things within it. I reflect and notice how they’ve all taken a part in shaping bits of me. I am them, they are me.

Unintentional shrine number one, the table collection, is one that expands and shrinks in proportion to my daily collections vs the practicality of having to use it as a functional table. But it also reminds me about why i bought this table in the first place. Intentionally buying a long, solid, wooden table as a centerpiece for my home. Something we could all gather around. Somewhere we would eat together in large groups. Where we would make memories that the table and I would hold. I miss that during lockdown, I plan to have a lot of dinners when I can.

Unintentional shrine number two has formed atop a redundant radiator. I’ve been meaning to have it removed for years but then where would the collection of things go? It includes a pattern drawing I did as part of a workshop last summer. A couple of prints I bought from an illustrator that convey beautifully how I feel about swimming outdoors. There is some Paleo Santo wood I burn to cleanse the room and some dried roses that I must have had for over five years. There’s a vase I bought in Grenada and a cup with one of my designs I created for a collection in Miami. It contains a wilting aloe that has survived out of soil for almost a year. There’s a wooden fish that was given to me as a birthday card about three years ago. Just typing this makes my heart bulge with love. Then there are my plants, ofcourse, very recently watered.

Unintentional shrine number three sits atop a 1930’s cocktail chest that i acquired from my paternal Grandmother. If you open it up it has a full cocktail set up that would keep us entertained for hours but mostly I use it to store paints and drawing materials. My Grandmother will be turning in her grave. She was a very stylish and well turned out woman. In her last days she was in silk pyjamas and lipstick. Revisiting the history of this chest made me dig out a bottle of perfume of hers that she used to wear. Smelling it takes me straight back to her. There are more plants that hang beautifully from this chest, these ones are pretty resilient but i love watching them grow. The painting at the back was one I found on the street in Camden over ten years ago. I have no idea who the artist is but i love it so much. When I can have people over I’m going to open up the chest and host a decadent cocktail party. How things will be savoured when they return.

So here I am. Nostalgic and full of memory. I’m going to allow myself to bathe in it for a while. I can be present tomorrow.

Laurie Nouchka
10 May 2020 8:07am

Images attached

Nouchka_unintentional shrine no.1.JPG
Nouchka_unintentional shrine no.2.JPG
Nouchka_unintentional shrine no.3.JPG
Veeranganakumari Solanki
Veeranganakumari Solanki
11 May 2020 1:22pm

Domestic Light
From the library shelf. I sometimes make my way into this room full of collected books. Every time I need something to respond to, to learn, to inspire, I find it in here. The text you see here is from a book on photography. Without listing details of the book (since this will divert into photography), what struck me here was the way in which light plays such an important role in our everyday. We often overanalyse the simplest situations only to realise that the everyday is what we already have around us and outside.

Domestic Moving
Pressed between the leaves of a travel diary, I found this menu. It could only have been from my great-grandfather. My grandfather was born a few years later. I’ve never heard of a blackcap pudding (have you?), and wondered about the fancy pastries that they served then. I decided to spend my morning having a go at my first trial recipe for Kazandibi.

Domestic Outside
The Cannon Ball tree is said to be a native of South America. In India, the flowers of this tree are often referred to as Kailashpati, since it resembles a Shivaling, of the Lord Shiva. When the cannonball fruit falls and bursts and wild pigs devour this pulpy stench. The flower though has an intoxicating smell – it is my go-to tree every day. The jackfruit tree in front of it is laden too with fruit during these summer months.

melissa staiger
11 May 2020 3:59pm

Thinking about Charlie’s lecture – and visually going down the hallway!

I created a new collage on paper for this project titled, “Laundry Room Art”. It is about 18 x 24 inches and made of painted paper.

The hallways of my apartment building are beige, terracotta-ish floors and brown doors and trim everywhere. They are warm but feel like a desert with nothing growing except a mixture of cooking smells and laundry in various states.

This work is for the building – I wanted to create an oasis in the desert colors. Lush bright color pops of metallics and fluorescent pinks. Greens and blues to give some fresh cool color. The shapes are reminiscent of a hanging garden something luxurious and pleasing like a beautiful flower arrangement without any structure.

This cork board has been hanging over the laundry room folding table since I moved in 2004 and it never had anything on it! I decided to install my work on paper with clear pushpins as a celebration that someone actually used it.

The toy monkey and child’s sleeping bag were there and I didn’t move them. I thought they resonated with the collage shape-wise. They also had a sour smell.

Karen Levitov
Karen Levitov
11 May 2020 10:55pm

I loved Charlie’s visual essay and it made me consider various spaces of my home through various lenses. I arranged a collection of objects in two spaces to see how the differences in where and how they are placed alters the meanings and perceptions of the objects.

