As my website, waynechisnall.com, is in the process of being redeveloped,
it is currently rerouting viewers here to my blog. So, for the benefit of those
trying to find out about my work through my site, now seems
as good a time as any to have a mini retrospective on my blog. What follows is a small
section of my work in roughly reverse chronological order (there are a few time
jumps here and there), highlighting various themes, motifs, and developments in
my work. To help keep it short I've chosen to focus predominantly on my
sculptural work.
'Tattooed Tumour Box'
This sculpture evolved from my interest in applying organic-looking
structural developments (that have gone awry) to very geometric forms. In this
case I have taken as my inspiration the mechanism of a cancer cell, where
growth has gone unchecked and produced an unstable-looking, asymmetrical form.
The 'tattooed' element of the piece harks back to growing up with a tattooist
father but the style of the drawings relate more to my early career as a
technical illustrator. As for the subject of the drawings - the starting point
was based upon found materials that I had collected for use in future
sculptures, but which I chose to morph together or exaggerate beyond
recognition.
Initially, I started off the drawing process by rendering elements of
miscellaneous found objects, and morphing them together but once I got into the
flow of it, and started to really develop a feel for the world that my drawings
evolved from, I mostly abandoned the use of existing source materials, and
opted for the freedom of simply making it all up.
There are lots of drawn elements of the piece that I've especially
enjoyed creating, and one of them is the underside of the base section of the
sculpture, and therefore probably the part that is least likely to be seen. So
I thought that I'd give it an airing here. As the circular hole in the centre
is for the insertion of the pole that makes up part of the work's metal stand,
I thought that I'd make it a feature of the overall design, and incorporated a
sphincter element to the drawing. The sigils which appear within to outer ring
reference occult interests as well as being a tribute to the flamboyantly
entertaining comic book writer, Grant Morrison.
'Crutch And Tumour Box'
With ‘Crutch & Tumour Box’ I was trying to apply organic principles
to something that is obviously man-made and rectilinear. Taking the construct
of the box as a starting point, this piece, like tattooed Tumour Box, pursues
the biological anomaly of the cancerous cell as a mode of enquiry. Teetering
like a top-heavy fraction, ‘Crutch & Tumour Box’s’ comical appearance is
further heightened by the necessitation of its crutch section - a support that
is deliberately undermined by the application of a wheel.
'Planetoid 210'
'Planetoid 210' is a realisation of one of a series of sketches that I've
been working on for some time. These sketches all involve architectural
structures or towers sitting atop planetoids or spherical bodies that are
obviously too small to realistically support them. The original drawing was
inspired by something that happened to me whilst I was in Goa, India. I was
swimming in the sea and noticed an interesting seed pod floating towards me.
And as I picked it up to investigate further a small colony of tiny crabs
decided that they must have hit dry land and disembarked onto my hand.
'Orifice Tower'
Orifice Tower started out as a quick thumbnail sketch that I drew whilst
waiting for a talk to commence at the Jerwood Space in Bankside. I can't
remember now what the talk was about but at that time I was working on some
small sculptures that were basically wooden boxes that incorporated carved
apertures or orifices. By this stage I'd become aware of the fact that much of
my work was getting smaller and smaller so I decided to remedy this by creating
elevated versions of these new Orifice Box sculptures. This also tied in with
my love of tower structures.
'Frankenstein's Orifice Box'
As well as the obvious sexual interpretation of the orifice element that
has emerged in many of my recent works, my main interest in the device, lies in
it being the portal between the internal and the external. My 'Frankenstein's
Orifice Box' piece also incorporates another motif that has run through much of
my work - that of the nail box (more on the this element further on in this
blog post). If you peer in through the sculpture's orifice you will see an
internal, illuminated, nail-encrusted wooden box on stilts.
'Horned God Orifice Box'
Evolving out of a long series of small, wheeled box sculptures (that were
themselves a progression from my earlier box tower sculpture, The City), Horned
Orifice God Box is the first of these small box pieces that dispensed with the
magnified glass window, and adopted the carved wooden orifice.
'RCA Secret Postcards'
For the last fifteen years or so I've been taking part in the Royal College
of Art's secret postcard exhibition that raises money to help support the
college's students. The idea behind the annual event is that the college
invites students and well known selected artists to contribute postcard-sized
artworks to the sale, and all works remain anonymous until the point of sale.
Most exhibited postcards are two dimensional but on occasion I like to go
that bit extra and produce sculptural postcards.
'Orifice'
This long, thin, wall-mounted sculpture, simply titled 'Orifice', was the
first of my orifice pieces, and there was quite a gap in time between this and the
emergence of the later ones. Regardless of the obvious sexual connotations, as
previously mentioned, the orifice form actually came about through a chance
observation. Some years ago I had a small oval-shaped cut on my hand that had
become slightly red and swollen. I hadn't paid it much attention until I
noticed a large van that had some slight damage where something had pierced
it's metal side, causing a similar curvature to the edge of the puncture's
surface as to that of my own puncture. It was only a small observation but
sometimes that's all it takes to trigger a train of creative thought.
