Thank you PHYLLIDA BARLOW – you absolute fucking legend.

Photo of a page from the book: "Objects for... and other things Phyllida Barlow showing 'Vigil 1' 1989. Paper, bitumen, polythene, sellotape, vinyl, vinyl tape. Large sculpture in disused churchyard, Windsor

Vigil 1 by Phyllida Barlow, 1989
Paper, bitumen, polythene, sellotape, vinyl, vinyl tape.
Overall of space: 900 x 210 (tallest work) x 1500cms.
Disused churchyard, Windsor

Photos of pages from the excellent book: "Phyllida Barlow. Objects for... and other things’ Black Dog Publishing, 2004

Phyllida Barlow, 4 April 1944 – 12 March 2023

It’s Monday 13 March 2023, I clocked off from work around 6:30pm and had a quick look at my Instagram feed. A beautiful photo of Phyllida Barlow is there. I smile. It’s always so lovely to see her in my feed. Then I see the caption and am shocked and deeply saddened to read she has died.

Brilliant Phyllida. Her endless devotion to her practice and curiosity to see what would emerge from it. How she kept on practicing while raising five kids and teaching at art school!!! How the fuck is that even possible?! I struggle with two kids and my part time job.

I remember going to her talk at Jerwood space after a long boring day at in my full time job. It was pre-kids for me so I’m guessing 2009/10… anyway, typically I was feeling pathos and resentment at having to be a wage slave to survive and then having little energy, time, or money to practice my art. But...

I listened carefully and was transfixed and energised by Phyllida’s words. She told stories about making work in the night while the kids slept. Incorporating the TV, ironing board, chairs, tables… with whatever materials she could get hold of. She made the awesome connection while picking the kids up from school about the playground not being used during weekends. And then asked if she could use it (I love that!)! They said yes. She’d rock up with a van load of materials, whatever was cheap, free, waste, an abundance of, and play, make, look, move around, be in the presence of her art. Have. No. Audience.

I hugely admire the genius bolt of neurons blasting excited messages in her brain. The visceral energy. Connecting the dots of her imagination, feeling her way around materials, form, structure, gravity, and surroundings, to make her sculptures come into being with such apparent ease and confidence. I realise that it wasn’t always easy… things went ‘wrong’ or not as expected, as they do when you’re making art, but I don't think there was any resistance to that part of the process. It was simply accepted as a vital part of the sculpture coming into being.

Well. I fucking loved that talk. I already was in love with her art, and had dared myself to speak briefly a few times (star-struck even before she hit the big time) to her while I was at the Slade - each time was special and nourishing, as she instantly gave her full attention to being in the present conversation. However, this Jerwood talk was an enormously useful kick up the arse, it being a couple of years after art school, and gave permission to do your own thing, your own way. Acknowledging your circumstances but testing out the rigidity of apparent boundaries. Seizing opportunities and knowing it’s not necessary to follow the mainstream ‘idealised’ route.

I decided at this point I would always hold this talk as a kind of Talisman in my head to sort my shit out when my pathos got too bad. I’m okay accepting a bit of pathos once in a while as part of the course, but mainly it’s a drain and needs to fuck off.

Step by step, consistent nurture of practice, staying curious about what my art will become. I keep going. For so many of us, limitations make the journey excruciatingly slow at times but I am practicing daily accepting the fluidity of peaks, troughs, and plateaus being as much part of the art as the ‘art’. I have so much gratitude that I have lived in the same time-line as Phyllida and got to experience the energy of her and her fucking awesome art.

Thank you Phyllida. I continue to learn so much from being with your art and my memories of your spirit and words. X

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