Wonderful artist Elia Bosshard invited me over for a cup of tea to her charming house on the edge of Glebe. We set at her kitchen table overlooking the garden, the afternoon birds visiting the neighbour’s trees, and we spoke about our mutual interest in spaces, phenomenology, and inter-corporeal relationships. We also spoke about daily routines and rituals we create in order to structure our lives and stay productive. And we’ve considered how do resting, dreaming, and spending time looking at the ocean, into the open horizon, fit into that?
We spoke about walking, note-keeping, and value of conversation. About neighbours and their mysterious sounds. About the impact of spaces on our mental wellbeing. And why should urban developers be aware of differences between spaces and places.
This and so much more in the podcast below, recorded on the 18th of September 2020 in Sydney, Australia.
Elia Bosshard is an artist and scenographic designer, an editor and founder of the online arts publication ADSR Zine. Elia's art practice is an inquiry into space and constructed frameworks, and perceptions of space and place.
This podcast was recorded and produced on the stolen lands of the people of Eora nation. We pay our respect to elders past and present; and our gratitude for the care they have given to this land. It is our hope to learn from their wisdom.
TRANSCRIPT
Ira Ferris: Before we start talking about your practice, I wanted to touch on something you've mentioned before we started recording. You were saying that you've started a new routine of going for morning walks. Where do you go for a walk and how long do you walk for, and what effect does it have on you?
Elia Bosshard: I think I'm in my fifth week of my walking routine now, fifth or sixth week, and I'm normally not very good at sticking to routines unless it's a really specific goal or a deadline. But I was finding myself really lost at the end of the day, ... And at the start of the day, and in the middle of the day. [laughs] And it's not that I was not sure what I wanted to do with my work; it was just this sense of not having control over time. So, I thought, if I go for a walk at the beginning of the day, then I'll at least reach a destination. So, I walk to Pyrmont and it takes me maybe twenty-five minutes. And there's this park, Giba Park. It's really beautiful. It is on a cliff. I think it was a part of an old quarry, so all the walls are really shear. And you've got this really nice view over the harbour and it's just a great place to walk to. There's no one there, I can sketch for as long as I like. And that's I guess the allowance of myself; that I can take as long as I like for the walk and to sit there. And then I walk back. And my only obligation to myself is that by the time I get home, I've made a decision of what I'm going to do when I get home.
Ira Ferris: You mean you made the decision during the walk?
Elia Bosshard: Yeah. Yeah, exactly. It gives me this sense that when I get back home I've arrived to the studio. Because I work at home. So, if I leave and come back, it's that transition of space that I impose on myself. So yeah, I do that every morning and I find it really helps. And then in the afternoon I also do a walk which is like a recreational walk and just enjoy the sun and get some vitamin D.
Ira Ferris: Is the afternoon one when you finish working; as a way to mark the transition again between working and the rest of the day?
Elia Bosshard: Yeah. Exactly right. Yeah.
Ira Ferris: And is the morning walk always at the same time? Do you wake up at the same time?
Elia Bosshard: It's probably more between a certain point in time. So, I get up around seven and I leave the home between eight and eight thirty. I don't want to rush myself at all, but there's still that sense of regularity. It's a really difficult balance to strike. But because I've practiced it now, it's much easier. It feels more natural.
Ira Ferris: And what is your natural sleeping rhythm?
Elia Bosshard: I've had to regulate that as well. Because usually I find it really hard to sleep, but I try to go to bed between ten and eleven and then I have to read and then I have to listen to wave sounds to get to sleep. And that's like the only thing that really helps me; having that white noise. Because otherwise it's like this incredible time of day; I think it's called hypnagogia where your mind is between wake and sleep, and I find that to be a really good thinking time, but it doesn't help you sleep. So, I have to overcome that by listening to white noise.
Ira Ferris: And around what time of night would that be, that you start that process in order to fall asleep?
Elia Bosshard: Probably like eleven, eleven-ish.
Ira Ferris: And has that pattern changed in any way in these Corona-period of drastic life changes?
Elia Bosshard: I think so. It's been a weird year because usually for the last few years I've been teaching music in the afternoons and so I'd be teaching from three to eight p.m. and then I'd be just tired from that work and that constant social face-to-face time with students. But in the last year, as I gave up on my teaching to spend full time in the studio, it's been really strange because all of a sudden I've got all this space in the day that I need to fill that I'm not used to filling. And so, I think part of that is also trying to use up all my energy. So, I guess a lot of new routines have started this year because of that switch in my lifestyle.
Ira Ferris: It's interesting, these rituals that we need to create in order to differentiate between working spaces, living spaces, spaces for rest, because everything kind of meshed together in this Corona-period. So, it's interesting how you have found this through walking.
Elia Bosshard: There's a great book that I'm reading at the moment, Daily Rituals by Mason Currey. He's a writer himself, and he curated this book full of different artists and scientists and writers sharing their daily rituals. And it's really comforting to read because you realize how different everyone's routines are. Everyone finds their own rhythm, I guess, depending on their work or their family life or where they live.
Ira Ferris: Was there anything that stood out for you that you kind of thought, oh, I could take that on, that's inspiring?
Elia Bosshard: It's interesting to see how people work within their home space. I guess I'm thinking about that more because we're much more in our domestic space. A lot of the time people seem to need to have that space where they feel completely alone. And I know that I definitely need that. And then a lot of people also go for long, long walks. Like Satie, the French composer, he moved out of Paris, but even though he moved out of the city, he still walked six miles every day back into the city to visit friends. But he used this time to sort of stop along the way. It would take him hours, but he would stop along the way and take notes. And it would almost be like his traveling studio. And then he would often miss the last train or bus home and end up walking home at like 1:00 a.m. in the morning. And then he'd get up at the same time, no matter how late he got home, he got up at the same time and just did it all again. So, yeah, I really like that ritual. And then... Another walking… Oh, there's so many walking ones, actually! Tchaikovsky, when he was exiled and went to live in the country, he had to do two hours of walking in the afternoons, strictly two hours. He was really superstitious about it and had to be exactly that length of time. But again, you know, he would be stopping to take notes along the way. And I guess, using that walking experience to sort of stimulate thoughts from your studio session earlier in the day or...
