Projection by David McDiarmid

Projection
Detail
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Model
Carbon fibre, balsa and slide mount
models. Set of 40 models.
Each model 5x5 cm.
Detail
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Projection
Installation view.
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Projection
Installation with carbon fibre,
balsa, slide mount models
and 35mm slide projector on plinth.
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Accession
Plaster cast tiles with pigment and
jesmonite inlay, with acrylic and gold
leaf model on plinth.
Varying sizes.
Detail
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Accession
Installation view.
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Abeyance
Watercolour and varnish on cement cast tiles
mounted on gold leaf and pine dowel model
with pillar.
244 x 60 x 40 cm
Details
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Abeyance II
Faux marble cast tiles with gold pigment inlay
with bamboo cane model and plinth
16 x 12 cm
Installation view
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Abeyance II
Installation view
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Megalomania II
Acrylic, pigment and tape on cement cast tiles mounted on board.
160 x 100 cm
Installation view
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Prop II (Basilica)
Plaster cast tiles with pigment and jesmonite inlay
with faux marble cast model on plinth.
54 x 54 x 100 cm
Installation view
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Prop II (Basilica)
Installation view
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Prop II (Basilica)
Detail, installation view
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Archetype
Plaster cast oil prints
125 pieces
each piece 15 x 10 cm
Detail
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Archetype
Installation view
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Megalomania IV
Plaster cast tiles and inlaid faux marble mounted on board.
Diptych, each panel 90 x 60 cm
Installation view
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Projection
Exhibition view
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56
The Wizard of Oz
Peter Chalmers

Pay no attention to that man
behind the curtains.
The Wizard of Oz
All Art, certainly celebrated Art, is
widely accepted to be a response
to reality - directly or indirectly, one
way or another. The earliest known
works of Art, found in the Indonesian
island of Sulawesi, are of hands and
animals - inward and outward looking.
They are representations of the hands
that made them and leave a trace of
their maker’s existence - a seemingly
timeless need of mankind.
David’s McDairmid’s practice
playfully, and somewhat ironically,
explores an aspect of reality concerned
with delusion and illusion, relevance,
deception and ultimately the struggle
for power: megalomania.
Monumental gateways have been
built and used for thousands of
years. The Triumphal Arch, considered
to be a Roman invention, is now
emulated the world over. In one, it
encapsulates the megalomaniac’s
desire for legacy and establishes a
history, true or not, that the creator
desires to be remembered. It is
an icon, a conspicuous symbol of
omnipotence - whether given or
taken. The megalomaniac lives Jean-
Paul Satre’s mantra of Man’s desire
(fantasy) to be God.
McDiarmid, like many Artists
before him whose work has
been concerned with ideas of
influence and power -Michelangelo,
Warhol and Hirst to name just a few
- has, intentionally or not, created his
own trademark. David’s motif is not
of the triumphal arch, but rather the
scaffolding for a triumphal arch.
It is a perfect selection, considering
its temporal nature, strength,
stability and ability to aid in
creation - embodying many of the
megalomaniac’s concerns and wider
ideas around the subject. Each
piece he makes incorporates his
scaffolding motif and from there,
he hangs his other concerns. Every
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work, although similar, differs from
the next and explores, in part through
pedantry, the nuance and minutiae of
his subject - how apt.
The exhibition at Interviewroom11
centres around his piece Projection,
the namesake of the show. This piece,
I understand from having known
McDiarmid and his work for several
years now, has been three years in its
gestation. The piece, in mono tone,
flicks and clicks slowly from one slide
to the next, projecting stage by stage
the erection of his scaffolding motif - in
a manner similar to the marching of an
totalitarian regime: overwhelming and
unrelenting.
Physically, in its medium, the piece
is a projection, but the title also
describes what the piece is about:
psychology and artifice. The exquisite,
hand crafted models that are projected
are scaled up significantly, with the
central archway above head height,
which makes that playful and profound
point.
Another reading is easily found
too. The archway, historically
designed to be triumphantly walked
through, is projected onto the surface
of a wall - we can not walk through
it. Is McDiarmid denying us any
delusional belief in our right to walk
through? Is he asking us to reflect
on what we have really achieved in
our life thus far - the value added
that we bring? In and through this
piece we are reminded, if we had
momentarily forgotten or in fact
been unaware, that all are equal and
none are deserving. The projected
image of power is just that: an image
of it, not the real thing. This triumphal
arch, although dominating the space,
cannot serve its purpose.
