I sat down this morning with a determination to get cracking on curating my blog. After all, it should be quite easy as I’ve been going through my blog to format it for my book.
But where to start? So much overlap. What goes where?
So I went outside and cut the grass. I might do a spot of weeding as well, and there’s that large pile of laundry waiting to be ironed.
I’m not sure whether this is life imitating art, or my art imitating my life. Or whether there is even a distinction any more.
My daughter phoned me yesterday, after her final exam. That’s it, she’s done, she’s finished, university is over. Another chapter in her life is coming to an end as another is about to begin.
That’s not the only achievement. Whilst she was at home over the Easter holiday she drove a car for the first time since her head-on collision last May. She felt she was ready – she had been having dreams that she was driving and felt bereft when she woke up to discover that it wasn’t real. A far cry from the flashbacks she had been having. So, I went with her for a couple of drives, and then she asked me how I would feel if she went solo. I told her that I was ok with it if she felt comfortable, rather perplexed by the seriousness with which she had asked the question. Well, you were traumatised by the accident as well and I want to make sure that you feel comfortable with me going by myself.
I’ve been thinking about this conversation and wondering why I was surprised by it and why I’m not still carrying the fall out from the accident with me – what could have happened, and what did happen to my one and only. Maybe it’s because after it happened I was making – experimenting with drawing maps and hands – and writing about it on this blog. It makes me wonder how differently other things might have turned out had I been making art or had written about it at the time.
So, having taped all of the test sheets togther into what I called my ‘play sheet’, I let rip with the small pieces of linocut I had found. I also used the lino of the shape that I’m not intending to use, although I still really like the shape of it. The full print of it doesn’t fit with the background, although I do like the way the background disrupts it. I experimented with just using the outline which I think is effective, experimenting with the quality of the outline by using a bold line painted on with printing ink, some thinned down ink and some charcoal. I also added to some other areas with a brush as well as coloured pencils. I think that I need to sit with it for a while to identify those elements that work – it’s got everything but the kitchin sink in it. Hopefully, some clarity will emerge from the chaos.
I have some initial thoughts.
Printing the solid shapes of lino wasn’t very effective but I do like those bits where I scratched away some of ink from the surface before printing. I also like the muted contour lines in a light grey. The darker colours definitely need greater transparency (I was thinking about the shadow cast by the stone).
It’s a starting point and the next step is to work on a slightly larger piece of paper trying to get the transparency of ink right, adding in some masked areas, and to work out a colour palette. I’ll keep using the lino offcuts for now.
I was a bit disappointed about the lined shape – I really love the effect you get when they overlap and the lines distort. Maybe I need to try something separately but incorporating elements of today’s experimenting, perhaps even including elements of collage. Maybe I could try using mulberry paper, or try sticking with monochrome – it felt a bit strange using so much colour, but I think that I was feeling in a celebratory mood.
That said, there are some areas that I like.
As I was experimenting I thought that what I really want is to achieve some thin veils of colour between the bubble layer and the print – like the effect you get when you glaze in oil painting. I’ve questioned recently whether I should try oil painting again. I haven’t done any for so long as I haven’t been going to my classes. It would be like meeting up with an old friend who I haven’t seen for a long time and during which time I have changed considerably. Would I get sucked into being my old self, or would they be happy to accept me as I am now?
Structure seems to be the word of the moment.
After the video feedback session this week, we discussed some of the structures around art that aren’t the actual art making. One of the areas we discussed in our group was social and online media. Eleana told us a story about her practising a pitch and one of the people giving feedback wanted to know more about the rest of her work so that she could see it and decide on the piece being pitched in context. So, people being able to see the bigger picture of you is important.
Sorting out a website has been something that I’ve had on my list of things to do in my head. I think it’s inportant going forward, after the end of the course.
As I sit here looking out of the window in need of a good clean, my husband is cutting the overgrown grass. The glass table has turned opaque with dust and the dog is giving off an overly ripe odour (well, at least I think it’s the dog).
