My investigation began by observing a bench in Wimbledon Common. I noticed that some benches had memorial plaques, even though people used them for everyday activities such as reading, smoking and talking. I was unfamiliar with this tradition because I had not seen it in Korea. I found it interesting that a bench could be both a place for everyday activities and a place for remembering someone. This made me wonder what would happen if a memorial plaque displayed an ordinary thought from someone’s day instead of a traditional memorial message.
I approached seven strangers who were sitting on the bench I had been investigating. Following my own rules, I asked each person to write continuously for five minutes without editing, then underline one sentence to leave behind. I did not know what they would write, and I was surprised by the variety of sentences I collected. Some were unexpectedly poetic, while others were very simple. I engraved the seven selected sentences onto individual metal plaques. My intended audience consisted of seven people, including my tutor and fellow students, so I wanted each viewer to be able to focus on one plaque. I displayed the plaques alongside the original handwritten texts on an empty chair.
I connected Vilém Flusser’s Does Writing Have a Future? (2011) to my investigation through form. In the chapter ‘Print’, Flusser discusses writing as a way of making traces, explaining how typos and graphein relate to traces and engraving (Flusser, 2011, pp. 47–48). He also distinguishes a unique handwritten manuscript from repeatable printed writing (Flusser, 2011, p. 51). This made me think about how the same words could feel different depending on their physical form. The handwritten texts were personal traces of a particular moment, while the engraved plaques gave the sentences a more permanent appearance. What interested me most was the contrast between ordinary words and the serious appearance of memorial plaques. If I had simply printed these sentences on paper, I might not have considered them as important.
I connected Barbara Bolt’s ‘The Magic is in the Handling’ (2019) to my investigation through process. Bolt discusses how artists can develop new understanding through making, experimenting and working directly with materials, rather than simply following an existing idea (Bolt, 2019, pp. 27–34). This relates to how my project developed. I began by observing a bench, but my questions changed as I collected writing and made the plaques. I could not predict what the strangers would write or how the sentences would look when engraved. Through these experiments, I discovered something I had not expected at the beginning.
These two readings helped me understand writing as both a physical trace and an experimental process. My project made me question how ordinary, temporary thoughts might become something that other people stop to read and remember.
I approached seven strangers who were sitting on the bench I had been investigating. Following my own rules, I asked each person to write continuously for five minutes without editing, then underline one sentence to leave behind. I did not know what they would write, and I was surprised by the variety of sentences I collected. Some were unexpectedly poetic, while others were very simple. I engraved the seven selected sentences onto individual metal plaques. My intended audience consisted of seven people, including my tutor and fellow students, so I wanted each viewer to be able to focus on one plaque. I displayed the plaques alongside the original handwritten texts on an empty chair.
I connected Vilém Flusser’s Does Writing Have a Future? (2011) to my investigation through form. In the chapter ‘Print’, Flusser discusses writing as a way of making traces, explaining how typos and graphein relate to traces and engraving (Flusser, 2011, pp. 47–48). He also distinguishes a unique handwritten manuscript from repeatable printed writing (Flusser, 2011, p. 51). This made me think about how the same words could feel different depending on their physical form. The handwritten texts were personal traces of a particular moment, while the engraved plaques gave the sentences a more permanent appearance. What interested me most was the contrast between ordinary words and the serious appearance of memorial plaques. If I had simply printed these sentences on paper, I might not have considered them as important.
I connected Barbara Bolt’s ‘The Magic is in the Handling’ (2019) to my investigation through process. Bolt discusses how artists can develop new understanding through making, experimenting and working directly with materials, rather than simply following an existing idea (Bolt, 2019, pp. 27–34). This relates to how my project developed. I began by observing a bench, but my questions changed as I collected writing and made the plaques. I could not predict what the strangers would write or how the sentences would look when engraved. Through these experiments, I discovered something I had not expected at the beginning.
These two readings helped me understand writing as both a physical trace and an experimental process. My project made me question how ordinary, temporary thoughts might become something that other people stop to read and remember.
Bolt, B. (2019) ‘The magic is in the handling’, in Barrett, E. and Bolt, B. (eds.) Practice as research: Approaches to creative arts enquiry. London: I.B. Tauris, pp. 27–34.
Flusser, V. (2011) Does writing have a future? Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. pp. 47–54
I approached seven strangers who were sitting on the bench I had been investigating. Following my own rules, I asked each person to write continuously for five minutes without editing, then underline one sentence to leave behind. I did not know what they would write, and I was surprised by the variety of sentences I collected. Some were unexpectedly poetic, while others were very simple. I engraved the seven selected sentences onto individual metal plaques. My intended audience was seven people, including my tutor and fellow students, so I wanted each person to be able to focus on one plaque. I displayed the plaques alongside the original handwritten texts on an empty chair.
I connected Vilém Flusser’s Does Writing Have a Future? (2011) to my investigation through form. In the chapter “Print”, Flusser discusses writing as a way of making traces, explaining how typos and graphein relate to traces and engraving (Flusser, 2011, pp. 47–48). He also distinguishes a unique handwritten manuscript from repeatable printed writing (Flusser, 2011, p. 51). This made me think about how the same words could feel different depending on their physical form. The handwritten texts were personal traces of a particular moment, while the engraved plaques gave the sentences a more permanent appearance. What interested me most was the contrast between ordinary words and the serious appearance of memorial plaques. If I had simply printed these sentences on paper, I might not have considered them as important.
I connected Barbara Bolt’s The Magic is in Handling through process. Bolt discusses how artists can develop new understanding through making, experimenting and working directly with materials, rather than simply following an existing idea. This relates to how my project developed. I began by observing a bench, but my questions changed as I collected writing and made the plaques. I could not predict what the strangers would write or how the sentences would look when engraved. Through these experiments, I discovered something I had not expected at the beginning.
These two readings helped me understand writing as both a physical trace and an experimental process. My project made me question how ordinary, temporary thoughts might become something that other people stop to read and remember.
I approached seven strangers who were sitting on the bench I had been investigating. Following my own rules, I asked each person to write continuously for five minutes without editing, then underline one sentence to leave behind. I did not know what they would write, and I was surprised by the variety of sentences I collected. Some were unexpectedly poetic, while others were very simple. I engraved the seven selected sentences onto individual metal plaques. My intended audience was seven people, including my tutor and fellow students, so I wanted each person to be able to focus on one plaque. I displayed the plaques alongside the original handwritten texts on an empty chair.
I connected Vilém Flusser’s Does Writing Have a Future? (2011) to my investigation through form. In the chapter “Print”, Flusser discusses writing as a way of making traces, explaining how typos and graphein relate to traces and engraving (Flusser, 2011, pp. 47–48). He also distinguishes a unique handwritten manuscript from repeatable printed writing (Flusser, 2011, p. 51). This made me think about how the same words could feel different depending on their physical form. The handwritten texts were personal traces of a particular moment, while the engraved plaques gave the sentences a more permanent appearance. What interested me most was the contrast between ordinary words and the serious appearance of memorial plaques. If I had simply printed these sentences on paper, I might not have considered them as important.
I connected Barbara Bolt’s The Magic is in Handling through process. Bolt discusses how artists can develop new understanding through making, experimenting and working directly with materials, rather than simply following an existing idea. This relates to how my project developed. I began by observing a bench, but my questions changed as I collected writing and made the plaques. I could not predict what the strangers would write or how the sentences would look when engraved. Through these experiments, I discovered something I had not expected at the beginning.
These two readings helped me understand writing as both a physical trace and an experimental process. My project made me question how ordinary, temporary thoughts might become something that other people stop to read and remember.