Ira Ferris: It's interesting because life of an artist is often considered as totally unstructured and loose and their work spills into their life. But now I'm hearing, and it's the way I experience it as well, that artists actually do need a structure and they find ways to create certain routines, otherwise nothing would be done, especially when there is no external deadline as you're experiencing at the moment.
Elia Bosshard: Yeah.
Ira Ferris: You also spoke about a need for the space of aloneness. How do you find that space?
Elia Bosshard: To be perfectly honest, I'm struggling with that. I realized that when you are searching for aloneness, it's not just a physical space; it is as much the mental space. And sometimes that pressure of needing to answer a text message or an email in order to be responsive and reliable to whoever, even friends or family, can affect it. And I just wish I had a little more, I don't know if it's discipline or just being able to rid myself of the anxiety of needing to be in communication all the time. So anyway, I'm working on that. But otherwise, I think going for the walk actually really helps because I'm walking alone and so I can find that mental space for myself. And then once I ease into the studio, I get into that flow state where your mind is just busy with a problem and you're able to forget everything else. But, it's not something that I can really just switch on, unfortunately.
Ira Ferris: One of the main interests of yours, in your practice, is space. And I'm curious how you came to this interest, because when I met you, I primarily knew you as a musician. We met through a performance we did with the group called post, Oedipus Schmoedipus. So, I knew you through performance as well, I guess. But you were actually studying at the CON (Sydney Conservatorium of Music) and you're a flutist. So how did you become interested in spaces and how did this transition in your career happen? And have you fully transitioned from music into the other areas? And what areas are those, how would you describe your current practice?
Elia Bosshard: Oh, I never know how to fully articulate this path because it feels really convoluted and maybe it is convoluted. I guess for me, it's fairly easy to draw parallels between being a flute player, a musician, a designer for live performance, and now installation artist and visual artist. I think so often in the arts we work in a particular box or arena and that's never interested me, being defined as one thing. I just love making things. But I also love music. When I left school, I was between the two. I didn't know whether to do music or go into visual arts. So, I guess my plan at the time was to start with music, see how that goes, and then study design afterwards. But yeah, flute really took over and I practiced a lot and I spent four years at uni studying that. And eventually, within flute I became really interested in extended techniques. How do you extend music as a form through sound and what can you do with the flute in order to extend on this instrument as an art form, or as a practice. So, I initially started creating installations for music works, particularly new music works, as a way of breaking down the spatial relationships and also the conventions of audience and performer, behavioural relationships and interpretive relationships. And what I realized was how binary it was. You basically have your stage space and then the audience space and it's been like that for millennia. And there's nothing wrong with that but I was interested in seeing if there were other ways to engage with performance. So, I started experimenting with different spatial setups for music performance, and it led to a lot of building things, often building the stage space. And then I just thought, I really need some help. I need to learn more about design and the kind of practicalities of it and how to approach it. So, I went to study design and I spent a year at Enmore Design Center at TAFE, which was fantastic. And then I found out about the NIDA design course and did that course, left halfway through which is what I needed at the time. And then, yeah, from there I was doing a lot of designing for theatre, which was really focused on space in terms of having people on the stage, moving through space, moving through structures within set design. And where did it go from there? I guess I really wanted to question what were the basic elements of space and what were the theories behind space and how do we relate to it? How do we interpret the shapes of space? I think at the moment I'm really looking at this essential relationship that we have with space, but it really all stems from how we as a group of people connect within spaces. It's a very human experience to be in a space together. But within that experience, I believe that the shapes of space can alter our relationships with each other.
Ira Ferris: Phenomenology, right?
Elia Bosshard: Exactly.
Ira Ferris: Which is something that interests me a lot, as a dancer and a curator. I'm very interested in how we move through spaces, how we design that movement through the configuration of the space, how it affects our perception of the objects in the space, in an exhibition for example, and our interactions with each other which is something that’s obviously been turned upside down currently, because of Covid. So, I have been wondering whether your perception, your thoughts, your philosophies around space have been drastically changed in the last months.
Elia Bosshard: I don't think my ideas around space have really changed too much, they are probably just more enhanced. And also, I think with exploring any topic in depth, it takes time. And the more you think about something, the more questions you have around it. So, I've had the time to be able to do that and probably just extend my ideas further. This is probably the first time I'm really trying to articulate a lot of them. So that's an interesting experience in itself; trying to rack my brain of what I was thinking a few months ago and trying to see that extension and explain it to you.
Ira Ferris: Do you as an artist find it useful to have conversations about your practice with others? And is there a particular time when you feel they are more useful than some other times? Is there a time when you maybe require that space of aloneness and space of silence before you are willing to engage in conversation?
Elia Bosshard: Yeah, that's a really good question and I'm not quite sure how to answer all of it. But I would definitely say that talking is always helpful, probably at any stage, because even though I work in projects, as I'm sure most people do, there's always this feeling of a greater body of work or that greater practice. And so, it's constantly in motion. There's no beginning or end. So, I think being able to talk at any time, it creates that really important feedback loop and you suddenly can have a realization or with the help of someone else make a connection, or they see something that you didn't see. And yeah, I find it really exciting, actually. It's probably a great stimulant, especially now when we don't have that same level of output for the work in a tangible sense. Maybe conversation is that replacement. At least you are outputting ideas and creating a feedback loop that way.
Ira Ferris: I do find, though, personally, when the idea is quite fresh, a need to be a bit more careful about putting it out there just because I haven't fully articulated it to myself and if I receive an input from other people, it could take me in direction that is not necessarily where I would want to go.
Elia Bosshard: Yeah, I can totally see what you're saying. And actually, I agree. I'm the same in that regard. Two things come to mind. The first one being, I would probably feel-out ideas without thinking too much to only one person, which is my partner, because I know I'll get that really honest reaction. And I realize it's actually a way of testing things. It's a very comfortable testing ground, which leads me to the second thing. A friend of mine has a really great expression, which I love to use, which is "following a fake body of work". And it's to describe this situation when you pursue an idea that you really believe in and you think that you've cracked something and you spend all this time exploring it and then you realize that it's actually a total distraction. And you've just created this fake body of work. So, I think maybe sharing a few of those really initial thoughts with my partner is a way to test if I'm following a fake body of work or not, which, you know, probably more than half the time is.
Ira Ferris: So you are testing how committed you are to a particular idea?
Elia Bosshard: Exactly. Yeah.
