Eyes on the table; Kim Stuttard on signals and silences
‘Within this context, eyes are such a constant as they signify being watched or judged. As with all the illustrations, the eyes are more concerned with symbolisms, a kind of hieroglyphic, than with some grand pictorial reproduction.‘
– What is it about eyes that makes them so prominent in your recent work?
My work explores themes of cultural and social cues anchored in notions of table manners and the many systems and traditions in place that regulate dining and ‘good behaviour’. Within this context, eyes are such a constant as they signify being watched or judged. As with all the illustrations, the eyes are more concerned with symbolisms, a kind of hieroglyphic, than with some grand pictorial reproduction. Everyone knows the feeling of a grown-up ‘giving you the eye’ when your behaviour wasn’t on par. It was this that inspired their inclusion, as they point to the subtle social cues wrapped up in nonverbal communication that we all read instantly. There can be something quite oppressive about being watched. Especially if you are uncertain about the particular social expectations or within the context of my work, how to use a fork properly and the eyes are there to represent the cultural overseer, ensuring all is correct and above board.
– Is there a story behind the influence of non-verbal communication in your pieces, and why you try so often to include this in your work?
For certain nonverbal communication is a major component of social cues when it comes to controlling and reenforcing the parameters of expected behaviour, which is the main narrative I’m exploring within this work. It predates language in our social development and is culturally specific, as its function is to encourage belonging and acceptance, which inevitably changes in accordance with geography. Both are important elements in our journey to becoming ‘socially acceptable’.
In relation to my work, this revolves around simplified pictorial representations as a tool to communicate or for instruction. In the way that a sign is more immediate than language, due to its straightforwardness.
When initially looking for stories to tell, I turned to social media to gather personal anecdotes concerning what people associates with dinning rituals. An array of responses returned, some sentimental, some humorous, some cosy, some complex and some distressing. This illuminated the complexity of the theme and inspired surfaces that incorporated simple elements layered and juxtaposed. Resulting in busy and complicated illustrations that spoke of the actual complexity and diversity of the demands made on us to comply.
In embracing complexity, the work attempts to negate overtly simplifying the multifaceted issues at hand. The complexity of the surfaces speak of the complexity of the internal dialogue that surrounds our identity and cultural construction, and how they are initially embedded and constantly reinforced and renewed. The different symbols and signifiers we negotiate to decipher our sense of self, our sense of place.
– Would you consider your work as breaking the rules of what it means to be “socially acceptable”? And what is one of your works that speaks the loudest?
I think this body of work questions, illuminates and pokes fun at the complexity of these systems, rather than breaking the rules. It’s a voyage of discovery, initiated by a realisation that there are systems in place surrounding formal dining that I had no idea about. I was interested in how this fundamental activity of nourishing ourselves had been regimented and structured, almost tribalized to separate and organise a social hierarchy. Personally, I experienced it as a class difference, a notion of civilised behaviour anchored in the complication of systems such as ‘silver service’, which has simply not been part of my cultural education or expectation.
This inspired me in a few ways. Firstly, I produced pieces commemorating the everyday, giving voice to working class traditions and anecdotal tales. This included things like licking cake to claim it, eating your peas with honey, and not putting shoes on a table. This speaks of the importance of representing working class cultures to elevate or claim a space. Work that explored this theme was the tryptic “Not on the Table” that illustrated these traditions alongside text about eating your broccoli etc. The second theme I was drawn to was that of instructions, apparent in the piece “Back to Front”. Again, anchored in the everyday, this revolves around toilet habits and hygiene. The third theme and the one that has prevailed is that of complexity and the over whelming amount that must be negotiated if you are not versed in the required etiquette. This has manifested in several pieces, including “Salade, Meat, Pud”, “Yuck and Yum” and “Teatime”.
– With the social themes explored in your work, how has the public responded to your art so far?
The response from the public has been good up to now. The theme evokes individuals to reminisce about their own dining traditions and how these have followed them to maturity and, in turn, have been incorporated into their own domestic spaces. In celebrating and commemorating the ‘everyday’, this work is thematically accessible to a broad range of people, which is an important aspect of my practice. In commemorating working-class traditions or illuminating a working-class perspective, it is important that you communicate and hence include as wide a spectrum of people as possible. This approachability, I believe, is also enhanced with the use of bold colours and patterns. This vibrant palette and iconography don’t take themselves too seriously. A sense of fun makes everything a little more user-friendly.
– Your way of blending the message between the fun and colours is amazing, and I am happy to hear the public feels it as well. Can you describe for us the creative process behind one of your pieces, and tell us what the most difficult step was?
My creative process is firmly embedded in an ethos of experimentation. This keeps the process both creatively and intellectually engaging for me as a practitioner. Anchoring all this is a solid base of preliminary designs and drawings; these are essential and have helped build a visual library that is my constant reference point. It is also important to balance the predetermined and the spontaneous and allow the making process to play its part in the eventual outcome. An informed starting point is vital but so is a creative, intuitive freedom, and a solid body of visual research gives a concrete foundation for this spontaneity to emerge.
A love of colour and pattern is also a driving force for this body of work, which certainly allows me to totally indulge.
To illuminate the intricacies of my working process, I think illustrations are needed. The piece “Salade, Meat, Pud” is a good example of this practice. This started with an exploration of the willow pattern. I opted for this for several reasons: its rich narrative, it is of personal significance as my mum always collected it, it also has an abundance of patterns and detail to interpret and explore, and finally, it exalts the everyday, a motivational focus for this body of work from the onset.
From the initial photographs, I did lots of studies; these weren’t initially focused on any particular outcome but just on investigating the patterns (images 1 and 2). From these studies, I explored potential forms, taking the 2D pattern and translating to 3D (images 3 and 4). This process produced a wide variety of potential outcomes; the next step was to print the designs out so they could be grouped or collaged together (image 5). It was through this methodology that I arrived at a form for this particular piece (images 6-9).
The surface was the product of a different creative route. For this, I focused on a theme and explored symbolism, text and colour, initially in a sketchbook. These resulted in busy pages that offered lots of potential applications (image 10). This example was focused on cutlery, how it has different jobs, how it should be held, etc. (Image 11 final piece).
As for what is the most difficult step, this can occur at any point with ceramics, particularly with pieces that are fired up to 3 times. I do all I can to control that element, but also accept that the firing is its own creative process and something you just have to work with. Another difficulty can be generating ideas, with this I always return to drawing, sometimes with a pen, sometimes with clay. I approach this with a sense of play, so the process isn’t too precious, which I find frees up the creative response.
