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TV Guide Household 2013 Edition




[SCULPTURE TRAIL] An installation in the public spaces around the Household area. Use the clues to make your way to the exhibits. They are quiet and may surprise you. Ask a Householder for assistance if required.

Hiding it She feels is best. Shame keeps her smiling While her mind Swims through the tar. She talks to her mother Through the soles of her feet Because she has seen. Showing it She feels is wrong. Joy keeps her morbid While her mind Drags through the meadows. She talks to her lover Through the tips of her fingers Because he cant feel. Who are we kidding.

ready with your back towards satis house breathe up and in step off the front go right or left

walk without thinking keep looking up until the end of walls, houses, pavement breathing steady now if left before - do it again if right - same rules apply.

[CONTENTS] Front Cover...............................................................................Dave Loder 1. Public/Private .................................................................. Jayne Cherry 1. Sculpture Trail ................................................................. Jayne Cherry 2. Dirtbird of the Week...................................Sinéad Bhreathnach-Cashell 3. Icons of the North..................................................................Paula Blair 5. This is no reality show............................................................Dave Loder 7. Icons of the North (cont.).......................................................Paula Blair 9. Levitation............................................................................Stuart Calvin 10. A Quiet Moment..................................................................John D’Arcy Rear Cover...........................................................................Aisling O’Beirn Copyright © 2013 the publishers, authors and contributers. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced without the prior written permission from the publishers and the copyright owners. This publication has been compiled, curated and published by Pollen Studios & Gallery, Belfast, for the 2013 Household arts festival.

24 regular steps - breathing faster if left before - do it again if right - same rules apply now slowly. forward. both sides - find them they are there.



The Lesser-Spotted Street Sweeper is the most suburban bird of all; it lives in abandoned houses and frequents alleyways, embankments and openair cafes – where it will even snatch scraps from people’s plates. A study of feral Street Sweepers revealed that in winter they live almost entirely on bread, chips and crumbs they manage to sweep together. Their nests are also made from sweepings dropped by people with whom they share the streets. There is something of a challenge in tracking them down. They used to be confined to domestic settings but the liveliness which makes the birds amusing to watch, also turns them into clever nuisances at times. They are the chief culprits in sporadic outbreaks of milk stealing. If they get inside a house they may have a mania for tearing paper. Strips are torn from wallpaper and books, newspapers and labels; putty and other objects may be attacked. No one really knows why they do this, but it may be what is known as a ‘dissociated’ hunting activity.


Icons of the North: Myth-making and the Television Archive Artists have created things to be communicated: they have not created communication. [...] Tele-vision is the art of communication itself, irrespective of message. Television exists in its purest form between the sender and the receiver [...and] provides the means by which one can control the movement of information throughout the environment. - Gene Youngblood[1] Since the emergence of video art in the 1960s, many artists have used the technology to disrupt the passivity of viewers of mainstream media, such as cinema and television. Irish-born artist Duncan Campbell’s video installations are examples of works that blur the distinctions between ‘passive’ spectators of mass media and the more ‘active’ gallery goer. Through inventive use of archival footage mixed with fictional elements in the pseudo-documentaries Bernadette (2008) and Make it New John (2009), Campbell reconstructs the mythologies surrounding two iconic personae with brief but phenomenal effects on life in Northern Ireland during the conflict. The reinvented figures are former nationalist MP Bernadette Devlin McAliskey, who made a political impact during the late 1960s and early 1970s, and controversial American car engineer John Zachary DeLorean, whose company’s West Belfast branch produced the famed gull-wing door DMC-12 in the late 1970s to early 1980s. This article explores how Campbell uses the tools, methods and materials of media storytelling to create new myths, and draw attention to our susceptibility as viewers to accept the ‘truthfulness’ of mediated stories. Campbell is based in Glasgow but lived in Belfast for a time. His art is shaped by artistic, literary and cultural influences and the readymade materials that are available to him. In Bernadette and Make it New John, he interrogates documentary and biography by removing the Devlin and DeLorean media ‘players’ from the reality of their peaks in the press spotlight, and placing them in a fictional universe of his construction, which is made possible through footage retrieval. Campbell’s reimplementations of archival material mixed with newly recorded live action and animated sequences afford him several freedoms; while playing with the language of film and television, he also provides