Ira Ferris: And what about at the end of the process when you have presented the work to people, the work is done; do you feel like you have an opportunity to reflect on it with others, or is that a bit more lonely space?
Elia Bosshard: Hmm. I think, for me that is probably quite personal. That's probably a part of my practice that I don't really share. But over the last few years, I've made an effort to give myself time to write a reflection about each project as soon as it's over. And it's totally automatic, stream of consciousness without editing my thoughts. Just as a way to reflect on the project. And then I'll just keep that to myself and put it away. But I've found that's really a good thing to come back to if I'm unsure about things, because it's a document that shows that I've been unsure before or I've encountered certain challenges before and I've been able to work through them. And it's kind of comforting. It's also good as a document for your thinking process around your work in general.
Ira Ferris: So you come back to those writings?
Elia Bosshard: Yeah, yeah. Not all the time. Maybe like once a year or if I really need it.
Ira Ferris: I did want to talk to you about your working methodology actually. I always wonder whether an artist has or buys a notepad for each project they start developing and starts noting things down. And if you do it at all, whether you are writing texts or poems or brief notes or is it more like drawing or... How do you map your thoughts, I guess?
Elia Bosshard: Yeah, I love learning that about artists as well. Actually, it's articulated really well in that daily rituals book; the kind of materials people use to write notes. I use notebooks and I'm trying to be a bit more organized and if I write on other pieces of paper I'll glue them into the book, so it's all together. There's something nice about looking over your notebook of things. I mean most of it is pretty useless but it becomes this sort of aesthetic diary. It's definitely nice to have that document because so much of the process is conceptual or mental, and there's no other way to really articulate it. So, yeah, it's a good tangible asset to have.
Ira Ferris: And also, because some ideas get lost or become dormant. So, if you go back you can remind yourself of a thought you had a while ago but has slipped your mind. And now is maybe the time for that idea to be realised. So, a notepad which contains those 'old' thoughts, is a nice little reminder.
Elia Bosshard: Yes, so true.
Ira Ferris: And you’ve just mentioned that your process is quite conceptual. And I was thinking of that while you spoke about transition from music to working on set designs and all that. Because I feel, and I might be wrong but from what I'm observing, that your process is becoming more and more conceptual. For example, project that you've just done for ADSR zine about Creative Spaces was kind of conceptual work rather than material work.
Elia Bosshard: I think all my work has always been conceptual. That's always been the starting point. Maybe it doesn't appear that way because it always ends up as a material work. But for me, it always starts with the idea, trying to hone in on the idea. But I realize that can also be quite stifling to work like that. And I think now I've had time to do more of a studio-based practice and just play with making things and let both approaches inform each other. That's interesting to play with. Setting up these rules for yourself but then also being willing to bend them or let go of some in order to let another part come through at any moment that feels right to do so. Did I answer the question? [laughs]
Ira Ferris: Yeah. Yeah. And I just remembered what I wanted to ask you even before that, when you spoke about writing... Because I feel like we are talking a lot about rituals that we create, spaces for creative production. So in terms of rituals, I was wondering, do you set yourself a task to write for certain amount of time or certain amount of space daily, or is it something that you just do when you feel like it and for as long as you feel?
Elia Bosshard: I probably do as I feel. I've tried to be more rigid about meeting certain tasks or goals but I think because I've got the time now, I can be a little looser, which is great cause... I don't know, it's hard to talk in terms of if it's productive or efficient. I don't really know because the circumstances around it have changed, but I can just say that it feels good to be able to give myself space to work as much as I want and then move on to something else. One practice which has been really great, completely away from writing or thinking too much, is rearranging our living room. So, we've had a lot of furniture go in and out. We've had a lot of furniture changes in the house lately. It's just been a lot of big furniture pieces moving around for whatever reason. But I love doing it. It's really fun. Setting up a room differently. And I think I've done that room maybe five different arrangements in the last three months. There's something really energizing about changing your space, the arrangement in your space. It changes everything. It changes your pathway through the space. It changes the light. It feels like a completely different room. But you know, I spend a few hours doing that and then I think, oh, no, I haven't done anything in the studio today. Oh, this isn't good. But then I thought, you know what? It's actually directly related to space so that's fine. [laughs] And it was fun! So, yeah, allowing yourself different approaches is ... Well, it works for me. I have to learn how not to reprimand myself if I'm not writing a whole page like I first intended to at the start of the day. It's okay to divert and do something different.
Ira Ferris: And the question is also whether we ever divert, because even those times when we 'waste time' are meaningful times of some kind of production, some kind of percolation of the process and creativity, just in a different way. And you and I spoke in the past about this concept of in-between space in creative practice and how to deal with that.
Elia Bosshard: And you wrote your piece for the zine on idleness which was great. I felt completely confident after reading that piece.
Ira Ferris: Yeah, I think it's so important to create spaces for doing nothing or laziness or boredom and not always feel pressure to fill in the space and time with content. And I think that those times are most productive times in a way.
Elia Bosshard: Yeah.
Ira Ferris: I'm just participating in a workshop where we are looking at space and we are divided into groups and my group had a task to consider the space of rest (i.e. bedroom) and the space of work. And we were asked to imagine our ideal working space. And somebody spoke about a need to create a separate space for thinking. And I realised that when I was imagining my ideal working room, that room was predominantly a space for thinking. Because I feel that so much of our work is thinking and actually it's only maybe 25% of the work that is producing a physical object. But without this space of thinking, there is nothing.
Elia Bosshard: Yeah, that's really interesting. I've been thinking, what is the reason why people love going to the beach and looking at the ocean? What is the attraction of looking at the ocean? And this sort of stemmed from a work I did last year where I had this big empty warehouse space and I was considering what's the simplest division of space that you could do? It's just a line. It's just the horizon. That's the simplest division of space. You divide an empty area into two. So, I thought, yeah, there's something about the horizon and that idea of endless space. And I am connecting it to ideas of potential or possibility and openness. It's something that I think we all need. That space for thinking. And we find it in different ways. I mean, that's probably why I go to the park that's elevated and I get a clear sightline of the city. It's connected to that idea of access to open space. But, in thinking about that, you also need the contrast from a small space. So, in order for that mental thinking space to exist, you need that contrast which is actually what we were talking about earlier; the transition. I think that transition is essential to finding that thinking space. At least for me.