'War of The Rosies'
I'm not sure that my sculptural work qualifies 100% as assemblage. It's
true that most of my three dimensional pieces employ the use of found
materials, but unlike traditional assemblage, where found objects are often
merely stuck together (I'm in no way deriding assemblage – in fact many of my
favourite sculptures are assemblages), in my work I feel the need to manipulate
the materials to a certain degree, in order to make them my own. Even with my
box/tower structures, I find it hard to just take existing boxes and use them
as they are. I still feel the need to create them from scratch; from bits of
old wood – which ironically makes it look like I've just used pre-existing
boxes.
One of the problems with using found objects in artwork is that sometimes
one comes across a piece of material that is just perfect as it is, and
altering it in any way might even go as far as to lessen its artistic merit.
And as an avid collector (read 'hoarder') of materials I often find bits of
flotsam and jetsam that fit just this criteria.
One such piece, where I've hardly intervened is 'War of The Rosies',
which I prefer to refer to as a Minimal Intervention Piece, rather than a
sculpture proper. The work is composed of two separate elements; a vintage,
leather and steel, child's baseball mask, and a pair of old horns – probably
antelope. I'm not sure why I originally put the two items together, but to my
mind, they produce something greater than the sum of their parts. And isn't
that what art is about? (so maybe they are artworks after all). And the reason
for the title you ask? Well, the horns and mask combo remind me of some bizarre
warrior mask, and both elements were gifted to me by ex-girlfriends, Rose and
Rosie.
‘The Pharos Cyclopes’
Although I have always had a love of fables and mythology, my recent
interest in Cyclopes stems from a re-evaluation of my Box Sculpture series.
Originally I saw the lone magnified lenses set into each of these box pieces as
a window into an artificially constructed world – a world where the lens acts
as a fairy tale or dream-like filter.
However, after being surrounded by these works for some time I started to
get an uneasy feeling of being watched. And rather than just being things into
which one could peer, I was starting to see the lens as a two-way device, with
it also acting as an eye - allowing the internal narrative of the boxes to view
the world outside. It is through this altered perception of the work that I
started to imagine the collective resonances of certain gathered materials
generating a subtle form of awareness of their own
One of the reasons that I love working in assemblage is that the more you
work on a project, the more you see in it. Although you always start off with a
set idea and plan, it is often through the construction process that other
influences emerge and you become aware of underlying themes and thoughts that
have been milling around in your head. Sometimes it is not until the work is
finished that these aspects reveal themselves, or until someone points them out
to you.
And it is through this fluid mix of ideas that I came to produce these
two chimerical figures – appearing part Victorian robot, part CCTV camera and
part Cyclops. The materials that I chose to use exerted an influence of their
own, giving the finished piece a naive retro-cybernetic feel as I try to
integrate the organic and the mechanical.
The Pharos part of name is a reference to the great lighthouse of Pharos.
I see the light that emanates from the heads of these sculptures as
representing both an internal consciousness seeking to understand an external
world and as the illumination by which to view this dark strange world.
'Nail Box'
‘Nail Box’ is a sculpture greatly indebted to and influenced by the
minkisi artefacts of central Africa. Many of these ritualistic objects are
carved wooden totems that have had nails and other metal items hammered into
them. However, whereas the minkisi derive their power from their contents, with
‘Nail Box’ I was trying to create something that had a powerful presence
derived purely from its adornment of carefully selected nails, screws and other
various metal implements.
Whilst most of the nails and screws used in this piece were found in
London, (anywhere from the streets of Hackney to the inside of the Dome of St.
Paul’s Cathedral) much of it was collected from the my travels around Britain
and abroad, including Europe, Mexico, Cambodia, Thailand, Tunisia and India.
'Mutant Nail Heart'
As is the case with many of my sculptures, the found materials used in
the construction of these three nail pieces were selected for their ‘resonance’
and collected over several years. By using so many metal items that had
interacted with the elements and their specific environments I hoped to create pieces
whose elements would cumulatively generate a magnified resonance.
'Nail Heart'
Considering the obsessive nature behind the way I collect and hoard the
materials that I use in my work, I see these sculptures as totems of the ritualistic
side of everyday life - as physical embodiments of the personal belief systems
we all create around us.
'The City'
While much of my work centres on the theme of memory or its fallibility
(this is more strongly evident in my pieces that incorporate or recreate
childhood artefacts and toys) a continually re-occurring theme or motif that
runs through much of the work is that of the wheeled box or tower. This theme
developed through concerns with notions on containment and the urge to possess,
and with the lack of mobility or freedom that material possessions bring.
