Sunday, April 6, 2014

LEARNING BY TEACHING



I am teaching an introductory subject in the first year of a Masters of Art Therapy with another art therapist.  (Maybe why my blog has suffered) The class has twenty four eager students intent on learning about the untapped potential of creativity in healing. Last Tuesday was the first lecture and the class began with artmaking.  "Create a piece of work that you can use to introduce your inner artist."  Materials that were available included paper, pastels, paint, tape, pencils, clay and wire.  When it came time to share 12 out of 24 had chosen three dimensional art forms.  (Now that's exciting!)

In asking them about this they said a number of things:
  • I like to use my hands more
  • Its about touch
  • It relates to the inside and outside
  • It depends on the materials - I engage more with clay but less with metal (in regards to sculpture)
  • Installations are three dimensional
  • I use two and three dimensional artmaking at different times

In preparing for next weeks class I was reading about the triangular relationship in art therapy and the psychodynamic approach to images and revisited a description of art images as being diagrammatic or embodied by Joy Schaverien.  I was wondering:
is this description relevant to children who are often more embodied than adults?
Is it more of a continuum where images can be a bit of both?
When have my clients created embodied artworks?
Is it a concept that is less relevant as we have developed as a profession?
Do I think any of the artworks born in my presence are not embodied?


Here is a look at the descriptions by Joy Schaverien:

DIAGRAMMATIC IMAGES

• Conscious form of communication usually following words or thoughts
• Client may be uncomfortable with materials or artistic process
• May convey feeling but viewer does not experience the feeling
• The image does NOT transform the artist.
• Minimal emotional investment
• Illustrates feeling but does not embody it

EMBODIED IMAGE

• Client feels safe and held within therapeutic encounter
• Image begins to lead – artmaking takes over and intent may change
• It embodies the absorption of maker and the ‘live’ relationship with viewer
• It reverberates in the unconscious of both artist and maker
• Conveys a feeling state that is beyond words
• All points of the triangle are activated ie artist, therapist and image

As I was packing my clothes for the long weekend, it hit me.  Are three dimensional objects more embodied?  Is there a type of scale where the interplay between three dimensionality and materials creates opportunities for more embodied artmaking.....this thought came in the early hours as I was surrounded by suitcases, food for 12 people, animals and tonight's dishes.  I just had to write it down before it slipped away.

I am enjoying the learning that is involved in teaching......

TEARS OF AUTHENTICITY


Tonight my normally stoic, competent daughter sat down beside me and said she would like to try yoga.  I had noticed that she appeared stressed over the last couple of weeks - tense, tight, rigid, holding it together.  I have asked her if she is OK - fearing that her relationship may not be going so well.  She in in Year 12 this year.  Vice captain. Guardian.
Great grades. Good student.  Motivated.  Everything is fine with the relationship. 

She sat down me and talked and I was focused on the practical aspects such as how could she manage to get to yoga when I was at work.  "I can pick you up after work if you can get to the studio from school honey."  I was only half focused on the conversation but tried to attend to her need to do yoga.  I was sitting at my computer reading and reflecting on phenomenology. I was in the zone and trying hard to stay there while still paying her some attention. After my work, study and at 10.30pm there is not much left for being focused and sensitive to my children.

I looked up from the computer and asked her if everything was OK and she started to cry.
 

 

 


I immediately focused on her.  I turned my body towards her. I immediately felt guilty that I was not more aware that she was upset. I noted that as soon as the tears started, I changed.

I felt different towards her.  Open, connected, concerned - I wanted to respond. I realised that what she was talking about was important. She was vulnerable and her tears showed me her authentic feelings. We talked and I listened to her . I sensed her pain. Was this my mirror neurons firing - feeling her pain through watching her expressions?

I noted her tears rolling down her cheeks.  I observed her body. Her shoulders were scrunched. Her hands over her face at times.  Her face was wrinkled and full of expression. She was trying to talk but finding it hard in between the tears. Her breathing was shallow interspersed with rapid inward breaths that racked her body. She averted her gaze at times. At other times she would look up at me. Pleadingly.

She needed me.

I rose to the occasion. I closed my laptop and put aside my study world.  I asked her more questions about what was happening in life. I reassured her that we were in this together. That we would sort this out together. We chatted.  I made her a hot drink.  She said she felt better just talking about her worries.  Sharing her anxiety and her fears that she would not do well in her Year 12.  She went off to bed and I offered to drive her to school the next morning so she did not have to go on the bus.  We hugged warmly.  She held me needing some of my strength.

