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The dreaded Flock Machine. The long cable is attached to a hopper where the nylon flock goes. The power source puts about 20 million volts through it and the flock, forced through the grid of the hopper by compressed air, comes out in perfect parallel sprays to embed in the adhesive. By mixing colours, varying the flock length and other arcane and secret processes know only to me and the master, a variety of textures and colour effects can be obtained, similar to the pointillists and Van Gough. Think tri-chromatic scale, enough said. I spent days with my hair standing on end from the static, shitting myself in case I got a belt, waving the hopper around till it arced on something metal, no masks so a lung full of nylon. I thought of suing Ivor because I've now got emphysema, but as I've been smoking since I was 14 and the last thing you ever want to do is take on Ivor with lawyers, I magnanimously let it ride. Ivor, if you ever read this, you bastard, you owe me at least half a lung. |
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I might be getting my times mixed up but I know this piece was shown in '73. It had been cast in plaster then a male was made in fibre glass. All the underhangs were full of bits of plaster which had to be chipped out with a fucking winkle pin, my first job. Then little holes drilled in it so that leaves made of cloth with extended wire stems could be threaded on to it. About a million leaves in three different sizes and the bastard wanted it done properly so that it looked right. The foreground was made of styrene covered in latex. I lifted it up at different angles while Ivor poured resin, several colours in the pot not mixed, all over it. The resin moved over it and with Ivor screaming 'Lift that other end up, you Irish bastard', a marbling effect was achieved that was incredibly convincing.
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