Rain, Rain, Go Away III.

9th Feb 20269th Feb 2026Kate McCalmont-Woods Leave a comment

I was looking at Google Maps on my phone following directions to a restaurant. I sensed my husband, who was standing beside me, step off the curb to cross the road, so I stepped off too. His arm suddenly shot out and brought me to a halt as a bus went past us. My attention had been elsewhere and I had instinctively followed him. He just hadn’t been looking properly.

People walking along looking at their phones, not where they’re going, who they are about to bump into, or what’s going on around them, videoing events rather than experiencing the moment.

I recently took this photo of East Beach in West Bay.

We’ve spent a lot of time over the last 20 years or so on this part of the south coast, between Weymouth and Lyme Regis. The cliffs are made of sandstone which is undercut by the sea and in recent years the incidence of rockfalls and landslips has increased to at least two a year – a woman walking on the beach was killed in one in 2012. The extent of the coastal erosion is evidenced by the regular closures and rerouting of the South West Coastal path. Yet despite the large yellow warning signs on the beaches, there always seems to be someone either standing near the edge of the cliffs or sitting close to their base, if not directly under them.

I suppose that I’m interested in the sense of a general lack of awareness, which often comes about by seeing life through a lens rather thna living in the moment.

Anyway, I experimented by inverting the photo. My plan is to digitally collage some figures into it, all using a camera in some way, as I am in my shadow. Then I think that I will create a landslip in the cliffs on the right, probably using paint – I was interested in Johanna Love’s reference to Richter’s painted photographs.

After adding some figures in Procreate:

It was difficult getting the scale of the figures right and still being able to make them out, but it’s the best that I can do. Also, Procreate has desaturated the colours – from what I can tell it’s because it uses a different colour profile, but I think that I prefer the blue as it reminds me of a cyanotype. So I’ve had it printed onto satin photo paper, halfway between A3 and A2.

I needed to think about how the paint might behave on the photo paper. After some research I decided to spray the print with varnish to protect the ink from the next layer of gloss medium. I then painted on top.

I’m feeling ambivalent about the result.

Not much else to say really, so moving on…

Rain, Rain, Go Away.

4th Feb 20267th Feb 2026Kate McCalmont-Woods Leave a comment

Having been distracted momentarily by my line drawing phase, I’m experiencing delayed January blues. When is it going to stop raining? It’s really difficult to get enthusiastic about much when it’s constantly dark and raining outside. Opportunities to go out for a good walk are limited, although Otto, the dog, still has to have his walks but they’re generally quite quick because, likewise, he doesn’t like the rain, and won’t go in puddles.

Nevertheless, I’m keen to keep up my recent momentum in making. One pressing concern is next week’s looming deadline for the Royal Academy’s Summer Exhibition. Somehow, I managed to apply for two entries this year – I was intending to apply for my husband to encourage him to pick up a paintbrush again, but clearly I wasn’t wearing my thinking head that day. So I’m now setting myself for a double rejection, but it’s happened so many times now, I’m feeling quite immune. As always, there is a theme but I’m not even going to bother thinking about it this year, although I do note that they are encouraging students to enter – maybe that will improve my chances!

I had the idea during last year’s low residency to get hold of the images from my endoscopy which I’d had a month or so before. Well, I eventually got around to requesting them, but the good old NHS has sent me everything but what I actually wanted. Whilst I’m waiting to hear back from them (let’s face it they’ve probably got better things to be doing), I thought I could make use of last year’s mammogram. There’s really nothing quite like having your breasts squeezed between two rigid surfaces. Before I had my first one, a friend of mine commented that she hates having them done because the machine reminds her of the meat slicers you get on delicatessen counters. I relayed this remark to the radiographer who grimaced and squeezed her legs together. I have to say that the thought does flit across my mind in the moment. Rather ironically, because it feels less clinical than a hospital, I always choose to go to the mobile unit in Tesco’s car park. It means I can do the weekly shop afterwards – two birds, one stone, and all that.