I had lost my train of thoughts on phenomenology.  But I was taken by the tears.  The outward expression of emotion that pulled me from my study. I felt different towards her.  Warmer, connected, protective, compassionate and open. I understood why she had been withdrawn, upset, rigid and irritable in the past few weeks.  My annoyance at being interrupted was gone.

Is this why I am exploring how three dimensional artmaking can help access and work with emotions.  Is it the emotions that help me to connect with people - both my clients and my daughter.  Is it that the expression of emotions in therapy help build connection between myself and my client. That our relationship deepens through vulnerability, authenticity and tears.  That I am able to empathsize as a therapist.  I am more attuned.  And is it through the connection that the healing can happen. 

So instead of thinking about emotion emerging from the artmaking, am I interested in emotion because it builds connections and relationships between therapist and client.  In turn are we able to embark on harder work because of the trust and honesty. 

Is it that the emotion followed by the artmaking helps my clients to come up with more insights into their life issues?  Is it that the three dimensional artmaking reflects the realness of the situation - like the tears reflect the realness of the person and their pain.  Is it the effect on the therapist that is the crucial aspect of accessing and working with emotion?

Thursday, February 20, 2014

TOUCH IN ART THERAPY IS "OVER" LOOKED


I recently stumbled across an interesting book titled ‘Touching Space, Placing Touch’ by Dr Mark Paterson which was written in 2012. Dr Paterson is visiting Assistant Professor at the University of Pittsburgh.  His PhD in 2003 was in Human Geography exploring the relationship between space and touch using a phenomenological framework.  In 2006 he was on research leave in Sydney Australia writing a book titled ‘The senses of touch.’ This current book was published in 2012

In a series of edited chapters Dr Amanda Bingley has a chapter titled “Touching Space in Hurt and Healing: Exploring Experiences of Illness and Recovery through Tactile Art.”  Imagine my excitement. I devour her article. Amanda is not an art therapist but she could be.  I google her to see what has led her to this paper.  She is a lecturer in health research at the University of Lancaster in the faculty of health and medicine.  She has come from the world of cultural geography and her PhD in 2002 explored the influence of gender identity and very early infant and childhood sensory experience on the adult sensory perception of landscape.  She has an interest in homeopathy and evaluating art therapy methodologies.  Suddenly I do not feel so alone in my research interests.

She identifies herself as an outsider by emphasizing and defining a term that is integral to our language - artmaking.  There is art and artmaking in art therapy probably to delineate the process and object.  Amanda discusses the importance of artmaking – the sense of touch at the connection between skin surface and tactile art medium.  She sees this as the link between the inner self and outer world.  She quotes Lusebrink (2004) who suggests that using the tactile/haptic senses activates emotional experiences for the artist.  Amanda goes on explain that this knowledge is not really new.  Other therapists such as Klein, Winnicott and Jung recognised the power of tactile exploration  through three dimensional therapies such as sandplay (Kalff, 1980; Lowenfeld, 1979) and play therapy (Axline, 1969).  All of a sudden I want to know a lot more about Amanda Bingley.  How is it that she can not only see but sense what the field of art therapy does not?

I continue to read her chapter and I come across this quote, “An important aspect of artmaking as a therapeutic activity lies in the nature and function of touch in the physical process of exploring and expressing embodied experience through the medium of art materials.  Tactile stimulation in therapeutic art making is, however, overlooked and a gap remains in theoretical and empiricial knowledge, about its role, despite an increase in interdisciplinary literature, for example in the sociology of health and illness, social anthropology, geography and art therapy.......”(pg 72).

I sit with this for a little while and a light globe moment occurs. The profession of art therapy is like a dynasty that has bought two families together through marriage.  The art families and the therapy families.  A vast majority of art therapists are visual artists and because of this we ‘know’ the strength of art to express emotions and heal ourselves.  However as art therapists we OVERLOOK the tactile.  Of course we ‘over’ look – we are seduced by the visual.  As artists we cannot help but be infatuated by the completed art piece or the observation of the artist creating.  We are visual creatures.  Our ability to see visual possibilities is what sets us apart from other professions.  We use this to drive our creativity and our therapeutic work.  Our hands and tactile senses interpret our visual fantasies.

