I was interested in how I was using this disc, pinched between the over sized tweezers to provide an extended reach. I have often referred to the magnifying lens (pictured)  in the house at Kettles Yard and the way that it makes the ‘ordinary’ of the plants ‘extraordinary’ through an enlarged view, and a seat to see this shift in focus. In my work, I discuss the significance of the way the lens is a material metaphor for practice, a way to look again, see with more detail, look at the moments that might be missed. Tim Ingold discusses this in relation to practice-based approaches to research as ‘re- search’ and the ability to look again with attention. However, in the Fitzwilliam I had moved from the exaggerated lens to a silencing one (created by the felt disc). At times in order to find our own voice we need to blur or tune down what is around us, find our way in. A territorial act perhaps. This  can be understood as an extension from us and  towards others. The relationship forms between the viewer, and the space of the encounter through the pedagogical art object.
 
I intentionally use this reciprocal prosthetic action between bodies, matter, and objects as the basis for making the pedagogical prosthetics, that is, pedagogical art objects –so mutual entanglements enable the extension of thoughts into things and things into thoughts, a relationship where everything can participate in what Massumi terms as a ‘mutual implication; it is not clear who is used by whom’ (2002, p.106). 

It was lovely to work with students across the university and use some of my objects within the galleries and as conduits between viewer and artwork. There were some interesting conversations that made new links where issues of narrative, identity, death, materiality and architecture were discussed. The Pedagogical Art Objects pulled the individuals in different ways - with the intention being that the subjectivities informed the objects use and the newly tuned relationship with the artworks encountered. The hose pipe and knitting needle object became a weapon and as it was used it became a gun - firing through the multiple poles of needles into the space of the galleries. There is always a balance between the joy of unwrapping the object, the investigation of what it is, the uncertainty of what it might be for, the surprise of what it can do and the actions that the person using it suddenly finds themselves performing.

'They (participant) offered up objects to objects, standing back, testing something...a fit, a resemblance, a link maybe. It was as though the objects were meeting long lost relatives and slowly leaning in for a handshake. It felt like someone trying to match a fabric sample to a garment or a paint sample. The moment that a potential connection was made, they would pause and stay with the pairing like there was magnetic pull between them, and then they would move on. However, if the object failed to link and the potential connection was rejected, the object would be pulled away from a sculpture, painting, or artefact. It was as though the participant was looking for something particular but then failed to find it. It is interesting to question what they were looking for, not knowing before they found it - but the magnet between their object and its material neighbour enables a new resonance - a material charge that quilts itself into the work in the hand and in the space.'

There is a potential mirroring that takes place, in that we look not only for ourselves in the work we see, but also our ideas. The objects in the hand becoming the 'litmus' paper, for the measurement of finding ourselves, and our own voice. The subjective truth that emerges in these moments,  allows the participant to own the thinking that links to the exhibit, not only through their own voice, and thinking, but through the material thinking- a materialised agency that confirms a position. It can 'make' sense happen, although this sensing is in excess of what we are already presented with,  another layer is available.