Taking my samplers to Dundas Street Gallery, Scotland

I had submitted two samplers - Portrait of Mrs Konieczny and Self Portrait - into an exhibition opportunity at Dundas Street Gallery, Edinburgh, and my self portrait had been accepted.  Accepted works were to be delivered on either Saturday 10 or Monday 13 March, ready for the Private View on 16 March.

When I packed my case, I wondered whether to take just the Self Portrait, or whether to take Portrait of Mrs Konieczny and Portrait of Aunt Joan as well.  I keep them rolled up together, in acid free paper.  Inside me, I wanted to show my work to artists.  I'd not entered Portrait of Aunt Joan to the call for artworks, because at that stage it was still a work in progress.  So on impulse I packed them.  They need to be mounted on foam board, which is cut into 3 sections so it concertina folds to fit in my little suitcase.  I have two of these, plus a couple of off-cuts.  And I bought the multi-pack of Command Strips - enough to mount all 3 samplers.

I flew from Stansted to Edinburgh on Friday 9th.  What a palaver at Stansted airport!  Fortunately I was really early for the flight and was well before the peak hour Friday night travel.  You have to self scan your boarding pass, shoes off, all toiletries in a clear plastic bag (why?), then x-ray you and your luggage, then be given a serious rub-down by security staff before being allowed through check-in.  All done in a very officious tone by hectoring staff.  A really distasteful experience.  Actually I'd rather go by train!  I know they have to do their security checks and process people quickly, but the way the arrogant and disdainful staff spoke to foreign customers, who were struggling to understand the pronounced accents of the check-in staff, was just plain rude.  It did not represent the UK well.

I got the bus from Edinburgh Airport to my hotel on the Corstophine Road.  It was only a couple of minutes walk from the bus stop to the Innkeepers Lodge, but I think I got gravel stuck in the wheels of my case, and the increased resistance pulling my case, put my arm out.

I spent Saturday morning in the Scottish National Portrait Gallery, looking at When We Were Young, a photography exhibition of depiction of youth since the commencement of photography.  Walker Evans' Sharecropper family series of photographs from Alabama, are quite famous as a piece of documentary of what true poverty looks like.  However the image on display showed George Burroughs and family dressed in their best clothes - as he requested.  I wonder whether this was his reward for allowing the family to be used to depict poverty.  It raised interesting questions for me about how people want to be represented - at their best, in a respectful way, despite some obvious indicators of poverty.  For example, Burroughs' wife and oldest daughter have dresses with a flounce around the neck (which would have been extravagant use of fabric) so these were definitely their best dresses for the photograph.  Yet the three youngest children do not wear shoes, presumably because they don't have any.   But - they stand as a family unit, are all clean, with neatly combed hair, and stand alongside their home.  A positive portrayal of a family - and preserved the way they chose, for posterity.

Walker Evans, Sharecropper's Family 1936

Fisher Girls, Cromarty, 1860s.
James Valentine (Scottish, 1815-1880) Albumen Print.
Gift from Mrs Riddell in memory of Peter Fletcher Riddell in 1985

Then I went to deliver my sampler to Dundas St Gallery.  I spoke to Renee and showed her my Self Portrait.  Even before fully unwrapped, she said "Your photographs do not do your work justice".  (Vanda - you were right! - and annoyingly, I needed to hear this from a professional before I was galvanised into action to get better images!!).   I flicked back a corner of the sampler, to show a section of the other two, and Renee said immediately "if we have space, we'll show all 3". !!!  How good is that!  So I left all the mounts, pins and fixings, and her assistant will stage them.

I took the (nearly empty) train back to London.  It takes about 6 hours door-to-door, but I prefer this to flying.  No officious staff; no relentless selling of products while waiting; no crush loaded seating; and a spacious seat with a table!  What not to like!

The following day I was absolutely exhausted, with a very sore neck and arm.  Too much time sitting in cramped seats, sleeping in strange beds, lopsided working (computer, stitch, dragging case) and the most impactful - too much stressing about whether my work was good enough!