Ira Ferris: Mmm. Cause otherwise everything would just mesh into one thing and there wouldn't be any dividers between productivity and the other, I guess. Which is kind of what is happening at the moment with home space becoming working space and how that can even function. Because I was wondering, where is home and where is space of rest if everywhere is space of work?
Elia Bosshard: Yeah, it would be interesting to do a study of where people position their desks to work from home. This is a huge assumption, but I imagine they're probably against the wall in a nook or looking out the window, somewhere that feels like you've got access to a wider space or have visual sightlines beyond your four walls. Or maybe, if in a nook, that you go from your larger living space into this sort of focused area. Anyway, that would be interesting to study.
Ira Ferris: Yeah and, I mean, this study of space, how the spaces affect us, where the table should be positioned... It's feng shui, isn't it? It's an ancient, this practice of thinking about how spaces affect our emotional and mental space.
Elia Bosshard: Absolutely.
Ira Ferris: And I guess, when we start exploring our relationship to space, whether it's indoor or outdoor space, we start exploring our internal space too. What feels good. And I think it's such an important way and practice to get outside of the head and into the body.
Elia Bosshard: Yeah and maybe... Just coming back to practice. Maybe that's where the making of things comes into play. It's that need to get this space or these ideas into a tangible existence otherwise... I mean, I get lost in my head very easily. And I think the walking is a remedy to that. Like immediately, you know, you kind of... Well, it's a cliche but you put things into perspective. And it really is that, in terms of a visual perspective as well as internal mental perspective.
Ira Ferris: There's also something about movement because it's a release. Because if you're indoors and you're trying to think, you can get very stuck or rigid in your thoughts and it's almost like something is blocked and then you go out, you move your body and this little clog kind of moves.
Elia Bosshard: Yeah. Actually, I have a question for you about that, because I remember you did a film of you dancing in... was it your bedroom?
Ira Ferris: Yeah.
Elia Bosshard: So did you feel you were conscious of your relationship with the space as you were doing that? Because from the video it looked quite confined, like you were almost close enough to touch all your furniture in the room at any moment.
Ira Ferris: I have to say that work was complete accident. We were just trying out a camera. So, I wasn't really thinking about anything or trying to achieve anything. But when I look back at it, I can see the things you are mentioning. But as per my general awareness of space, I'm really grateful for having this background in dance and I'm only just becoming aware of the effect that dance had on me. One of the main things that dance teaches you is awareness of space and other bodies in space, because it's all about that. You have to be aware who is to your left, who is to your right, who is behind or in front. Where is the corner, where is an object in the space, and so on. And that translated in other things in my life. I am now very conscious of that. And I like observing how much spatially aware other people are.
Elia Bosshard: Yeah.
Ira Ferris: What is your thinking around that?
Elia Bosshard: Oh god it's really funny. I mean the first thing that comes to mind is seeing how people drive. I think so many people don't have spatial awareness, and that's fine, but, you know, when you're in a really fast-moving vehicle, it becomes quite concerning. It's funny seeing some people park. And, of course, it's very obvious when you're a bystander, you can see the whole vehicle and the space as one. And when you're in the car, you can't. So, I appreciate that's a difficult situation. But, you know, you have to rely on a few small mirrors and your intuitive awareness of the size of the vehicle in order to park it efficiently and part of that practice is having spatial awareness. And I mean, you have to be especially aware because the parking spots are constantly changing size. So that's just a funny little study to observe in daily life.
Ira Ferris: Yeah. And even with the relationship between the bodies. I was in the park the other day and a friend and I were reading a sign, some kind of signage about behaviour in the park and two girls came and one of them stood directly in between us and the sign. And it's just I mean, yeah, ... I straightaway thought about spatial awareness. And my friend made a joke: "oh, millennials." And, I guess, when we speak about millennials, it’s a joke but there is something to it as well. Because millennials have spent most of their lives glued to the screen, and I do feel that has affected their relationship to other bodies in the space.
Elia Bosshard: That is such a good question. I have not thought about this nearly enough to be able to answer your thought. I mean, ... it would definitely have an effect because the way that we experience space is wholly connected to frameworks. And screen is a very contained framework. It's pretty amazing how focused we can be on one particular area and not notice anything in our peripheries at all. So, I wonder if that has affected peripheral vision and this sense of even just moving your eyes around.
Ira Ferris: Yeah, like tunnelling.
Elia Bosshard: Yeah.
Ira Ferris: Since we are mentioning screens, I was wondering, how are you thinking of space in terms of online spaces like Zoom or Facebook? Do you consider them as space and what kind of spaces are they?
Elia Bosshard: Yeah, I think virtual space is a really interesting area but it's not something that is a huge part of my practice at the moment. At the moment, I'm more interested in our physical relationship with space. There just seems to be something more human about it, in that it's very immediate. Maybe virtual spaces are related in that they're... I'm interested in how spaces are constructed and that relates to, you know, the construction of a physical space, like a building. I mean, you can go to a building in a VR video game and it could look exactly the same, but it would feel completely different. And actually, now that I think of it, I did explore this a little bit. I have a friend who works with virtual reality and with 3D scanning of objects for museums and galleries, and we 3D scanned a model that I made from concrete. The one that you saw last year, at 107. And the model was of 107 gallery. And then when we scanned it, he put it all together on his computer. I don't really know how this works, but essentially we had the digital version of the model and then using virtual reality goggles, I could walk inside my model. And that was a really interesting translation of experience, starting with a gallery space, creating a model of it in a scale model, and then recording the model and blowing it up again into one to one scale. It was just this totally alien kind of world that felt familiar, but it was totally different at the same time and I couldn't reconcile, what had changed, apart from the obvious things, that it's not the same space. Yeah, it was quite bizarre. It also floated in this endless black. So it was that space by itself, not in relation to anything. So that is a rare experience in itself; isolating space from a wider context. I don't think I've been able to do that before.
Ira Ferris: That would have been very uncanny.
Elia Bosshard: Yeah.
Ira Ferris: And also, I guess, you would lose all the other sensory input because you're able to see the space but there is nothing beyond the vision. What usually interests me when I think about our experience of space are things beyond vision. So, focusing on acoustics, smells, temperature of the space. All these things would not exist in that experience you've had, I guess. Are you, given your background in music, exploring acoustics of space in your practice?
