Finding joy in the mundane
In celebration of the everyday
👋
Today, mundanity is somewhat of a sought after commodity.
An antidote to the constant visceral stimulus of the modern world.
Maybe, it’s in part exacerbated by the compounding forces of a climate crisis and two years of living through ~this~. Whatever it is, it’s been a long time in the making.
In reality this perhaps transpires as a renewed appreciation of rituals, sensorial moments and simple pleasures. The joy of making a great cup of coffee, cooking, watching the sun stream through the window or nurturing plants. Creating rituals and finding meaning in everyday moments and things.
It’s why often we might prefer to read in a coffee shop on a Saturday afternoon, or buy a great scented candle rather than the latest phone. In part, it’s a form of self-care.
Like others, I have long had a love for the way artists explore the mundane and ordinary, and have often wondered what it says about us.
In a lot of ways, I find it calming. In others I find it reassuring. But more than that, I’m drawn to the simplicity.
There’s something distinctly vulnerable yet self-assured about works of artists such as Ed Ruscha or Humphrey Ocean. Whilst the seeming ‘normality’ of Martin Parr’s photography is perhaps, in someways, comforting.
In ‘A Guide to Self Care’ Allesandro Furchino Capria builds on a back catalogue of work which explores the everyday and mundane. The slightly ironic title is often at odds with the imagery. Works such as ‘Don’t stress yourself out too much’ or ‘Eat fruit and listen to good music’, deliver some important lessons about the things that matter — the ability to find balance.
His work is, in someways perhaps, reminiscent of the likes of Ruscha. Who’s book titles such as ‘Thirty Four Parking Lots’ offer brief descriptions of what’s inside.
Capria’s website homepage houses video footage of the daily moments that otherwise might pass you by. A bush blowing in the wind, sea lapping against the rocks, or cityscape at sunset for example.
‘Branches from my father’s garden (to better find out who he might be)’ is at first glance a selection of photos of branches. But what it represents, (to me at least), is so much more. It’s love, loss, belonging, regret. Like the cycles of nature, it’s a reminder to pay attention to the everyday things and moments unsaid. Because often they hold more meaning than words will ever know.
What binds these artists is their ability to take small and insignificant everyday moments or things and capture them with such clarity, depth and simplicity. There’s something inherently intimate about their work which helps us see them, and by default ourselves and others in a whole new light.
Until next time 👋,
Harriet
🎙️ 🎧 A few weeks ago the excellent Mark Pollard invited me on to his Sweathead podcast to talk about how art can be useful to strategists, as well as working within the social and environmental impact space. We also discussed some of the themes in this newsletter. If that sounds of interest you can listen to it here.