‘Still’, Troubled Waters, Kuandu Museum of Fine Arts, Taipei National University of the Arts, Taiwan. (2013)
I had put in a proposal for inclusion in an exhibition entitled Troubled Waters at the Kuandu Museum of Fine Arts, Taipei National University of the Arts, Taipei, Taiwan. The key aspect of the exhibition was a preoccupation with water, not only the troubled waters of the Mediterranean but water as a contested elemental commodity; a crucial means of energy, of travel and trade that sustains our existence as a vital element. I had visited the venue for the exhibition at the Kuandu Museum of Fine Arts and was excited about the scale of the space and decided to make site-specific drawing of a Thames Sailing Barge.
The installation was entitled ‘Still’. Still, in the sense of longing and desire for stillness and still as in a static photographic image – frozen in time. I intended to make my large scale drawing from a ship plan of another Thames Sailing Barge TSB Nautilus, using chalk I had collected from the remains of a camp shed located on the River Thames riverbed adjacent to my own ship, as a tool to draw with.
Working performatively, in-situ in the gallery, with the help of students from the Fine Art Department I projected a seven-metre ship outline of the Thames Sailing Barge TSB Nautilus onto the pre-prepared black wall (blackboard) of the gallery and carefully traced the lines in chalk creating a powdery residue. When the drawing was complete the projector was turned off leaving an absence of light and the poignant presence of an additive fragile chalk drawing; a temporary drawn outline trace on the gallery wall.
Adjacent to the chalk drawing of the Nautilus I suspended a plumb bob from the roof of the gallery (stilled) onto a nautical chart of the River Thames at 51.5056° N and O.O756° W pinpointing the location on the River Thames where my own ship is moored.
Installation shot for ‘Still’. Photograph: Chris Wainwright
“A key aspect of the exhibition ‘Troubled Waters’ is a preoccupation with water, its relationship to the land, and in particular how it has become a focus for global concerns about the environment. There is little doubt that the increasingly dramatic effects of climate change, in the last three decades, can be seen in the rapidly changing nature of water evidenced through the melting ice caps, the rising and warming of the sea, high levels of pollution and contamination through our irresponsible attitudes to managing industrial waste. The natural world is showing signs of extreme distress as a direct consequence of our actions, with increase of severe storms and at the other end of the weather spectrum, sustained periods of drought and the lack of water as the world’s climatic order changes. Water is therefore often a contested elemental commodity in that it defines and divides territories and is often the specific site and focus of human conflict, throughout history as well as in the present. Water provides a crucial means of energy, of travel and trade, a source of food from our seas and rivers and sustains our existence as a vital element in our human biological and chemical makeup. It continues to be the most valuable and increasingly unstable resource on earth.
The term ‘Troubled Waters’ also indicates in the context of this exhibition, a more metaphorical view of conflict and of contradiction. Aspects of heritage, history, representation, cultural discourse and our relationship to means of production are explored in the work of the five artists and their accompanying texts.”
The stillness in the space was palpable, reminding of a sign I had seen outside a Quaker church when I was in dry dock declaring:
STILLNESS CAN BE MOVING
As an important component of the installation I had also longed for an element of silence, unfortunately the two artists works on either side had sound. However, despite the sound emanating from either side it was possible to momentarily experience the intended sense of stillness and silence of this maritime tableau.
At the end of the exhibition Troubled Waters my static chalk drawing was erased, painted over, in a state of flux, a palimpsest of chalk and paint. I wondered if it had left an absent presence in the wake of its transient passing.
Differing from the capturing of stillness in my chalk drawing in the series The Roaring Forties, Tacita Dean depicts a maritime narrative that relates her chalk drawings to the movement of the sea. Dean says that she draws with chalk on a blackboard arising from her need for a functional surface on which she could write notes for people and make small erasable sketches. Dean made many of her subsequent blackboard drawings performatively, also in-situ in the gallery space as I had also done with my installation ‘Still’.
The following is a short extract from a conversation between Tacita Dean and Marina Warner:
Roaring Forties: Seven Boards in Seven Days (Detail) Tacita Dean: (1997). Materials: Chalk on blackboard, 7 works.
“Warner: Your drawing is very remarkable for somebody who has not drawn all the time. Those blackboard drawings of the sea, for example, are stunning[…]
Dean: The thing about the blackboard drawings is that I can’t actually do them about anything else now. I’ve tried, but they are so tied in with their subject matter, the sea. The flux, the drawing and the redrawing, the erasure and the rubbing out belong to the sea, and nothing else has that same flux. I need that for working with the chalk. The drawings can’t be fixed because that would take the chalk off. They are a kind of performance. They are always made in situ, more or less, and I always run out of time…I don’t mind that they are not fixed[… ]I don’t mind that they are not fixed. Of course, others do.
Warner: That is rather wonderful. It restores the blackboard drawings back to time, gives them back to the flux… ”
Dean links the redrawing, the erasure and the rubbing out of her drawings to the flux of the sea. She draws our attention to that fact that her drawings can’t be fixed and how this fragile temporality restores the drawings back to what both Dean and Warner describe as the flux.
I too felt in a state of flux, of being carried by the flow of the tides; an in-between space where nothing is ever fixed now offered a space of transformation and change. I felt I had become too introspective and it became imperative to look outside myself, and the space of the ship as an act of agency - waiting and longing for the moment when there was no more waiting. What was I waiting for? Was I waiting for the tide to turn perhaps?