Jessica Bark – SITE SPECIFIC PERFORMANCE

Facts and Fairytales – an art ‘book.’

Jessica Bark / February 11, 2015 / Main Page, Tasks

Finding time to pick up a good piece of fiction and get lost within the story is rare. In fact the only time I find myself lost in any form of fiction is when I’m asleep, in an allusive non-realistic dream.I know this is the case with a lot of university students. We often find ourselves only rummaging through book after book to gain factual knowledge or understand different theories or interpretations.

Therefore I decided to a create a book of fairy-tales.

Why fairy-tales? With the stress of deadlines, research and performance – it is nice to sometimes just follow a story that seems utterly unrealistic. More importantly, a fairy-tale book can be read anywhere, it isn’t attached to a particular site.

I thought back to a time of when fairy-tales really meant something. Childhood. However, there’s little use reading a fantasy story now and hoping to get lost within it like I did when I was eight.

I decided to look into the original series of Grimm’s Fairy-tales, first published in 1812.

I wasn’t thinking of the commercialised versions with happy endings such as Hansel and Gretel killing the witch and finding their way home, but the real true publications which were censored and some banned for being far too violently descriptive and frightening for children. In these versions, Hansel and Gretel brutally murder the witch, never find their parents and are forced to live a life in the woods…alone. Perhaps too frightening for children, but perfect for students aged 18 upwards.

I was set on this idea, but I still needed to make something that was interesting to look at, but practical in terms of time. I decided my book must have many pictures (after all, a picture is worth a thousand words), short snippets of fantasy text and be visually stimulating.

I went back to my thought of dreams. If the only time I managed to get lost in a story was in a dream, then I would have to create a book that could be read when sleeping. Impossible. Or not…

In fact there is a huge market of ‘books’ which cater to sleep and dreaming. Baby mobiles! Often having different characters, shapes, colours: all in order to create a story, sort of safety blanket to encourage happy dreams if a baby does stir from sleep.

I began to create my own, with string, burnt paper and dead flowers -using characters from Grimm’s fairy-tales. A scary picture of Hansel and Gretel pushing the witch into an oven, a boy who had lied so much that his nose became too big for him to walk, and his parents abandoned him and short sections of text all about the consequences of being bad.

My art book, on the contrary to traditional fairy-tale books is specific to site.
It can only be read to its full potential hanging over a bed. This is because its full potential would mean engaging with it when stirred from sleep, with the hope it might influence your dreams.

Listening on the stairwell of Lincoln’s Library.

Jessica Bark / February 9, 2015 / Tasks

When given the task: Sit and listen. Write down everything you hear – all speech noises etc, to create a literary soundtrack I decided to do this in a secluded corner of the first floor stairwell.
I thought that this location would be a quiet place, and that I would find myself only writing down things I heard in the distance…

There is a low humming sound. It sounds as though it is coming from something electrical, perhaps the large light above me.
Doors are creaking in the distance, with the accompaniment of footsteps. The wind is blowing through a gap in the door. It is creating an eerie sound which is reminiscent of a woman’s scream.

When the wind stops, you can hear a distant sound of traffic, cars racing by. An engine stalls, but the driver manages to restart it within a few seconds, and they drive away.

Footsteps in the distance, getting closer and louder. The door next to me creaks as it swings open. Footsteps. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight – the footsteps are getting quieter and quieter – nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen – I can barely hear them now – eighteen, nineteen… There is silence.

The wind continues to howl, with the undertones of the electrical humming. Several footsteps can suddenly be heard in the distance.

A door from the second floor opens quickly and closes with a huge bang. There are footsteps… too many to count. There must be two or three people creating those footsteps. There are three. It sounds like someone is rustling something, perhaps in a bag. I hear one person say “Yeah, five until seven, what?” to which another replies “yeah five until seven, i know.” All three people laugh. The laughing only lasts a couple of seconds, then the door next to me slams.

I return to the noises of the wind and humming. Once again I can hear the traffic in the distance.

I hear faint footsteps, the door creaks open, but only half way. I hear someone say “exclusive report, even though his contract is only worth twelve pounds fifty.” The door slams shut, with nobody coming past my secluded corner. Suddenly, it creaks open again and I hear footsteps as someone walks past me – one, two, three – and so on.

As this person continues stepping up the stairs, another person steps down. One, two, three, four, five – they stop. A phone rings. “Allo, allo? Oui Je regrette beacoup” were the only french words I could pick out. The person speaking is laughing, then suddenly – six, seven, eight, nine, ten – footsteps back up the stairs, and a door slams.

I can no longer hear anyone.

In just five minutes of listening, things could be heard that you wouldn’t expect to hear in a library. More importantly, on a stairwell. It proves that no library is “quiet.” Sound will accompany any environment. It made me question, is there really anywhere that is truly silent?

Jessica Bark