Reykjavík Grapevine - 20.06.2014, Side 32

32
The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 1 — 2011
Poking fun at an archaic postal ser-
vice’s incompetence is very far from
being the sole focus of Peter’s work,
as his studio in east London proves
beyond a shadow of doubt. On dis-
play are artworks at various stages
of progress that span an impressive
array of mediums: collages, draw-
ing, sculptures, found objects and so
on. His studio has the same sense of
randomness as a conversation with
him does. Peter jets from topic to
topic and his enthusiasm for whatever
comes to his mind is infectious. He’s
clearly a man of many ideas, which
goes a long way to explaining his pre-
ferred method of working: Proposals.
I Propose
It was good fortune that forced Peter
to showcase his first proposal in 1997.
He had sold a piece that was headed
for an exhibition in Dublin, “a rare oc-
currence in those days,” he says, and
as he didn’t have anything to fill the
original artwork’s place he typed up
a proposal that read “I propose that
I follow in the footsteps of my mother
and train to become a midwife.” Thou-
sands of proposals have followed and
the only thing they all have in com-
mon is that they’re typewritten on
A4 sheets of paper. They range from
the ridiculous (“I propose to apply for
every job advertised in Reykjavik in
June, July and August 2014”) to the
mundane (“I propose to fish Albert
Dock”) and whilst the majority of
them will never be realised, due to re-
straints ranging from access to funds
to physical impossibility, the ones that
do eventually see the light of day car-
ry no more weight in the artist’s mind
than the ones that don’t. In fact, he
claims that realisation is failure. “The
idea of something is just more inter-
esting, and even more complete than
the realisation,” he explains, “you’re
beset with problems and compro-
mises through physical manifestation
and the finished article will never be
as pure as the idea.”
Over the course of our conversa-
tion Peter shows a knack for follow-
ing a relatively high-brow statement
with one in layman’s
terms, so he contin-
ues, “it’s like when I
saw [‘90s US indie
band] Slint live for
the first time, I knew
their album ‘Spid-
erland’ better than
any human being
should ever know
anything, so my ex-
perience never even
stood the chance of
matching my expec-
tations.”
Peter’s disasso-
ciation with ideas
and his insistence
of putting the re-
sponsibility of actualisation on the
receiver’s shoulders gives him ample
freedom as an artist and meanwhile
makes describing his work pretty
much impossible. “I don’t find any-
thing as abhorrent as a box or a sig-
nature style,” he remarks when I ask
him about his methods, “the work is
the experience rather than a descrip-
tion of something. Strangely, in pro-
posals it’s the written description of
the work that is the work,” he contin-
ues before confusingly adding, “but
it’s also the physical manifestation of
that written description of the work.”
He’s a conceptual artist if there
ever was one.
You Shall Not
Arguably one of the more site-specif-
ic pieces exhibited at C-O-N-T-I-N-
U-A-T-I-O-N is titled ‘Rules for Ice-
land.’ It’s a set of 17 rules that Peter
has either made up or found during
his travels. He maintains that said
rules are intended as additions to ex-
isting rules rather than alternatives,
and like his proposals they range from
the relatively logical (“Be respectful
to others, whether
they are in Iceland
or not”) to the ab-
solutely ridiculous
(“Remember whilst
in Iceland, in pub-
lic and private you
must always, always
dress like a monk”).
“That one is taken
from The Monks’
band rules,” he says,
referring to the ‘60s
US garage band.
This is the sec-
ond time Peter ex-
hibits rules and
his fascination with
them makes me
think it won’t be the last. “I’ve always
collected rules, either picked them up
from places or photographed them
wherever I come across them,” he says,
“the thing about rules is that they don’t
really exist. They’re just markers that
give you a point in time that you can
place yourself in.” Again, Peter’s more
philosophical quote is quickly followed
by a more grounding one: “I think we
all enjoy breaking rules. I at least do.
You know the feeling of the little vic-
tory when you manage to go on a train
without paying for a ticket. I don’t nec-
essarily want to be overt about my 'fuck
yous,' but rather I like a constant chorus
of smaller 'fuck yous.'”
Whilst many undoubtedly share
his sentiments on this, it turns out the
relationship of said rules to reality are
not so important. “It’s like that open-
ing of Fargo,” he tells me, referring to
the ‘90s Coen brothers’ film. “In its
opening sequence it states that it’s
based on real events, and whilst that’s
just a total fallacy, there’s nothing to
suggest that those events couldn’t
happen.” By this logic there’s nothing
to suggest that rules such as “walk
quietly, keep looking” won’t apply to
Iceland at some point.
It’s fairly safe to assume that C-O-N-T-I-N-U-A-T-I-O-N,
Peter Liversidge’s exhibition at i8, will only be comprised of
a portion of what the artist originally intended to showcase.
This is due to the introduction of an unwilling collaborator,
namely the postal service. In fact, according to the artist,
he’s only had about 70% success rate on his postal pieces.
Said postal pieces are a collection of objects Peter sends
individually via post to their intended destination, and whilst
a 70% success rate is quite miserable, it’s entirely likely that
the Icelandic postal service will be even less enthusiastic
about this collaboration. “Apparently, you can’t send ob-
jects longer than a metre to Iceland,” he remarks, “so when
I found out I sent the gallery a metre ruler in preparation
of the exhibition, and after a few weeks [i8 Gallery direc-
tor] Börkur got a call from the post office asking him if he
wanted them to send him this broken stick they had found
in their depot.”
Words
Árni Árnason
Photo
Nanna Dís
A Constant
Chorus Of
Little Fuck
Yous
32 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 08 — 2014ART
“I’ve always collected
rules, either picked
them up from places
or photographed
them wherever I come
across them; the thing
about rules is that
they don’t really exist.
They’re just markers
that give you a point in
time that you can place
yourself in.”
INTER
VIEW
C-O-N-T-I-N-U-A-T-I-O-N www.i8.isi8 Gallery02
AUGUST
12
JUNE