A Gathering or Two

A gathering of small objects, none bigger than a pear, form an intimate still life in the niche of a 19th century Korean cabinet. From upper left, going clockwise, a small watercolor of flowers painted by my mother, a ceramic swan made by my daughter, three elephants from Kenya watched over by a fabric figure from Botswana (with her hair tied in an elaborate fashion to resemble the cow’s horns beloved by her herder community), a plant (a gift), three perfect pears on a blue ceramic dish, two Degas figures my family and I molded one evening just for fun. Secrets hidden in the drawers.

These same objects, plus a few more, going up the stairs. From the bottom, the little flower painting, Degas dancers (for my daughter the dancer), pears, elephants and cow lady, a favorite photo taken in Amsterdam, the swan, a sphinx my son made, a small sculpture, a plant, and a painting by Matthew Gehring. Step up and take a look.

William Hughes
William Hughes
12 May 2020 6:13am

(1 of 2)
Following Charlies lecture, I started to think about which places in my home are prominent throughout my memories; where I have spent the most time with my family to then create exhibitions / artworks in them. The work I have created adapts themes I spoke about in the first assignment, those being: the processes around memory and remembering; relationships with those over video call or are no longer with us with an emphasis and memories of my grandparents’ home; exploring deteriorated and weathered thoughts, faded memories and repetition. The responses I have curated explore these themes through my own artwork, handed down material, family possessions and nostalgic material. I have chosen to further explore my living room, my garden and my hallway because of the personal significance of these spaces. The inclusion of the family material links personal memories to more universal themes of memory: although these are mine, everyone can apply their own experiences and ideas to the memories. All memory is individual and unique – it dies with each person; hand-picked remnants of your experiences live on. These are depictions of remnants of memories: my own, my parents, my grandparents. Some visually are more abstracted and weathered suggesting involuntarily but unpreventable loss of realisation and awareness of our memories.

The three responses have been attached in two parts. This post shows two pieces. The third piece is shown in a separate post as there were a few photographs from this that I wanted to show.

Shrine to ‘your’ memory: A development of a piece from the previous assignment. An exploration of individual history and memory with handed down ‘heirlooms’ in a shrine like fashion. The chimney breast and mantel piece are a monument area, a natural plinth in our house that is contested for by myself and my sister. A constant in this curated domestic space is the clock. For as long as I can remember, the clock has been a part of my life: handed down to my mother from her grandmother, taking pride of place on the mantel piece. Over the years we’ve had to fix this, restore to artifact. The inclusion shares conceptual similarity to the piece. Both are faded artifacts that link to intimate family moments. Eventually these moments will fade into what’s next, after deterioration, which mirrors fragility in consciousness. The residuals of colour and shape remain, eventually fading.

Block-out: I decided to explore the garden, specifically the remaining materials, structures and life in this space. This piece responds as much too individual memory as it does to studio culture on an artist. Finishing university early, lots of my materials were left in my studio for marking; therefore I’m creating my own canvases with what I have on hand, in this case: bed sheets and a pallet. Lock down on studio culture is a liberating sense which occasionally gets clouded with the reality of the situation we’re in. In regard to memory: a block out is ‘Interruption, complete or partial, permanent or temporary’: this piece explores this process. The white canvases block off areas of the scene, leaving suggestions of the space. On top sits a damaged photograph where the emulsion is scraped off. These textures respond to the brutal nature of forgetting, the uncompromising truth of loss.

Hughes_Shrine to
Hughes_Shrine to
William Hughes
William Hughes
12 May 2020 6:17am

(2 of 2)
Photos of the space have been put together here.

Overhaul Exhibition: Following the lecture I wanted to fully create an exhibition in a domestic space that links parts of the home together: that being the hallway. Overhaul was created in the space based on residual mark, memory; nostalgic handed down material and the concept of ‘if walls could talk’. The amount of memories these walls we live in would hold, if they could talk these would be the most reliable interpretations.

The corner showing the front door acts as a lightbox, illuminating hand annotated slides I inherited: physical reinforcements of memory. The canvas studies in this corner, naturally framed by the curtain are as much as exploration of material as it is process. Materials are forcefully pushed through cracks in emulsion: residual texture and colour showing permanency in our consciousness. The inclusion of the handed down material weights the work down, they feel domestic individually but relatable as we all have these relevant, nostalgic objects. One of the images shows a frame with material in front of a window. The blurs and suggestions of colour here feel spiritual, suggesting acceptance of bereavement or loss and hazy, blurry memories. Its fragile yet strong and yet could shatter so easily. In the downstairs toilet, I recreated the piece from the first assignment exploring encoded memories through familiar scents. ‘Residual processes in the piece suggest faded colour and tone imprinted in long term memories. But the idea of the familiar being taken from us is shown in the piece in the sink. A damaged, peeling emulsion lift from a Polaroid photograph giving a sense that this memory could completely fade soon.’ Finishing in the space was a projection of a damaged super 8 film loop; a film of a family holiday shot by my grandfather which was naturally damaged before I marked it further. The scratched harsh marks cover the film frame in areas of the film adding moments of complete confusion and harshness; brutal, dominating marks taking over our consciousness.