commentary on the ease with which icons are made, exalted and discarded by press and broadcast media. The ingredients of conventional narrative and documentary film are present, such as match-cutting, voiceover and the chronological order of clips, yet the overall narratives of the films are incoherent. The images and audio are often disjunctively sequenced, which exudes a sense of disconnection surrounding Devlin and DeLorean during their significant time periods and political climates. The use of found footage in the films is not simply a link to the past; it connects video art and experimental film-making to the immediacy of television journalism. When filmed, many of the clips featured in Bernadette and Make it New John involved Devlin and DeLorean’s spontaneous responses to questions that were part of regional and national live broadcasts. Such footage is not necessarily intended for use beyond communicating the news story as it unfolds, and only survives through processes of archivization. By re-presenting the material, and re-contextualizing it by splicing it with originally shot footage of his own, Campbell assumes a kind of ownership of it, and to an extent, shares that ownership with the contemporary audience. His reconstitution of televisual material expands Gene Youngblood’s notion (quoted in the epigraph) of controlling the movement of information between the sender and receiver. The stock footage is liberated from its past meaning and placed in association with other materials and textures to form new narratives. Moreover, the act of replaying the footage in itself exudes a sense of renewal. For example, in an examination of Samuel Beckett’s teleplays – whose work is a great influence on Campbell’s – Graley Herren asserts that ‘[t]elevision simultaneously kills and resuscitates that which it records’, and notes that Beckett’s teleplays featured ghosts ‘because all televisual images are essentially traces of the “living dead”’ that become ‘dead artifacts’ which can be ‘reanimated’ at any time.[2] Campbell’s films engage in a process of ‘reanimating’ archival material – dead artefacts – that during their original broadcasts were at once live, dying and dead, and are now transformed into new artefacts, new myths. Political activist Devlin became the youngest woman to win a seat in the Westminster Parliament in 1969 as an independent ‘Unity’

4 candidate for Mid Ulster, which she held until 1974. She was a member of the People’s Democracy, a socialist group originating among students of Queen’s University Belfast in 1968, and took part in many marches organized by the Northern Ireland Civil Rights Association during this period. Her passion for her cause was often exhibited publicly, particularly when she was sentenced to a six-month jail term for incitement during the Battle of the Bogside in Derry in 1969, and again when she punched the British Home Secretary, Reginald Maudling, in response to his comments during a Commons sitting the day after Bloody Sunday in 1972. Since losing her seat in parliament, she has remained active in supporting marginal members of the community, including interned prisoners in the 1980s and immigrant workers today. DeLorean’s story intersects with Ireland’s strive for modernity, for which the ‘colonial exchange’ of commerce was seen as a viable solution. The ‘civilizing mission’ of the DeLorean Motor Company was one of ‘corporate finance rendered in startling material form’ in the stainless steel DMC-12.[3] DeLorean had risen through the hierarchy of General Motors in the USA, but left inexplicably in 1973 and started his own company with investment loans in 1975. After an extensive search for a location that provided cheap labour and an appropriate factory site with the possibility of state subsidy, DeLorean set up a branch of his company in Dunmurry in 1978. The British government had secured an arrangement to situate it in Northern Ireland in an endeavour to create jobs that would address the region’s high rate of unemployment while endeavouring to undercut recruitment to paramilitary organizations. This proved to be both a misunderstanding of the nature of the Troubles, and misguided faith in the ‘inveterate fantasist’, DeLorean.[4] The car, now immortalized in Back to the Future (Zemeckis, 1985), had severe design flaws, frequent recalls and poor sales. This, along with controversies among the heads of the firm, led to the company’s bankruptcy and closure in 1982. Several months later, DeLorean was arrested for his involvement in drug smuggling, but was acquitted two years later as the case was found to be an FBI sting. When he died in 2005, he was still wanted for questioning in the UK on fraud charges.[5] What is interesting about these two figures, and perhaps why Campbell chose them as subjects for two of his films, is the tension between their private and public lives. Devlin and DeLorean had as much of a hand in creating their public personae as the media did. Devlin in particular attempted to construct the public narrative of her own history through both her self-representation in countless television appearances and public demonstrations, and the written word. Her autobiography, The Price of My Soul (1969), sees the author in conflict between her political duty and how the subsequent public intrusion on her life compromises her identity as an individual. Richard Kirkland points out that Devlin manages to objectify herself in her ‘self-perception as a “phenomenon”’ – a process linked to identitarianism that ‘indicates the creation of an identity position that is fully explicable by seemingly abstract historical and material forces and one that, as a result, demands the rejection of extraneous personal detail as an irrelevance’.[6] Campbell’s Bernadette visualizes this rejection of personal detail, as well as Kirkland’s observations that a social grouping – specifically in this case, collective nationalism – must ‘renew the images by which it is constituted, and offer as many ways of reforming the self as possible’. For example, in Bernadette, personal detail is omitted due to the non-existence of it in source materials such as The Price of My Soul. It is from the source materials that any personal detail is formed anew, the act of which distances the re-packaging of Bernadette Devlin further

