FUSE Glass Artist Residency

Then the squashed
and densified and
compressed and
rounded mirroring of
Marcel’s work pings
by Robert Cook
As usual I start to type and find I can’t
read my notes. Tiny little spider writing. In
mechanical pencil. Lines connecting half
sentences. They are not ‘helpful’. None of it is
‘helpful’. I wonder, though: were they meant to
be? If I take it that there is an unconscious, I
could interpret myself as fashioning a teasing
tangle of responses and echoes to Marcel’s
words and work that undoes my capacity to
be a transparent medium. Of course, I hate
this about myself. The insertion thing. My
galumphing presence; I so want to overcome
my grotesque need to be visible, or audible,
whatever it is. Weirdly though, it’s not just
manners. Isn’t there a sneaky little trajectory
that is in fact a not-so-little not-so-sneaky
trajectory of dudes being hidden and
occupying stances of neutrality that aren’t
that? That guide and guard and shape and
shade so that their power (look how I
distance myself here, their) is hidden,
naturalised. Neutralised in a way that’s
anything but.
Previous page: Cosmic Wiggle Cluster, 2023
blown and mirrored glass, acrylic paint. Photo: Pippy Mount
Trace No. 6, 2023
blown and mirrored glass. Photo: Pippy Mount
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