Found Things
I grew up in a house surrounded by found things. Whether bits of sea glass, rusty metal found on the beach, little lost plastic toys, or stones that look like a perfect sphere or a small dog, my parents couldn't resist building these found collections. That's one of the reasons that I love Kettle's Yard so much, it feels like home. It's also what drew me to a new exhibition at The Foundling Museum, curated by fellow Cornelia Parker, called simply Found.
Parker has responded in her own way to the uniquely personal and compelling tokens in the Foundling collection. These were left by mothers with their babies to provide a means of identifying them should the mother later be able to claim their child. The tokens are a vibrant piece of social history ranging from squares of fabric, to re-engraved money to, infamously, labels from liquor bottles. Parker has been drawn to the found element of these objects, but also, it seemed to me to the more emotional and conceptual nature of a foundling: finding a new life and identity within the hospital, tethered to the past only by that one small token.
Parker has invited an impressive group of colleagues from across the visual arts and music to contribute 'found' pieces, which she has then dispersed throughout the museum, as well as its temporary exhibition space, in a particularly elegant piece of curation. An impressive proportion of these figures are Royal Academicians, helping to bring the RA home to the site of early public exhibitions pioneered by Hogarth. A nice additional historical touch.
Many of the resulting pieces are personal and beautifully, small windows into the contributor and their history, just like the Foundling tokens. John Smith has offered 'Dad's Stick' an ordinary piece of wood used by his father to stir paint over many years. The end now cut off, the cross-section of the stick provides the layered history of the family's homes through layers of dried paint. Thomas Heatherwick offers his grandmother's gravy spoons (no surprise that these attracted me!) worn to a sharp angle by year's of stirring. Parker has placed these in the museum's Introductory Gallery, among the institutional cutlery of the hospital.
Other artists' work already responds to the idea of found things in ways which give you pause. One of Gavin Turk's sleeping bags is placed, unsettlingly in the Court Room, reminding of the poverty and desperation behind these sumptuous surroundings, and its continuance today. Graeme Miller's simple contribution touches on the ubiquity of certain objects in our lives. He has slowly collected a set of mismatched playing cards found discarded on the street. These appeal not only in the varied designs of their backs but also in the pattern of survival shown on their fronts: which suits and numbers are missing, which are oversubscribed.
I was reminded of the simple power of this group on a visit to Rainham Hall later in the week. The National Trust has recently opened the hall with a ground-breaking new approach to interpretation. No non-original furniture, visitor ropes, or costumed servants, just the house's remaining interiors and unusual ways to bring its history to life. One room features the objects found under the floorboards during restoration, which suggest how different rooms might have been used. One group includes a selection of playing cards. But Rainham hall is the subject for another blog post ...