# data[].attributes.body
To keep from last time:

Cig Packs
Pregnancy test

Polaroids

Mirror

Fabric pieces

To make new:

Clothing

Condoms

Empty cups

Drug bags

Spiking - needle ornament

Bottle caps

Wine cork

Flashy colours - club clothes

Orbs as suggestion box

# data[].attributes.body
23rd Feb 2022 @ Jaguar Shoes Shoreditch

Naked Grapefruit

Home Safe

Our Streets Now

Investigating space and safety when it comes to the body

Bars bring up conversations about toxic masculinity, patriarchy and misogyny

Bodily autonomy is the human right that can be violated the most during a night out me this is what we want to bring up

Let’s go out out \ classic Friday night

Collect stories of others -
Ask on insta stories and w posters - have you ever received harassment in Public spaces

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.instagram.com/creaming.strawberries/

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
A feminist artistic duo that works on the exposure of trauma from growing up in a patriarchal and misogynistic society.
By @naistini.art + @cocowa_art

# data[].attributes.body
Wall of Pain
- Installation made of a floating wall consisting of a handwritten letters hung/assembled with fishing lines or red embroidery thread.
Fishing line because it is visible but we are free to ignore it just like women's suffering.
Red embroidery thread for an "organic" appeal and red colour of passion/ blood shed.

- Shrine of heartbreak with gathered artifacts on the floor (pictures, drawings, bottles of wine and whiskey, cigarette boxes and ashtray, books, earrings, keychains

# data[].attributes.body
Stories of gender based micro-aggressions that women identifying individuals face daily. Looking to expose these events through creating a safe space for people to share and discuss their experiences.

It’s rough being a woman isn’t it

As the doctor and I say... it’s a mans world isn’t it

Men don’t even know the things we go through

I miss you very very very very much

But I miss who I was before you even more

Don’t swallow your anger, you’ll choke on it

Invite women to make their own?

Have empty clips hanging down - feel collective sense of femininity and healing

# data[].attributes.body
http://www.philippa-found.com/artworks#/confessional-audio-installation-of-lockdown-love-stories-peckham-safe-house/

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
'In the second national lockdown creating platforms for love and connection is more important than ever At the heart of lockdown love stories was the idea of creating connections in a time of social isolation, and ways of bringing stories to diverse communities to represent their voices through storytelling.

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.behance.net/gallery/13820877/To-Touch-Rachel-Ossip

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Rachel Ossip | 2015 | Graphic Design & Comparative Literature Welcome to the neighborhood. The neighborhood is a poem. Poems are traditionally intimate, two-dimension entities that create a single channel from author to reader. As the academic consideration and craft-basis of poetry becomes increasingly emphasized, its original purpose as entertainment is too often forgotten.

# data[].attributes.body
https://artsandculture.google.com/asset/psyco-slut-tracey-emin/IgFDgQ_fMwHC_w

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Tracey Emin 's Psyco Slut is a blanket overflowing with appliquéd words, phrases and patches of handwritten texts that draw on the most intimate details of the artist's personal history, not least her abortion, and early adolescent and childhood abuse. Psyco Slut was made in 1999; Emin's first blanket dates from 1993. Each one is collaged from what the artist describes as 'sacred fabrics', including her own and her parents' clothes and scraps of household furnishings. Psyco Slut featured in Emin's 2011 retrospective at the Hayward Gallery.

Explore museums and play with Art Transfer, Pocket Galleries, Art Selfie, and more

Recommended

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Psyco Slut - Tracey Emin - Google Arts & Culture

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Tracey Emin 's Psyco Slut is a blanket overflowing with appliquéd words, phrases and patches of handwritten texts that draw on the most intimate details of the artist's personal history, not least her abortion, and early adolescent and childhood abuse. Psyco Slut was made in 1999; Emin's first blanket dates from 1993.

# data[].attributes.body
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Jpn7PBODtFBwD_TjRxcYF6RGZx2yXpUkvoS61-Xkv7c/edit?usp=sharing

# data[].attributes.body
http://jenikya.com/blog/2019/02/tracey-emin-neon-art-at-kings-.html

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Last April, King's Cross train station introduced new artwork in the main terrace and directly underneath its impressive roof; the artwork was created by British artist Tracey Emin. The new neon sign artwork acts as a focal point along with the clock and the statue (seen from the entrace to the terrace) "The Meeting Place" by Paul Day. "The Meeting Place" depicts a couple embracing, a common sight at a train station. Emin's work is along the same theme and sends a message between London and Europe.

Tracey Emin was inspired by friends and family greeting each other at the train station, which sees trains depart and arrive London to Europe. The neon sign is created using her handwriting and is 20 meters long. Earlier this year and at the end of last year, we saw Emin experiment with neon artwork. It featured in her Christmas tree at Connaught Hotel ( Tracey Emin Designs The Connaught Christmas Tree (Mayfair, London)) and also in a piece that she showed for London Lumiere 2018.