And this is how I know that the way I have been working, particularly recently, is not sustainable. The ‘it’s for my course’ has been both a blessing and a curse. It has validated me spending time making art but on the other hand, as usual, I have gone all in and seen it as a permission to be totally selfish and to allow my head to be somewhere else for most of the time and, to be fair, I did warn them that this would be the case. There have been times when I’ve been so caught up in the intensity of making that I’ve emerged at the other end feeling like I’ve binge-watched a box set or had one too many chunky Kit Kats. I’ve needed a break after such episodes, which probably explains why my rhythm of making is not consistent but in sporadic bursts.
Everything in moderation – isn’t that the key? Well, perhaps not necessarily in moderation, but certainly with more attention on life in general. It’s getting to the stage where I’m finding it difficult to hold more than one thought in my head at a time – road taxing the car and whether I should try cyanotyping on tracing paper. I used to think that I should allow myself to be submerged in the making process for as long as I need to, at the expense of whatever else was going on; to seize the inspiration and run with it. But that’s not the way forward. Once this course is over I won’t be able to say that ‘it’s for my course’.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently and I have recognised that I need a little structure, nothing too rigid but with enough strength to support my practice in how, when and where I make. For the first part of this course I went full on into experimenting to try and rid myself of the product driven perfectionist self. This approach worked as I immersed myself in the process not worrying about results but simply making and responding, although I realise that I can never be truly free from that side of myself. It felt so liberating, but having broken out there was so much out there for me to try and I suddenly felt the urge to try everything. But I don’t do well with overwhelm – even the process of deciding on a research question overwhelmed and subsequently paralysed me. In the past I have reacted to overwhelm by going to the extreme of trying to take control. In retrospect, I now see that didn’t work either, so there must be a half-way house.
Because of the contentment that I felt when I started making the line drawings at the beginning of the last term, I now realise that whilst I my practice is still very firmly rooted in the experimental and the process, I do need some soft structure to keep my perfectionist goal-driven self, quiet. This soft structure in how I make takes the form of repetitive mark-making, using the same patterns and motifs such as the contour lines, my father’s silhouette, automatic line drawings etc. Just recently I’ve also found that working on more than one thing at once has also been beneficial. When I get fed up of formatting the blog for the book, I go and do something else and whilst that is drying I move on to another. I also think that the concept of soft structure will also enable me to make work which is capable of fulfilling a brief as opposed to being solely the result of experimentation, which has been a concern of mine in looking towards the future.
In terms of where I make, I am in the process of sorting out an outbuilding where I will be working. I have been sorting it out for the last two years, but up until now I haven’t really needed it. I need it now to create a separate physical space to work where it will be more difficult for everyday life to encroach. Getting a studio somewhere would probably be the cleanest solution, but then what about those days when I’m not really in the mood? At least this way I’ve only a short walk.
As for when I make, the making the most of the moment approach will have to change because of its impact on everyday life. I need to decide how much of my time is to be spent on my practice and when. Making a rigid timetable won’t work – my work plan to my Study Statement proves that. Maybe a general aim to spend x hours a week, or a number of half days. I think that’s something which will emerge in practice. So, from now on, as an experiment, I will spend my mornings during the week on art making and course related activities. After lunch I will then concentrate on everyday tasks and once they have been completed, I’m free to return to art. Obviously, I’ll have to fit in other activities so there will have to be some adjustments.
The irony of having to separate my everyday life from my art practice which is grounded in everyday life, doesn’t escape me.
I’ve learnt my lesson from the 3-minute video. I set about the 5-minute video by writing down what I wanted to say first and then selecting images with reference to the voice over. There was some adjusting in between with tweaks to the audio. The difficulty was getting the structure right so that there was minimal repetition of thoughts and ideas. But 5 minutes of my dulcet tones! Something had to change.
So I restructured it in the form of an interview, using Speechify to alter my voice to a middle aged man called Benjamin. There was no particular reason for this choice other than his voice was the least irritating and also I wanted a male voice so there is a clear difference between the two.
I’ve learnt and developed even more in the process of making it.
Enough said.
I had some leftover ink and made some monotypes with it – just swirls and wipes. The ink is oil based Cranfield Safe Wash and so I also employed a spray bottle of water.
After they had dried, I decided to add another layer, another process – I used thread. I played around with the burnt paper and threaded paper I made the other day.