Elia Bosshard: I'm not actively pursuing it, but I suppose I recognize that they're there. I mean, going back to that idea of entering a digital space, using virtual reality, there's that disconnect aurally. What I was hearing in that instance was the physical space I was standing in, which is actually this kitchen and the sounds from the outside. But visually, I was in a completely different space. So, there was that disjunction of being in two places at once. I mean, sound is so transportive. You can't neglect to think about it, if you're considering space. I mean, space creates... Does space create sound? No, maybe it's just like a chamber for sound.
Ira Ferris: A container.
Elia Bosshard: Yeah.
Ira Ferris: I would like to come back into this space with you and in order to do that, I will use a questionnaire you have developed for one of your ADSR contributions. And I really loved it. It's an interesting exercise of being present in a space. So, I will guide you through it.
Elia Bosshard: Oh, this is so fun.
Ira Ferris: Ok, so first of all, where are we now?
Elia Bosshard: We are in the kitchen of my home, in Glebe.
Ira Ferris: And so the sound that we were hearing for quite a long time was the sound of the fridge, which might go on any moment again.
Elia Bosshard: And the clock. That's never the right time.
Ira Ferris: Why?
Elia Bosshard: Oh, well, because when I fix it, for some reason, it stops. And then it'll just start back up again by itself. So, I've just resolved not to fix it anymore.
Ira Ferris: And you choose to keep it rather than get a new clock?
Elia Bosshard: I think because I've got a working clock in the other room. So maybe it makes me walk to the other end of the house.
Ira Ferris: It's showing 12:25 p.m. now and it's actually somewhere around 4 p.m.
Elia Bosshard: Yeah, maybe it's a good way to interrupt any sense of routine. Opens up the day again.
Ira Ferris: Yes.
Elia Bosshard: Actually. One of the artists in the Daily Rituals book was saying that he needs the experience of two mornings in a day in order to be productive. So, he would wake up at 4 a.m., get up, have a coffee and do some work for two hours. And then he'd go back to sleep for another hour and then wake up at seven and have a second morning and be just as productive.
Ira Ferris: Apparently that's actually a better way to go about your day. To have shorter sleeps, but more regular. So, this eight-eight-eight regime is not necessarily the most natural, or the healthiest way. Do you nap?
Elia Bosshard: Oh, I've tried. I think it's a really good thing to do.
Ira Ferris: Do you find it easy to fall asleep during the day?
Elia Bosshard: I never fall asleep 100%. Do people fall asleep when they nap?
Ira Ferris: Yeah.
Elia Bosshard: Really? Oh, that's amazing. No, I couldn't do that. It's more like just a rest, with your eyes closed.
Ira Ferris: So you don't dream or you don't go into dream state?
Elia Bosshard: Oh yeah. Yeah, I do that.
Ira Ferris: That's sleep, no?
Elia Bosshard: Well, I think when you dream... I think you can dream at different points of sleep, can't you? Like you can do deep sleep dreaming and then you can do light sleep dreaming. Which is where it happens to me. Yeah, I dream way too much. It's very tiring.
Ira Ferris: I'm curious now, how do you define sleep?
Elia Bosshard: Um, just complete nothingness.
Ira Ferris: So you don't dream when you sleep?
Elia Bosshard: No, that's another activity I would say.
Ira Ferris: Oh interesting. Because my most precious rest and sleep, when I know that I have fully relaxed, is when I dream.
Elia Bosshard: Really? How interesting.
Ira Ferris: Yeah. When I'm still stressed and I don't feel like I have slept properly, I don't dream.
Elia Bosshard: Do you feel that you're active in your dreams or is it something that you can just watch?
Ira Ferris: Yeah, I can just watch. It's like my psyche unfolding. So, I feel I'm in a good space when that's happening. Maybe not in a good space in a sense that everything is good in life. But I'm in good mental space, in a way, when my psyche is able to process things, even if they're ugly or disturbing or whatever. It's almost like I worked during my sleep, but in a good way, like I've been letting this psychological mess wash out.
Elia Bosshard: Are you aware of your dreams when you wake up?
Ira Ferris: Not always. But often. And I can't remember details, but... Yeah. Do you keep a dream diary or anything like that?
Elia Bosshard: I tried it, but it's too hard to keep up and I don't really read into anything that I dream. It's sort of like watching a movie; it's just fun but I don't feel any need to record it.
Ira Ferris: Mmmm… I can hear the birds now. It's nice. Because we are next to the garden. And there is, I assume, on a sunny day a lot of natural light entering this space.
Elia Bosshard: Yeah, it becomes really bright in here. We've got the two skylights behind us as well and they bring in a lot of natural light. And I would say that the birds are pretty much on time because they do fly over around this time every afternoon and sometimes there's a kookaburra that stops in the tree. Our neighbour has a huge jacaranda tree and a lot of the birds like to visit there. I'm glad they have that tree. Even though our garden is quite nice, it's more tropical and less native plants, which is a bit annoying. But anyway, sometimes we get some birds. Yeah, ... But I think the birds have their own schedules, which I can kind of follow a little bit more now.
Ira Ferris: And what is the shape of this space?
Elia Bosshard: Well, like most rooms, it's a quadrangle of a kind. It's got four walls and it's connected to a corridor. It's got a ceiling which is on a slight angle. So, from the garden, it's lower and then the beams run higher into the corridor and into the rest of the house.
Ira Ferris: Is there anything unusual about this space?
Elia Bosshard: Oh, this is a pretty haphazard sort of house, so there's a lot of unusual things about it.
Ira Ferris: What was that sound?
Elia Bosshard: Oh, that's our neighbour, Gale. He's wonderful. He's full of experiments. We don't really know what he does, but... Since we moved into the house, we hear all sorts of strange sounds coming through the walls. And I mean, it really makes you conscious of how close your neighbours are. Like, they're just a wall away, just a simple wall. But, so many sounds. Like one particular sound was really confusing. It was like a sandpaper when you're sending something down, that sort of sound just for hours and hours and then you get these other clues, like at the front of his house, he has buckets full of pebbles and one day I come out of the house and there was water coming from underneath his front door and spilling down, like a whole fountain of water, just spilling down the front steps and then into the street and down the gutter. And it just kept splashing downtown for ages. And I mean, this has happened quite a few times. And anyway, we did ask him once, what are you doing? What are you working on? We found out he used to be a builder, but he didn't tell us what he was working on at the moment. He just said, oh, just experiments and then went inside. And that's all we could learn. But yeah, he is very busy. It's quite nice actually to have such an active...