I did not come from the art side of the family.  I have always had a passion for the arts and created art throughout my life. However coming from a working class family, I was encouraged to use my skills to get a ‘decent’ job.  I therefore gravitated to the therapy side of the family where a ‘decent’ income was possible. Throughout my twenties and thirties I grieved a missed opportunity to express myself through art.  It was only as an adult, as my children were growing up and I was approaching midlife that I decided I had an inner artist that required release.  After a respectable career  in health (using art) with rural communities, I decided to do what had always attracted me – art therapy.  I was inviting my artist self into my adult world.  I could still earn an income but could also justify my need to create.

I have long recognised the power of artmaking in my personal development.  I have strong childhood memories of creating sculptures from household objects and using clay to sculpt very expressive figures.  My art was always disturbing to friends and families.  No one ever said they liked it.  Without encouragement, I decided that I was not an artist.  Consequently I did not go to ‘art school’.  In some ways my lack of training allows me to ‘see’ and ‘feel’ artmaking somewhat differently.

My lack of training in art seeing and looking means that I perhaps  do not ‘over’ look the tactile. I use my visual and body senses to see and feel the effects of art.  I never thought my deficits in the art world would ever lead me down an exciting path of researching the touch basis of artmaking.   Amanda is perplexed by how little discussion there is about the sensory processes  - especially touch – in the arena of therapeutic artmaking.  She acknowledges  a well established literature base that focuses on examining and applying psychoanalytic theories and measuring its effectiveness with various populations of clients.  (Perhaps the art side of the family is wanting to try and impress the therapy side of the family?)  She suggests that there is growing interest in the creative arts and neuroscience and specifically the cognitive behavioural therapeutic movement.  But specifically touch in tactile arts therapies remains unexplored.  She quotes Dr Paterson and believes that the art therapy world mirrors a cultural hierarchy of senses that places sight before touch. 

And that my friends is the topic of another blog....
 

Paterson, M & Dodge, M., 2012. Touching Space and Placing Touch. Ashgate Publishing, Surrey.

Chapter  3:  Touching space in hurt and healing: Exploring experiences of illness and recovery through tactile art. Amanda Bingley

 

Axline, V.M. 1969. Play Therapy. New York: Balantine.

Kalff, D.M. 1980. Sandplay. Boston, MA: Sigo Press.

Lowenfeld, M. 1979. The World Technique. London: Allen & Unwin.

Sunday, February 16, 2014

MONA - WHERE ART AND LIFE COLLIDE

I turned 50 a few days back.  It was a big birthday.  For months I had been preparing.  Cleaning out my studio. Cleaning out my life.  Getting ready for the second half of the journey.  As my celebration I decided to visit MONA in Hobart. We stayed in a Pavilion and booked a 5 course degustation menu for the celebratory dinner.  An absolute treat.

 


We arrived by ferry on the morning of my birthday.  My dear friend Cate and her husband Philip came with Rob and I. As the birthday girl I received a glass of champagne on the boat.


We had a coffee and croissant and then took the journey into another universe. The museum is built into a cliff and you can walk or take a lift down into the bowels of the earth. 



The Red Queen exhibition was showing.
 


The first thing I see is an installation of light globes where you can hold a sensor that registers your heart beat and the light displays the rhythm of your heart.  I have had two coffees, a champagne and I am excited about being 50 and in MONA.  My heart is beating fast.

 I walk past two table tennis tables.  One has grooves cut into it and makes a game of table tennis virtually futile.  The ball gets caught in the grooves or bounces off at crazy angles.  Cate and I play and enjoy the hilarity of this encounter.  People say we are glad you tried this as we wanted to see what happened. I note that some people do not engage despite a tempting invitation to take up a table tennis bat. Some people observe while others experience.




 We continue and I walk through a corridor of red velvet curtains to enter a gallery of confronting artworks.  Transgender people, human pain and suffering, death, sex and gunshot wounds confront me.



 
I am taking photos and listening to the commentaries. I sit down on a comfortable, lived in couch to discover I am in front of Philip Nietsche's euthanasia machine.  I feel sick as I give my approval via a laptop to be injected with a lethal injection. I experience what it must be like to make that decision.  The program tells me when the chemical enters my brain, when I will be unconscious, when my breathing stops and tells me I am dead.  Confronting art.


 

 
 
 
 

 
 
I continue to immerse myself in art that is disturbing to say the least. I feel normal here as my art often disturbs.  I am loving this space of creativity and social commentary. I continue on and find an interesting installation. The viewer is invited to pull out drawers on a wall.  Each drawer says "I love you" in a different voice.  Children, lovers, men, women with different voices and auditory tones change the emphasis and intonation on those three simple words.  I get overexcited and pull out 12 drawers and there is a cacophony of people all telling me they love me.  A narcissist's dream. I laugh and show my friend Cate.  Cate is a serious art person and is often subdued in a gallery.  I take a short film of her opening the drawers taking note of her reactions.  She is curious and smiles.  She engages with this art object. She is having fun.

