INTERVIEW with Poppy Whatmore MRSS

Addressing questions about the nature and function of maquettes in the practice of Poppy Whatmore, with some visual examples. Questions by SHG’s curator.

>>>> See Whatmore’s QUICK AND DIRTY exhibition in SHG1&2 <<<<

~ Are the maquettes dictated by ideas first, or the materials – eg. offcuts or leftovers from bigger projects? 

The maquettes are inspired by images I have in my head, from memories, or relating directly to personal experience. So, they are not forgotten I use any leftover materials to encapsulate these ideas. I keep offcuts of balsa wood and plasticine to play with, using studio leftovers from bigger projects, such as wood shards.

~ And, are the small pieces related or unrelated to those bigger pieces in more ways than materially?

Most of the small pieces relate to larger pieces with the consistency of following through an idea. Sometimes I make smaller works, intending to make them life size. Usually, the small-scale works are made out of anything to hand, but the materials for the larger works are carefully considered. For instance, in ‘Can We Talk’, it was important to use real, red bricks for the building of the wall in the final piece, to recreate a standard brick wall boundary. 

Sometimes, the maquettes only exist small scale, and I don’t plan them as larger works, for instance, ‘We At Least Have To Live Together.’ Other times, I make smaller works into larger pieces, but they work better at the original scale and material, for example ‘Power Balance’. Some only succeed as smaller works, such as ‘Worms’, but the forms or approach may extend into future compositions. Small maquettes can be useful in planning the configurations for larger works too; employed as working models, such as ‘Ziggurat.’

~ Could you talk about that in relation to one or two pieces in a similar fashion to the way you wrote about the individual works for Warped Domesticity. 

All the final works are born out of ideas and materials equally. I have clarified the process and context for ‘Benchmark’ and ‘Meetings’ below.

~ How does the maquette function in your practice by comparison (or in relation to) your painted drawings?

Functioning in a similar fashion to the painted drawings, the maquette is where I try to illustrate an idea, which I want to make life size later on. Alternatively, I may be considering a potential work that will take months. The maquettes and painted drawings are a way of encapsulating the idea before it is forgotten. The maquettes are useful to work things out spatially, and the drawings act as tools to work things out compositionally.

 _{^{‘Tropic of Capricorn’ 2022 – (Gloss paint, paper) 48 x 65 cm}}

Starting as an idea for a sculptural work, I enjoy the use of gloss paint in drawings as the process escapes control, with some form of liquidity in the method remaining. This prevents me from being precious about the outcome, and encourages quick gestures of an overall form or idea; facilitating a general impression in the material. This outcome creates some form of dynamic force, which appears as a frozen moment in time. The image is pictured as two red boots, with a wide black v-shape to suggest a sexually provocative straddling pose of pin legs resting on top of the desk. The title, ‘The Tropic of Cancer’, references Henry Miller’s subversive works, where he recounts conquests of sexual acts in his office. Clearly a subversive act playing with power dynamics, the term ‘pins’ refers to the colloquial term, to have a good ‘pair of pins’ when commenting on a woman’s legs.

The finished piece of this idea is shown below, as sketches and models are not always exactly reconstructed, but assembled to give the overall feeling of an idea. 

_{^{Tropic of Cancer, 2020 – (Moulded expanding foam, steel rod, table)}}

 ^{_{Don’t Kick Me Under The Table, 2022 – (Gloss paint, acrylic, paper) 48 x 65cm}}

This drawing started as an idea for a sculptural work, imagined as giant concrete worms protruding and emerging from a kitchen table. For me, the silvery, giant worms appear as an obtrusion, or a toxic experience where a social event has been polluted.  The sculptural work is yet to be realised, but I have begun making holes in a round kitchen table. I imagine the outcome will look different to the painting, as each material has a different way of behaving.

                 ^{_{‘Snakes and Ladders’ 2022-23 – Drawing (gloss paint, acrylic) 30x 20cm, and Sculpture (concrete, found ladder) 60 x 1120 x 142cm}}

~ Do you ever make a small version of a larger work for curation purposes? Or to figure out possible way to rework a bigger work? Or to design multiples? Or for the fun of it? (Or perhaps another reason?) – the little boots? 

‘Hankering for Classification’ is a classic example of making a smaller version of a larger work for curation purposes, to figure out possible ways to rework larger pieces, such as ‘Family Meal’ and ‘Flatpack. For the fun of it, I made little boot maquettes, which looked so absurd in small scale, and allowed me to experiment quickly with different materials. I also made small concrete maquettes for, ‘Walk all Over Me’ and ‘No Horizon, Walk The Line’, both of which were finalised in the same material. 