'The City' (detail)
Being the most architectural and theatrical piece in a series of four
tower sculptures, all of them on wheels, 'The City' is predominantly made up of
fragments of found objects and curios. Yet through the use of tiny display
cases and cabinets (themselves made from found materials) I intended to elevate
these oddities to the status of artefacts, giving the sculpture the overall
appearance of a nightmarish, mobile museum. The sculpture's title derives from
the fact that in it, each compartmentalised environment plays out its own
narrative, seemingly oblivious to that of its neighbour (much like the
inhabitants of a real city).
'Fetish'
Fetish is the last piece in a series of four wheeled sculptures that came
about through my interest in our obsessions with materials and material
possessions. After a friend commented upon how much my love of certain
materials was similar to the intensity of feeling that a fetishist has for
whatever it is that they fetishize, I decided to make a piece that represented
that side of human nature. So I decided to use hair as it was one of the less
clichéd of the fetish materials and also because it can also trigger the opposite
response in some people – that of revulsion.
'Book Tower'
‘Book Tower’ is the smallest piece in a series of four wheeled tower
sculptures. The series draws attention to our attitudes towards objects and
materials – addressing our need to possess and how this can impact upon our
sense of freedom and mobility. The disproportionately large wheels were
originally intended to serve as a reminder of our overall loss of mobility and
earlier nomadic life style. Although sadly, regarding the current state of
refugee migrations, the wheels now act as a reminder of the opposite.
Being made of books, ‘Book Tower’ is already loaded with multiple
readings. Especially when one realises that many of the books used are very
old, beautifully leather bound bibles.
As well as being necessary for the construction of the sculpture, the
deliberate (almost taboo) cutting up of these books provokes us to consider the
relationship we have with them. Whether we regard books as sacred because of
the knowledge they contain, the holiness of their religious text or because of
the rarity and antiquity of old editions, there is little doubting the hold
they have over us.
'Magnet'
Magnet is the largest piece in this first series of tower sculptures (the
others being The City, Book Tower, and Fetish) - a series that relates to our
obsession with objects and material possessions. All four sculptures have
aesthetically over-sized wheels, intended as a comment on the mobility
restrictions that having so many possessions places upon us as a species.
Whereas the other works in the series dealt with revered or fetish
materials, Magnet (being made of thousands of plastic toys) was initially
supposed to represent the disposable and worthless aspect of consumer society.
Yet, knowing the quirks of human nature, I turned this notion of worthlessness
on its head by incorporating several prized and sort after ‘collectables’.
Originally named Toy Tower the piece was re-named Magnet after its first public
showing, when it became apparent that young children, and older toy
enthusiasts, found it difficult to resist physically interacting with the
sculpture. At its first exhibition four young boys actually managed to wheel
Magnet out of the gallery before the invigilator spotted the piece was missing
and hurriedly managed to retrieved it before it got too far down the street.
'Book Tower II (Nostalgia For a Childhood That Wasn't Mine)'
Book Tower II came about many years after my original Book Tower
sculpture, and is constructed in a very different way. With this piece all the
books sections have slits cut into them that match the exact thickness of the partner
book that they slot into. This might not sound difficult but the problem with
constructing the piece (working from the bottom up) is that in order to
processed up the various levels, and to cut the dust jackets to match the
slits, is that the work needs to be
constantly assembled, unassembled, and then reassembled. And it quickly becomes
very easy to lose track of which book is supposed to slot into which.
'And When I'm a Man, I'll Think as a Man'
Much of my work centres on the theme of memory and its fallibility. This
is more strongly evident in pieces that incorporate or recreate childhood
artefacts and toys. A prime example of this is ‘And When I’m a Man, I'll Think
as a Man’, the life size sculpture of myself as a twelve piece, pre-assembly,
model kit. An important aspect of the piece is its bright green colour, which
was chosen to match my memory of that of a cheap, plastic, childhood toy -
realizing that the memory would have mutated, and exaggerated the luridness of
the colour.
As well as being made from 12 separate body casts of myself (a self
portrait, I suppose) 'And When I'm A Man' is based on the type of model kit
that I used to buy as a child. When creating the piece I was interested in
childhood perceptions of adulthood and the role that toys played in this -
realising that many figurative toys were that of adult characters, and
therefore tools for adult role-play.
'Baby Kit'
I created Baby Kit immediately after finishing my life-sized human model
kit sculpture, 'And When I'm a Man' back in 1998. The piece was partly a
reaction against the idea that all the parts of a standard model kit assembly
should make a unified whole (if put together the components of Baby Kit would
actually create two impossibly weird-limbed deformities). But in selecting the
right dolls for the sculpture I soon realised that the doll makers themselves
had also been creating disturbing hybrids. The largest doll that I used for the
construction was actually a composite of different human developmental stages.