Overhaul was live streamed on Instagram on Sunday evening, where I walked around the space showing the work to those who watched. Before going live, for around 10 minutes, I had a piece of text up explaining the work where I then walked around the space without speaking. I wanted the only noises in the space to be that of the projector (as this to me suggests memory, the processes behind thinking due to the mechanical nature of the object) and the natural domestic setting sounds (of doors closing, people walking and talking in the house or street).

Gemma Dunford
Gemma Dunford
12 May 2020 6:18am

Seeing Charlie’s lecture, I was sensitive to the different interpretations of the rooms that were presented. In particular with Nicola Lane – At Home: A Living Centenary, and Hetain Patel – The Jump, 2016, I saw the notion of the family introduced, and felt how the connection to a room could change your perception towards it. This spurred the feelings that led to the final work I created.

A snapshot – everyday surfaces
As we enter week 8 of lockdown, I’m hyper-aware that our memories are mostly being created within our own homes. In my case, within the four walls of our ground floor flat, and the small garden out the back.

This new series of imagery focuses on my fascination with the surfaces I see every day and the memories that become attached to them.

Garden table
This surface belongs to the garden table that is often hidden away under a weather sheet. The polaroid depicts the results of an over-ambitious BBQ. It involved cooking for my boyfriend and me, and then also for his family and delivering it to their doorstep across the road so they could enjoy the BBQ too. It was smokey, chaotic, and the first BBQ we had ever done at that size. But when we finally set out on the table, with our cooked food, and our tulips there to accompany it all, it felt fulfilling.

Wooden table
Our flat’s table. This surface is my work desk, our dinner table, and gatherer of all the random things that don’t yet have a home. The polaroid placed on top of it shows when it also became the home to a tense trivial pursuit game that helped pass the Sunday by. Starting with coffee and ending with red wine, I felt the stresses unwind as the competitiveness, laced with love, ended up in a neck and neck finish, and a loss from me – which I took rather well.

The Chesterfield
The beloved, and knackered, Chesterfield is the surface that can be seen here. It takes pride of place in the sun, and it’s the perfect place to be solitary – reading, dosing, or just looking at the flowers growing in the window box. The polaroid depicts my boyfriend taking his lunch break from work. As we now work side by side, and I witness every moment of his working day including his lunch. After eating, he always has a moment lying on the sofa and warming his face in the sun as he reads. I capture it here, as one day we’ll go back to work, and I won’t be able to look at him relaxing as I work from just a short way away.

I wanted these images to capture the joy that the surface gave me before they become just a surface again.

j o h n r o s
12 May 2020 10:25am

this essay is genius! loved it! really looking forward to seeing this exhibit.
here are my visuals.

j o h n r o s
12 May 2020 10:25am

a short video to accompany the piece

j o h n r o s
12 May 2020 10:26am

and a text component that should be viewed with the work.

Jeannine Bardo
12 May 2020 12:09pm

“Placement II” A curation of objects placed with no intention and left for inspiration.

I really enjoyed Charlie’s attention to different places in the home and I have a long list of favorites that can open up a whole new series of explorations for me. I found myself noticing ways that I create spaces that are both well thought out as a whole and a collection of little questions that just sit for sometimes years. I returned to this theme again since it informs my living space and addresses my unconscious musings, that as of this moment I was unaware of. This part of me is persistent and leads to organic assemblages that didn’t begin with a certain intention, but they begin to reveal themselves to me through visual connections of color, shapes and surfaces.

The images I am presenting are a group of collected art works that found themselves placed in my kitchen until I found a suitable place to hang them. Instead they ended up having a conversation with each other that really pleased me and I am loathe to remove them from this intimate setting because if they end up on a wall they won’t be able to share the space with the stones and the shells and the leaf and any other objects I put with them. The artworks from left to right are by Elena Soterakis, Josh Willis, my own work, Tatiana Arocha and James Cullinane.

I am an empty nester and I am living with my husband and my dog in a home that I love, but because the house is empty I have neglected almost every room except my kitchen. Time has stopped. This course has given me the inspiration to return to curate a domestic space that pleases me aesthetically and emotionally.

Vishwa Shroff
13 May 2020 2:24am

Sorry for this delay, but here it is:

In the absence of the physical, the frame of the image limits the experience of the work or object. I have been thinking about how we move around to view objects. Our movement defines perception but when this frame is fixed, does this change our understanding of the object, or have we just created another object that can once more be replaced or rehomed infinitely?

Referencing Louise Lawler’s 1994 ‘Foreground’, silver gelatine print, I place here 4 drawings of shadows that appear in one corner of the house, on to a table facing the window from which one can see the subject of the drawing. The image I have taken doesn’t permit this view, instead, the drawings are layered with shadows of the aforementioned window, making the drawings impossible to see until sundown within the image presented with the intention to question the absence of space to navigate around the object.

Vishwa Shroff
13 May 2020 9:54pm

Here is the Image