Nicole Jacobs - Creative Process Blog
I cannot pretend as though I possess a creative process that fits nicely into a compact little box, ready to be opened and applied to whatever I am working on. For me, there is no formula. No surefire way of accessing my creativity—or at least a version that consistently satisfies me. Maybe one day this will come, or maybe not. I think that it might be better that way.
Of one thing I am certain—this work has allowed me to access something within myself that continues to pique my curiosity.
A collection of five table lamps and two free-hanging light bulbs, in a grey dance studio. Photo by Nicole Jacobs.
It began with a small obsession over the number of lamps that existed in my shared living room and the moods they helped create. It was always the central gathering spot of that apartment, witnessing endless nights spent both alone and in limited company—crocheting, laughing, crying, playing, dreaming, mourning, scheming, and celebrating. This apartment marked the end of more than three years of nomadic living and the beginning of a completely different way of life. I never wanted to make a work about the pandemic. However, at its core, this work is really not about that at all. Nevertheless, an undeniable connection exists between my lamps and the experiences lived in that space during Québec’s 5-month-long pandemic induced curfew.
A screenshot of the Emergency Alert regarding Quebec’s curfew.
I have always been compelled by the internal workings of the human mind. I enjoy quietly attempting to decipher people and trying to understand the complex processes behind how they operate. While living in lockdown isolation, I found myself grappling with many conflicting emotions and internal contradictions. Alone in the Living Room served as an opportunity for me to dig into the various facets of myself, observe and embody them as characters, both in isolation and relationship to one another. The term “characters”, in this context, represents the various emotional states and facets of the self that I sought to explore. Each nuanced use of light and darkness was a deliberate attempt to give these characters a visual presence, allowing them to manifest and dissolve within the performance space. My use of shadow and varying tones and intensities of light are directly linked to each characters unique expression and the emotional shifts within the performance.
A woman in a striped shirt, holding wires conected to five different lamps, slowly descends to the floor. She drags the lamps slowly towards her, and finishes with them near her head as she lays away from the camera. Video by Nicole Jacobs.
My desire to work with lamps was also born out of the frustration I felt when trying to light previous works for performance. Before this piece, I had only ever had the opportunity to collaborate with a lighting designer for an hour or so before showing a work that I had spent many months carefully curating. Something about the end result always felt contrived to me, but I knew that it was of no fault to the lighting designer themselves. In fact, the lighting designer, Guillaume Roberts-Cambron, who lit a previous work of mine (the one that sparked my initial frustration), later became an essential collaborator for Alone in the Living Room. I desired not only the understanding of how to effectively communicate my vision to collaborators, but to also have the opportunity to experiment with lighting for an extended amount of time. With this, I decided to gather as many lamps as I could, and head to the studio after dark.
Nicole is seen dancing with a light bulb that hangs above her, and moves up and down, as if on it’s own. It appears that the bulb is directing her movement. Video by Guillaume Roberts-Cambron.
The excerpt of Alone in the Living Room presented at Here&Now more closely resembles the very first “low-tech” version of the work. Just myself, with many lamps and tricks of light and dark. Over time, Guillaume and I have evolved the performance, incorporating an overhead lighting installation composed of twelve individually controlled pendant lights. Without revealing too much—it has been an absolutely wondrous experience living out my technical residency dreams with the development of this piece. It has marked me with an enduring fascination with light, and the insatiable desire to continue pushing it further.
Nicole and Guillaume sitting in front of the set of Alone in the Living Room; light bulbs and lamps scattered throughout the blackbox stage. Photo by David Wong.
Come see Alone in the Living Room at Here&Now, March 20th-22nd at the Art Gallery of Hamilton
Subsidized tickets always available upon request. Click here to fill out a form.