Showing posts with label Robin hungerford. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robin hungerford. Show all posts
3.11.11
Things like that.
Things like that.
Gladys Harmer nodded silently. Jack was a careful man: a bit finicky even, over some things. He always pulled out all the electric plugs at night; he turned the water off when they went on holiday; he climbed a ladder the correct way, hand over hand gripping the rungs, not the sides in case a foot slipped; things like that; things her own more carefree family had never worried about. Uncle Charlie had always found Jack's ways amusing, but then Uncle Charlie usually found something comical in everything. All the same, she could see the sense in Jack's caution where rats were concerned.
26.10.11
On unintended consequences: 'I believe you have something to tell me'
On unintended consequences.
'I believe you have something to tell me' is an ongoing inconclusive 'work' created collaboratively in situ, that has no imperative to progress. Any notional 'advance' toward resolution (littered with the presupposition of 'outcome') has been disallowed. The intent is to frustrate conclusiveness in deliberately taking wrong or inadvisable turns, to make an art out of 'shooting oneself in the foot' (in avoiding any actual targets). This liberty: the freedom to misdirect and aim badly risks the ricochet, and the ricochet is always telling.
recipe
1 bag Calcium Hydroxide
1 book 'Modernism' with 48 colour plates extracted
1 cos lettuce, preferably limp
3 bolts of cloth (white, grey, wine red)
96 butter tubs and lids, degreased
7 large sheets square pattern making card
1 Cyclopaedia of New South Wales 1909, shredded and clipped (for gentlemen)
1 nominal 'rat'
1 white board
2 polythene sheets
3 tennis balls
1 random text (headmaster & boy)
1 small wooden construct (rodent dwelling)
Several sheets of A3 photocopy paper
Assorted marker pens, pins, tape, brushes, thread, stickers, gadgets.
Add water and simmer on a low heat
'I believe you have something to tell me' is an ongoing inconclusive 'work' created collaboratively in situ, that has no imperative to progress. Any notional 'advance' toward resolution (littered with the presupposition of 'outcome') has been disallowed. The intent is to frustrate conclusiveness in deliberately taking wrong or inadvisable turns, to make an art out of 'shooting oneself in the foot' (in avoiding any actual targets). This liberty: the freedom to misdirect and aim badly risks the ricochet, and the ricochet is always telling.
recipe
1 bag Calcium Hydroxide
1 book 'Modernism' with 48 colour plates extracted
1 cos lettuce, preferably limp
3 bolts of cloth (white, grey, wine red)
96 butter tubs and lids, degreased
7 large sheets square pattern making card
1 Cyclopaedia of New South Wales 1909, shredded and clipped (for gentlemen)
1 nominal 'rat'
1 white board
2 polythene sheets
3 tennis balls
1 random text (headmaster & boy)
1 small wooden construct (rodent dwelling)
Several sheets of A3 photocopy paper
Assorted marker pens, pins, tape, brushes, thread, stickers, gadgets.
Add water and simmer on a low heat
24.10.11
24 Oct - 6 Nov: Ben Denham, Terry Hayes and Robin Hungerford: I believe you have something to tell me
The interview began by the headmaster playing an old, useful trick that he used
nine times out of ten on such occasions. He began by saying nothing at first, he
held his eyes down, while his nose wrinkled beneath his slipping glasses as if
what he was reading on the desk before him was something unfit for decent
people to see. It gave the boy time to realise where he was, to be overcome by the
awkwardness of being there, and today, for him to take in the carefully arranged
evidence which sat like stage‐props in the room. The headmaster usually held
that position for a while, judging the moment to begin speaking. After nearly
twenty seconds he looked up from the desk and removed his reading glasses; he
stared piercingly at the boy; and he played his second trick. 'I believe you have
something to tell me', he said. It rarely failed. Only the hardest cases, or the most
innocent, could resist the implication that he knew everything, and he was just
giving them a chance to confess. And the boy was no exception. 'You mean about
the rat sir?'...
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