After being packed in boxes for 18 months, the bras are hanging in the exhibition space, the songs I wrote are playing into the air around them. The work was finished, the installation complete.
But actually… there could be more.
I hang the bras in a certain formation, in small groups, or a couple individually, in a certain way, and they talk to each other. They all now have distinct characters, and I have their back-stories in my head.
The conversations I have had about the work with gallery visitors, and workshop participants has opened up the dialogue though. There are other women, other stories, ideas for other songs. The configuration of these women is currently, pardon the pun, quite uplifting. I genuinely feel there is a positive vibe going on, and if you’ll pardon another pun, an element of triumph. There is scope here, perhaps, for the dark(er) side. I have affection for these nine. But there are women in the world who do not leave you feeling good. I think, when I made the work, I needed the positivity. I needed to feel hopeful. There might be room then, given that little bit of distance, to be more honest, to poke at the truth that sometimes, we women do ourselves no favours. I think there is room in this installation for a little reality, balance… I could get a bit nasty. I am stronger now than I was when I started. The world view has changed. There is a battle going on. I think therefore, this installation, with a little tweaking, and a couple of additions, could get more political. It could become a protest.
I could push it more.
I am also looking at myself with a little strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. Have I at last identified my own comfort blanket? Am I at last able to be a little more objective and critical (given a little time) about my own work? If this is the case, Bo will be proud!