outside the collective nationalism to which she was already peripheral. Campbell has stated that when making Bernadette he found ‘revealing moments in abundance’ when searching through footage of her, that are seen in the many passionate articulations from her during the film.[7] DeLorean was more elusive, as is apparent throughout the film. He is reserved and speaks with calm collectedness, and never expressed a desire to reclaim a self-narrative in the fervent way Devlin still does. However, his charismatic self-presentation in public greatly contrasts his private actions. Where the integration of the autobiography expands the source material in Bernadette, there is no such resource for DeLorean. Instead, Campbell frames the archival footage with fictionalizations that create an impression of what his life may have been as a young man, and to represent the repercussions on others of his brief time in Northern Ireland.

Bernadette unfolds in three disjointed sections that are all indicative of Devlin’s contentious relationship with media portrayals of her. The first section begins in a style similar to Viking Eggeling or Len Lye’s modernist experiments with animated sound. Sporadic beeps match white scratches onscreen, and a loud intrusive buzzer sounds against drawn swirls, establishing an initial, if abstract, connection to noise and momentum seen in Samuel Beckett’s films and plays. The sounds carry into monochromic live action images where the camera moves aimlessly, picking up nearby walls and the ground at too close a range to give a sense of location, only the whitish-grey of concrete. Clicks, buzzing, pops and squeaks are synchronous with visual disruptions, including jump cuts, focus changes and animated black spots and lines. Gradually, parts of a chair and fragments of its occupant appear in the sequence, which becomes intercut with early stock footage of Devlin’s face in extreme close ups. The tight camera angles and film texture of these inserts imply matches with the added material, which was filmed thirty years later using a stand-in. This illusion inherent to film production gives a believable, if disjointed, depiction of a youthful Devlin. The inserts of the real Devlin are taken from intermittent moments during televised interviews. In appropriating these images, Campbell removes her from past contexts while revealing the contrivances involved in the recording process. As well as seeing what should not be seen, the audience is denied the natural flow of typical televised shot-reverse-shot interviews. Make it New John develops over four sections, beginning with an abstract fictionalized account of DeLorean’s childhood, and then his adolescence spent steeped in 1940s/50s Californian culture – cars, girls, beaches and surfing – set to the summery sound of ‘Little GTO’ by Ronnie and the Daytonas. This is followed by DeLorean’s introduction to the car manufacturing industry coinciding with economic crises and fuel shortages, his prosperous beginnings in Belfast, the subsequent contentions with the British government and, finally, in DeLorean’s absence, a depiction of the staff protests upon the demise of the DeLorean Motor Company’s factory in Belfast. Where Devlin is ‘chopped up’ at the beginning of Bernadette, DeLorean’s childhood interests and experiences are explored in a surrealistic non-dialogue narrative in Make it New John. The beginning depicts the boy’s attention towards his physical appearance by showing him daubing makeup onto his face at a mirror, which immediately evokes notions of the constructed self-image. At times the boy looks directly to the camera, as if to face the public who is observing him. The sequence that follows includes rapid intercutting between a male figure moving