Materiality and use of space are
key elements to understanding
McDiarmid’s work. On the one
hand his selection of materials
evoke the splendor of past cultural
achievements and developments,
whilst at the same time, referencing
empire, conquest and the spoils
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of war. Gold Leaf, Marble and the
form of Pietra Dure are frequently
appropriated, but in a further
undermining of the megalomaniac’s
assumption of, or desire for, power,
McDiarmid does not always use
the precious original materials that
he appears to. Instead, he favours
manufactured marble and imitation
gold leaf - like Projection, when we
shift from the concept of the works to
their physical realisation, the artifice
within megalomania is illuminated.
McDiarmid, in part, takes on the
character of megalomanic when
he plays with the installation of his
work: he considers carefully the
environment in which his works are
presented and how his works can
respond to that environment. This, to
a great extent, is done to influence
his viewer. Of particular success in
this presentation of work is his piece
Accession, where if you want to view
the work, which you do, you have to
bend low, uncomfortably low. This little,
golden monument may be small, it may
have no real power over you, but you
have bowed before it and others will
too — how poignant.
Megalomania, specifically
embodied within and through
the triumphal arch, has been the
subject of David McDiarmid’s
research for the last three years.
His exhibition at Interview room11
stands as a first summation, or
retrospective, of his burgeoning
practice to date.
What next for McDiarmid? A
further exploration of and play
on ‘The Power of Art’ I am sure - and
hope.
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60
In Conversation
Adam Benmakhlouf, David McDiarmid

Q&A with Adam Benmakhlouf
Scotland Art Editor for The Skinny
Adam Benmakhlouf: It seems like
you’re dealing with the monumental
in a precious way. You quote huge
structures in little sculptures and
detailed paintings. How do you
think about this clash between the
ornamental and the monumental?
David McDiarmid: I have always felt
really uncomfortable making large
work, especially when dealing with
megalomania as a subject. All these
overtly grand structures... I’m wary of
falling into a trap of just mimicking! It
was, for me, a natural response to work
in this way, as a way of highlighting such
delusions of grandeur. What I would try
to mimic is the way in which an architect
would work and approach the design of
such monumental structures – to try and
get into the mindset of a megalomaniac.
But I’m not an architect so nothing I make
can ever be considered perfect in these
professional terms.
I’m interested in how a little drawing
can end up functioning as an instruction
from an architect to an an engineer.
What happens along these processes
of transcribing and up-scaling, from
drawings to models. I find this more
interesting than seeing the design
actually constructed.
I think that’s the most
AB: important thing about
what’s going on. That it’s not just
quoting this architecture, but the
works posit themselves as a critical
engagement with it. It’s so easy
because I don’t think there is a huge
distinction between monumental
mentality in architecture and then in
art.
At the time when I first
DMc: started researching all
of this I was reading into public art
and there was a lot of criticism to do
with art and architecture and the point
where they combine. Just the fact that
artists seem to be making bigger and
bigger pieces of work now. Fair enough
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some of it is genuinely quite interesting
but there’s a lot that’s just big and that’s
what’s impressive about it. It’s a funny
one, my subject matter is very much to do
with going big, but then for me to respond
to this by making large-scale work just
seems to be the most ridiculously obvious
thing to do.
It’s interesting because just
AB: when you’re saying that there.
It dawned on me a bit, when we were
talking about mimicking the scale.
How you don’t do that. In the way
that you do kind of mimic is with the
materials. Is with the cement and the
tape. Maybe it’s all to do with the scale,
if you were just making big cement
things you would just kind of make a
mini building. If you scale it up with
the same materials it would just be a
building.
Exactly. The title piece of
DMc: the show, Projection, is
the nearest to ‘full-scale’ I have allowed.
The piece has been presented a few
times before at different stages in its
development, however, it’s size has
always been limited by the space -
it’s height prescribed by the gallery
environment. For the IR11 show, the
benchmark was projecting it to a
size in which someone could stand
under the archway. I was pleased the
Interviewroom 11 was tall enough
to do that. At the same time, I see
this piece as a work in progression.
Despite my trepidations of working
in large-scale, I have this ambition to
see the piece exhibited “properly” as
in projected as a full-scale scaffold
structure. This is maybe contradictory,
but I’m comfortable with the idea of
scaling up this particular piece, because
it ultimately remains as a proposal
or a plan, and never fills its inherent
function.
You said before that you
AB: make an effort to work
like an architect. How far does that
go, and how do you consider the
distinction?
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I do consciously work in a
DMc: similar way to an architect.
I’m always trying to be as accurate as
possible, but there are clear differences.
An easy way to do it would be to do
digital drawings and get the models 3D
printed and it would all be perfect. I think
something is lost in that though. I like
revealing the imperfections of things, and
the hand-made is good for that. It shows
the time taken to make something. I
suppose it all ties into the whole concept
behind megalomania – that agonising
ambition to make something perfect
and monumental and invincible but
never quite managing it. History is full
of examples of these kinds of frustrated
ambitions. A good example of that would
be Albert Speer’s plans for Germany and
the thousand year reich, which barely
lasted a decade.
