me and amelia...

bye!
will post something new from India!

distance makes the heart....

i'm really going to miss my sewing machine...

i really really am....

Armanious & Armanious

i draw like my father...

bling bling

if i dont finish sewing the lining (in quilted chinese brocade covered in red dragons... hehehhe) of my fur coat soon, i'll be stitching it on the plane. and i have a feeling the airline will be uncomfortable with letting someone with an arab name on a plane with big needles...
well, i suppose i did get a little distracted today by getting my dad to set a new diamond in my tooth. this one is bigger than the last, and set in white gold.... wait, doesn't everyone need more diamonds in their teeth? i mean... come on.... what more could a girl ask for?
:) (million dollar smile)

shrink ray

oh and this is another little thing i'm working on, besides the mazes and Skippy my half decomposed kangaroo...
i want a little piece of Home to take to india and the americas with me, so this is my jewellery box.
guess i'll probably be spending quite some time trying to get through customs....

maze phase

pictures by johnny (thanks johnny!) of another maze of mine, this time at the Art in the Open festival, in mosman darling, mosman.
in the half an hour when vicki and i had a coffee and walked down the main street, we counted 32 (32!!) polo shirts! eeeeeeeeveryone in mosman wears polo shirts! needless to say, between the two of us, and vickis converse gumbots with the little pink flowers, we kind of stuck out around there....
i need more ground to draw mazes!

Skippy the bush kangaroo

cleaning up kangaroo bones is a dirty, stinky, gross job.
but someone has to do it huh...

commitment phobic....

so i recently found out that there are a couple of people who actually read this thing! (hi mum!)
well... i applied for my visa... so it looks like, whether i'm terrified or not, i'm going on my residency to india.
other than sitting nervously in the indian embassy for hours, with two illegal weapons on me, i've been lying in bed after inadvertently inhaling hydrochloric acid. shhhh.... don't tell my uni supervisor....
E.

she has read too many books and it has addled her mind

by the light of the moon

the red moon over sydney last week!

Aftermath

a few pictures from Jill...
just till i get my head together and tell you all about it...

Jack fell down and broke his crown

Dear Friends,

I’m having a little exhibition opening on Thursday the 9^th of August from 7 till 10 pm

So come round if you can, for tea, walking my little maze, playing with jacks and looking at Scott’s beautiful pictures!

Oh and if you have trouble finding the place, give me a bell on 0412799298. Don’t be misled by the ghosts that wander around SCA at night…..

Ta!

Lilith of the Labyrinth

Digging a Tunnel to China

Hooray! i finished my work for the China Project!

Lillith of the Labyrinth

so my little labyrinth will be ready for people to get lost in sometime in early august. probably the 9th or the 10th depending on how long it actually takes me to set up...

will post more details soon.

E.

the minotaur

oh yeah, i have a blog.
i have been drawing up plans for a maze
and trying to walk over them carefully becuase they are convering almost my entire living room floor.
and i left my castle in st petersburg for one in new delhi.
it seems like a good deal, but where oh where will i keep my anvil?

i have been doing lots of work in my studio, see how dirty my hands are! yes... i eat with these....

diet craze

The E.Armanious Crash Diet

Step One: eat whatever you like, whenever you like

Step Two: don't sleep

Result: lose weight and have bloodshot eyes

you too can be just like me. it would be nice to have company in the middle of the night when all the sensible people are fast asleep...


















Picture: Edward Gorey

Work for the China Project

Delivery Device: Mount Olympus

Satin ribbon, sterling silver, 18c dental gold

I had a lot of trouble naming this piece. There were so many words involved.

Delivery Device: Mount Olympus is a device for a cataclysmic delivery of a stream or collection of thoughts, emotions and ideas about a particular situation.

In the interest of decorum, not naming names, let’s call it Mount Olympus (there were a few of the gods involved after all).

Should an unlucky person be pricked with the pin, they would receive in a nanosecond - a heart beat - the blink of an eye, Mount Olympus.

Once the skin of The Unfortunate has been pierced, the knowledge of my Mount Olympus spreads like a virus through the body, the consequences and manifestations of which are currently unknown.

But….

Woe is the man who knew too much!

