1. aUDIOMAPS.




Process  Akai Desktop Samplers | Eight Track Porta-studio | Record Decks and Knackered Records | A Music Box | A Megaphone | Voice | Bass 


Field recordings and collaged soundscapes that are filtered, re-sampled, looped, re-configured and re-constructed. Audiomaps is often collaborative in the recording, remixing and performative stage. Texts are ‘cut ups’, overheard conversations, ‘found' statements, declarations. Part manifesto at times.

Loops. Samples. Sequences. A whisper. A sense of place.

The very recent work is a direct response to the strange ambience that lockdown brought; March, April 2020. I had to find ways to keep working that were within the strict 'rules'. So, walking and cycling I always had a recording device on me to collect field recordings…

I had set up a 'lo-fi' studio at home so in April 2020, I 'composed' these pieces via very clunky desktop samplers (embracing the limitations of sample length imposed by this fairly archaic technology), an eight-track digital recorder, a mono synth and a box full of toy instruments...

So, the initial 'feeling' was one of ambience, separation.

The more recent pieces from lockdown January 2021 have an altogether more oppressive feel. Almost malevolent, I think. Very dark, highly contrasted imagery and quite visceral samples and sequences in terms of the audio.

“People tend to play in their comfort zone, so the best things are achieved in a state of surprise, actually.” — From Brian Eno


“People ask me, 'Don't you ever run out of ideas?' Well, in the first place, I don't use ideas. Every time I have an idea, it's too limiting and usually turns out to be a disappointment. But I haven't run out of curiosity.” — From Robert Rauschenberg


FOUR TESTS FOR TESTING TIMES.
aUDIOMAPS. (RE-imagined).








Mark

2. BAD CHOREOGRAPHY



Process Falling over | Lying face down | ‘Balancing acts’


You get to that point sometimes where you need to take things back to basics. Being able to work quickly. Spontaneously. These photographs are playful. How much ‘awkward and clumsy’ can I choreograph? Falling over, lying face down, ‘balancing acts’ (sic). No tricks here. No athleticism. The humour is dry. Pathos wriggles just under the skin.

I’m conscious but my thoughts are blurred. Somewhere else.
Occupied. Swamped. At breaking point.
Sleep is the dead weight of concrete boots that take half the day to shake off.
Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!
Walking with a rhythm slowed and slurred by middle age
A creaking and clicking downsizing human frame.
I try to keep up…
I heard the news today, oh boy.
Why. When. How. Did we get here?

“ I started playing around, and thought it would be quite interesting to get on them. I was thinking about how the plinths affected me; I tried to let the plinths determine where I put my foot or my arm. It became a pose work, an action that I did throughout the day. Somebody photographed me and I liked how that looked. People always think it’s lampooning Henry Moore, but I actually did that with a piece called Fallen Warrior, where I’m lying on the beach .” — From
Bruce McClean. Pose Work for Plinths 3.


“I think humour is used a lot of the time to keep people from getting too close. Humour side-steps and shifts the meaning.” — From Bruce Nauman.


If I’m honest, I’m having fun with this. And why shouldn’t I?





Mark

3. CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?



Process Joy | Fear | Desire | Guilt | Sadness | Disgust | Delight | Anger


CYHMN? A collaborative installation by Stephen Carley and Anna Mawby working with curator Andrea Hadley-Johnson.

A mixed-media, anthropological framework.
Experimental and participatory.
Joy, Fear, Desire, Guilt, Sadness, Disgust, Delight and Anger.

Two exciting years of intricate planning, development and collaboration. A period of studio time that felt like a creative research project.

“For far too many people the art gallery door remains a block they never get past. But we know that the great efforts going on between galleries like Derby and local schools are doing a lot to break down this barrier, such that a new generation will escape the sound bite, narrowness of much of the popular media. In this case, CYHMN, bridges that gap. Between them, the artists and the curator have carried out a snapshot census of feelings at a moment in time.” — Keith Hayman. Review 2012.


“There are points of recognition to be found as one moves along, however most of the work is open ended, so we are left hovering between material, text and signifiers. Disembodied statements, like snippets from a diary, are drawn, carved or sewn onto everyday objects, reflecting our urge to project onto things, or give things material form. The pairing together of text and object has implications, a mattress, a record player or cracked mirror can be read in a variety of ways. Thoughts, feelings and ideas are displayed, bottled, or left as traces in salt. The pleasure is gained from translating these messages.” — Lesley Guy. Review 2012.


CYHMN? was installed and exhibited at Derby Museum and Art Gallery between March and June 2012.


Exhibition Review








Mark

4. CONSTRUCT DECONSTRUCT
    RECONSTRUCT



TANDEM VIDEO DRAWING ONE.
Sticks and wire.
Remixed 2021.



DRAWING BOOK ONE.
Book made 2017.
Video recorded 2021.


SCULPTURE AS DRAWING.
Paper, string, adhesive tape, detritus.
Variable dimensions.
Date unknown.


Process Line, Shape, Mark, Sequence. Collage, Layered. Action/Gesture. Press, Gravity, Weight. Drawing. De-collage.


Drawing is absolutely integral to my studio practise. The process informs and underpins all my work. For me, drawing is not about representation, it’s more a gathering and ordering of a collection of memories. Half seen, overlooked fragments, fleeting moments. It’s where marks, surfaces, shapes, lines and textures coalesce. Entirely process orientated and risky, it becomes a dialogue with the materials.