7 towards the camera, the boy wincing, a close up of a shoulder as a checked shirt sleeve tears off, close ups of the boy’s face, mid-shots of him in the mirror and a child’s drawings of supercars, all accompanied by the distant rumblings of a passing train. A vague narrative emerges in a further sequence: the boy solders a self-made device, a man – presumably the boy’s father – shaves, a door slams, the boy falls forward onto a bed wearing the same checked shirt. The frame lingers on him as he looks pointedly over his shoulder, we imagine towards the door, as footsteps approach, which likely belong to an unseen parental figure. The boy runs down a stairway on the house exterior, partly followed by the father who is topless with shaving foam on his face looking on in bemusement or dismay. The scene cuts to a tracking shot of the boy running along a street at night, the dark frame punctuated by lights of shop fronts as he races past. Head-and shoulder-close ups are superimposed with animations and a glowing light bulb as bells clang on the audio, heralding his bright ideas for the future after fleeing from his family. Later, a still of the real DeLorean as a young man is revealed in two stages to draw attention to his features prior to undergoing plastic surgery; his chin looks distinctly different later in the film. The lower half of the posed portrait reveals a small chin and shoulders, while a cut to the upper half of the picture above the chin shows his tanned face and black hair. This revelation reiterates the constructed nature of DeLorean as man, image and brand.

winged car that ‘looks futuristic’ and ‘leaden with potential’, as shown in tantalizing publicity material for the car that in fact ran like ‘an old croc’.[8] The DMC-12 exuded surface glamour while its essential function failed, mirroring later public perception of its creator who had injected the American Dream into Belfast’s working class, only for their jobs and prospects to disintegrate. In a similar way, the middle section of Bernadette races through the portion of her story that played out in the public eye. Devlin’s tension with news media is in evidence throughout; while she claims fervently that they intruded on her personal life, they become useful to her at demonstrations, particularly those addressed directly to the British government and security forces. She interacts with journalists while continuing with her agenda, staying on the move and forcing them to walk with her, or persisting in her addresses to supporters while aware of, but ignoring, the camera. In capturing, and perhaps provoking, her immediate reactions to events – including the aftermath of her assault on the Home Secretary – the media have provided records of British and Irish political history, as well as observations of an individual’s raw commitment to a cause. It is the spectator’s intensive exposure to such captured live instances amid the clearly constructed first and third sections that gives rise to an interrogation of Devlin’s claims of the media’s ownership of her, and her image’s assimilation into public property beyond her control.

The substantial third section in Make it New John largely allows the archival footage to relay the narrative of DeLorean’s incredible intersection with British politics. Not only was the DMC affected by the shift in government from Labour to Conservative in 1979, given the almost constant presence of news crews when DeLorean was in town, the factory site became the backdrop for numerous protests in the early 1980s concerning internment and the Republican hunger strikes. Additionally, the Labour-initiated project that subsidized the factory had an economic focus to ease the high rates of unemployment in Northern Ireland in the mid-1970s. By the time the Tories came to power, it emerged that the company was floundering with the livelihoods of 2000 staff at stake. Throughout this part of the film, former Conservative MP Lord James Prior offers arm’s length support to the DMC. The sequencing of clips that feature him, and the camera’s focus on him during a factory visit, create a sense of vulnerability in DeLorean’s usually charismatic towering figure. Most of the stock footage featuring DeLorean accentuates the media’s fixation with him, yet in a reversal of power, Prior attracts all the attention whenever he is present. The way in which Campbell sequences the appropriated media fragments is of interest; what was filmed in the past with a news coverage agenda holds different connotations in the new context. At first, Prior is wholly supportive, but as time passes and the company struggles, his support waivers and eventually the DMC goes into receivership. When we see Prior emerging from the parliamentary delegation where this decision was made, he is obscured by hoards of press representatives. The wide angle shot of the heavily populated scene depicts the extent of newsworthiness of this event. To consider it in the fictional context of Make it New John, the plethora of cameras and amount of images of Prior being captured simultaneously here, implies multiplicity on his part, and provides an alternative to the negative public opinion of DeLorean’s frivolous conduct – conduct which is indicated in the frequency of interviews given in airports as he queues for Concorde.

The final section of Bernadette implements text from The Price of My Soul with passages read by an actress over transitions between the book’s publicity stills which meld into kaleidoscopic superimpositions of moments cropped from more stock footage. The voice interrupts the reading to berate itself:

The ambivalent constructions of DeLorean as man and company signify both the failure and cult status of which the audience is typically already aware. Campbell notes the paradox of the stainless steel gull-

