There is an impossibility of embarking on a project such as DRAWN because of its inherent potential infinity. I began by drawing a series of lines to create boundaries in space and time. First on a map, to define a geographical space around the gallery within which to focus. Then a number of lines in time, deadlines within which to work. Then many linear journeys, sometimes spirals, circles, zig zags or reversals within which to collect the material. Then physical lines to measure out a paper container within which to present it all. Now lines of text to explain it. The result of the boundaries imposed is a kind of random selection. Like a scientist who throws a frame on the ground and analyses that which is alive in that small piece of earth on that particular day. The necessity of limits means that not everything can be revealed. Each view comes into being in its own special way.
The journeys I took also revealed the boundaries drawn by others. Some places were impossible to penetrate, doors closed, authority figures absent or time and inclination scarce. Others were open, inviting and expansive. Layers of accessibility sit one beside the other. The village-like market stall with its owner and wares on view, jars with the anonymous corporate tower, its activity hidden behind a glossy wall and a smart receptionist. Limits of others have also contributed to the flavor and content of Drawn.
On many sun-filled days I walked, passed by, went in, rang the buzzers and knocked the knocks, collecting the drawings; the area was a pleasure to wonder in. Rich in history, conflict, atmosphere and continually changing; I found myself looking in a way that I had never looked before. Now I see lines everywhere. The whole world has come to be somehow drawn. Everything touches something. Lines touch and make shapes. Everything a shape. Everything lines touching.
I met colourful characters and there were encouraged to look with me, to see drawings in their everyday lives. Even if they did not consider themselves artistic or creative, was there a drawing they were referring to, unintentional, ignored, behind them, in front of them, to the left, to the right? Through conversation, networks emerged and I was given trails to follow. People draw invisible lines, counter to the planned streets, to touch others via something social, not geographic. And there are the connecting lines that I have drawn myself, themes I have identified and territories I have seen. Lines I could continue to draw to become increasingly and infinitely dense. Drawn should give a sense of the heart, muscle and skin of the area. A story of how its organs work together to make it the unique space it is and told through the method of drawing.
Assisted by Anna Richardson
Designed in collaboration with Marit Munzberg
Curated by The Drawing Room