These drawings are a consequence of walking through and out of the city, cycling up steep hills and past old factories. Periphery vision through the window of a speeding train. Late night motorway car journeys. Things at my feet, the sky above.

“Drawing is the primal means of communication, which predates and embraces writing and functions as a tool of conceptualisation parallel with language.” — From Deanna Petherbridge, The Primacy of drawing.


The directness and immediacy of drawing is where I am at my most playful. Mark-making, cutting, ripping, punching holes, slicing, embossing. Often the images challenge the notion of what a drawing is or can be…

“A discourse between definition and the unresolved, the systematic and chaotic, certainty and speculation.— From The Good Drawing, CCW Bright 7




DRAWING TESTS SET ONE.
Nine possibilities.
Drawing, acrylic paint, ink and detritus collage on paper.
Each panel – 10cm X 10cm.
2020.

CONSTRUCT DECONSTRUCT RECONSTRUCT 1.
Drawing, acrylic paint, ink and detritus collage on paper.
200 X 200cm.
2018.

DRAWING TESTS SET TWO.
Nine possibilities.
Drawing, acrylic paint, ink and detritus collage on paper.
Each panel – 10cm X 10cm.
2020.

BLACK DETRITUS DRAWING.
Found objects / detritus. String, wire, cardboard, gloss paint, MDF.
200 X 200cm.
2017.

DRAWING TESTS SET THREE.
Nine possibilities.
Drawing, acrylic paint, ink, monoprint and detritus collage on paper.
Each panel – 10cm X 10cm.
2021.

CONSTRUCT DECONSTRUCT RECONSTRUCT 11.
Drawing, acrylic paint, ink, photograms and detritus collage on paper.
200 X 200cm.
2019.



TANDEM VIDEO DRAWING 2.
Paper.
Remixed 2021.



CONSTRUCT DECONSTRUCT RECONSTRUCT 2.
Drawing, acrylic paint, ink and detritus collage on paper.
130 X 110cm.
2018.

CONSTRUCT DECONSTRUCT RECONSTRUCT 3.
Drawing, acrylic paint, ink and detritus collage on paper.
130 X 110cm.
2018.

CONSTRUCT DECONSTRUCT RECONSTRUCT 4.
Drawing, acrylic paint, ink and detritus collage on paper.
130 X 110cm.
2017.

CONSTRUCT DECONSTRUCT RECONSTRUCT 5.
Drawing, acrylic paint, ink and detritus collage on paper.
260 X 220cm.
2017.

CONSTRUCT DECONSTRUCT RECONSTRUCT 6.
Drawing, acrylic paint, ink and detritus collage on paper.
130 X 110cm.
2017.

CONSTRUCT DECONSTRUCT RECONSTRUCT 7.
Drawing, acrylic paint, ink and detritus collage on paper.
130 X 110cm.
2017.

CONSTRUCT DECONSTRUCT RECONSTRUCT 8.
Drawing, acrylic paint, ink and detritus collage on paper.
130 X 110cm.
2017.

CONSTRUCT DECONSTRUCT RECONSTRUCT 9.
Drawing, acrylic paint, ink and detritus collage on paper.
130 X 110cm.
2016.

CONSTRUCT DECONSTRUCT RECONSTRUCT 10.
Drawing, acrylic paint, ink and detritus collage on paper.
130 X 110cm.
2016.

CONSTRUCT DECONSTRUCT RECONSTRUCT 12.
Drawing, acrylic paint, ink and detritus collage on paper.
50 X 50cm.
2019.



DRAWING BOOK TWO.
Book made 2017.
Video recorded 2021.


Mark

5. FINDING LINES




Large drawing for Audio.


Process Here in this Space | X Marks the Spot           


fig one.

HERE IN THIS SPACE. X MARKS THE SPOT
THE CENTRE. THE PLACE
TO START AND END.

fig two.

REFLECT REWIND. PAUSE REPEAT.
REFLECT REWIND. PAUSE REPEAT.
REFLECT REWIND. PAUSE REPEAT.
REFLECT REWIND. PAUSE REPEAT.

fig three.

ABSTRACT MEMORY. REMNANT A TO B
STONE MUD CLAY SOIL
THE LAY OF THE LAND
THE LAY OF THE LAND
THE LAY OF THE LAND
THE LAY OF THE LAND

fig four.

DELINEATE . THIS LINE
AN OUTLINE. LINES THAT CONNECT US TOGETHER.


Finding Lines – a celebration of marks made and lines drawn.

15 July – 3 September 2017 Museum & Art Gallery

This exhibition featured a fascinating variety of drawings, from Henry Moore to David Shrigley, Maggi Hambling and Frank Auerbach alongside specific commissioned pieces by Stephen Carley, Tim Shore, Susan Kester, Liz Atkin, Steve Chapman and Nick Parker in the gallery and adjacent spaces.

This co-produced exhibition of drawings began with a sequence of creative acts by hundreds of participants, and builds on the notion of drawing as a tool to improve well-being. ‘Finding Lines’ moved from an invitation to notice and capture the lines around us into a provocation to ‘find your lines and make your mark’, to reclaim the joy of drawing.

“A drawing is simply a line going for a walk.” — From Paul Klee.


“Even at this late date, I go into my studio, and I think 'Is this going to be it? Is it the end?' You see, nearly everything terrorizes me. When an artist loses that terror, he's through.” — From Robert Rauschenberg



Virtual Tour


Mark