The limbs and torso were a mixture of post and prepubescent, whilst the face
was mostly that of a young child.
And the story of how I came across this larger doll is probably my most
extreme case of serendipity to date (but I do generally seem to live a life of
weird coincidences). At the planning stage for Baby Kit I'd been collecting
second-hand dolls for a while and made an actual sized, rough charcoal drawing
of how I envisaged the eventual sculpture. And that's where the project ground
to a halt. For I quickly realised that I didn't have a doll big enough to
provide three of the elements that I needed to make the sculpture. So, I
decided to put the project on the back burner until something presented itself.
Fortunately I didn't have to wait long. Within a few days I was walking back
from college, and mulling the problem over in my head, when I had a sudden urge
to change my route, and walk a different way home. As I did so I came across a
black plastic bin bag at the side of the road, and sticking out of it was the
lower half of a large plastic doll's leg. So I pulled on it and out came the whole
doll, exactly the size that I needed to complete my sculpture. 'The Universe
provides', as our hippier selves might say.
'Dreams of Being Batman'
Dreams of Being Batman is part of a small body of work that came about
through an interest in childhood perceptions of adulthood.
The fibreglass head is made from a cast of my own head. The colour of the
piece, and the way that the steel armature gives it the appearance of floating
in mid air is intended to suggest the insubstantial nature of dreams and
fantasies. The elongated ears (or horns) in the sculpture are a reference to
Batman, one of my favourite super heroes from childhood. The fact that the head
looks nothing like the actual costumed head of the Batman can be seen either as
a celebration of the fact that imagination (especially the imagination of a
child) is not held back by the obstacles of reality, or as a reminder of the
chasm that exists between what we once wanted to be and what we eventually
became.
I said that I was going to mostly concentrate on my sculptural work in
this blog post but considering that drawing and painting is also an important
part of my practice I've decided to add a few examples at the end here, just to
give a taste of some of the stages in the course of my painterly pursuits.
'Kitchen Blue'
Kitchen Blue and The Ambassadors are both from a series of paintings that
play with the graphic line or with notions of the term ‘graphic’. Whereas the
figures in The Ambassadors are all reduced down to the bare minimum needed to
accurately convey the visual message of the drawing (a skill that was honed
during my earlier career as a technical illustrator), The figure in Kitchen
Blue is painted in a more realistic yet visceral manner – contrasting with the
cold, clinical lines of the background.
Other pieces in the series are derived from acts that are often deemed
graphic. With violence being one such act, The Ambassadors takes its figurative
element from a photograph that appeared in many of the British tabloids some
years ago. It shows a fight between some English and Turkish 'football fans'.
'The Ambassadors'
This photo of The Ambassadors shows the side view of the painting where
you can see how the lines sheer off over the edge. The white line of the
drawing is actually the primed surface showing through, so when you actually
view the piece in the flesh, so to speak, your eye fluctuates slightly between
the painted surface and the line drawing below. This can give the impression
that the line of the drawing vibrates slightly.
'Spidey Pods'
The Spidey Pods piece came about through the merging of a few different
ideas and interests. Part of it was to do with my interest in nostalgia,
childhood perceptions of adulthood and childhood heroes (hence the elements of
the 70s style Spiderman costume that cloth the pod sections). The work was also
influenced by an interest in forms that reoccur within larger forms. Just prior
to making the preparatory drawing for the Spidey Pods piece I had been peeling
back the skin of a segment of orange and marvelling at the mass of smaller,
tapered pod-like segments that it was made up of.
It was whilst sketching out the initial drawing that I also remembered a
scene from the original 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers', in which the main
character from the movie finds himself in the back of a truck, on top of a pile
of giant pods. So again, there is this reworking of elements from my childhood
- with films having been another big influence on my early life.
'Octopussy'
This is an acrylic painting on a section of early/mid-20th Century
plywood packing crate, sourced from the Victoria and Albert Museum, London. I
chose to paint it in a flat Pop Art/cartoon style to heighten the contrast
between the paint and the plywood's naturally aged surface. It is intended as a
contemporary take on the traditional Shunga prints of Japan. In keeping with
the Japanese theme, I incorporated the octopus tentacle (a heavily eroticised
image in much of the material that comes out of Japan). However, here I've reversed
the power balance of the usually dominant phallus metaphor
by having the woman take control of the tentacle, and use it for her own sexual gratification.
'Sun Worshippers #1'
The Sun Worshippers series is taken a collection of fast drawings that I
made of people viewing Eliasson's Weather Project when it featured in the Tate
Modern's great Turbine Hall in 2003. Whereas these first draughts where all
completed in under 10 or 20 seconds, the Sun Worshippers paintings (enamel on
spray painted aluminium) were laboriously scaled up and painted to give the
illusion of the same flow and immediacy of line that is evident in the original
thumb nail sketches.