Suddenly I realise that MONA focuses on giving the audience an experience through sensory engagement. While there is an adequate supply of two dimensional art, there is an abundance of three dimensional sculpture and installations.  The viewer is invited to touch.  The touch seems to invite play - even with death.

It is a gallery that appeals to our senses.  Sight, touch, sound and smell (particularly the installation called Cloaca that mimics our digestive system and creates shit.  The exhibit stinks and people do not linger here I notice).



Taste is missing however in this gallery.  Mind you there is an abundance of cafes, restaurants, bars so that you can sit in amongst art and taste gorgeous things (macarons, Vietnamese salads, coffee, alcohol are some of the things I sample). I think to myself wouldn't it be fascinating to create an art object that could be eaten.  I imagine it won't be long before someone tries it.  I wonder if the curators have thought about this sensory experience for the visitors.  Have they chosen art that deliberately engages the audience with different senses. That would be interesting to find out.

I jot down the phrase, "Reality and art are blurred here.  Life and art interact and it is hard to know where one ends and the other begins.' I ponder the wonders around me.

My phone starts to vibrate and I am jolted from the depths of my thoughts.  It is time to check in to the Walter Pavilion (as in Walter Burley Griffin the architect) and I take the lift back to the surface and consciousness....oh hell I have just turned 50. 
 
 

Monday, November 25, 2013

WHAT MADE A BEAUTIFUL DAY SO BEAUTIFUL

Pondering about the day

It's Sunday night and I am waiting for clothes to be washed for work tomorrow.  My mind wanders back to my lovely afternoon (described in the last blog). I feel content.  I think of peonies, lush green paddocks, animals, cutting flowers, sipping coffee, laughing with people, listening to the music, warm sun after days of rain, good conversation with a friend, throwing a stick for the farm's Border Collie and drooling over those doughnuts.

My senses are alive in a three dimensional world

What stands out is the sensory aspect of today.  Being on a farm and seeing lush green paddocks with black and white cows.  Bunches of big full peonies carried by smiling people. A little weatherboard church nestled in amongst towering gum trees and the surprise of a local band on a verandah of a general store.  I remember the smells of the pasture, the doughnuts, the coffee and the barbecue sausages. The feel of the breeze on my face, the warmth of the sun on my skin and patting the rough hair of the horses. I heard music, laughter, birds and conversation.  I tasted good coffee and a pork and coleslaw roll.  My senses were alive and functioning well today.  The photos tell a story of my sensory experiences.

 

My sense are alive in three dimensional art

We live in a three dimensional world where I negotiate experiences with my senses and my body.  This creates a feeling of well being and joy.  Is it any wonder that I think that creating art in three dimensions brings me closer to these same experiences?  It is the smell of the clay, the feel of the wool, the sound of the art materials being moulded, the taste of the soap that float in the air and the sight of the little piece of magic that comes from me to the outside world. 

 

Art therapy and the limits of the canvas

Why is it that there is so little research and attention paid to three dimensional art in the art therapy world?  It seems very strange to me.  It's not that art therapists do not use three dimensional art with clients but it always appears to be unworthy of attention.  At the same time it seems that  two dimensional painting, drawing and collage is the normal way to work with clients.  Three dimensional work is more like an experiment and a little unusual in the art therapy world.  It is an "add on" to the two dimensional world of painting and drawing.

Why does three dimensional art seem an "add on" to drawing rather than an intrinsic part of art expression in therapy?

Historically, paintings were useful as a form of recording.  Almost like the photos I took today.  I enjoy looking back at them as they prompt my memory of such a beautiful day.  Portraits recorded moments too.  When photography evolved, art took another turn.  No longer was it needed as a way to record people's image but could be used as a way to express emotions.  Sculpture too recorded people and moments. Like portraits they were often life like to record a moment in time - a beautiful woman or a man off to war.  They were formal.  Sculptures were on plinths and usually set higher than the viewer. While engaging they were often made from cold, resistant materials such as marble or rock and larger than the viewer- almost distant and reserved.

Limits of the canvas in art therapy

As art therapists we encourage our clients to express themselves through painting, drawings and collage.  We realise the power of using images to access the unconscious or express our joy and pain.  Why is it that we do not use sculpture to the same degree - and a means to access the unconscious or express our emotions.