Documentation of model and example of larger works for curation purposes:

Hankering for Classification

Through research of the selected works and collaboration with the artists, I intended to build an installation with a skeletal, wooden structure of domestic spaces. The aim of the exhibition, “Hankering for Classification” was to catalogue artists’ works in a framework; to enable the viewer to pass through a physical immersive work (door frames in some cases), so they would be part of a lived experience for responding to a categorisation of objects.Each artists’ collection has a wall or room to themselves, where work is integrated with furniture exploding out or cutting through the structure. The planned arrangement relocates the viewer from the original order and composition of exhibition objects within a domestic setting. This work plays with the memory of past events projected into a physical reality.

^{_{Hankering for Classification – Maquettes, above, and actual installation, below}}

 

‘Family Meal‘ is an example of applying models as possible ways to re-work a future bigger piece

_{^{Family Meal – Maquette and plan, above, actual installation, below}}

Model Making for large scale projects

The maquette, ‘Flatpack‘ (20 x 20 x 20) cm explores the model of a living space with absurdist mechanisms for folding out of furniture forms within a confined space. The model is a 1:10 mock version of a larger work exploring the absurdist practice of flatpacks, which is extended to include slapstick ends. This process is enlarged to one to one.

^{_{Flatpack – Maquette, above, actual piece installed, below}}

 

Concrete and hinged maquettes made for ‘No Horizon: Walk The Line’

  _{^{No Horizon: Walk the Line – (Concrete slabs, steel rods, pin hinges) 3.6 x 3 x 0.8m}}

‘Ziggurat, 2019‘ – Site responsive, reconstructed doors from selected, documented local housing doors from the Aylesbury Estate – 5 x 2 x 5m (full installation) – (Letter boxes, key holes, locks, letter front door numbers, door guard, hinges, doors, wood, blue exterior paint) 3.2 x 3.2 x 1.4m

Here are some examples of models and their larger works:

Shed maquettes for Section of Stored Memory – (Found wood leftovers) 25 x 22 x 23cm

Section of Stored Memory, 2016 – (Found wood, found fixings, blind, found doll’s house) 2.4 x 1.6 x 1.7m

Ironically this had a doll’s house in it.

Examples of larger works from maquettes installed in ‘Small House Gallery’ (for Whatmore’s QUICK AND DIRTY exhibition in SHG1&2)

_{^{Can We Talk?, 2020 – Model: Balsa wood, glue gun 10 x 12 x 7cm / Finished: Deconstructed kitchen table, eggshell paint, bricks, mortar 145 x 122 x 170cm}}

‘Can We Talk?‘ depicts a thwarted conversation made physical where a dissected, kitchen table interrupts the imagined meeting of two people. In between, a precarious wall portrays the psychological weight of loss and the potential gravitas of a hypothetical conversation. The blocked screen emphasizes the gulf in this impending, intimate moment.

^{_{Benchmark, 2020 (Oak wood, differing sized stainless steel threads, connector nuts, found benches, bolts, nuts, washers) 300 x 200 x 250cm}}

^{_{Benchmark (maquette version) is approx. 40 x 19 x 34cm}}
 

‘Benchmark‘ draws our attention to the park bench itself, which is staged as an object levitating in space. As the most archetypal item of furniture, a park bench is part of the language, culture and social space of our cities. Sitting with another can feel intimate. In its original form the public bench is a place where we can all belong, but the metal punctured threads suggest an obstruction to rest and repose. 

As a re-enactment of a real-life incident, this piece is a memento to an anonymous, snoring man lying on a bench, with brown blood leaking from his nose. When the ambulance arrived, his clothes were cut by medics to expose lacerations all across his body.

The metal spikes here are a metaphor for the inner pain of this anonymous man and echo the tension of finding an isolated, homeless man so close to the edge. As an anthropomorphic configuration for the experience of witnessing a vulnerable man, Benchmark explores the liminal space between life and death. Memorial plaques on benches effectively humanise individuals, suggesting that we are sitting with the ghosts of all the others who sat before us.

The bench which housed a heart-breaking situation also potentially saved his life. The exposure of social issues is important here, as had the man not been sitting on a public bench, would he have been seen?  Housing heart breaking situation also potentially saved his life and draws our attention to the intersection of mental health and public space, especially during and after Covid.

Archetypes in Language

This piece, Benchmark, is a human reference point. As I work with archetypes in my practice, for me, it is interesting that a bench is the most standard item of furniture. Serving as universally understood symbols, patterns or concepts, the public bench is accessible to the community as a whole. As a key part of my practice, titles are a catalyst for thought and conceptual concerns.
 

