Julian Gasson

Although I've been a collector (i.e. hoarder) of forgotten objects since before I can remember, the thought to restore these objects only occurred to me after a second year metalwork project which required extensive polishing work (Bedford Level Experiment - Flat Earth, 2012).

A spanner half buried in the sand of a beach near my grand parents' remote fishing cabin was the first object to be polished as such. This discovery also coincided with that of two pieces of shipwreck metal, namely 'knees' (brackets used to secure the deck of a ship to its hull).

These two discoveries formed the basis of an ongoing investigation which would span the next three years. It  would begin with the restoration of a spanner (rusted to within millimetres of existence), lead to a week-long salvage expedition on the South African East Coast, and end with the return of the salvaged objects to the original wreck-site.

Continuing with the theme of suspending restored wreck metal, a decision was made to undergo a salvage expedition and gather as many other articles of wreck metal as possible. These would then be restored and suspended from the ceiling so as to resemble a swarm of bizarre, glittering ocean objects.

The salvage expedition took place over a spring-tide in the middle of winter 2014. The weather went from near tropical calm to a most tempestuous maelstrom which broke during high-tide. This resulted in the greatest rise in water level I'd ever seen at the cabin. 

Fortunately, we were able to recover the wrecked metal articles before the storm broke.

In preparation for transport, the salvaged articles were shod of their outer layer of rust on-site before being wrapped in white medical cloth.

Non-ferrous metals corrode differently to ferrous ones (especially in the case of oceanic submersion) in that tiny hollow tendrils are formed through out the matrix of the metal object. Oxidation of the metal object also causes the formation of an outer layer of chunky sheets of amalgamated rust flakes. Thus the metal object is essentially reduced to a non-flexible sponge encased in a rusty husk.

During transport, water previously trapped in the hollow tendrils leaked out and stained the white bandages. The visual result of this was so overwhelmingly potent - visceral, 'bandaged' objects evocative of limbs with seeping wounds - that the idea of a polished wreck metal mobile was abandoned and a new direction for the artwork pursued.

Owing to the fact that only one of the original wreck metal articles had been polished, a decision was taken to return the articles to the discovery site. This decision was also informed by the strict (and woefully counter-intuitive) heritage laws governing shipwreck salvaging in South Africa.

The need to preserve our oceans surpassed the desire for staging a more 'artistic' intervention. Thus, the articles were stripped of the white bandages prior to being laid to rest. The bandages were kept.