My art practice is an exploration into the phenomena of sound and nothingness. This is explored through the experiential experiences of searching for stillness, and the eternal search for a quiet space to be.
Previous projects have been centred around the self, being with oneself, with ones quietness and intimate silence. Within this previous work I recorded the sounds of my being alone.
These sound recordings then informed drawings which were created with a threadless sewing machine. The non-stitches echo sounds made through repeated acts of daily life, and the seemingly small events, rituals and rhythms that mark the passage of time. The works are called ‘notations’ or ‘listening drawings’. The drawings are a response to the delicate and subtle sounds of my own breath and body movements.
The work is now progressing on, this was aided by two weekly residencies at The Jamieson Library, Hypatia Trust in Cornwall, allowing time for a new project to emerge.
The new work is developing away from self. Although still subjective, the work is now a response to exterior environments. Through drawing, scoring, scratching and stitching on the surface of paper, I respond to the sounds of the weather, the natural environment around me and create marks. The reintroduction of thread into the work, has been an important step forward, and resonates with my enquiry into silence, and whether that is visible in the work. Patricia Laurence talks of Virginia Woolf’s writing ‘Woolf created a new language of the mind and arranged a metaphor of silence from one of absence or oppression to one of presence and strength’.
These new works are the beginning of a deep level of enquiry into the presence of silence generating ideas and research conversations, which readdress my developing methodologies and working processes.
My Sister Life is the naming of her creative processes and work as an artist - Sarah King's work is born out of necessity. There is about making connections, search for the overlooked in her practice, through the sensitivity of listening for silence and realising the impossible absence of silence she records through drawing, stitch and audio the repeated acts of daily life, the seemingly small events, rituals and rhythms which mark the passage of time.
Her latest body of work was aided by two residencies at the Jamieson Library, Hypatia Trust in Cornwall between 2011 and 2012. The work has also developed through a response to exterior environmental sounds - listening without looking. Through drawing, scoring, stitching, recording and listening she has responded to exterior sounds - the weather - creating a series of repeated drawings, mapping sounds and creating trace. Archivist of her everyday life, Sarah King records thoughts through the marking off of time, She uses marks for mapping, and she scores trace through marking repeated sound.
The reintroduction of thread into the work has been an important step forward, and resonates with the enquiry into silence, and whether or not that is visible in the work.
King says: “The drawings become extensions of the thoughts and conversations I am having with myself. My exploration is fuelled by considering whether I can communicate silence, or rather an absence of silence with the marks in stitch. The reintroduction of thread back into the work is my attempt to leave a trace of myself and my experience of silence.
These new works are the continuation of a deep level of enquiry into the presence of silence generating ideas and research conversations which readdress my developing methodologies and working processes.” They are deeply concerned of time and forgetfulness, where the fleeting evanescence of whiteness can be a reflection of the sublime.
The works also have opened into another direction: where every separation is a link, as much between the sound of rain and breath and the silence afterwards, where the works on paper evoke light and water, to encapsulate and somehow map moments of being.
She took my hand and turned it over, she was not interested in reading my palm, instead she traced its outline with her fingertip. She told me that if you wanted to map the line of a human hand you could not do so. The line of a hand is an endless line. She told me that a hand was no different when it was read, to the branches of trees, or their hidden roots. She told me I shared my fate with the clouds and the coastlines. That every tributary has its own tributaries, that every source has its own sources, that my hand was just another coastline with no end of inlets, peninsulas, archipelagos. She told me that the line of a human hand went on forever. ‘But what does it mean?’ I asked. ‘Love is stronger than fear’ she said.
– Anthony Sheridan - Love’s Origins