A. The press – as far as they were concerned I was a mass of flesh which had become public property, and they were entitled at any hour of the day or night to interrupt anything I was doing. They couldn’t understand why I – B. Christ! When did you start saying I to myself to yourself all the time... I... I... and all the time you... you somewhere like someone there you’re there... no one’s there... you are there and you have been there and have not left... there’s no one there. The tangential monologue developed out of Devlin’s autobiography echoes the language style of That Time (Beckett, 1976) which features a man’s voice split in three, and borrows from its text: ‘never the same but the same as what for God’s sake did you ever say I to yourself in your life come on now’.[9] The exchange persists as two versions of Bernadette vie to be heard, the sudden interjections from the second voice puncturing the soft flow of the first, reshaping her into a Beckettian-style character. The voices in the film continue to argue about the past, which indicates that underlying concerns about past actions begin to move into ‘self’criticism: ‘It’s all the same the same except you still here not here exactly but haunting here those scenes only bob up because you let them float’. This schizophrenic tension between ‘you’ and ‘I’ in Campbell’s fabrication of Bernadette, asserts a critical comment on the duality of both the real and created Bernadette characters by adapting the same material used in past processes to generate entirely new versions, or loose interpretations, of her story. The voice ponders on the whereabouts of ‘a simple beginning’ and regresses to outlining disjointed memories of her youth while addressing herself largely as ‘you’. This mediated splitting of

8 Devlin’s personality straddles the public and the private in its guise as a stream-of-consciousness monologue that is part of a publicly screened film. The voice also attempts to psychologize the inability to attain selfknowledge, perhaps as a residual effect of managing public versions of yourself: ‘it was always the same the same old thought in the same old head [...] a voice not your own you don’t know’. Campbell uses a different method in the closing section of Make it New John. Instead of juxtaposing disjointed language and images, he sets up a fictional television interview between a British journalist and five factory workers to examine DeLorean’s disconnection through his abandonment of the failed company. Based on the sit-in protests held by the many of the factory’s staff as it fell into receivership, the film presents conflictions among the workers over who to blame for the factory’s failure. The five men express disparate views, and during their heated discussions, distractions in the off-screen space cause them to dwindle in numbers until one remains. Significantly, the last man sitting is named John (played by Ian McElhinney). He is the most reserved of the group and says next to nothing until the very end of the film when he is provoked by the journalist. Seen in a long take that zooms in and out, John tries to read a newspaper but the unseen journalist persistently questions him. She asks what his wife thinks of the threat to his employment and the plant’s imminent closure, forcing him to confess that he never married. She eventually goads him into explaining that he is alone because he mistreated his fiancée years before, and work is all he has. John’s discomfort is clear and he enquires on the whereabouts of the others. The interviewer directs the camera operator to ‘just keep rolling’ and continues, but John becomes unable to finish his sentences. Connections emerge between the working class John and the depiction of the absent Mr DeLorean, whose real-life circumstances destabilized at this time, and attracted criticism and scrutiny from the news media. The screenplay and staging of the final section is relatively conventional compared to the rest of the film, and indeed all of Bernadette, but the same themes of isolation and disconnectedness emerge, as do ambiguities of character. The end of Make it New John presents the tension between the public and private self in a question-and-answer session where knowledge is sought but only impressions are attained. There are many examples of similarities to Beckett’s range of work in Campbell’s, not only in his formation of characters and use of language. Notably, Herren observes that ‘Beckett heeded Ezra Pound’s clarion call to “make it new” by “making it old anew”’ in his teleplays by broadcasting ‘multilayered, medium-specific confrontations between present and past, perception and memory, subject and object, presence and absence’. When he ‘made it old’ in his broadcasts, it did not mean that they were ‘mired in nostalgia’. Instead, he used ‘mechanical media – first radio, then film, and ultimately television – to serve as memory machines: sites for recollecting and reinventing personal, philosophical, and artistic pasts.[10] Campbell’s experiments with media have followed this model to a certain extent by testing the artistic capacity of radio before merging film and television processes and materials. In these convergences, of which Bernadette and Make it New John are only two examples, Campbell presents motivations similar to those behind Beckett’s ‘memory machines’ – to push technological limitations and offer new views of the past. Herren also refers to Derrida’s observation of the ‘spectral nature of recorded media – never truly there, yet always with us’, which is visualized and verbalized in Bernadette and Make it New John with kaleidoscopes of Devlin’s image, stills that show mirror images of the protagonists’ faces while obscuring

