Cornford & Cross are presently artists in residence
at the London School of Economics
(concurrently with artist Cleo Broda). We met
them to find out what it was like to work as
artists in that environment and to ask why such
an institution would want artists working within
it. We didn't learn the answer to these questions,
but the conversation was interesting, as
was their work. The following is an extract from
our conversation:
David Cross: A common thread in our work is
the production of an object or a physical element
added to a space. While that is genuinely
the aim, we co-opt the process of realising the
object or intervention into the project itself, so
that what would otherwise be seen as practical
or everyday activities gain a degree of symbolic
significance.
We've often been surprised by the extent to
which people are willing to take part.
'Jerusalem', our project for East and riverside
in 1999, was in some way a calculated affront,
like an aggressive move on a chessboard.
Although we only once met the headmaster of
this typically hierarchical public school, we had
a number of meetings with the School artmaster.
As part of our involvement we gave a talk
about the project and our practice to the boys
of the upper fifth and lower sixth forms. When
we finished the talk, there was complete
silence. Finally the artmaster pointed to one of
the boys and said 'come on, question'. The
pupil duly responded by asking us, 'Where do
you get your money'? We explained that we
earn some money through lecturing, commission
fees, sponsorship, and occasionally sales,
but neither of us is wealthy. Once they could
place us economically, the boys seemed able
to interact with us more openly, and the questions
flowed.
4.28: So the artist was just this unknown thing
in an upper class boys school?
David: Yeah, exactly. The artist as an unknown
quantity. It was this system that we were
engaging with, about how power is exercised,
and how certain people are prepared through
education for exercising power in later life.
4.28: How did you finance this particular project?
Matthew Cornford: Oh, that was a mixture:
the Norwich gallery, our commissioners, had
money for a modest fee and production budget
from the Henry Moore Foundation. We added
to our allocation with university research funding
as we both lecture at universities. As
research-active members of staff we apply to
the committees there for support funding. Once
we've got that under way we quite often use
the status and the publicity attached to the
project to attract sponsorship from the businesses
we interact with. So it's a kind of three
way formula: partly education, partly the art
sector and partly business.
4.28: How about at the LSE...you have this big
residency at the London School of Economics...
David: Yeah, enormous...(laugh)
Matthew: It has been interesting, though quite
difficult to know what we were going to do -
partly because our previous projects have
been quite critical of the 'host' institution. But
here, the more we find out about the LSE, the
more time we spend here, the better it is. It's a
very innovative, liberal environment.
David: The diversity impressed us enormously
as much with the buildings, as the activities
going on inside.
4.28: So how do you propose to respond?
David: In our proposal for the LSE, one aim is
to stage a public spectacle or display. I'm interested
in how representations of mountains and
climbing may speak to the individualist,
whether lone hero venture capitalist, or principled
risk-taker. Sometimes climbers work on oil
rigs or in the construction industry, sometimes
climbing is a leisure pursuit. And then there is
another category of climber, the transgressor
making a demonstration, maybe against the
World Trade Organisation or a multinational
corporation. So climbing has something both
aspirational and transgressive about it. The
language and imagery of climbing are often
used in business and economics, perhaps suggesting
the idea of a company reaching the
peaks of success, or competing on an upward
slope.
Matthew: When you look at the graphic representation
of stock market activity, there is an
echo, if you like, of a mountain range. We
The picture as index of lived experience
thought it would be interesting within the timeframe
of the Year of the Artist to take a graph
of the UK share index and to render it as a fantasy
mountain landscape. We like the idea of a
frieze on the face of the building, a large scale
gesture, which would feature mountains on the
side of a building owned by the London School
of Economics.
4.28: So your project for the LSE is pretty
much developed then?
Matthew: We are coming to the stage where
we present our thinking to various committees.
We're looking at ways of creating a spectacle
as well as leaving a semi-permanent piece of
work, but also - as we do always - we would
document this photographically, which will then
be presented as something with a very 'clean'
sort of distance.
David: The relation of photographic realism to
'reality' is central to the concept in this project.
In our past works we have produced installations
by imposing static objects on particular
spaces. We plan each installation from the outset
in terms of the photographic possibilities,
so the final image is as much a construction as
our physical intervention in the scene it depicts.
Matthew: Actually, I don't think 'document' is
the right word; it evokes a notion of photographic
truth, whereas we set up a situation in
order to make photographs. We recently
showed a large colour photograph of
'Jerusalem' in a touring show of politically
engaged art practice. We hope that on reading
our text accompanying the image, people
would be aware of the narratives which led to
the construction of the statue.
4.28: You are focusing on the photography,
which represents the object in an art context,
and you wouldn't describe it only as documentation.
Are you setting all that up to just get the
photograph? Or let's start the other way round.
Would you say that the statue or even the photography
is a sort of a leftover of the work, or
where actually do you locate the work'
David: Very interesting; your question calls to
mind Robert Smithson's Displacements, which
opened up the problem of site and non-site...
Often the physical elements of our work dissipate
after the project is over, we return the
materials to the people who provided them. So
in a way the works are temporary cultural articulations
of economic material. And all that
remains is the photograph, like a conceptual
document in that sense. So did the work only
exist in that moment or does it exist as the
photograph which we planned from the outset?
In the news media it's clear that the presence
of cameramen or photographers influences the
course of events. Whether these involve terrorists
or environmentalist protesters or whoever,
the behaviour changes. There is no position of
a neutral event separate from the mediation of
it. This relationship between representation and
the flow of events is what we consciously
engage with.
4.28: Would it make a difference then to say:
you are staging an action to get these photos,
or would it make a difference, if the landscape
in the photo would not be the school in
Norwich? Just any meadow, a building and a
statue, just made for the photo?
Both: Yeah, it would make a difference.
Matthew: There are several differences. We
could have made a similar image, with a fake
statue made of fibreglass instead of spent bullet
lead on a plinth of stone from Caen in
Normandy. Or, more easily still, most of our
projects could be done digitally, in the way that
Jeff Wall or Andreas Gursky work. But the
social engagement would be completely absent
from the work.
David: We trade on the notion of a documentary
image, which relies on the concept of an
indexical relationship between the image and
some kind of lived experience. We want to
say: we were there, we did that. Partly
because we enjoy getting involved with those
places, institutions and people, but also partly
because the resulting image is imbued with a
different kind of significance.
Matthew: We live in an age where so much of
what you see is digital 'perfection'. We aim for
perfection and fall short.
David: It's not simply accepting the imperfection
of the image, it is about embracing the risk
of the event. In a way, it's about an interplay of
order and chaos.