Issue 46, 27th July 2017
Well, I think that went rather well. But it does feel strange to be on the other side of the Royal College of Art - a bit sad, like breaking up when you're still in love, but tinged with the joy of the open road to who knows where. Nevertheless, I dread endings, don't you?
All in all there were 462 etchings, a bronze cast of a Wildermann helmet, a 6 1/2 minute moving image diptych and a 53 1/2 minute sound piece in the degree show. Plus the guest appearance of the Wildermann itself at the private view on 23rd June. I quite enjoyed seeing it all in place, but it was nerve wracking sitting there for two weeks chatting to visitors, wondering if it was all worth it and whether people 'got it', and then having my mother's relentless voice overhead relating anecdotes on leetle feeshes or commenting on Brexit or asking me where dad was over and over again for eight hours each day. It's all about my mother really. I think that might be one of my next projects: Our Mothers.
On the other hand, there's a lot to do now. There was no accolade and no glittering prize - no societal awe, global recognition or remuneration (despite the hard work of my social media team) - which means trying to think up fresh exhibition venues, forking out what's left in my bank account on overpriced competitions, hanging out at private views trying to get noticed by the Right Ones (ugh - and where are the canapés like from fifteen years ago?), menial labouring, etc. etc. Ugly drawbacks, and I'm shy. And my mother still pesters me, what happens now? What job will I get? How's the pension plan coming along? And at my age!
I sensed all the parents at the Convocation in the Albert Hall thinking the same one thing when the Architecture graduates stood up to shake hands with old Dyson: Now there's a fine course with prospects, architecture, why didn't my darling study that?
I'm in Germany at the moment, recovering my wits at the former Stuckist HQ near Göttingen. I'm not a Stuckist (do they even exist anymore?), but there are horses, dogs, cats and chickens there that need my love. It's been raining non-stop for three days and the dogs smell. Tonight a bid them farewell and go a little further up the River of Death - skirting Hell Valley - to Reileifzen, and then it's back to Blighty and the Wapping studio.
The new website is up and running, enjoy it. I shall miss thelieoftheland.co.uk (thank you, Guylaine, for maintaining it for so many years - and lovely to see you in the Alsace last week).
www.karlpeterpenke.com
All in all there were 462 etchings, a bronze cast of a Wildermann helmet, a 6 1/2 minute moving image diptych and a 53 1/2 minute sound piece in the degree show. Plus the guest appearance of the Wildermann itself at the private view on 23rd June. I quite enjoyed seeing it all in place, but it was nerve wracking sitting there for two weeks chatting to visitors, wondering if it was all worth it and whether people 'got it', and then having my mother's relentless voice overhead relating anecdotes on leetle feeshes or commenting on Brexit or asking me where dad was over and over again for eight hours each day. It's all about my mother really. I think that might be one of my next projects: Our Mothers.
On the other hand, there's a lot to do now. There was no accolade and no glittering prize - no societal awe, global recognition or remuneration (despite the hard work of my social media team) - which means trying to think up fresh exhibition venues, forking out what's left in my bank account on overpriced competitions, hanging out at private views trying to get noticed by the Right Ones (ugh - and where are the canapés like from fifteen years ago?), menial labouring, etc. etc. Ugly drawbacks, and I'm shy. And my mother still pesters me, what happens now? What job will I get? How's the pension plan coming along? And at my age!
I sensed all the parents at the Convocation in the Albert Hall thinking the same one thing when the Architecture graduates stood up to shake hands with old Dyson: Now there's a fine course with prospects, architecture, why didn't my darling study that?
I'm in Germany at the moment, recovering my wits at the former Stuckist HQ near Göttingen. I'm not a Stuckist (do they even exist anymore?), but there are horses, dogs, cats and chickens there that need my love. It's been raining non-stop for three days and the dogs smell. Tonight a bid them farewell and go a little further up the River of Death - skirting Hell Valley - to Reileifzen, and then it's back to Blighty and the Wapping studio.
The new website is up and running, enjoy it. I shall miss thelieoftheland.co.uk (thank you, Guylaine, for maintaining it for so many years - and lovely to see you in the Alsace last week).
www.karlpeterpenke.com
Professor David Rayson, Rut Blees Luxemburg,
the Wildermann & other others
the Wildermann & other others
