My sculptures from the sky | flypast on Google Earth

Quite a lot of the sculptures that I have made over the years are large enough to be visible from Google earth.

See and download the full gallery on posterous

While trying to get these screengrabs of them from above I noticed that you can make flypast tours with Google Earth, so I made one, of all of my work that can be seen from Google Earth (or Google maps).

Have a lightning tour if you fancy...

Just open this file in Google Earth.

Click here to download:

David Parfitt's sculptures.kmz (4 KB)

Alternatively you can click this link to see them in Google Maps, but you won't get the flypast tour, and the images are grotty.

House of the Vernacular – Missing it already

The people that work behind the scenes making an exhibition seldom get to say anything about the experience, so with Fabrica’s new emphasis on giving all aspects of its operations a voice, I thought it would be worth marking the deconstruction of the show with a post. 

I am often involved with the installation of exhibitions at Fabrica and am accustomed to the amazingly friendly, family-like atmosphere of the place. So much so that I sometimes wonder if the work done before and after a show opens plays a major part in the close knit nature of the place.

The design of the exhibition House of Vernacular, from the beginning was a collaborative work in its own right, Martin Parr and the directors of Fabrica fleshed out the look and feel of the ‘environment’ as though it were an installation. Colin Holden Associates were brought on-board at an early stage to allow the practicalities of the build to influence the design constructively, and the many elements of each room and location were the result of playful experimentation that everyone felt they had an opportunity to influence. 

This approach requires trust and a certainty that the broad experience of those involved is pulling together – luckily Fabrica, Colin Holden and the many freelancers working on the show have a collective expertise that is formidable, add to this the sheer optimistic enthusiasm of the volunteers and it was never in doubt that this exhibition would be something special.

It was really gratifying to notice that the public felt the need to compliment the setting for the exhibition as much as the images that were exhibited. At the opening I got a bit concerned, from all the comments that I heard, that the setting was slightly overshadowing the show, but openings are strange things, and it was good to walk around the exhibition the next day and realise that the show and its environment worked brilliantly.

And so it became time to remove Bogota, Brazil, Germany and all the other places that had become integral parts of Fabrica, it had all fitted so well, I was not sure that I could even imagine what Fabrica’s single massive space looked like anymore.  I felt a bit sad about taking away the spaces that I had come to associate with a particular group of people at a particular time – A really enjoyable 2 months.

I wonder how many other galleries can say that their process is so well integrated across all levels of involvement, that a volunteer invigilator can also have been involved in the design, construction, and removal of the actual work, not as a special experiment in worker relations but as a matter of course? In my experience, many galleries waste this opportunity by simply ‘getting in the builders’ and for a few days everyone stays out of the way.

It took 3 days to dissolve the thing, and just like the build, it was a delightful bonding experience with lots of laughter and one memorable quote that just about sums it up

“Creativity is alright but it’s not as much fun as demolition”.

Many thanks to everyone involved.

See and download the full gallery on posterous

The Sound of Silence

This sculpture has haunted me, and not just for its content.
I have made this sculpture twice now, for the New York based Chilean artist Alfredo Jaar. Once at Fabrica in Brighton, and once at the South London Gallery. Both times it has been slightly different, the version that you see here is the smaller of the two and it was made using pre-cut sheets of anodised aluminium. The earlier Fabrica version was made using zinc plated steel sheet.

Why was it so problematic? The sculpture was never designed, instead the only instructions that the artist gives to any gallery hoping to stage the work is a cartoon like line drawing of its sides. The result of this lack of specification is that each gallery has to invent a structure to support the precise outer shell, the people that undertake that task are usually the same ones who build temporary walls and hang pictures, so of course they go about the task as though it were a small room. Starting with a wooden studwork frame that easily accomodates the inevitable undulations in the gallery floor, all seems well until the ceiling structure is attempted. It is then that the spans involved make the need for rigidity painfully apparent - mistakenly solved by adding more wood. When the metal cladding is added the folly of using a wooden frame that is straining under its own self-weight becomes clear, they no longer fit square. The work takes on a new dimension, one of cladding an essentially undulating wooden frame in a manner that resembles building a boat half of wood half of metal.

A lighter touch is required - next time I will make sure that I am involved from the start - to ensure that the sheet metal is framed, allowed to be as square and dimensionaly stable as it does best. then construct the outer walls by connecting the individual rectilinear frames to make the walls true and uniform. The ceiling can then be stretched with lightweight, blackout cloth and strutted where neccesary (could use polystyrene sheet).

Oh yes I haven't mentioned the hundred flourescent light fittings yet have I.

La Route Blanche: An exhibition at Fabrica by Dominique De Beir.
This time I did not have anything to do with making the work. But I did enjoy taking it down. This was one of the most lyrical and meditative pieces of work that I have been involved with for a long time, especially considering that it is entirely made from pierced cardboard boxes

Walking into the huge cube of white, almost igloo like blocks, through an entranceway made up entirely of slatted wooden crates, you are slowly transported into a dark glimmering world of glittering points of light.