This new artwork fits in well with the rest of the station. Have you seen it yet?

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Tracey Emin Neon Art at King's Cross: "I Want My Time With You"

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Last April, King's Cross train station introduced new artwork in the main terrace and directly underneath its impressive roof; the artwork was created by British artist Tracey Emin. The new neon sign artwork acts as a focal point along with the clock and the statue (seen from the entrace to the terrace) "The Meeting Place" by Paul Day.

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/395472411031310936/

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Landscape (2012), by Matt Donovan & Hallie Siegel. Clusters of words hang from the gallery ceiling in various plains and scales, creating a ‘landscape’ of phrases suspended in space. When viewed from the ideal vantage point, however, the viewer perceives a perfectly justified block of text on the ‘blank page’ page of the gallery wall. With text adapted from John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath. # word art, text-based art, conceptual art, installation, Grapes of Wrath, dust storm, John Steinbeck#

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Jun 26, 2016 - Landscape (2012), by Matt Donovan & Hallie Siegel. Clusters of words hang from the gallery ceiling in various plains and scales, creating a ‘landscape’ of phrases suspended in space. When viewed from the ideal vantage point, however, the viewer perceives a perfectly justified block of text on the ‘blank page’ page of the gallery wall. With text adapted from John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath. # word art, text-based art, conceptual art, installation, Grapes of Wrath, dust storm, John Steinbeck#

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.lockdownlovestories.com/exhibitions/lockdown-love-stories-london-underground

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Lockdown Love Stories on the London Underground — Lockdownlovestories

# data[].attributes.body
https://fineartamerica.com/featured/bruce-naumans-neon-at-moma-patrizio-cipollini.html

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Bruce Nauman's Neon At Moma by Patrizio Cipollini

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Bruce Nauman's Neon At Moma is a photograph by Patrizio Cipollini which was uploaded on July 23rd, 2012. The photograph may be purchased as wall art, home decor, apparel, phone cases, greeting cards, and more. All products are produced on-demand and shipped worldwide within 2 - 3 business days.

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2020/oct/05/bruce-nauman-review-tate-modern

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
ven before you get to Bruce Nauman's exhibition at Tate Modern, he's there. Washing his hands in a two-monitor video installed on the ground floor that inverts the same ritual, the same suds, the same palms and fingers kneading water and soap. Nauman's voices follow you up and down the stairwell, in a replay of his 2004 Turbine Hall commission, Raw Materials. In the Tate cafe, the video Good Boy, Bad Boy plays on monitors, like a disturbing conversation at the next table, while an hour-long video shows Nauman on his ranch, prosaically setting fences in the sun and heat. At the entrance to his show is a bright neon work, the one that tells you that the true artist helps the world by revealing mystic truths. Fat chance, as the artist might say.

And then we are there, plunged into the New Mexico night, and the mess of Nauman's studio, where he installed cameras to record the nocturnal activity in the empty building. Insects doodle bright trails of light in the gloom. There goes a mouse, running along the foot of a wall. I know that a cat appears at some point, but I missed it, in this almost six-hour work filmed over several weeks in 2001. I sit in one of the swivel chairs dotted about the dark space, paddling in circles with my feet and taking in the seven projected views, which are sometimes flipped back to front or inverted, bleached-out or saturated in colour. Sitting there turning in the projected night I feel like I have become part of the installation, and that I'm method-acting the artist himself, marooned in that creative emptiness from which everything in his art flows.

The True Artist Helps the World by Revealing Mystic Truths (Window or Wall Sign) 1967, by Bruce Nauman. Photograph: Guy Bell/Rex/Shutterstock

All sorts of rubbish and clutter lies around. There's a bucket, filthy with dried plaster. And a couple of waxy casts of human heads, dumped in the shadows on the floor. The word PROJECT is written on the wall - apropos of who knows what. Nothing gets a closeup and the cameras don't dwell on any of the details. The studio is the place where everything gets started, grinds to a halt, takes a reverse direction, begins again. The studio is the epicentre of Nauman's art, the place where he paces about, tries things out, drinks coffee, works at his inertia. Mapping the Studio is as much about dead time and waiting as it is a record of a place when he's not there.

Throughout his long career Nauman has made works from the near-to-hand (even from his hands themselves), from the circumstances he finds himself in, from floors and walls and his own body. In one of several early videos from the 1960s, we see him bouncing off the wall. In another he does a mincing contrapposto walk back and forth in a narrow corridor. In another, he gets himself into tortuous positions he can't hold for long, and walks in "an exaggerated manner" around the perimeter of a square he has marked out with tape on the studio floor. The things people get up to when they're alone.

