pill packets, staples
Displacement activity 9, 2017, detail, pill packets, staples
(Click for full image)
I have been collecting empty pill packets for a while. I’m interested in them for several reasons. I have to regularly take tablets myself so I gather a few a month; if I’m unwell, of course, the pile grows. I have also discovered, through this strange collecting obsession, that a number of dear friends have to take many tablets every day to stay well. It is subsequently very poignant when I receive their latest stash, a bag or bundle of pill packets. It feels like some sort of ritual of care as we remember together and feel grateful for these medications that keep us alive.
I find the actual packets visually interesting, they are the same but different. They change form when the pills are popped out of them, curving as the surface tension changes, already becoming sculptural. It also interests me that I can elevate something that would normally be discarded by incorporating it into art. The ultimate in recycling? I also really like their associations with bodies.
Displacement activity 9, 2017, detail, pill packets, staples
(Click for full image)
In September 2017 I took part in a month-long residency with Synecdoche - [dis]place at The Vestibules in Bristol. Unfortunately, for the previous 6 weeks I had been manically knitting for a deadline and had damaged my wrist, so I couldn’t knit for a while. I was bereft! Instead I embarked on a series of site responsive research projects which I called Displacement activity:
Sculpting with pill packets and a stapler was Displacement activity #9. I needed to do things that could be easily interrupted as I often had to stop what I was doing to talk to visitors or other artists or sort things out so I took my collection of pill packets…. and a stapler! I started hand stitching the packets together with red thread but soon realised it wasn’t immediate enough so I started stapling them together instead.
I love the idea of a staple being a stitch. I like the gestural nature of stapling, although it was trickier than I originally thought. It’s very cathartic - rhythmic, repetitive and definitely fits my state of flow criteria so meditative too! The process of stapling was like the narrative of someone’s ill health or pain. It feels precarious, like ineffectual mending. It’s like making a patchwork; the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. It becomes something ‘other’. It’s alchemy; the pill packets are transformed through a mundane process. I am making public things that are normally private.
For a snapshot of me stapling pill packets (and the residency generally), have a look at Francis Martin's [dis]place finissage 2017:
I also found it was a talking point for visitors; I had some poignant conversations about dependence on medication and ill health. They are a provocative material – many people were attracted to the finished piece because it sparkled and then were shocked or delighted when they saw what it was made from.
Here are some of the things that people said about it:
‘That’s my life. Right there.’
‘It looks like something else and then you get close and recognise what it’s made of.’
‘Oh! Thanks for reminding me. I need to take my tablet.’
‘It’s like a dalek…. Or a suit of armour.’
‘It makes me think of armour, protection. You could make a jacket.’
It was also a wonderful environment to experiment with hanging and photographing the sculpture that I made. It’s hard to see this piece as finished, but maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. I still have a growing collection of pill packets and plan to do more with them so time will tell….
Update 2018: Renamed as Pharmacopoeia, I installed this piece as part of 'Subversive Surfaces' at Town Hall Arts, Trowbridge in June 2018
Pharmapoepia, 2017, installed at 'Subversive Surfaces' at Town Hall Arts, Trowbridge in June 2018
(Click for full image)
Update September 2024: For more sculptural experiments with pill packets, see Pharmacopoeia 2, 2024. This time I used stitch.