“Being in-relation-to” Work by Dominique Edwards
By Layla Leiman
Between 10 and 5
23 June 2015
Dominique Edwards’ recent solo exhibition Buikspraak/Gutspeak at Commune. 1 explored a series of impossible ontological quandaries with playfulness and meticulousness. The various materials on the show presented different knowledge systems, microcosms of form and space and tension and potential. The title of the exhibition, Buikspraak/Gutspeak, plays with interpretation and translation (‘buikspraak’ translates literally as ‘gutspeak’ but by definition is ventriloquism), which is also a main theme in the body of work. The two words, more than translations of each other, exist beside one another and each bring their own voice to the work. In this sense language is simultaneously inadequate and redundant.
It’s within such paradoxical conundrums that Dominique is most interested, and with which the works on this show engage.
For a show that’s been two years in the making, can you pinpoint for us where it all started and how it took shape from there?
There is no definitive point that I am able to identify as one of departure for this show. Many of the pieces have been informed by recurring thoughts/marks/processes (some of them relatively dormant/obscure/insistent), that I have been turning over, threading and playing with for many years, and will most likely continue to do so indefinitely. The work on show is probably more of a temporary pause, an opportunity to step back for a moment and look at what has transpired. The notion of “a beginning,” or “beginning,” or “beginnings” is however interesting. One might retrospectively discuss how things have always been there: and that-it-is only when we take note of them, that we are able to point at them, play with them, ingest and regurgitate them, feverishly sweat them out – or perhaps succumb to them, fold or sink into them – a kind of acceptance of material and process. Perhaps the very notion of “a/beginning/s” is the most accurate way to describe the thinking that has contributed to the conscious making of this work. I am interested in how things are in the world. How they are made and retain their form. In particular, materials that hold themselves, as our bodies do – seamlessly.
How would you describe your style of artmaking, and what influences it?
I would not refer to what I do as a style in any kind of way. The work I make is in response to an ongoing inquiry. One that concerns, among many other queries, the notion of “being-in-relation-to.” There is no definitive answer or clause or descriptive paragraph that one might rely on to explain this – as it remains in continuous flux, aware and seemingly alive – surreptitiously erupting into something entirely different at the slightest hint or provocation of attempting to pin it down.
Buikspraak/Gutspeak incorporates works across a wide range of traditional and unconventional materials. Can you give us a few examples of what appeals to you about working in and with such a variety of mediums?
Every material seems to present a comprehensive knowledge system of its own, one that is for me – the variable agent in question and interacting with it – entirely informed by my-relation-to that material and subsequent interaction with it. The multiplicity of the variables that present themselves at these moments is what holds my interest. We choose how to see, name and identify things in the world. What happens when we choose to do something else with them?
Where language fails to articulate the concept of ‘gutspeak’, how does visual evocation begin to give voice to this notion?
This is something the viewer needs to explore, if so inclined, by looking at the work. This aspect of the show is premised on the notion that language is not enough and that in some cases, it is too much. The materials and how they have been handled, in conjunction with their titles in both English and Afrikaans, but not as a translation of one another, rather beside one another – each bringing their own voice to the work, is an attempt at exploring this.
How do density and space, as well as found and re-configured objects in your works begin to function as a means of translating ‘gutspeak’ into a set of visual codes?
I find that the exploration of materials and the making of work requires a kind of dwelling. This might be specific, with regards to the physicality of interacting with the material in-studio, but it is also an in-dwelling; situated in the hollows of one’s mind and/or/in-conjunction-with the visceral knee-jerk reaction of the gut – some kind of understanding of the material and what happens when you engage with it – a kind of knowledge that is self-reflective, navigated and explored by means of “being” (whatever that might mean). When it comes to density in relation to the notion of gutspeak (to speak with your gut, your gut to be a voice that belongs to someone or something else, to have or not have a voice) one cannot ignore the frequently overwhelming desire we have “to-know.” Knowing, not knowing – degrees of knowing/seeing, not seeing, degrees of visibility – things are potentially what we perceive them to be because of their density – this can however shift. Knowing shifts…I think…and this can be frustrating.
The nature of many of the works implies a kind of obsessive compulsiveness. Is this something that you’re ‘aware’ of and which functions thematically in the show? Please explain.
This is something that I am aware of. Making requires time and being alone. I have found that makers of things are compelled to exercise some form or shape of what might be described as obsessive compulsive behaviour. This is perhaps more easily visible in my work due to the nature of the mark as being one that bears witness to that time. This modality of making however could also be described or interpreted as “care,” or an acute attempt at looking, really looking. One might find all life to be a manifestation of some kind of obsessiveness. We try to keep it together. To do this, we tend to keep an eye on it, exercise perhaps a certain degree of control. Bodies need to be clothed, fed, washed and housed – tended to, every day – for as long as we live: care, obsession, compulsion, fear of death, an unequivocal embrace of life and being alive… – one could potentiality frame this however you find yourself so inclined – do all of us not exercise this “obsessive compulsiveness?” Is being alive, or living not a kind of “obsessive compulsiveness?”
Did you resolve any of your ontological queries regarding the nature and source of ‘gutspeak’ through the process of making?
The short answer to this question is “No.” There are however glimmers of insight – fleeting and slippery they might be – into how one makes decisions, reacts, perceives, behaves and ultimately “is-in-the-world.” This collective modality of being (gutspeak) as something we return to, hold on to, and potentially allow ourselves to be defined by in some way or another, is something I believe all artists encounter when making work. Something that I will continue to negotiate – and hopefully in time, with understanding, humour and a sense of play – however malicious it might be.
This exhibition is evidently very personal in many regards. What would you hope that a viewer takes away from seeing it?
An interest in material and its transformation, a glimpse at the multiplicity of things in the world and their varied incarnations – but more than anything else, a sense of play and wonder with regard to what we perceive things to be.