(photo by Barry Langrishe)

T minus 4 days

I HATE WRITING PROPOSALS

China Project

i have been taking alot of pictures of myself recently.... hmm... i really should be writing my proposal....

long lost cousin

current work: a piece made out of old junk jewellery belonging to my cousin lyn. i'll post some pictures of her wearing it as soon as i drag her into the studio.

i hate writing proposals. I HATE IT

a very armanious easter

me, my two cousins sarah and kathrine, and my brother luke. clearly, none of us can sit still...

the princess and the pea

these scratches are what happens when you were a 300 g necklace 24 hours a day for months on end. actually, come to think of it, it could probably be a lot worse...

and this is my dad. i thought i'd just throw him in for good measure...

and now ladies and gentlemen...

current work

if you go into the woods today...

lately, my eyes have been sore, so i've stopped wearing my contact lenses. usually, i always wear them, without them, i can't see a thing. i've worn contacts for maybe eight years now. but today, with my sore eyes, i can't. i've been wandering around my house without my glasses either, just to see what the real world is like. i mean, i know what the real world is like, because with my contacts or my glasses i can see it. but this other world, this other, just-as-real world, where everything is far away and blurry, and all the colours seem to have no boundaries is where i am now. it makes me feel disconnected, like i'm alone in a world of shapes that i don't understand. i'm typing, but i can't see the words on the screen. i don't like to be without my contacts because i feel so vulnerable, as though any one of these blurry, bleeding shapes could just out and attack me. sometimes i just sit here in my disconnectedness. being alone. waiting for the assault. i'd like to think that the world with my glasses is the real world, but there's real and there's real. the truth is, i've been running from it for a long time, the real world, or at least my Real World, is one where all the colours bleed into each other, and things can jump out and catch you unawares. the truth is, with or without these little panes of glass, i'll never see it coming, whatever it is.

pattern against user- the numerical ramblings of a non-mathematician

1 2 1 3 1 4 1 5
2 1 2 3 2 4 2 5
3 2 3 1 3 4 3 5
4 3 4 2 4 1 4 5
5 4 5 3 5 2 5 1

article smarticle

a cool article written by my friend Vivian Sparado (hi viv!) for the Jewellers and Metalsmiths Group of Australia (JMGA)

Recently showcased in her solo exhibition
Vices & Devices, Elizabeth Armanious’
work spans themes and materiality, evident from her student days at the Design Centre, Enmore (2001-2003) through to her current undertaking of a Masters degree at the Sydney College of Arts in 2006.

The Vices & Devices displayed in the Gaffa space, in early August came alive on the opening night with each finely crafted implement and executed form, becoming animated and deliciously dramatised!
Being spot lit better facilitated the contrasts and shadow play, revealing the subtle depths in dimension, suspension and the embedded memory within the materials.

Machinations of Flesh
Undoubtedly, one of the standout pieces in the show and a result of current investigation is the LoveSick Blade. A departure from the more intimate hand-held devices of surgical (physical/psychological “wounding to heal”), optical (enlarging the telescopic/world view) or medicinal (storage/dispensing aids) orientation, the sword is a more extroverted tool- the ultimate in self-preservation and exploration.
Comprised of a gazelle’s antler, pewter and hemp, the blade itself is of a 1,000 lamination hand forged steel; a process known as Tamahagane.


LoveSick Blade and Wound Probe (ten seconds of a hear beat)

To create tamahagane, this traditional Japanese samurai steel sword technique, Elizabeth has been studying with Mike Petersen, a master swordsmith who helped impart some of his expertise over a week of “talking and living steel” at his studio in Candelo, NSW. As Elizabeth explained, the perception and precision necessary to produce quality tamahagane requires keeping vigil over the furnace and found the experience rewarding, in developing a “sensitivity to the time involved” and “to have that dialogue with the fundamental of steel is amazing!”

Armanious feels that the LoveSick Blade, along with the works, Pseudo-Medico (My Father’s Daughter) and Why a Raven is like a Writing Desk hold the future directions of pursuit.
It’s interesting to note the ‘grain’ of the steel is more pronounced when oxidised, so the choice to honour the materiality takes precedence over aesthetic choices such as polishing. “I don’t approve of polishing, it’s like denying the activity or erasing the memory”

LoveSick Blade (Tamahagane detail)

Tales from the Great Subconscious
Material memory is also evident in the work Little Black Pills, a demonstrative display of some finished graphite ‘pills’, the pill press that created them and a serving spoon. The hand-held device, which extrudes smooth, graphite capsules was a challenge to make in itself, but the process enjoyed. Aside from the created material forms are the employment of found objects, such as biological specimens and wooden shelf units which encase, protect and invite the viewer to inspect, consume and explore the intimacy of these illicit microcosms.
Enticing, seductive, elusive … but macabre? Not necessarily, though this has been
a question posed to Armanious this year regarding her work, to which she replies,

“I don’t think it is but I’m worried it could be taken that way.

