From A to B

"We live in tension between what we were and can think and these new things that we are unable to represent."

Yesterday I went to an astounding exhibition on contemporary cartographies at Barcelona's Caixa Forum. It was a beautifully curated selection of maps ranging from the physical to the emotional - each striving to translate and codify the human experience.

I love a mind map (or spider diagram). Though mine often resemble the crazed scratchings of a mad person, they nonetheless help me get my thoughts down and literally map out the issues - and possible solutions - at hand. From work to personal challenges, there's very little that a mind map doesn't tease out and bring structured thinking to. So it was inspiring to see how other people navigate both their real and metaphorical landscapes.

Zarina Hashmi's series, 'Cities I Called Home', are minimalist aerial views of various cities. Their raw, etched nature reflect her ingrained knowledge of each city, but also the tenacious nature of memory. How easy it is for the mind maps of one's environment to deteriorate out of context.

Perhaps the most impressive work in the exhibition were Mark Lombardi's 'narrative structures'. His sociograms document financial and political frauds and were, according to Wikipedia, his way of transcribing the thousands of index cards which constituted his research. Evidently unable to cope with such vast quantities of information, Lombardi hand-processed them into a format which reflected his thinking style, rather than simply the linear nature of the facts. At the risk of sounding horribly pretentious, Lombardi's "narrative structures" strongly reminded me of Sol LeWitt's wall drawings: The hand of the artist (or in LeWitt's case artists) creates a near-mechanical output that are at once rigourous and beautiful.

The exhibition was especially poignant for me as all my maps get updated with new cities, new journeys and new memories. But while the physical journey from London to Barclona has been linear, the breathing space this break has provided will loom large and bright on my emotional map for sometime to come.

Sentences on concept

While in New York this past week, I went upstate to visit the Dia:Beacon gallery. Just an hour and a half north of Manhattan - a stunning journey along the Hudson - Dia:Beacon houses major works of art from the 1960s to the present within nearly 300,000-square-foot of naturally lit gallery space.

Of all the artists in the collection - including Louise Bourgeois, Michael Heizer and Gerhard Richter - the one who captivated me the most was Sol LeWitt. I'd not previously heard of him, so to be confronted suddenly with his almost algorithmic approach to art was overwhelming. LeWitt laid down rules for the construction of his pieces, and defined Conceptual Art in the process. Here, it appeared to me, was a strategist's artist.

 In LeWitt's 'Sentences on Conceptual Art' (1969), two from his list of 35 stand out.

10. Ideas can be works of art; they are in a chain of development that may eventually find some form. All ideas need not be made physical. 


32. Banal ideas cannot be rescued by beautiful execution. 

As someone who spends most of my time articulating ideas in preparation for the creative process, LeWitt's words are inspirational. He clearly views the definition of the concept as an intrinsic part of the finished piece - the perfect output only achievable through the realisation of a perfect idea. As a brand strategist, I fully aspire to inform the creative process in that way.

For some reason LeWitt's work reminds me of a collection of Da Vinci's sketches I saw in Paris. Not the universally known 'Vetruvian Man', but just simple drawings of the human form - a leg, a neck, or a hand. Da Vinci's finished paintings are astounding, but his sketches show a working, a refining and a laying down of immovable rules, which can never be compromised. Yet, while Da Vinci needed to understand the biological makeup of the body in order to realistically capture his subjects, LeWitt had no such need. Driven only, it seems, by the intention to create, LeWitt makes the intention a creative act.

Of course, I may be looking at this all wrong. I have an Amazon order on its way, which should enlighten me further. Nevertheless, as an educated onlooker, or otherwise, I am in awe of how LeWitt creates something far more powerful than the sum of its parts, purely by laying those parts bare to the viewer.

Hockney: The Art of Seeing

I thoroughly, thoroughly recommend that you watch the Hockney documentary which aired on BBC2 this evening. He is so articulate, so self-knowing and so inspired by change of all kinds, that it really was a revelation.

In one part of the programme, Hockney talks about how memory affects how we see the world. That no two people can ever look at the same thing in the same way. And, in that sense, we are all alone. But, while even he laughs slightly at his bleak philosophy, there is something magical about that idea. How boring would this world be if we all looked and saw in the same way?

It feels somewhat trite to say, but Instagram is confirmation of this beautiful aloneness we all experience. The ease and speed of the platform allows us all to share what we each are noticing in the world; the little things which prick our memories and emanate with individual meaning. On a larger, more artistic way, this is precisely the mentality Hockney seems to be both reflecting and encouraging in his RA show. The eighteen screen, moving image landscape allows each viewer to focus on what they are drawn to, not what the artist intends.

Whether it be time shifting the seasons, or providing the passage for technological progress, Hockney's embrace of it is a lesson for us all.

David Hockney: The Art of Seeing
http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b01c7wmr/The_Culture_Show_2011_2012_David_Hockney_The_Art_of_Seeing_A_Culture_Show_Special/

Camillastore for Project10.



Check out the latest edition of the Project10 newspaper, with a tweeted contribution from yours truly and Panja Gobel, with gorgeous illustration by Emma Barratt. Panja and I ourselves the challenge to discuss women in design and technology within a 140 character field on Twitter. Under the hashtag #unPandC, we ranted at each other for 3 days. To spice things up a bit we added the extra challenge to include five quotes each from our feisty heroine, Mae West, in our tweeted dialogue. To find out more about the wonderful Project10, click this.

Trend addict, moi?

On a blissful day off work, I nipped down to the Royal Academy to see what all the fuss is about the Anish Kapoor exhibition. A Renaissancist at, I struggled to understand exactly what made it 'art', but the show is certainly entertaining and engaging. Best of all was a egg-timer shaped mirror which reduces your reflection to a single stripe of colour. When surrounded by people, the mirror acts as a perfect chart for "trending" colours. It seems black, dusky blue, dark grey and highlights of teal are all hot amongst art lovers right now. Who knew?