the ‘actual’ face, and the language in the films’ closing dialogues.[11] Campbell’s version of Devlin speaks for herself, and at herself, always in tension with presence and absence. DeLorean increasingly becomes a non-presence who is speculated about, much like his actual presence/ absence during the real time period. Both figures had impacting presence in their times and have left ghostly impressions, fading memories, that are reviewable thanks to television archives, which adds significance to the already ambiguous title of Make it New John. Given his influence by and knowledge of Beckett’s work and processes, Campbell is well aware of Pound’s challenge for artists to ‘make it new’, on which Beckett wrote a response in Disjecta (1983). It confronts the fictional/factual, public/ private ‘Johns’ of the film to bring about change, to alter the present and future by re-interpreting the past. The Bernadette and DeLorean characters are both protagonists who become antagonists by the ends of the films in mythologies derived from real people and events where the factual sources of the past are reshaped into the fictions of floating presents. The spectral presences of both subjects continue to drift in cultural memory, which is aided by the wide accessibility of images and footage of them circulated on the internet. Herren suggests that memory mixes up the past and present images that we carry to a point where images from different sources become indistinguishable and ‘pass for perception’.[12] Although the media followed Devlin and DeLorean almost constantly, their stories were overshadowed by more newsworthy events at the time. As noted, DeLorean’s period in Belfast coincided with the Republican hunger strikes in the early 1980s and the much publicized death of Bobby Sands in the Maze prison. Additionally, the DMC’s closure in 1982 was secondary to coverage of the Pope’s visit to Britain and the Falklands War. The DeLorean Motor Company’s only firm link to cultural memory is the use of the DMC-12 in the Back to the Future franchise. Turning to Devlin, it seems that she features more in online resources than she does in historical texts about the Troubles, even though she played a key role during the emergence of civil conflict in 1968. In their weaving back and forth from presence to absence in cultural memory, the personae of Bernadette Devlin and John DeLorean become notional. They are ghostly traces of versions of the past that struggle to be remembered, and when they are, the memory is selective and almost always mediated. They are there but not really there.

[1] G. Youngblood (1970), Expanded Cinema, New York: Dutton, p. 337. [2] G. Herren (2007), Samuel Beckett’s Plays on Film and Television, New York: Palgrave Macmillan, p. 5. [3] R. Kirkland (2007), ‘That Car: Modernity, Northern Ireland and the DMC-12’, Field Day

Review, 3, pp. 94-107 (p. 97). [4] Kirkland, ‘That Car’, p. 98. [5] Kirkland, ‘That Car’, p. 107. [6] R. Kirkland (2002), Identity Parades: Northern Irish Culture and Dissident Subjects, Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, p. 153. [7] E. Yule (2010), Tramway: Artist in Conversation – Duncan Campbell Part 1, [Online], Available: [4 Jan 2011]. [8] E. Yule (2010), Tramway: Artist in Conversation – Duncan Campbell Part 2, [Online], Available:[4 Jan 2011]. [9] S. Beckett (1976), Ends and Odds: Eight New Dramatic Pieces, New York: Grove Press, Inc., p. 31. [10] Herren, Samuel Beckett’s Plays, p. 1. [11] Herren, Samuel Beckett’s Plays, p. 4. [12] Herren, Samuel Beckett’s Plays, p. 12.






To solve SOO DUH KOO, use the phonemes:

Across 4. Can I come in? (5) 5. Drink energetically (5)

PES, FUL, NES, SAW, LIT, OOD, PRY, VEH, SEE. Each phoneme must appear in each of the nine vertical columns, horizontal rows adn 3x3 boxes.

7. A party beat next door (4) 8. Destroy a page (4) 9. Collision with furniture (4) 10. Whispered, “Rosebud” (4) 11. Escaping air (4)

Down 1. A visitor’s arrival (4,4) 2. Passing seconds (4,4) 3. Bulky boots upstairs (5) 5. Draining sink (6) 6. Quick draw curtains (6) Last week’s answers - Across: 1. Trickle, 3. Click, 5. Slap, 6. Whoosh, 9. Squelch; Down: 2. Snip, 3. Clap, 4.Gnarl, 6. Scratch, 7. Blow, 8. Hum, 9. Squeek.


Find these sounds: bang, eek, gallop, gasp, grind, hum, hump, ignite, mew, nip, pap, pee, pop, rap, ramble, rumble, sob, squeal, tap, tin, wallop

[CRAZY MAZE] Can you find your way out from inside?

TV Guide - Household 2013  
TV Guide - Household 2013  

A curated publication by Pollen Studios & Gallery for the 2013 Household art festival in Belfast.