I think it’s really fascinating- amazed that the body works.

‘Macabre things’ have actually helped people”

Little Black Pills (Dr. Armanious’ Little Black Pills, Pill Press, Spoon)

It is this last statement that is more revealing of her conceptual creative impetus, when we consider her early environment. As the Armanious family resided above her father’s dental practice, the “surgery was my home”. While most of us grew up with things like ‘MagnaDoodle’ magnetic boards you could draw upon then magically erase, Elizabeth had access to more articulated specialist items. Understanding the power of these ritualistic implements and the redemptive processes they underwent.
The Autoclave, a steaming machine that sterilises the steel dental tools, held special fascination as they allowed “these tools to go from one patient to another …

they can penetrate; go inside”. As she further explains, the purpose of these implements “is to open (up) this gateway” and that “past the point of pain, we can better understand ourselves”. For Armanious had learnt early, that it is through healing we can better understand ourselves - the cyclical nature of life and death, growth and decay. As well, this would’ve helped galvanise the devotion and skills necessary, to master and enact these esteemed roles and procedures. From this vantage point, we can better appreciate the finished works, not least for the dedicated duration involved, both in the skill acquisition and with each execution.

Working alone from her studio in St. Peters, established during her Enmore days, suits the motivated and disciplined Armanious, who has produced notable works from the beginning. She has been a finalist, both in 2001 (The Infraction Shackle) and 2003 (Ring for Introspection) for the TAFE NSW Arts & Design Prize. Her early engagement with saw piercing, such as The Infraction Shackle was a way of etching memory onto a metal surface. We can see the evolving narrative here, as the dialogue has become more intrinsically invested within the materiality.
The Ring for Introspection, of which was also part of the Vices & Devices exhibition
sits right at home amongst the more recent items. In fact the memory and the inquiring is ever unfurling and very much in the fullness of its continuum.


The Lithographic Woman (Tool for Dermography, Monocle)

Bellerophon and the Chimera

so this was one of my essays from uni last year on phenomenology. when i handed it in, it was printed on transparent paper, concealing and revealing. i threw in a few photos of related work from the grad show. enjoy....

LoveSick (Bellerophon & the Chimera)

A Phenomenological Journey

E.Armanious


“I will cover you with wax and light your hair like a wick when the night is too cold”


( Xiu Xiu, Wig Master)


Phenomenology is an overwhelmingly practical theory, and as artists, it relates directly to not only our work and our ideas, but also to our bodies, to the very essence of what makes us the artists that we are. Through phenomenology we gain a deeper understanding of the language of our artist’s body, and an understanding of the technology and tools we add to ourselves to articulate our abstract ideas. The following discussion will elaborate on Heidegger’s ready-to-hand/present-to-hand, and revealing and concealing theories by tracing phenomenology in practice through a work titled LoveSick.

“The Painter Lives in Fascination. The actions most proper to him – those gestures, those paths which he alone can trace and which will be revelations to others (because the others do not lack what he lacks or in the same way ) – to him they seem to emanate from the things themselves, like the patterns of the constellations.” [1]

The forging and construction of LoveSick very much mirrored its inspiration, a path that I alone can trace, a dialogue and a relationship steeped in both the abstract and the physical, in both revealing and concealing. LoveSick (and love sick) is a state of dichotomy, feelings for the object of love become confused, and what is usually translated into physical affection, somehow loses its way in violence. In this particular case, the object of love was an idea that became imposed upon a person, he was more fiction than non-fiction, but in his fictitiousness, he became real. In the interests of decorum, let’s call him the Chimera. My greatest and arguably most fortunately unachieved desire was to measure my love sickness for the Chimera. In my mind, this required putting the Chimera in as much pain as possible, not to see how much he could bear, but how much I could. LoveSick is a functional blade designed to penetrate the object of love, with a hilt made of a single Gazelle antler (which refers back to the violence of sexual possession). The depth of the wound is measured with the Wound Probe made from dental gold and hypodermic steel, each unit of which is one heart beat in ten seconds (just enough time to complete the task).

The construction of LoveSick was to a certain extent a violent one. The hours spent standing in front of a 2000 degree forge, the long swing of the hammer, the inevitable accidents which included burns, bruises and blisters was cathartic in a sense, the built up affection/aggression towards the Chimera was safely expelled bashing billets of hot steel. The revealing and concealing nature of my relationship with the Chimera is also reflected in LoveSick, as within it I have admitted to my most violent fantasies, but also concealed them within the framework of ‘art’ and placed it safely behind glass where it can not be used on any previous, current, or future Chimeras.