WHAT A BEAUTIFUL DAY - IN A THREE DIMENSIONAL WORLD

What a beautiful day. 


I met my friend Cate in Daylesford and we ventured off together towards Spring Hill Farm between Daylesford and Kyneton.  The rain was drizzling down and we were whingeing about the rain and cold a week before summer was about to be upon us. But by the time we arrived at Spring Hill there was a tiny glimpse of blue sky.
Spring Hill Farm
We ventured through the Farm towards the Peony paddock.  For $20 we could pick 20 peonies.  It was a ten minute walk through lush green pastures to the paddock past horses and cows.
 
Lush green pastures
 
Horses saying hello to us as we meandered past
 
Black and white cows looking nice and healthy
We ventured into the glorious peony paddock where we were able to pick beautiful full blooms and some buds. 

Peonies in the paddock
 
Enjoying holding a bunch of peonies

The stylish Cate with her bunch of peonies
Beautiful full blooms
 
Soft pinks and whites

We walked back from the paddock smiling at everyone who was also carrying their bunches of flowers.  Many people were posing for photos  - visually it was a beautiful farm and the bunches of peonies made great photos. It was as if we wanted to remember this experience.  Back at the gate there is a small weatherboard church that has been restored and is glorious in its simplicity.  Wood and white décor with a few flourishes added - a bunch of peonies and a candlestick.  We wandered around chatting to a few people.  One of whom was Annie Smithers - a restauranteur - who was selling great coffee and home made doughnuts.  We opted for the coffee and gave the calorieladen dougnuts a miss - but they looked delicious.

What a gorgeous little church - so simple yet so inviting

A touch of colour with peonies in the church
 
The church from the road at the entrance to Spring Hill Peony Farm
On the way back we stopped in at the Glenlyon General Stall for some lunch where a local group of blokes were jamming on the front verandah.
Just a nice photograph of the cello case
 
Local musicians
 
Not sure what this instrument is called
 
Glenlyon stall verandah

Rob (my husband) has been away for a week and it was time to tidy the house before he arrives back tomorrow.  And just to complete the picture a huge vase of peonies on the kitchen table.
 

Bringing some of the magic of Spring Hill Peony Farm home
I love the voluptuous full blooms and the tight round buds
Some are pinker than others
 
 
A clean house with Peonies from Spring Hill and driftwood from Port Fairy
I feel good every time I look at my flowers
God I love having teenagers - Finn cooking pancakes for dinner
 
A bowl of strawberries - cut beautifully by Eva
The finished Sunday night dinner
 
Then relaxing on the couch with the Groodles

 
What a beautiful day......




Tuesday, November 5, 2013

DISTURBANCE

Why do I find Louise Bourgeois' art so disturbing?

"My work disturbs people and nobody wants to be disturbed. They are not fully aware of the effect my work has on them, but they know it is disturbing."  Louise Bourgeois, 1979 (Crone and Schaesberg, 2008,p.11)

In an earlier blog I describe visiting my Auntie who was dying and the resulting disturbance I felt.  I came to the conclusion that unknowingly my hands had expressed my conflicting emotions and painful realisation that no-one escapes death. My own art making had helped me to unravel my feelings of unease.  In the process of creating art I transferred my inner emotions into a symbolic form. 

In order to unravel the power of a Louise Bourgeois' sculpture to disturb me I have been reading "The return of the repressed" edited by Philip Larratt-Smith with a series of commissioned essays. There are two books.  The first holds Louise Bourgeois' own private notes that she wrote while undergoing psychoanalysis with Henry Lowenfeld which occurred on and off for thirty years.  The second is a companion guide that reflects on her psychoanalysis and her art from different contributors. 

At one point,  an essay (who) within the book describes how Louise was at times difficult and prickly.  The author believes this was because she would project her own anxiety into others creating a corresponding anxiety in them.  Her difficult emotions were also projected into her artwork. Louise Bourgeois herself stressed that it is not only the artist who creates from the unconscious, but the viewer must also work from the unconscious.  It is perhaps not surprising that I experienced some of the obvious emotional conflicts that Louise Bourgeois projected into her own artworks.

An invitation to experience rather than observe

When I think about the times I have seen her sculptures, I sense that she has invited me tantalisingly into her own emotional world.  I do not observe her work, I experience it.  I can walk around it and in the case of one of her large spiders - stand under it.  The sheer size of the spider gave me a sense of being trapped and overwhelmed. When I stood beneath it I felt I may be devoured or annihilated.

