|installation in waiting|
The annual MA show is nearly ready. Tonight is the night.
Blood, sweat and tears makes it's debut, and then I will gracefully bow out.
No more do I wish to get three hundred Whats-app messages daily about when I might like to sit in a room tucked away at the end of the corridor that no-one will find, as the invigilator for a show that is just work in progress for those who have another year of this game before they become famous.
No more trekking to London to find my route barred by builders, or the library closed for a staff meeting.
|moving goods and workmen|
But before the term is ended we must put on a show, and before we can put on a show we must paint the walls and make our shelves, and mop the floor.
Plug sockets must be hidden under paper and painted over the top.
I got out of being a carpenter/painter by showing a piece of messy work that needs a messy plinth that had been discarded by a previous student.
|not quite ready yet|
|not a mop - art not yet on the wall|
|plastic and scourer|
|not quite ready yet 2|
|tools are in short supply|
|not quite ready yet 3|
|white paint is de rigeur|
|but pink is more fun|
|now we are carpenters and decorators too|
But I made a very good job of sweeping the floor, having carried a dustpan and brush all around London for a day.
|a proper gallery - Whitechapel Gallery|
The show was all about dust.
I can sell you a bag if you come along to the MA show.
I will be helping to run the shop, where books that people have laboured over for hours and hours are being sold for about £5.
That's art for you....
You will find the dust considerably more expensive.
Anyway, the signs are up, so you won't get lost.
One work sums it all up nicely.
I will be the one in the tennis mask, too embarrassed to show my face.
Apparently Chris Evert looks like this.
Roll on Sunday and the Wimbledon tennis final.
He's the only one left in it.