My daughter walked in while I was doing the next one – oh, do different stitches she said. I’m not making an embroidery sampler I replied, but then I did end up experimenting with different stitches and combinations of colour. I much prefer the lines in which the stitches aren’t apparent – where it looks like a line made by thread.
I punctured the paper from the reverse to make raised bits to add texture – nothing new, I’ve seen a lot of it on Instagram.
And held up against the window:
I’m still thinking about Shiota’s threads.
And threads on top of threads.
Originally in this post, I wrote about an incident in my childhood in which my mother intentionally tried to disassociate herself from me by walking away when I was not feeling very well. I published the post but then deleted the passage. It felt unnecessary because this image is enough.
I’m interested in trying combinations of processes, like print over cyanotype. I used a piece of scrap cyanotype for this one and I like the effect – I’ll experiment some more.
I’m conscious that each time I post I’m creating more work for myself in terms of making my book. But there’s so much to think about, to process and to make at the moment.
We started this week’s session by reflecting on the response we had to the prompts last week. It’s quite interesting in that I didn’t, and still don’t, feel concerned about my identity. Maybe it’s because it can’t be defined, because it exists in and is created by my work. It doesn’t seem important to me – I live, I make.
We then looked at adjusting or disrupting our practice, considering whether there is anything we can do which might create new possibilities. We looked at placing ourselves on a line between two points and considering what would happen if we shifted our position between those points.
Material______________________________ Conceptual
Iterative Making ______________________________ Research-based
Intuitive ______________________________ Structured
Continual ______________________________ Periodic
Process ______________________________ Outcome
At first glance I placed myself clearly to either end: material, iterative making, intuitive, periodic and process. But thinking about it more carefully, and discussing the concepts with other members of my group, I began to see that it is not as simple as that.
In a way, for me, they are more like recursive loops than linear continuums (or continua?). It was a helpful exercise as it highlighted to me that I’m neither one nor the other.
We then considered, what are the most important things to do that are not directly making art. In addition, to continuing to be part of a creative community, making space and time is important to me. In The End I talk about my concern that my time will be sucked up by everyday life. This last week has been busy and I’ve been making every day. The consequence is that tasks in everyday life have not been done and are now mounting up, and quite a few meals have been eaten separately. My art making has had a direct impact on home life and it’s not sustainable long term.
Having developed a way of working, I now need to put in place a time and place for working. By having a dedicated work space away from the house, I can try to develop a regular routine of making, physical or otherwise, in which the boundaries are clear and which minimises disruption to everyday life.
What immediately comes to mind is the Ad Reinhardt quote in After Everything Else:
‘one paints when there is nothing else to do. After everything is done, has been taken care of, one can take up the brush. After all the human social needs, pressures are accounted for. Only then can we be free to work.’
I went out into the garden this morning. Of course I had noticed it before now, but I hadn’t acknowledged it. The path has gone, the grass has regrown and the trace of his physical existence is no longer there. It left me feeling sad. He would run from one end of the trees to the other barking at the cyclists who would greet him as they passed. The path embodied his physical presence.
Video – A Line Made By Running
The line in Richard Long’s A Line Made By Walking (1967), embodied his physical presence in the act of walking and questioned which part is the art, the walking, the line, or the photograph documenting it?
I then started thinking about how dogs see the world and about colour, about whether colour only exists because we perceive it and what the world would ‘look’ like if we didn’t. It took me to the classic question of whether a falling tree makes a sound if no-one is there to hear it. From a scientific perspective it does, because it still creates the sound waves. But what about a banana in a dark room? It still exists even though we can’t perceive it, but is it still yellow? My initial thought was no, because there are no light waves to be reflected or absorbed.
I think that I prefer the scientific view to Berkeley’s idea that ‘to exist is to be perceived‘ in which neither the tree nor the banana exist until we perceive them. But that led me to thinking about whether my work is art when only I perceive it or whether it needs to be perceived by others as being art. I think Merleau-Ponty would say that it is enough that I experience it as art because our perception is embodied in our experience of being in the world. It is art because I declare it to be, the perception of others enhances it and adds to its meaning.
Rightly or wrongly, some rambling thoughts when I’m supposed to be getting on with something else.
Kate McCalmont-Woods 