Vital to everything that we do at Artlacuna is the contextualisation and evaluation of it's critical output. To this end Really Serious Research collates exhibition texts, publications and guest editorials – making this content publicly available.

publications:

An occasional publication accompanies ArtLacuna's critical programme. You can view/download and purchase our back catalogue here.

Fake Sun 2.0


Fake Sun 2.0 takes point of departure in the novel ‘The Life and Adventure of Alexander Selkirk, the Real Robinson Crusoe, A Narrative founded on Facts’ written in 1837 by John Howell.

Alexander Selkirk born in 1676, the seventh son of a cobbler, grew up in Lower Largo, Fife. At the age of 19, Selkirk fled to sea after finding himself in trouble with the Kirk Session after his brother’s trick of making him drink seawater, which resulted in a nasty family fight.
Selkirk hoped to make a fortune at sea through privateering (legalised piracy on the King’s enemies) against Spanish vessels off the coast of South America.

After a few years he had proved himself an excellent navigator, which led to his appointment as Sailing Master on the 90 tons privateer ‘The Cinque Ports’.
However, the expedition was a disaster and the hot headed Selkirk and the tyrant captain fell out when Selkirk insisted to be put ashore on the next possible island as he was convinced, the ship would sink.

In 1704 Selkirk was indeed put ashore and thereby marooned on ‘Isla Juan Fernandez’ now known as ‘Isla Alejandro Selkirk’.

Selkirk lived for four years and four months on the island. He had with him a little clothing, bedding, a gun, some tools, a bible and tobacco.

The first many months of his stay on the island, Selkirk simply read his bible, awaiting rescue, but it soon became clear that the rescue was not imminent. He resigned himself to a long stay and made the island his home. He taught himself to hunt goats for food and clothing and he domesticated cats and sought amusement by teaching them how to dance.
Selkirk was finally rescued in 1709 by ‘Duke’a privateering ship piloted by William Dampier, and its sailing companion the ‘Duchess’.

Selkirk later learns that the ‘The Cinque Ports’ did indeed sink off the coast of Peru with all the crew drowned except the tyrant captain and 17 other men who had survived only to be captured and left to rot in a Peruvian jail.




FAKE SUN 2.0


Fake Sun 2.0 takes point of departure in the novel ‘The Life and Adventure of Alexander Selkirk, the Real Robinson Crusoe, A Narrative founded on Facts’ written in 1837 by John Howell.

Alexander Selkirk born in 1676, the seventh son of a cobbler, grew up in Lower Largo, Fife. At the age of 19, Selkirk fled to sea after finding himself in trouble with the Kirk Session after his brother’s trick of making him drink seawater, which resulted in a nasty family fight.
Selkirk hoped to make a fortune at sea through privateering (legalised piracy on the King’s enemies) against Spanish vessels off the coast of South America.

After a few years he had proved himself an excellent navigator, which led to his appointment as Sailing Master on the 90 tons privateer ‘The Cinque Ports’.
However, the expedition was a disaster and the hot headed Selkirk and the tyrant captain fell out when Selkirk insisted to be put ashore on the next possible island as he was convinced, the ship would sink.

In 1704 Selkirk was indeed put ashore and thereby marooned on ‘Isla Juan Fernandez’ now known as ‘Isla Alejandro Selkirk’.

Selkirk lived for four years and four months on the island. He had with him a little clothing, bedding, a gun, some tools, a bible and tobacco.

The first many months of his stay on the island, Selkirk simply read his bible, awaiting rescue, but it soon became clear that the rescue was not imminent. He resigned himself to a long stay and made the island his home. He taught himself to hunt goats for food and clothing and he domesticated cats and sought amusement by teaching them how to dance.
Selkirk was finally rescued in 1709 by ‘Duke’a privateering ship piloted by William Dampier, and its sailing companion the ‘Duchess’.

Selkirk later learns that the ‘The Cinque Ports’ did indeed sink off the coast of Peru with all the crew drowned except the tyrant captain and 17 other men who had survived only to be captured and left to rot in a Peruvian jail.




Department of Repair: Part 1


Curated by Bridget Harvey, Michael Hurley, Karen Richmond and Maiko Tsutsumi.

The Department of Repair explored (re)making through fixing, repairing and mending. The project reframed the theme of ‘repair’, exploring its identities and its potential as an environmentally/socially engaged practice; aiming to create space for broader interpretations of repairing, fixing and/or mending practice, exploring categories such as repair narratives, agents, materials, and methods/systems.

The project began with an exhibition which showcased approaches to mending, guides and tools of repair. For the first three weeks, visiting (re)makers, (re)designers and repairers, who demonstrate and teach repair and re-making skills ran drop-in workshops. Outcomes from the workshops were then added to the existing set of exhibits to form a larger exhibition. A two-part publication was produced to complement the project, with writings by and about the repairers and exhibits involved in the project.

With a fully zero waste aim for the project and accompanying publication, The Department of Repair engaged with the act/notion of repair more through reuse of materials, as a form of recycling with less environmental impact. All furniture for the exhibition was made from reclaimed materials and distributed for further use, or dismantled back into materials after the exhibition. The publication, which documents the entire process of the project was hand printed onto reclaimed paper, and only produced on demand in small batches to avoid large waste quantities at the end of the project.




Department of Repair: Part 1


Curated by Bridget Harvey, Michael Hurley, Karen Richmond and Maiko Tsutsumi.

The Department of Repair explored (re)making through fixing, repairing and mending. The project reframed the theme of ‘repair’, exploring its identities and its potential as an environmentally/socially engaged practice; aiming to create space for broader interpretations of repairing, fixing and/or mending practice, exploring categories such as repair narratives, agents, materials, and methods/systems.