Small works: to test the techniques: for instance, small boots (see Whatmore’s Quick and Dirty exhibition, June 2023, basement of SH2) and the (below) concrete works too:

_{^{(above) I Bought a Little City, Ain’t It Pretty – (Marble Dust, cement fondu, maple wood)}}

_{^{(above) Walk All Over Me, 2018 – Dimensions variable – each concrete slab is 40 x 40 cm with heights 4/8/12cm}}

L: Worm patch #1 – (Plasticine, cardboard) – Price: £120 / R: Worm patch #2 – (Clay, glaze) – Price: £240

~ Were any of these maquette works borne out of the Covid lockdown experience? – ie. were these a new-ish development/redevelopment in your practice from 2019/20 onward?)

 It is true to say that I made a series of maquettes during lockdown, using materials at hand, such as plasticine, balsa wood, blue tack and cardboard. However, I have always made models consistently throughout my practice, as tools for thinking and forming ideas, probably borne out of my former architectural training. The lockdown maquettes have common materials and themes and can be seen as a nexus of work. I have re-made some of my more precarious works in clay since lockdown, so they can keep long term. At times, the change of material has slightly adjusted the meaning and configuration of the works.

~ When one makes LARGE scale works out of any (or all) of these ‘throwaway’ materials, the work reads as ‘contemporary art’ or ‘contemporary sculpture’. Yet when it’s made small-scale, they read as ‘maquettes’ which has connotations of lower status in the art hierarchy. Do you agree? 

I think this is an interesting statement as larger works definitely have more of a significant impact. However, the meaning of smaller works can be closer to the initial ideas than the larger pieces. I sometimes think of Louise Bourgeois’s minute works, which reminds me that scale does not have any significance and can have just as dramatic an effect as bigger works.

Small work which altered the meaning when working large scale and in different material

This maquette, above is a memory of a re-enactment of a remembered family argument, where exaggerated golf clubs are used as weapons to attack the seated household. This in turn destroys the structure of the round table. A tool that is at one end a symbol of leisure becomes an antagonistic weapon to throw at other parties around the table. As a round table is a symbol of unity, the fracturing of this arrangement is here emphasized.

The work explores a moment of tension. The larger work has a different reading, and is intriguing in other ways, as the pink shapes look like alien plants invading a round outdoor table. I think the smaller work is more menacing as the clubs invade intrusively with each other. 

_{^{Family Sport, 2020 – (Foam, electric tape, paint, found steel table) 240 x 140 x 140cm}}

​

~ Why is it that smaller work automatically reads as maquette-ish? Do you think it’s due to the small size? or the quickness and ‘sketchiness’ of the making, and perhaps of the finish? But then, why when writ large, no matter how ‘unfinished’ the finish, and how cheap the materials, are they’re read completely differently (except by traditionalists, no doubt)?

I have made some small-scale works, which simply do not have the same impact when upsized. For this reason, I have abandoned them as a result.

_{^{Balance of Power, 2020 – (Blue-tack, plasticine) / larger version – (expanded foam, grout, putty, black plastic) 6 x 4 x 2.5cm / 1.3 x 1 x 0.6cm}}

~ I’ve been thinking about this ever since I was interviewed by a PhD student (Carole Griffiths) for her thesis – We were discussing the devaluing of small intimate artworks and the over-awe of the monumental – and how bigger isn’t always better – she brought up Tracey Emin’s ‘Mother’ and what gets lost in the scaling up from hand-held wire and clay model to 9 metres and 15 tonnes in bronze. _{^{https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2020/jan/02/tracey-emin-interview-munch-mother-statue-oslo}} Thoughts? 😜

I think assuming that smaller scale works will read similarly at a different scale is not possible. I do not attempt to scale up all smaller works as I think it is important to understand that the scaled-up version will read differently to the smaller works and it is essential to read every work within and of itself.

With regard to Tracey Emin’s ‘Mother’, I think it is possible that that some of the fragility of the handmade object is lostwhen it is sized up. The finger marks are scaled up which can alter their reading. The bronze ‘Mother’ sculpture overwhelms the human figure in height and form.  For me, this monumental size depicts the magnanimous nature and importance of a mother figure, perhaps not her own fragility.

_{Worms, 2020 – (Plasticine, resin-bonded aggregate samples) 16 x 8 x 8cm – Price: £85}

Sometimes small and quick works become ruminations for my future practice and they will inform other works, for instance my worm series.

_{L: To Catch a Breath, 2022 – 82 x 52 x 48cm / R: This Condition, 2022 – 98 x 45 x 85cm}

^{Both: (Concrete, found chair, spray paint)}

(These above two concrete chair works were in the ‘Warped Domesticity‘ exhibition at Stash Gallery, Vout-O-Reenee’s arts club in April/May 2023, featuring key works by Poppy Whatmore, Barbara Beyer and Eldi Dundee)