The one with the soft shoulders and the ridges at varying angles
I keep moving back, relaxed coat, neoprene. A’s everyday
glasses are faux horn rimmed, she says when she works
in the cinema older unexpected people always say how much
they like them. They are big for her face and I remember
when I was at secondary school friends wore the exact same style.
you said wear white more often, recently I have been, mostly
tailored white shirts, in silk or cotton lawn with small collars and tight cuffs,
I button up the top button, it pulls me together although I know you don’t
like it. Neon yellow underwear seen through the thin cloth has a
quiet pique, and then I remember I’m not sure where I left it,
although I do remember how I wore it.
When I was in C I bought some stuff in Pilsen, it took
me an hour and a half to walk there, I got totally lost. I
found a 70’s quilted jacket with a hand-blocked
geometric design it’s kind of Elizabethan with curved
pinched shoulders. I wore it to meet C and she
immediately said hey that jacket looks like one of C’s
paintings. I had wondered whether C would notice the
jacket. I have these African bracelets too, black
banding over pastel colours, sympathetic, gradated
sections like some of the striated surfaces in C’s
paintings, the morning before I met C I thought about
wearing them and the jacket but later on when I was
sat outside waiting to meet C I took the bangles off.
Outside exterior voice
Although recognisably a female form the body is absent. Arms and shoulders taper into a trunk, hips meet thigh, ass distended and
then silhouette. Looking back at ourselves, the absent body present in the headless painting, we are familiar from the inside out and the
outside in. Felt and observed. Breaking down with equivocation and then breaking up again. Change and mutability our new strengths.
Quietly suggested, confidently re-drawn.
Louder Outside exterior voice
This black outline an assertion forming a single shape, a monolith of parts. Unexpectedly unruly, obliquely feminine. Our red blouse
agape tucks into a flattened belt, patterned stockings a geometric fishnet unravelling from the seams. Violence an action with an equal
opposite reaction. Welts on skin, the painting’s support, a cold light grey with pallid yellow tinge.
From the artery of the stocking’s laddered strands the surrounding tissue colours red and half a waistcoat, dirty khaki, over sewn with
an indigo Thai silk shadows a pleated drape which continues to escapes from the collar and cuff. Lengths of broken furniture
horizontally accumulate becoming ribs then pelvis, collarbone and shoulder, both fractured arm and flattering appendage, perpendicular
to the side of the frame.
Sophie , Monday 20th June 2016
I told you about the specific article on Dominic Straus-Kahn I was looking for. The writer wrote something like ‘Was it that Nafissatou
Diallo, the maid cleaning the hotel room, just could not resist the sweaty, white, pot-bellied body of Straus-Kahn. ‘Could she just not
help herself when she saw the managing director of IMF’s irresistible overweight, pallid flesh?’
Outside exterior voice insistent
Small light from the dull grey background, gaps beyond the reforming body picture negative space and inside the torso a room hung
with a painting or possibly a mirror remains uninhabited, attendant. In miniature a complete red blouse hangs in reverse, upended
forming a vagina. Psychology and physicality inextricable but not reduced. A stalwart and a matrix, a tissue forming substance, a soil or
rock containing something like the main part of an alloy, an arrangement of mathematical elements, a network of circuit parts, a
surrounding mass of material, a will, an action, a determinate volition. A strength, an empathy, something so big, so particular, shared
and recognised. A hidden language blatantly apparent, care, thought, consideration and attention, a set of complex thoughts and
physical reactions momentarily held together then
The M.D. Uniform by Marguerite Duras
Madeleine Renaud is dressed by Yves Saint-Laurent: he makes her some dresses, someone puts them on her, and lo and behold she
goes about in them. You wonder if she knows that the dress she's wearing is new. These days Madeleine doesn't know so much as she
used to. But we’re very fond of one another, and I think she still knows that. I often think she and I are the only two women who don’t
care about the clothes they wear.
Outside exterior voice fatigued
Salmon pink gives way to a burnt orange, wood grain sliced vertically then horizontally reveals stained teak, burnished ebony, cherry
and walnut, the broad plane of a table, the back of a chair, a physical form
composed of the domestic.
Assume the chair back, the table, the mirror, the clothing and the empty room, unconsciously subverted, these constituent parts: soft
furnishing, pattern template, collar, inside sleeve, laddered stocking, urbanite in shoulder padded suit and as a double-bind unchained,
unhinged ultimately uncoupled.
In disorder, tattered force, something new. Personal Problems
WE ARE VERY PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE THAT TANYA LEIGHTON GALLERY NOW REPRESENTS MARIANNE WEX
Nadia..........I say as Christina said
1. different size forms
2. take apart a faded cotton garment so opened fabric shows seam lines and insides of seams where fabric hasn’t faded and remake
this into something else
3. take three gathered cotton shirts, cut them horizontally and reassemble them
4. sew twigs on
5. make carrier (fabric) to hold small items on
6. a sleeve with wide top and impossibly small wrist
7. cut a sleeve off at the elbow, sew on a different sleeve, splice
8. a cotton gathered skirt with a lining that is longer than the skirt, so it hangs and shows
9. braided fabric strips made into a stiff jacket
10. a skirt made from several skirts some pleated some gathered etc.
11. natural wood sketches to give garment shape
12. foam lining
13. bulky objects between garment a lining to feel
14. doll clothes, baby clothes for various parts
15. is this what Margaret Wharton does with chairs?
16. crocheted stripes made into a garment
17. painted fabric
excerpt from Text
Sophie Macpherson and Nadia Hebson May/June/July 2016