Again, the object, recreated, represented, takes on a different, aesthetic nature, it invites another reading, at a slight remove at least from pure functionality, it becomes more complex & demands a deeper engagement with: but is it art...?
Another 'artistic' (but as yet constant) feature of the walk to the site of the day job is the 'painterly' nature of a couple of the road/street signs passed along the way. Rather incongruous as they might be, in the general location they are (one always wonders generally quite 'why?' of such a choice of names, what exactly might be the connection between artists & a place not necessarily noted for its cultural significance, & then ponders the 'why?s' within: what, for instance, is Titian doing sandwiched between Monet & Degas? OK, Courbet leading to Monet/Degas chronologically follows what has historically come to be regarded as the beginnings of a modernist course, but where does Titian fit in to such company..?), still they feed the soul a little before one is forced by the demands of duty to have to, for the most part, rein in one's inclinations & passions & desires (& how one wishes to keep artists, painters, close, as allies) ...
Interesting to note, too, that, consulting a map in order to ascertain the artists' geographical location in relation to each other (see the colour-coded highlights), two further names - those of Goya & Millais, not advertised from the main road as are the others illustrated - occur to intensify the artistic integrity of the housing estate as it sprawls downhill...
What could it all be about, other than sheer randomness? And how many, one wonders, of the residents are aware of the auspicious names in the midst of which they have made their homes?
Once at work, one's thoughts & desires are inevitably diverted towards those precious moments of one's own when cultural matter might be consumed. Collected together in readiness for an essential break, with hopes of enjoying some fresh air too, it became apparent that this particular still life composition as arranged had created a coincidental dialogue within itself, between the pair of sunglasses placed upon the book & those depicted, represented, on the cover of the latter object...
The keen-eyed viewer might notice too the visual coincidence between the upside-down placed sunglasses & the roadsign in the photograph at the beginning of this post: it's not just thrown together this thing, you know...
Another coincidence occurred with the book - but in this instance its contents, its subject matter - in the form of the business card being used as the bookmark to locate my place within the course of its reading (the process of which is being done slowly, with much interest), which, as one might see, advertises the existence of a certain 'Reborn Records', dealers in previously-owned vinyl whose stall was encountered & browsed - with many a sharp pang of recognition & recollection, & not a little regret at objects once personally-owned but no longer so, having been relinquished due to nothing other than issues of storage space - at a recent vintage fair in Chester.
Having grown up collecting vinyl - that & tape cassette being the available forms in which recorded music was issued back in the day, of course - I still seem to regard it as being the medium through which to experience music most effectively, the very objecthood of record & artwork being a part of the immersive whole, as previously written of here on TOoT.
At this point, thanks must be offered to A for kindly feeding my nostalgic inclinations & purchasing (for the fabulous price of £2 each) a couple of the LPs from the selection of 'Reborn' records through which I leafed, which once formed part of the personal collection of such (& collections, of particular artistes, within the collection, of course) before it was dispersed & disposed-of. Here they are, pictured below, Everything But The Girl's debut album 'Eden' & Elvis Costello & the Attractions' mighty 'Blood & Chocolate' (& one might notice that each of the albums' cover artwork consist of paintings, respectively a watercolour & an oil)...
Ah, the memories attached to such artefacts: one recalls that both of these albums were bought in such vinyl form in 1986 (although the EBTG album was released in 1984), during the autumn of which year I was fortunate to experience both acts live in concert at Liverpool's Royal Court Theatre (Elvis & the Attractions on two consecutive nights of different set lists, indeed).
Now, all that is required is a record player, of course, in order to hear once again these albums as nature (or at least their contemporaneous technologies) intended, &, for that matter, those other few examples of vinyl that survived the extensive cull, those that simply could not be parted with for whatever reason of significance (mostly to do with original artwork, but other reasons too) & thus remain in one's possession.
In the interests of home-making, some form of turntable is actually on the 'desired necessities' list (&, if the vinyl collection continues to (re)grow, become yet more essential) either something of a contemporary nature or, most desirously, a period piece record player such as this delightful object (admire if you will its perfect form, & that colour), an original Ferguson dating from the 1960s, for which, recently, we were tragically outbid (with but three seconds to spare) on the now-fallen-right-out-of-favour ebay, a cruel place indeed...
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