When I first started thinking about LoveSick and about the very personal and revealing nature of the piece, I hated the thought of carving it out of a stainless steel blank. This relationship, in all its complexity, was something hand made, something metaphorically forged in fire, so LoveSick itself also had to be something hand made, something directly afected by my body and my ideas. This lead me to Mike Petersen, a master blade smith living in rural NSW.

My first night at Mike’s, I followed the bearded giant through the bushes to the camp site. I was wearing a long skirt that caught on every snag, a fur coat and my grandmother’s diamonds. ‘Out of place’ was definitely a phrase that came to mind. The next day however, I was in someone else’s old army pants and we were down in the workshop. I watched, listened, and tried to stay out of the way of the molten steel projectiles. At the time, what I was watching was a technique, a methodology, but what I actually saw was a fluidity that flowed between a body, technology and the material.

The process of making LoveSick was slow and hard; it involved learning a technique that was not only unknown to me, but unknown to most Australian craftspeople, and with little practice on other pieces, I put this technique into practice on what was to be both the first and the final piece of Tamahagane steel for my exhibition. There was little room for error, which meant that each and every step of its construction required as much concentration and focus as I could manage. The total of one and a half weeks at Petersen’s was spent down in the workshop, listening, learning, practicing and occasionally throwing tantrums.

Watching Mike work the billets[2], I realized that he saw things in the metal that I could not. He saw the blade within the metal as Michelangelo saw the form within the stone; it was simply a matter of careful liberation[3]. For the most part however, I was blind to this, and in a sense, after spending so much time working with Mike in the little studio at the bottom of the hill, I almost became the ready-to-hand technology. He knew just what to say and when to say it, so that I would direct my hammer blows or file strokes at just the right time and in just the right place to allow the blade to take shape. It was a complex little relationship we had with our materials, our tools and each other, as my tools evolved from present-to-hand technology to ready-to-hand technology[4], I myself evolved from a present-to-hand girl in a fur coat and diamonds, to a ready-to-hand apprentice, watching, waiting, trusting and ready for direction.

The blade itself was never really designed, there were no plan drawings, no measurements, no strict dimensions, but rather by the process of forging and the open connection between the brain and the hand, the blade evolved into what the Japanese blade smiths call a ‘Live’[5] blade. In much the same way as Picasso “affirmed again and again the physicality of painting”[6], so this blade became what it is through a dialogue between the inseparable abstract conceptualism and actual physicality, “an intertwining of vision and movement”[7]. In turn, it also became a dialogue between the maker and the metal, in a sense, steel demands a certain level of respect, it can not be forced or pressured into shape, rather the maker (in particular the apprentice maker) must be constantly ‘listening’ to the metal, humbly waiting for the right moment and temperature to strike, gently letting it cool down or heat up. Steel demands both respect and attention. to treat it badly, to not watch for its subtle symbols will result in one or more of the myriad of failures possible. Thus the significance and importance of the tools and technology being ready-to-hand and not present-to-hand is paramount. Each hammer blow has a permanent effect on the metal on a molecular level, thus each blow must be well placed and well timed.

In turn, I feel that the same care must be taken to make ones tools ready-to-hand as is taken to choose which tools or technology are used. In a sense, the artist, and the artists ideas are influenced by their arsenal of technology, whether that be the hammer and tongs, the brush, the pencil, or any number of the countless other possibilities. The artist speaks a particular language in their work, and as an artist, one must be conscious of this physical language. As Husserl states when discussing Galileo, “culturally acquired ideas can become part of one’s ‘natural attitude’ through the addition of technology to the body”[8], and one must be aware of what technology we extending our body with and what kind of ‘cyborg’ we may become. For my part, having the hammer and tongs in my arsenal, being able to manipulate the blocks of red hot steel with technology that will (hopefully) eventually become an extension of my body, is a valuable and desirable skill.

With this arsenal, the artist translates certain ‘truths’ into the language of art, and through this revealing of truth, there is also a concealing, “the two together constitute the full nature of Truth”[9] which is called ‘the Mystery’ by Heidegger. In my own work, I often find myself writing my most personal or truthful thoughts backwards on the page. As difficult as it is to read, the purpose on an unconscious level perhaps, is the act of writing, not reading. The same can be said not only for my notes and diary entries, but also for my work. In articulating the very personal and intimate desires in LoveSick, by bringing them into the real world and making them into a real piece of art, they have also been concealed in this same piece of art. Without the security and concealment of the articulated work, the unconcealed ideas would remain concealed by their unrealized articulation. “Concealing itself is not mere closing itself up but, as Heidegger says, a sheltering and guarding, in which the possibility of emerging into light is essentially preserved, in which such emergence belongs. ‘Self- concealment guarantees to self-disclosure its essence’”[10].