Early sculptures saw him casting the space under his chair and, in Henry Moore Bound to Fail, casting his own back, with his hands tied behind him with rope (the thinking here was that however much younger British artists rejected Moore's influence in the 1960s, they might need him later). As it is, nothing gets lost in Nauman's art, and he returns to the same themes time and again - physical and psychological duress, cruelty and humour - the two are ever entwined, whether it is the slapstick of a man slipping on a banana skin, an abject clown in the toilet or a hanged man getting a startling involuntary erection in Nauman's bawdy, awful neon version of the game Hangman.

He even gets the viewer caught up in his roundelays of reversals and repetitions, inviting us to get sandwiched in a wire-mesh corridor through which we can barely pass (though you can't at Tate, for obvious Covid health and safety concerns), or to walk around a long, free-standing wall, where a camera records our passing and presents it on a monitor around the next corner, so we end up chasing our own time-delayed image, which disappears as soon as we catch sight of it. Constantly failing to catch up with yourself, you could spend all day going not so much round the wall as round the bend.

Anthro/Socio (Rinde Spinning) by Bruce Nauman. Photograph: Facundo Arrizabalaga/EPA

As well as the detritus of the studio there is a lot of sonic clutter in the galleries, and the cumulative sound leakage drives you on and keeps you on edge: the noise of camera equipment and projectors, amplified footfalls, distant yelling, the shouting clowns, the hum and clack of his neon works, the multiple ascendant bellowing and keening of actor and singer Rinde Eckert in Anthro/Socio from 1992. Cacophonous and unnerving, I have encountered Anthro/Socio, with the bald Eckert spinning multiple times, left to right and right to left, inverted and the right way up as he urgently roars out Nauman's brief implorings, on many occasions since first seeing it at the Hayward in 1998. What strikes me now is Eckert's extreme, staged vulnerability, his unappeasable unending infant need and isolation. "Feed me, help me, eat me, hurt me," he cries, in a rising stentorian clamour that never ceases. As a kind of counterpoint, or perhaps a premonition, one early sculpture has a mute concrete block with a plug and electrical cord emerging from it, like a cartoonish tail. Buried inside the block is a reel-to-reel tape recorder. Its original title was Tape Recorder with a Tape Loop of a Scream Wrapped in a Plastic Bag and Cast into the Center.

Human Nature/Knows Doesn't Know by Bruce Nauman. Photograph: Facundo Arrizabalaga/EPA

Later, we see a female mime artist following the instructions of an unseen male, who dispassionately orders her to adopt different poses, including playing dead. Those waxy human heads return in a kind of shadow puppetry in the corners of the room where she appears and disappears, projected on the walls and on monitors. Sometimes we see a disembodied head swinging like a pendulum. The mawkish mime's costume and makeup make her seem less a performer than victim in a theatre of cruelty. Maybe her role protects her from it all becoming far too real.

However well I think I know Nauman's art, and most of the works here, this pared-down survey of over 50 years of work continues to thrill and to disturb. I have no doubt at all of Nauman's greatness, from his early, clunky black-and-white videos in which he is like a man trying to keep fit and to assert some agency in solitary, to a later sculptural installation, in which black marble cubes sit in the nasty pallor of yellow sodium lights, and in which minimalism is turned into a kind of authoritarian terminus. In the work Walks In, Walks Out, a visibly aged Nauman walks in front of his own 2015 reworking of his 1968 video Walk with Contrapposto: here, Nauman reminds me of one of Alfred Hitchcock's turns as a walk-on part in his own movies. Nauman the artist, like Hitchcock, is not above self-parody and humour, as well as being thoroughly uncompromising. Squeezing the most out of almost nothing at all he takes everything to the limit. And then some.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Bruce Nauman review - 'I have no doubt of his greatness'

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
ven before you get to Bruce Nauman's exhibition at Tate Modern, he's there. Washing his hands in a two-monitor video installed on the ground floor that inverts the same ritual, the same suds, the same palms and fingers kneading water and soap.

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.artbasel.com/catalog/artwork/19252/Bruce-Nauman-EAT-DEATH

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
neon tubing with clear glass tubing suspension frame

Yellow (Eat) glass tubing superimposed on blue (Death) tubing with glass tubing suspension frame; Ed 6/6. Death: 7 3/8 x 25 1/4 x 2 1/8 inches 18,7 x 64,1 x 5,4 cm. Eat: 7 1/2 x 13 7/8 x 1 1/2 inches 19,1 x 35,2 x 3,8 cm.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Yellow (Eat) glass tubing superimposed on blue (Death) tubing with glass tubing suspension frame; Ed 6/6. Death: 7 3/8 x 25 1/4 x 2 1/8 inches 18,7 x 64,1 x 5,4 cm. Eat: 7 1/2 x 13 7/8 x 1 1/2 inches 19,1 x 35,2 x 3,8 cm.