Was that round the 30s then?
AB: The Nazis?
Yes, the early 40s, too.
DMc: There were plans to
redevelop the whole of Berlin into a
super city called Germania. In the heart
of the city there was going to be a
massive Arch of Triumph. The Nazis
also saw the Champs Elysee in Paris
and planned to mimic this by building
an even larger and wider boulevard
leading up to the Arch. Only a handful
of Speer’s buildings remain now. I find
it so interesting yet alien, this mindset
of setting out to make these massive
buildings that will last forever but which
can never succeed. It’s always bound to
fail.
When you talk about
AB: Albert Speer and when his
designs or plans ran adrift, there’s
this relationship between having
“designs” like plotting, and the actual
design of a building.
Indeed, design in terms
DMc: of becoming a scheme,
or a total plan. It can get quite scary.
Speer’s Chancellery Building had these
deliberately highly polished marble
floors which all the guards were
trained to walk on so that they didn’t
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slip, while anyone visiting the Chancellery
Building would! There was a time in
history when Hitler met Emil Hácha, the
Czech president just as Czechoslovakia
was being invaded. And he’s coming to
have talks, and generally find out what’s
going on. They lead him across the marble
floor and he’s slipping all over the place.
And they take him the long way to the
office, down long, echoey corridors, up
and down seemingly endless flights of
steps ... And when they reach the office,
they’ve also set up this almost childish
scenario of a huge desk separating Hitler
on a tall throne on one side and Hacha on
the other side in a small, uncomfortable
chair – it’s no surprise that by the time he
arrives to talk to Hitler, he is completely
intimidated and appeases. It’s a really
frightening thing to realise that someone
sat down and planned that kind of
physical interaction.
It’s quite difficult to separate
AB: it. The strategy of design
and then the more broad terms, the
ideology of design as well. It’s funny
thinking of the physical design on
one level and underneath you have
the “designs,” the intentions and
ideologies.
I was reading a book
DMc: recently, Architecture
Depends by Jeremy Till. I believe
he was making a point about how
architects tend to search for ideals or
principles about space but that there is
another major factor of architecture to
consider, which is time. This is where
it ties in with all the past and present
personalities like Albert Speer. You
know you’re building something that is
meant to last, but you can never escape
time. It sounds cheesy, but buildings are
built then they’re going to change, and
there are architects that try to escape
that, the changing of buildings. I feel
like that’s the problematic test of good
architecture that still goes on now, that
somehow it’s never going to change or
yield to the people that use it.
And in some ways it’s like
AB: what’s happening when
you make the slide models for
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Projection. You usually try and make
it perfect. But then you use these
quite recalcitrant materials, that will
always do something else than what
you envision. People live their lives
in a building, but then that results in
everyday edits and breakages, spillages
and stain. What should the attitude
be, accommodate change or create
space that in a kind of paranoia tries to
predict all future uses and accidents?
It’s a question of control. To
DMc: use a very simple example
from everyday life, the likes of chip stones
are used in parks or squares to discourage
people from walking certain routes. It’s
not necessarily a bad thing but, but it
does make me think how easy it is to
build an environment to control the way
someone walks around it.
This is a good way into the
AB: space of your installations.
You have to in some way dictate the
space, I did get a bit confused because
that projection wall was a built wall and
then there was the false pillar for your
piece Abeyance as well. They felt
like little interventions and kind of
controlling that space and how it can
be traversed.
Most of the imagery I use
DMc: in my work is of external
structures, rather than architectural
interiors. I suppose how I address the
subject of interior space is through
the installation of the work in the
gallery space. For a long time I was
very uncomfortable hanging paintings
on the wall. I was always interested
in presenting the paintings with the
models. Fundamentally I still describe
myself as a painter even though a lot
of the works you probably wouldn’t
describe as painting. I always feel I
solve problems in a painterly way. I
won’t present a model on its own, I’ll
present a painting with it because it
sets up for me an interesting connection
between design and construction,
proposal and projection, drawing, model
and finished concept.
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There’s a kind of dominance,
AB: laying out an exhibition. Do
you feel that?
In some respects, but
DMc: it’s more playful for me. I
wouldn’t say I set out to dominate how
the viewer should view or experience
my work. If I see an unusual aspect to
a space, I immediately see that as a
challenge to address. There’s a lot of site
specific interventions going on as well,
like the addition of the temporary pillar
in the space for Abeyance. The pillar was
actually going to be in a different place
for the show at IR11 until we noticed
the skylight next to the diagonal wall.
I was always really unsure of what to
do with that diagonal. It was such a big
feature but awkward to find the right
work to hang for it. We ended up putting
the pillar there and it worked well as an
entry into this second space in the show.
