Laura Gonzalez


7 Jul 2006

Dream material

CouchLast night I deamt my partner left me for another woman. When he told me so, he said I was mere “drapery” in his life.

Drapery (From Oxford English Dictionary Online)

1. Cloth or textile fabrics collectively.
2. a. The trade or business of a draper; the manufacture of cloth (obs.); now, the sale of cloth and other textile fabrics.
b. A place where cloth is made.
c. A place where a draper’s business is conducted.
3. The artistic arrangement of clothing in painting or sculpture.
4. The stuff with which anything is draped, or artistically covered; clothing or hangings of any kind; esp. the clothing of the human figure in sculpture or painting.
5. attrib. and Comb. drapery drudge, man, an artist employed by another artist to paint the drapery in a composition.

Drappery is probably Lacan’s S1, that little bit of “unconscious nonsense” Adams ((Adams, P (1991) The art of analysis: Mary Kelly‚Äôs ‚ÄúInterim‚Äù and the Discourse of the analyst. October, Vol. 58, Rendering the Real (Autumn 1991), pp. 81-96)) refers to, like Phillipe’s licorne in Laplanche and Leclaire’s paper on the unconscious…

I wonder what I was trying to tell myself.

Posted in Blog, Dreams, Psychoanalysis

3 Responses to “Dream material”

  1. Thersites said:

    Well, I’m no Freudian – nor Lacanian, for that matter – but this is clearly a dream that exhibits a great deal of self-respect, albeit in a rather covert manner. Never underestimate the drapery! The cherry on the top is all! Read Baudelaire’s essay on cosmetics. And most important of all, never attempt to interpret your own dreams; it’s safest to ask me. Good night.

  2. Laura Gonzalez said:

    Self-respect… Interesting interpretation… Is that wish fulfillment, you think?

    I am sorry to disappoint you, but I am beginning to be really interested in the idea of self-analysis (as in what Freud did), and that includes interpreting my own dreams. Fortunately, I also have a paying someone with whom I can talk about them… I know it has it pitfalls, especially as therapy, but I suspect it may be a useful process for someone engaged in art practice… That, however, does not mean you cannot interpret my dreams too. I would welcome anything you may want to say…

    I will follow your advice and read Baudelaire’s “In praise of Cosmetics”. Thanks for that!

  3. Thersites said:

    I apologise for the latter part of my original post, which attempted to be self-deprecatory (of my presumption).

    My interpretation of your dream was an attempt to derail the obvious and to “accentuate the positive/eliminate the negative/latch on to the affirmative”. I am a respondent to your blog; were I a friend, no doubt I should prioritise a different interpretation.

    Self-analysis seems to me to be for those whose consciousness grasps at the crumbs from the table of their sub-consciousness. They are Other even within their own souls.

    Far better to watch oneself doing good work and to marvel at that. If you must self-analyse, why not seek your truths by re-visiting your finished art? That schism, that binary, seems much healthier to me.

    But (since you mention the word “advice”…) my advice is to start from the assumption that you are perfect, given the context. Then improve the context.

    But what the hell do I know? I am but a wraith that wanders the blasted wastelands of blog comments pages. Thank you for letting me opine.

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About Me

I am an artist and writer. My recent practice performance, film, dance, photography and text, and my work has been performed, exhibited and published in many venues in Europe and the US. I have spoken at numerous conferences and events, including the Museum for the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York, the Medical Museum in Copenhagen, College Arts Association and the Association for the Psychoanalysis of Culture and Society. When I am not following Freud, Lacan and Marx’s footsteps with my camera or creating performance works as part of my Athenaeum Research Fellowship at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, I teach postgraduate students at Transart Institute.

I am currently immersed in an interdisciplinary project exploring knowledge and the body of the hysteric. In 2013, together with Child and Adolescent Mental Health practitioner Frances Davies, I co-edited the book ‘Madness, Women and the Power of Art’, to which I contributed a work authored with Eleanor Bowen. My book ‘Make Me Yours: How Art Seduces’ was published by Cambridge Scholars in 2016. In this text, investigates psychoanalytic approaches to making and understanding objects of seduction, including an examination of parallels between artistic and analytic practices, a study of Manolo Blahnik’s shoes as objects of desire, a disturbing encounter with Marcel Duchamp’s last work, and the creation of a psychoanalytically inspired Discourse of the Artefact, a framework enabling the circulation of questions and answers through a relational approach to artworks.