As early as 1971, Raspé developed the so-called ‘camera helmet’ before these were industrially available: a construction site helmet equipped with a Super 8 camera that captures the central perspective of the artist’s gaze and enabled her to film her everyday life. The resulting films show the artist performing routine tasks, including housework, which are usually executed rather unthinkingly, or automatically. Later, Raspé turned her attention to observing her automatic drawing and abstract painting practice with the camera.
“This is a different kind of automatism than the one we know in everyday life. The point of my films was to interrupt daily work automatisms and try to look closely. In automatic drawing, you simply hold the pencil in your hand, place it on the paper, and let it do its thing. It’s about not thinking and letting go. […] In the film on the automatic drawing process, I made these very personal movements within a given space, a letter-sized sheet of paper. If you watch that process closely, it’s easy to comprehend how it goes. There is a moment of complicated balance, followed by a disruption, and finally the instant when I notice that the flux of energy is over and the drawing is finished. Once again, it is my hands that are decisive, focusing on transformation, a notation of motion, and spatial orientation—on the sheet of paper and through the operation of the hand. For me, it was about seeing whether the film would require the entirety of my energy or if it would be possible to maintain distance. I wanted to attain both: immersing myself in the film, but letting go at the same time. I could only see the drawing through the camera. I found it interesting how fast the hand moves and how, when you’re watching the film, the incredibly similar back-and-forth motion resembles that in the dishwashing film, despite portraying two completely different states.”
– Margaret Raspé in conversation with Florida