It’s almost awkward looking in images,
but I think it works quite well in the actual
space. There’s something nice about the
skylight above it. There’s this wonderful
light which illuminates the pillar and
gives it this very grandiose presence; it
reminded me of the black space obelisk
in the film Space Odyssey. I found it
amusing seeing how people responded
to it. In some cases people totally
missed that it was a fake pillar!
These superfluous pillars
AB: bring up the idea of the
non-functionality of ornament and
the kind of features that might just
be intended to dominate a space or
to be impressive. But you’re going
for odd spatial decisions, specifically
seeking out interestingly awkward
configurations. I think this idea of
the different kinds of architectural
difficulties and even failure seems
to cut across a lot of your practice.
There’s that point again about not
just using a 3D printer, so not making
the perfect models. So you frustrate
yourself, and by doing so you bring all
the issues of design going awry right
to your desk by using media that
will keep resulting in this moment
of self-defeating. It shrinks down to
the role of an architect to its most
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frustrating that you might intend to
make a building or sculpture or painting
in a certain way, and have plans and
strategies but they will literally in the
case of the architect, certainly fall or
be torn down. And it brings that whole
timeline of intent and frustration
directly into your process just by
using those (in conventional terms)
unsuitable materials. That’s one of the
most successful critical parts to what
your doing.
It’s interesting because
DMc: what you’re saying ties
in with what I’m reading in Architecture
Depends just now. That architecture
depends on way more things than it
accounts for. There’s a nice section I really
like: “The gardener gets rid of weeds as
part of the controlling of nature. As we
shall see with architecture as with any
project of the modern age, the more
one attempts to eliminate the other of
order the more it comes back to haunt
one. Weeds always grow back.” And it’s
basically suggesting that spend ages over
something to make it perfect, but know
it will always ultimately be in vain. The
whiter the wall, the quicker it succumbs
to dirt. I always like my plinths to look
totally pristine. I won’t bother painting
them until the day of the show and I
know they’re in place and I won’t have
to touch them. I’ll have moved them
wearing white gloves and painted
them when in place. But somehow
there is always some imperfection I
notice - the slightest of scuffs, marks or
cracks- and the very fact it’s white, only
serves to contrast and highlight these
imperfections! I think every painter,
artist or architect have these moments.
And I think every one of them knows
where they are in their works and can’t
stop looking at them. It’s just all part of
the game!
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I would just like to give a huge thank you to everyone who came along to the
exhibition and also to all of those who helped me along the way - it means a lot!
Special thanks must go to: Scott McCracken, Mirja Koponen and all the volunteers
at Interviewroom11 for all their support and assistance leading up to the show.
Paul Corbett for his wonderful design work for the exhibition promotional
materials. Dominic McIvor for his hard work and assistance during the (fairly
mammoth) install. Jon Nicolson for his technical assistance building the Projection
wall. Callum Kellie and Gray’s School of Art for their support and for lending me
the projector used in the title piece. Martin Ramsey for his help delivering the
work. My dad for all his wonderful ongoing help and support. And finally to my
Visual Artist Unit family who I share studios with and bounced off many an idea
along the way. This is by no means an exhaustive list, but I am so grateful to
everyone who was involved and now owe a lot of people a lot of pints!
This catalogue accompanies:
Projection, an exhibition by David McDiarmid
10 - 25 April 2015, Interviewroom11, Edinburgh
http://www.davidmcdiarmid.co.uk/
© the artists 2015, all the rights reserved
Texts © Peter Chalmers, Adam Benmakhlouf, David McDiarmid
First published by IR11 publications, 2015
Photo © Laura Falcone
exept for Craig Gibson © pp. 3, 8, 17, 21, 24, 32
and David Guillen © pp. 22, 36, 40, 42
Design and cover by Alessandro Di Massimo
Typeset in Titillium, designed by Campivisivi, Urbino (IT) - SIL Open Font License, Version 1.1

Interviewroom11 is an artist run gallery and project space located in the centre of
Edinburgh. We are part of ForestCentre+, an arts complex including artist studios
and resource space situated in Argyle House, an old 1960s brutalist office block,
currently being rehabilitated for creative industry and technology uses.
Gallery Committee & Co-Directors:
Mirja Koponen
Scott McCracken
Ana González Chouciño
Willem Venter
The exhibition “Projection” was coordinated by Scott McCracken
Volunteer gallery assistants: Carmel Pia, Paula Burbicka, Hugo Villalobos Solís,
Sandra García Peinado, Sandra Robles Merlos, Rafael González Rojo, Laura
Matheson, Sarah Morgan, Mo Papadaki.

David McDiarmid
PROJECTION
IR11 publications, 2015