The exhibition at Heide Gallery, Melbourne Australia of her later works also invited the viewer in.  I was able to walk amongst her hanging headless bodies and walk into her jail like cell and under her spider.  Her installations invite you  quite literally to enter.  They force you to interact and through this to connect with her emotional experiences.

Other sculptures had movement created by the suspension. Suspended heads that slowly turned and moved. Hung almost domestically like washing on a clothes line. Domestic chores and dismemberment.  A disturbing image. A juxtaposition.


Conflicting material and conflicting emotions

Much like conflicting emotions Louise Bourgeois utilised conflicting materials. Her own clothes stuffed and hung from meathooks.  Soft warm fabric nestled in metal, glass or wood.  Latex and metal - like skin and bone.  Bodies attached to kitchen implements in place of heads or limbs.  Soft and hard.  Fluidity and rigidity.  Human and machine. 

Larratt-Smith (2012) states that her power as an artist lies in the 'unresolved and irresolvable contradictions between binary opposites.' (p.11) Kuspit (2012) believes her art has an 'uncanny, disorientating effect because it is innately paradoxical.' (p.22)

Containers for human pain and suffering

She created artworks that held her own emotional pain. Her themes seem to centre on the things that caused her great personal anguish.  Reflections of her childhood trauma, challenges with her mental health, passion, death, torture, dismemberment, sexuality, secrets, powerlessness, gender, murder are alluded to. They can be frightening to the viewer.

According to an essay titled 'Louise Bourgeois in Psychoanalysis with Henry Lowenfeld' written by Donald Kuspit, Louise (can I call her that?) was 'in desperate need of holding.' (Kuspit, 2012).  He details some of the periods in her life when she was profoundly depressed, agoraphobic and contemplating suicide.  Her art was her salvation.

Kuspit (2012) states that her artworks in whatever material she used are 'symptoms of her suffering.' (p.19)  He alludes to her art transcending  this pain by her embodiment of the suffering. 

Unapologetic honesty

Louise Bourgeois' art speaks of the unspeakable.  Sexuality, death, trauma,  It is unapologetic.  It does not care if we are offended, horrified, shocked, surprised or thrilled. Her art overts her innermost private thoughts - many of them violent or bizarre.  She brings the unbearable to her conscious through her hands. According to Larratt Smith (2012) she believes that the artist has a special ability to reach into the unconscious and express psychic truths in symbolic form.

Mitchell (2012) believed that keeping her memories raw and alive helped her to delve into her unconscious and take it one step further.  She makes concrete, through her art, what is unbearable and unknowable.  The transference of her feelings onto materials.  The brutality of her honesty is disturbing.   Mitchell (2012)describes this honesty in her art as true and real.


The following quotes from British artists
 I walked in and just gasped and went, 'This is for me.' I love the juxtaposition of sinister, controlling elements and full-on macho materials with a warm, nurturing and cocoon-like feminine side. I gather she's had to deal with a lot of anger, jealousy and rage in her past but she still treats the female and the male with love and compassion - there's no silly anti-male thing in her work. You're allowed to feel in its presence. If I had to choose one thing she's done it would be one of the enormous penises, which I've always wanted to pick up and touch when the security guards weren't looking. They're tender and full of passion and love, and there's a little bit of comedy in there.
 I like the ways she speaks about her family and its tensions. When the work is very illustrative it interests me less, but I like that the fuel for the work is very emotional. She works in lots of different ways, and one of the most refreshing things is that you can't necessarily spot a Louise Bourgeois. That's the sign of a really good artist
We're interested in Louise Bourgeois because of the way she archives memory in architecture. Her installations have a strong psychological tension within them, and I think we definitely cross over on that basis. The first time we came in contact with her was in the early Nineties when we went to an event at her studio in Brooklyn. We got to see the spider pieces she was working on before they showed in the Turbine Hall, and there were all these delicious cheeses and nibbles laid out within the work - you had to go underneath to get them. She struck us as being a pretty out-there kind of person.
 Louise goes further by including the viewer in the drama. The first show of hers that I saw, in New York at the end of the Seventies, involved parts of houses, … the paraphernalia of real life, and you could walk into them. I remember a staircase in the middle of a dim, dark room, with a little door in the side. You opened the door and there was a little blue rubber heart hanging on a hook under the stairs. That piece really stuck in my mind: there was something extremely secretive and fabulous about it.