Ira Ferris: Maybe he's a sound artist.
Elia Bosshard: Oh I love just interpreting ... Like, yeah, everyone can come up with their own theory of the sources of the sound and activities. [laughs] Quite a mystery.
Ira Ferris: I enjoy being in this space. It's very relaxing. We're sitting at your kitchen table having cups of turmeric tea and it's nice.
Elia Bosshard: Do you find... You were asking me about the shape of this space, but I'm realizing it's actually quite difficult for me because I'm so familiar with it. And, I guess, this is your first time here so you probably have a better sense of this space than I do because you're seeing everything for the first time and having that initial response.
Ira Ferris: Yeah, well, the thing my eyes are drawn to is this cut in the wall. And I can't see where it goes to. Like what's behind the coffee machine? I'm just leaning now to see but... Is it another wall?
Elia Bosshard: Um, yeah. There's a very small little courtyard which you can access from the other bedroom. And there's a plant out there and there's also...
Ira Ferris: Oh it's a window.
Elia Bosshard: Yeah. It connects to the neighbour's room and then it also connects to the bathroom.
Ira Ferris: Neighbour's room? Isn't that your room?
Elia Bosshard: Oh, that's our room. And then this brick wall here goes to the neighbour's place.
Ira Ferris: So that's the thing I like in this space. Because from this perspective where I am sitting, I couldn't figure out what it was and it intrigued me. So that's the thing that's unusual, the space is not fully walled.
Elia Bosshard: Yeah. There's a lot of glass in this room, actually.
Ira Ferris: Yeah. And then I'm also noticing the colour of the doorframes, the big glass doors that are looking at your garden. It's something in between blue and grey.
Elia Bosshard: I think maybe part of it is age as well. I think it's that blue that was probably quite nice, but it's that grey of age and dust.
Ira Ferris: I quite like it. It doesn't make it look dark or dull because there is all this light entering in. Everything else is quite white, so it's just that feature that's different, so that's why it stands out. It's a bit like being on a boat. That Mediterranean feel, I guess.
Elia Bosshard: Yeah. Yeah. That blue against the white, gives that sort of lightness. Especially with all the natural light as well. And it frames an outdoor area where there's lots of green. Maybe that's part of it too; we're tying it into the colours outside as well.
Ira Ferris: What space in your house do you spend most time in?
Elia Bosshard: That's tricky... Only because I spend time between two workspaces and it's not the studio. It's the kitchen table here and also there's a desk in our front living room. I probably ... Yeah, probably the front room. The front livingroom. At the window. At the desk at the window.
Ira Ferris: Which is what you spoke about. It's that horizon in some way, that openness?
Elia Bosshard: Yeah, it's that possible connection with the outside world, but still being contained within my own safe space.
Ira Ferris: Do you differentiate between place and space?
Elia Bosshard: Yes. Yes, definitely. Yeah. I mean, very simply, space is somewhere that's abstract, that has no meaning or no connection. It's just... I hesitate to use the word 'empty' because I don't think any space is empty, but it's empty of a human impression. Whereas a place is... well, it has meaning to someone. Or it has culture, or history.
Ira Ferris: So, in a way, while there are lots and lots of spaces around Sydney, there are only some spaces that are places to you; that mean something to you.
Elia Bosshard: Yeah, that's exactly right. And somewhere that's a place for me would be a space to someone else. So, an area, for lack of a better word, can be both a place or a space, depending on who's approaching it or experiencing it. This is why it's very frustrating with, you know, developers, because they see empty, in their eyes an empty space and think, oh, great, that's a piece of land that I can do something with; I can gentrify it without realizing that it is actually a place for someone else. And that's where conflict arises.
Ira Ferris: And so place is a space of care.
Elia Bosshard: Yeah. Yeah, absolutely.
Ira Ferris: Who is allowed to come into this space?
Elia Bosshard: I can answer it generally or I can answer it in a more philosophical sense of recognizing that home is a safe space. So, who do you allow into your home? I suppose I would allow many people to come into my home. I would hope to be welcoming. But at the same time, I wouldn't describe myself as being an overly social person, and so perhaps I'm hesitant to invite many people over. It's probably the best way that I can approach that. I wouldn't say that I have set rules. I don't know if people have set rules about who you would allow. I guess you just sort of think about it in the moment when it happens. If someone new is coming to your home, you're either okay with it or you're not.
Ira Ferris: Yeah, and I guess newness to the home can arrive only through someone you know. You know, if you're inviting a friend and they bring a partner, that might be a person that you know nothing about and that's kind of a surprise factor that's otherwise not really available in the space of home.
Elia Bosshard: Do you ever have people come and knock on your door and try to talk to you about whatever organization they're representing, which I think is a very, very brave thing to do? That can be a confronting situation, I think.
Ira Ferris: Yeah, I hate it. I don't have it happen often, luckily, but I don't really want to open the door to a knock that I don't know. If I'm not expecting a knock, I'll be the kind of person that might not react at all. And I thought about that. Why is that? I feel one of my earliest memories is, you know, your parents saying ... And I lived in an apartment because it's mostly how we live in Croatia. But I remember when my mum would go out and if I stayed alone at home as a child, she would say, don't open the door whoever is knocking. So, my initial reaction is to hide and breath quietly for a few minutes until they leave. [laughing]
Elia Bosshard: Oh, that's so interesting to think about. Because that's actually an important difference in terms of space affecting how we welcome people. You said you lived in an apartment and what's separating you from the outside world is just a door. Unless... Did you have a window in the door or?
Ira Ferris: We had balconies.
Elia Bosshard: Oh.
Ira Ferris: Yeah, I was lucky to have balconies and windows.
Elia Bosshard: So, despite your mother's warning, it sounds like if you did get a knock on the door, it would probably be a friendly knock from a neighbour?
Ira Ferris: Well, somehow I didn't think it would be because of the warning, I guess. Yeah, my first choice would be to panic. Then sometimes I would sneak to the door quietly so nobody can hear that somebody is actually in there, and I would check who it is through the spy hole. Or, I would kind of just stay frozen in a space and then the person would say 'hello! it's neighbour!' But still even then, your parents would tell you to be cautious... Oh, it's like Home Alone movie. They would still say, be careful, have a look through the spy hole and see whether it's really a neighbour because somebody could say they're a neighbour but lie. It's like a Red Riding-hood story as well. Like who can you trust. So, I just develop this fear of the foreign knock on the door.