The project began with an exhibition which showcased approaches to mending, guides and tools of repair. For the first three weeks, visiting (re)makers, (re)designers and repairers, who demonstrate and teach repair and re-making skills ran drop-in workshops. Outcomes from the workshops were then added to the existing set of exhibits to form a larger exhibition. A two-part publication was produced to complement the project, with writings by and about the repairers and exhibits involved in the project.

With a fully zero waste aim for the project and accompanying publication, The Department of Repair engaged with the act/notion of repair more through reuse of materials, as a form of recycling with less environmental impact. All furniture for the exhibition was made from reclaimed materials and distributed for further use, or dismantled back into materials after the exhibition. The publication, which documents the entire process of the project was hand printed onto reclaimed paper, and only produced on demand in small batches to avoid large waste quantities at the end of the project.




Bodies That Matter 3


In September 2013, a group of artists performed an install at Space Station Sixty-Five. The intention was to take Judith Butler's assertion that '...gender is not something that one is, it is something that one does' (1990:62) and apply it to our practices rather than our gender. Could we ask whether artistic production is not inherently subjective, but an oft-repeated performance, bound and limited by language and convention.

Honestly?

These questions were not answered, in fact, they were barely addressed. Maybe because of the reference to the body in the title, what emerged was something altogether more base. The work and the conversation was visceral, it was not the detached, theoretical, (dry?), response we had feared.

The same thing happened at the ensuing exhibition 8 months later at ArtLacuna. Artists were asked to respond to the themes that had surfaced at the install, those being the constraints of language, consumption, (both bodily and economic), and performativity. Yes, these themes were addressed, but what was striking was the secretive, hidden nature of much of the work, compounded by the curation which made viewing the work a physically awkward, sometimes uncomfortable experience.

The visitor/viewer became the voyeur.

And so we had the starting point for this publication...




Bodies That Matter 3


ArtLacuna is situated in an deserted, council owned office. Upon entering for the first time, it was apparent that this was the perfect space. Size, cost, location, all boxes ticked.

And yet.

And yet, there was another element. A familiarity, a strangeness, a sense that I was intruding.The office paraphernalia remained. The desks, chairs, filing cabinets, all the things you might expect to find abandoned in an office that had been relocated and had no need of outdated furniture, but with a singular detail: everything remained. One day, the workers had simply left the building.

File upon file, papers, memos, notes, books, rubber stamps, all littered with the most anomalous of references in the most mundane of settings: ‘how homicide assessment teams are seizing the hour’, ‘drawing evidence from ballistics’, ‘inquests to file’, ‘for the witness’, ‘for the family’, ‘related physiology’, ‘vascular grafts and mammary prothesis’.

Who the hell were these people?
To my delight, we were taking over The Coroner’s Office.

ArtLacuna was launched in February 2013 with a presentations by three speakers, Sharon Kivland, Alasdair Duncan and Holly Stevenson. The remit was simple; show up to 20 slides with a maximum speaking time of twenty seconds for each, much like a Pecha Kucha, but less prescriptive. All three are artists and writers and all three refer to psychoanalysis in their work.




Sex, death & cocktails:
desire and the death drive


ArtLacuna is situated in an deserted, council owned office. Upon entering for the first time, it was apparent that this was the perfect space. Size, cost, location, all boxes ticked.

And yet.

And yet, there was another element. A familiarity, a strangeness, a sense that I was intruding.The office paraphernalia remained. The desks, chairs, filing cabinets, all the things you might expect to find abandoned in an office that had been relocated and had no need of outdated furniture, but with a singular detail: everything remained. One day, the workers had simply left the building.

File upon file, papers, memos, notes, books, rubber stamps, all littered with the most anomalous of references in the most mundane of settings: ‘how homicide assessment teams are seizing the hour’, ‘drawing evidence from ballistics’, ‘inquests to file’, ‘for the witness’, ‘for the family’, ‘related physiology’, ‘vascular grafts and mammary prothesis’.

Who the hell were these people?
To my delight, we were taking over The Coroner’s Office.

ArtLacuna was launched in February 2013 with a presentations by three speakers, Sharon Kivland, Alasdair Duncan and Holly Stevenson. The remit was simple; show up to 20 slides with a maximum speaking time of twenty seconds for each, much like a Pecha Kucha, but less prescriptive. All three are artists and writers and all three refer to psychoanalysis in their work...












Sex, death & cocktails:
desire and the death drive


ArtLacuna is situated in an deserted, council owned office. Upon entering for the first time, it was apparent that this was the perfect space. Size, cost, location, all boxes ticked.

And yet.

And yet, there was another element. A familiarity, a strangeness, a sense that I was intruding.The office paraphernalia remained. The desks, chairs, filing cabinets, all the things you might expect to find abandoned in an office that had been relocated and had no need of outdated furniture, but with a singular detail: everything remained. One day, the workers had simply left the building.

File upon file, papers, memos, notes, books, rubber stamps, all littered with the most anomalous of references in the most mundane of settings: ‘how homicide assessment teams are seizing the hour’, ‘drawing evidence from ballistics’, ‘inquests to file’, ‘for the witness’, ‘for the family’, ‘related physiology’, ‘vascular grafts and mammary prothesis’.

Who the hell were these people?
To my delight, we were taking over The Coroner’s Office.

ArtLacuna was launched in February 2013 with a presentations by three speakers, Sharon Kivland, Alasdair Duncan and Holly Stevenson. The remit was simple; show up to 20 slides with a maximum speaking time of twenty seconds for each, much like a Pecha Kucha, but less prescriptive. All three are artists and writers and all three refer to psychoanalysis in their work...