Simply Sue: Building Up To An Art Attack
The builder put in a new staircase leading to Sue Papworth's basement. Unfortunately the hall floor hit you in mid-chest when you tried to go down the stairs.
The last exhibition at the Kirkburton Sculpture Park was brought on by a visit to Leeds Art Gallery some years ago. I’d gone there to get out of the way of the builders who were putting in another new staircase to the basement because they built the first one without looking at the plans. Like the chap said, “You never look at plans, you just sort of go ahead and do it.’’ So the hall floor hit you in mid-chest half-way down.
The builder stood there for some time saying “Well bugger me,’’ and I went out before I did a loft conversion on him. By the time I’d got back, they’d taken it out, read the plans, made another one, and bolted it in. There were lots of odd-shaped bits of wood about the place, too, though seeing as he’d got it right this time, not an odd-shaped builder. So I got inspired, and pretty soon I’d got a garage full of Art.
Like the stuff at Leeds, it all had titles like “Virgin and Child with Rubber Duck’’ and “Whither Humanity?’’ and consisted not of bricks, but of a lot of odd-shaped bits of wood. They were garnished, where the Muse had thought significant, with remnants of net curtain and the odd length of redundant skirting board. They looked very - artistic.
I was particularly proud of “The Intention of the Paraplegic Fly’’ and “Alteration No 2’’ and I got very good at giving supercilious looks at anyone who said, “What on earth’s that in aid of, then?’’ I can’t think why no-one’s offered me another exhibition anywhere since. I’ve seen a whole lot dafter,
No further exhibitions are currently on the cards, because I’m not getting any more building work done for the rest of my life, if I can help it, so I may not get inspired again in a hurry. But then again, my back fence is looking a bit iffy. And the last time I called this chap in it was leaning over alarmingly to port and he spent an afternoon hammering and swearing. It fell over to starboard again as soon as he left. That shows promise.
I bequeathed the last lot to the new wing at the Tate Gallery. I expect they’re hoping that I live long and prosper.