This is particularly true of another piece I have been working on titled ‘What colour are your thoughts, Apollo?’, which has grown to a length of almost twelve meters and is growing longer by the day. ‘Apollo’ is a collection small lengths of red satin ribbon with thoughts written on them, and then tied together. Each thought is in itself exposing, and in that sense difficult to write, however, by the sheer multitude of secrets included in ‘Apollo’, each single one becomes lost. ‘Apollo’ is revealing in the particular, but concealing as a whole. In one sense, it has been a hard piece to work on, because each length of ribbon holds something secret and precious to me, and yet I feel that the present secret, the one I am actually writing at the time of writing, could never be found in amongst all these other past and future secrets, and in that is a sense of obscurity. Thus in the presentation of this essay I have tried to convey the idea that as a whole, each single phrase is obliterated and concealed by the act of revealing, but when read, each phrase is in itself revealing.

When I started attending lectures on phenomenology I wrote all my notes backwards, I didn’t really think about why, it just felt like the right thing to do, so as a particularly self-indulgent person, I indulged myself and am left with almost unreadable notes. It was only nearing the end of the course that I discovered why I felt this urge. “Sheltering belongs to the essential unfolding of truth… the clearing must ground itself in what is open within it. It requires that which it contains in openness, and that is a being, different in each case (thing – equipment – work). But this sheltering of what is open must also and in advance be such that openness comes into beings in such a way that self-concealment, and thereby Being, essentially unfolds it.”[11] Through phenomenology, I have not only discovered the intimate connection between the mind, the body and the work, which makes my makers experience so much more significant, but also this idea of revealing and concealing. In my own, very simple way, I have realized that in an effort to reveal something in my work or in my writing, I have also simultaneously concealed it. My notes in class were written backwards because I felt such a connection with the ideas that were being discussed. I both revealed and concealed my connection to phenomenology before I fully understood Heidegger’s theories. LoveSick, ‘Apollo’, and my notes in class are all examples of an artist’s phenomenological journey and the realization that through our truthfulness to our concepts, materials, processes, and ideas, that truthfulness is as much comfortingly concealing as painfully revealing.


“True I’ve cried too much; I am heart sick at dawn.
The moon is better and the sun is sour…
Love burns me; I am swollen and slow.
Let my keel break! Oh, let me sink into the sea!”[12]

Bibliography



Bloom, Allan, ed. Introduction to the Reading of Hegel. United States of America: Agora Paperback Editions, 1993.
Heidegger, Martin. The Essence of Truth; on Plato's Cave Allegory and Theaetetus. Translated by Ted Sadler. New York: Continuum, 2002.
———. On Time and Being. Translated by Joan Stambaugh. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1972.
Kockelmans, Joseph J. Heidegger on Art and Art Works. Dordrecht: Martinus Nijhoff Publishers, 1985.
Macomber, W. B. The Anatomy of Disillusion; Martin Heidegger's Notion of Truth. Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1967.
Matthews, Eric. Merleau-Ponty; a Guide for the Perplexed. London
New York: Continuum, 2006.
Mehta, J. L. The Philosophy of Martin Heidegger. New York: Harper and Row, 1971.
Polt, Richard. Heidegger; an Introduction. New York: Cornell University Press, 1999.
Rimbaud, Auther. Complete Works. Translated by Paul Schmidt. New York: Perennial Classics, 1976.

Sanders, Kerry. Phenomenology Readers
[1] Kerry Sanders, Merleau-Ponty Reader,
[2] the block of raw steel from with the Tamahagane steel is made
[3] Kerry Sanders, Hegel Reader
[4] Kerry Sanders, Heidegger Reader
[5] Which is to say forged from a single billet as opposed to carved out of a ready made piece of steel
[6] Kerry Sanders, Husserl Reader
[7] Kerry Sanders, Merleau-Ponty Reader
[8] Kerry Sanders, Husserl Reader
[9] Mehta p. 231
[10] Mehta p.232
[11] Polt p.149
[12] Rimbaud p.139 (The Drunken Boat)

summer holidays

i'm not really sure why i'm doing this. blogs... i mean, what are they really? what could i really say that is worth broadcasting across the internet? well, not much probably, but hey, i'm no stranger to self indulgent, narcissistic monologues.
so here we are then, broadcasting self indulgent, narcissistic monologues across the internet.
ummm... i think i'll write more later.