Elia Bosshard: Actually, it's so funny we are talking about this because I just remembered I had an experience with this recently where we had some friends over for dinner. They left and I just changed into my pyjamas and I was settling down to watch a movie. It was probably like only 10:00 at night and someone knocked on the door and I was like, what?! This never happens; who is this? And I had the same reaction as you, I was hiding. I sort of froze. I didn't know what to do. And then I was like, oh, well, argh,... And we've got a big door, solid wood, you can't see through it, but there's a window next to the door, so I just went to the window and looked out and all I could see was this tall man in a dark hood. So, I was like, oh my god, what do I do? What do I do? And I felt hesitant to call out: 'who is it?', which would have been a normal, perfectly sensible thing to do. But I had in the back of my mind, surely this can't be a strange person; it's most likely a friend. And if it is a friend, I wouldn't want to offend them by acting really stupid and scared. So, I took a chance of opening the door without determining who was on the other side. And it was the same friends who were at dinner and they had sent a message which I hadn't seen, saying they were coming back to drop something off. And that experience made me think so much about these things like risk and trust, and how do you even navigate that situation when it doesn't happen so often. Yeah, how do you protect your sense of safety? And I probably should... I would say in the future, I'm going to say: 'who's there?', even if it's a friend.
Ira Ferris: Oh, I would have thought that your take from that experience would be: OK, I can have trust; it's safe.
Elia Bosshard: No. [laughs]
Ira Ferris: I mean, I love that in the past people would not even lock their doors. So, if you needed a flour or something, you could just walk into your neighbour's and borrow some. So, people trusted each other. And this idea of locking the door, and fear and everything, evolved in our modern societies. And, yeah, it's... It's sad.
Elia Bosshard: Yeah. I think it's sad that trust isn't there. But I also think it's part of human nature. There's a humanist geographer who writes on this really articulately, Yi-Fu Tuan. He wrote The Landscapes of Fear, and he brings together different tangible landscapes, as well as the psychological landscapes that we associate with these spaces. And at the end of the book he writes that no matter how many structures we build for us to be safe in togetherness, the source of our greatest sense of fear is the fear of other people. And it's a paradox that we can't ever escape. That struck a chord with me. I definitely feel a sense of the fear of people is being our greatest human fear.
Ira Ferris: That's interesting. I'd have to think about that because we also have innate need for socializing, right, which is kind of what's been talked about a lot in this Covid time when we are meant to fear other people, physically, because of the virus. Everyone is our enemy at the moment because of this invisible thing. And yet this separation really affects our mental health, or emotional health. But, to change the topic a little... Another thing I have noticed is that... So, I've been looking at your Instagram in preparation for the interview and I have noticed few things. One was a project that really interests me, and we can come back to that, the project with configurations of chairs and configuration of space with chairs. But before we go into that, I also noticed one of your latest posts was a post of nature which is unusual for you. All the previous posts were about indoor spaces, and then there was this one which was I think first post of yours, I have seen, of nature.
Elia Bosshard: I know, that's quite rare. [laughs] I guess, even though I love nature and I spend a lot of time outside, it's a different experience being in a constructed space to being in a natural space. And we definitely need to experience both in order to exist or feel comfortable. Yeah, that was... That was a nice change.
Ira Ferris: I was wondering if something shifted for you; has your relationship to nature changed since the lockdown?
Elia Bosshard: I don't think so. I grew up near the Blue Mountains, so I've always had that access to open space. A lot of my friends had property, so it would be pretty normal to go hang out, go through the fields or bush walks. So that's always been a part of my life. But, I guess, in the last few years, being in the middle of the city, I focused more on enjoying constructed spaces and observing those. But, you know, it's that need for contrast. I think it's that juxtaposition of space that can really highlight the special parts of each and all the purposes of each in your life. And that bushwalk I posted was really nice. I did it with my parents, which is really fun because they're very observant people. I haven't been on a bushwalk with them for a long time and this is the first time I realized we all had our own cameras and I noticed that my parents had every so often diverted from the path in different ways and I was still standing on the path, looking at this rock next to me. And then we were all bending over, taking a photo of something, like a close up. And yeah, there was just something really nice about noticing how we were all on the same walk, following the same path, but diverting and creating this experience of discovery for ourselves individually. I mean, I don't think you can do that only in nature; I think you can do that anywhere, in the city as well. But I guess it depends on what you're attracted to in that moment. That's what happened.
Ira Ferris: Yeah, it was just such a stand-out on your Instagram because of this openness and greenness in between all these chairs and constructed spaces. It was really visible. But what about... Yeah, tell me a bit about this project with chairs, which exists only on Instagram, as far as I'm aware. So, you're using Instagram as a kind of a gallery space?
Elia Bosshard: Yeah. At the moment I'm calling it the Assembly of Arenas, and I started doing these maybe two years ago, just playing around. And it stemmed from this idea of wanting to create models or articulate the spatial relationships between performance areas and audience areas. So, my first set up of these little model chairs, was your conventional theatrical setup. So, an amphitheatre seating arrangement, in the round arrangement, and end on theatre space. So just sort of cycling through these. I probably think of them as sketches still at this stage. And Instagram was just a nice, easy way to feel like there was an output. And it's just something about the emptiness of the spaces, that there were just chairs. It started creating this sense of something ominous or a kind of darkness in the way that we anticipate how we're going to control people in a space. Not that there's dark intentions in doing that. In fact, it's probably more to keep people safe, but it just got me thinking a lot more about how we do create these structures for ourselves to exist within and what is the balance between creating a space of safety and a space of control?
Ira Ferris: Is that something you started thinking about recently, when Carona started?
