Auntie Gravity
c. Michael St.Mark 2011
From the “Postcard from Planet Siluria” genre.
Just out of sight, a washing-up liquid bottle labelled ‘Queasy’.
( click to expand the sensation, max recommended viewing time c. 15 seconds )
As a child between the ages of about 9 to 14, Auntie M. would make a habit of visiting us each and every Sunday after lunch.
She’d be slunk low into the big soft lounge bay window armchair, endlessly holding forth ’til father made his excuse to leave ( typically “going to see a man about a (pub) dog” ). Mother would then reluctantly assume the role of a listening post for hours on end for a rambling monologue on all the local tittle-tattle and life’s injustices ( towards her naturally ).. of the previous week.
Auntie would usually get through five or six cups of tea from the same Cartland-pink floral bone china cup that mother kept ensconced away for these “special occasions”.
Rainy day Sundays were the worst – trapped indoors and with the afternoon wearing on excruciatingly slowly a distinct sense of queasiness would creep up on me, eventually inducing intense irritability and deep desire to see the back of ‘auntie chatterbox’ – til the next weekend.
The sensation experienced by this found/arranged objects kitchen image recaptures surprisingly well this Sundays-with-auntie childhood experience.
Maybe it rocks your seasick boat too?
M. St.M
St.Mark@LondonDada.com
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UPDATE 2018
Possibly a first in art history; this London Dada Work, Auntie Gravity (2011 ) reoriented to portrait viewing mode to create a new and more impactful Work, titled Aunty Gravity ( 2018 )
* This Work ( Auntie Gravity ) is featured and its purport elaborated and explained on the official
London Dada website here
LONDON DADA 
I’m sure you are right and a lot of the dears came for the company as much as the hairdo—-of course with my scintillating chat and wonderful ‘listening ear’ why else would they have come? it certaily wasn’t for me being modest :))
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I am sure you provided the highlight of many an old dears’ day, in more ways than one 🙂
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Whoa! it’s like being on board a ship lurching about in a force 9 gale 😀
There is probably an ‘Auntie Rose’ in most families, floral bedecked and coiffered to within an inch of her blue rinsed, tightly permed hair. They love nothing better than hitching up their ample bosom and nattering about anything which pops into their head.
In fact come to think of it i had many an ‘Auntie Rose’ under my expert care during my hairdressing days 😀 Lovely old dears but oh so mind numbingly boring that a cup of tea in a floral china mug would have been a welcome diversion :)))
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Did you ever think sometimes the dears were seated in your chair more for the chatter/natter than for the hair faff?
It was the floral cup that invoked auntie in this case rather than diverted from.
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It makes me feel queasy looking at it. I love the placement of the cup very auntie looking…
very anti gravity!!! love it!
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Thank you Chris!
As a young child still tied by mother’s apron strings to the house, we used to have Auntie Rose call by every few days for a natter. She would invariably be dressed Cartland-style in the obligatory pink floral dress and drank our PG Tips relentlessly from the family bone china ‘cuppaware’ – which were also floral-themed – while holding forth in a rambling monologue on the fresh intricacies in her daily life, for hours.
Auntie’s presence used to make me feel agitated and nauseous all at the same time.
This simply arranged setting, photographed at the optimum angle, I found invoked the Auntie Rose experience to a tee.
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It’s about Auntie Gravity.
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‘Protest’ – is that what it’s about? ‘Auntie’ – ? I guess not doing it for the money helps.
A xx
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