Geoff really worries me. I feel like he’s constantly on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
Becky politely asked him how he was and he said
“Oh oh uhm not so good uhm my head’s in a bit of a muddle this time of year, yes so I have to say Geoff no…mumble mumble… “
and then shuffled off nervously.
I have no idea what he says half the time, his sentences occasionally trail off into that PG Wodehouse, very english-english gibberish if you know what I mean.
We were passed around the itinerary for the ICA show as well as the layout plans for our allotted spaces.
He seemed extremely anxious and twitchy as he read out the very extensive and comprehensive list of things to do, occasionally turning back towards Andy and the other tutors as if for encouragement. He continued to twitch and rock back and forth in a slightly autistic way. It was mildly disturbing since last years course leader was a real ball breaker kind of woman.
Then Andy stepped up to take over. Much more the man in control. He stands straight and gives orders with a certain authority that overshadows Geoff entirely.
On the other hand Geoff managed to get the dean to fund our show so we no longer have to shell out a 100 quid of our student bank pittance. (Which is an incredible feat really the entire bill for the ICA venue is £10,000)
After Core time Andy came to the Illustration studio to be faced with my drawing of a woman very graphically giving birth. I got the feeling he wanted to turn it over.
Fernanda began to rattle off a list of demands
“Well, what I neeed for the show is a space where I can hang theese big acrylic prints I maaade and I waant them to be one in front of each other like that and you can see and theeen I want them hanging from the ceiling like that but with some space in front of them like thaat…”
“…yesss ok well theeeen I want another thing to hang my photographs…”
Andy rubs his forehead
“and theeeen I want to built this acrylic coffin light box and the floor so you walk around it and look down into it and you can see the things and then…”
Andy rubs his forehead some more.
Onnalin doesn’t get to see Andy immediately and throws a small tantrum, yelling and stamping her feet at Martyn, then flopping onto a chair and pouting.
Martyn being entirely an unsympathetic man mocks her by imitating her foot stamping and sulking.
Being entirely unsympathetic ourselves, we all laugh