Elia Bosshard: I think it's probably always been there, but perhaps has been exposed to my thinking a little more this year with everything happening. I remember an example that a friend told me... He works in OH&S for large events, organizing how large masses of people navigate big spaces. And I think he was helping with maybe VIVID festival. And I remember experiencing the space of VIVID in the first few years of the festival when it was not so busy and it was very easy to walk around the harbor area. You could walk anywhere and explore the works. And then I think I went two years ago or three years ago, and that was the last time. I was like, Oh, I can't do this. Basically, the spatial setup was like, ... You could only walk forwards in one corridor along the harbor and then you had to come back via another corridor that was set up with those impermanent safety barriers. Not only did it feel completely controlling in that you couldn't explore this outdoor space, which we're so used to being able to freely navigate. And especially in an art setting. I think you should have that experience of moving around the space as you want. But it also felt completely unsafe. And coming back to my friend who helps organize these kinds of events. He was saying, it is a completely unsafe space in terms of if something was to happen and people needed to evacuate very quickly, there's actually no exit strategy, like there's no way to escape. So that was interesting to think about how it was intended to help organize crowds, but it can also entrap you at the same time if something went wrong.
Ira Ferris: Yeah, I had the same experience as you. I think it was three years ago that I last went and it felt so claustrophobic. Yeah, just feeling stuck. You had to move at a particular pace, defined by small children and yeah, it was totally horrifying experience. And it's not because I was afraid. I was just agitated by lack of freedom. I just felt trapped.
Elia Bosshard: You can make a game of it if you really want to, ducking and weaving through people.
Ira Ferris: Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Elia Bosshard: But that's a whole different experience.
Ira Ferris: It tested my patience and yeah, I think I started moving a bit more aggressively through the space, just trying to get the hell out of it, forgetting that there is any art around me at all, actually. But yeah, … I have noticed that in your chair-work, Assembly of Arenas, lately you are paying more attention to social distancing, 1.5 meters space, which makes me think that you have been thinking about the future of the spaces of gathering. What are your thoughts on that at the moment? How are we going to assemble again?
Elia Bosshard: Hmm. Yeah, I don't know. I think it depends on how comfortable we feel with risk. I mean, in Europe, they're already holding performances. I don't know if they're doing it in theatres, but … Earlier in the year, I was working at the Deutsche Oper in Berlin, as part of this award that I received and then when Covid started, the opera house closed. All of the opera houses and theatres in Germany closed. And so, I decided to come back home but I've been in touch with them since I've been back. And they've been doing performances for at least, I would say, two months now. And I don't know if they're in the theatre, but they're definitely holding them outdoors and having distant seating. And I mean, it works for them because it's summer at the moment. So maybe as things warm up here and we start to become more comfortable with living with the virus as just an ongoing risk that hopefully we can start to gather in controlled settings. I think it's totally possible. I mean, I was thinking the other day, I'd probably be pretty comfortable going to the movies now and sitting with the mask. I haven't done anything like that for months. I've only been to a gallery, but, I think we need it. I think it's necessary at this point to be experiencing things as groups again. I think when we're away from something, we can forget that feeling of connection. But when you experience it, it's like nothing else, being in a room with other people. It's just irreplaceable. So, I think it would be really good to have an opportunity to do that again.
Ira Ferris: Yeah. I mean, outdoor spaces are a real potential.
Elia Bosshard: I think it's not ideal for everything, but, you know, work with what we've got. And change can be... There's always a positive side to it. Change allows us to discover new things.
AND … A LITTLE BIT MORE
… on spaces and the socio-political relevance of spatial awareness.
Ira Ferris: Your practice is an inquiry into space and constructed frameworks and perceptions of space and place. What would you say is the value of inhabiting the spaces in more alert ways? And by that I mean being more aware of how we relate to space, where our bodies are in the space. What is the socio-political effect of that kind of awareness?
Elia Bosshard: I think it comes down to the social connections; places being structures we build for ourselves to exist within, but also what we construct to connect within as well. There's this work that the sculptor Richard Serra did in the 80s. The one that he did through a plaza in the middle of all these bankers and accountant buildings, corporate organizations. And normally you'd come out of the office and you'd be able to experience this open space, but his work completely cut across the open space and it created this jarring effect. And after three years, there was just so much public protest that they took the work down. And while it's, of course, disappointing to see a work go, I think it was a great example of how when we construct space and when we make structures, we do them in a way that is very human focused in that they're there to aid our navigation or aid our comprehension of our context or the world around us, or to create space to meet other people or space to avoid other people. But there's definitely purpose in the way that we construct space. And maybe another part of that is if we spend time with the space and can observe its construction, then maybe we would feel less inclined to knock it down and create something new. And I personally feel that a lot of spaces are wasted that way. And I mean, we already create so much rubbish in the world. And why not examine a structure and find a way to incorporate it into something new rather than just knocking it down. And also, space is so connected to our histories as well. Even this house, I don't know its history, but I can gather a lot of the history from just looking at the shapes of it. The front room is definitely the oldest. It's been here for over one hundred years. And you can tell by the high ceilings, the fireplace... Just simple details, the bricks, the sandstone steps, and then the shape of the house becomes more modern as you walk through it. But it's quite haphazard so I can see that it was probably the homeowners who built it themselves. So, there's that really human element to the building as well, because it's a bit crooked and it's got these details like all the bricks in the kitchen, a few have love heart symbols in them. And that feels like a very personal touch, just little details like that. If you spend time anywhere enough looking around, you're going to find things that are interesting, and that will make you create a story for that space. And so space becomes a place, which means it has meaning for us.
Ira Ferris: I also feel that spaces are connected to wellbeing. So, to become conscious of how spaces can affect our mental, emotional, psychological states is freeing in a way, because we can in some ways take control over that. So, we are given a space, it makes us feel unwell, first of all, we have to become conscious of that. Why are we feeling unwell? And sometimes it is because of the space. And then we can maybe, like you were doing with your room, reconfigure it. Sometimes just changing something internally, through that reconfiguration of space, can make a difference to our wellbeing.
Elia Bosshard: Yeah, that's great. I love that. That's so true. It does give you that sense of control if you can recognise what the structure is and that you have the power to change it.
Ira Ferris: Yeah. Because you said how the construction of the space can aid our relationships or our movement, and I was a bit more... I guess, I had a bit more negative view on than, in terms that it can also manipulate our inter-corporeal relationships. Because it's a fine line between aid and manipulation, depends in whose hands the construction is. So, it's important to be aware of that. It can be either or, and we have agency to change our spaces, to some extent at least. Of course, sometimes there's a limit to that. But mmm, yeah...
Elia Bosshard: Yeah, that's exactly right.
ALL THE IMAGES USED ABOVE ARE FROM ELIA’S PRACTICE.
YOU CAN FIND OUT MORE VIA HER:
WEBSITE: eliabosshard.com
INSTAGRAM: @elia.bosshard