I took all four images: right and left mediolateral oblique and right and left craniocaudal. I removed my personal info and removed some digits from my hospital number as I wanted it to be apparent that they are medical images. I then imported them into Procreate and played around with inverting and layering etc. And this is when I learnt an important lesson – whilst it’s great to experiment and try lots of different things, if you don’t make a note of it somewhere you won’t be able to recreate it. I liked the first image I made but wanted to adjust some of the transparency in some areas. So I adjusted it but couldn’t remember what I had done to create the final image. Try as I might I just couldn’t recreate it so, in the end, I decided to run with the original image. I displayed the image on my laptop screen and then took a photograph of it which incorporated some of the reflections on the screen, which I think add a bit of depth and additional interest to the image. The idea was to print it and then overdraw with pencils, charcoal etc. I experimented on a home-printed image. I became even more despondent because nothing seemed to work. I decided to fold it, scrunch it and cut it up. Then I thought, a good approach when something isn’t working is to cut it into strips and weave it. I liked the effect, and my mood lifted.

Anyway, when I got the A3 image from the printers I didn’t think it was that bad, and I couldn’t bring myself to cut it up so I just overdrew some areas adjusting tones using black, grey and silver pencils and some charcoal. I quite like how the inclusion of the straight lines and the curves suggest a graph of some sort, how it has both a geometric feel but also a natural, landscape feel, as if the line towards the centre is the waterline and beyond is a land mass, the dark area on the left almost reading as a tree. It was rolled up, so I’m going to have to flatten it and sort out proper lighting before I take a photo for submission. I actually really like it.

Aside from the importance of making notes whilst experimenting, this exercise has also taught me something about myself, which I suppose I have secretly always suspected. I started out with the idea of overdrawing the image. Initially that didn’t work, but rather than accept that I could change my thought process, and go off in a different direction, I allowed myself to press on and become despondent. My thought process was not flexible – it was a form of tunnel vision. Once I let go of it, I felt more positive.

Now for number two…

Pushing Paper IV

2nd Feb 20262nd Feb 2026Kate McCalmont-Woods Leave a comment

I’ve decided to experiment with using the contour image in Procreate as a layer.

I was looking through some old family photos and found this one of my father in Canada. This is a recurring image from my childhood – if there was an edge or a high place, my father would always go and stand on it despite us pleading with him not to. I think he would have been about 40 years old when this was taken. I took him on the London Eye when he was in his 70s and I don’t think he looked out at the view once, choosing to spend the entire time sitting on the central seat, ashen-faced.

I also found this photo of a signpost.

I played around with layering using filters, inverting and adjusting opacity:

The image above is tonally bland; I prefer the one below. I like how the lined contouring gives the effect of the image being woven or embroidered.

Again, the images above don’t have enough tonal range. I don’t think the contouring adds anything, it’s probably more of a distraction.

A mixed bag of results. I prefer the images which don’t crop off the bottom of the sign post. The most successful is probably the penultimate image, but again I think it needs a greater tonal range. However, I do like the effect of the figures against the landscape, the idea of crossroads in life, decisions made, a different path followed and shadow selves.

Metallic

2nd Feb 20262nd Feb 2026Kate McCalmont-Woods Leave a comment

I was interested to see Jo Love’s remediation of old black and white photos using metallic pencils, in our session a couple of weeks ago. Photographic images quite often form the basis of my work. I decided to experiment with gold and silver pencils on some old unsuccessful cyanotypes I made from the video stills in In A Flash. The results were varied.

I used the silver pencil first but thought that it didn’t stand out enough. On reflection I think there is a subtlety about it which I like, and perhaps it would have been a better choice than the gold.

I’m not particularly drawn to any of them, but if I had to make a choice I prefer the last two images, particularly the last one. What works for me are the marks outside of the original image, the sunlike shape on the left and the drifting cloud on the top right. The overdrawing creates an image within an image, something which always appeals to me. I think part of the problem is the fact that the images are on watercolour paper which wasn’t overly receptive of the pencil. Overdrawing does appeal to me as a concept, though.

Back to Black

31st Jan 202610th Feb 2026Kate McCalmont-Woods Leave a comment

In preparation for this week’s mark-making session with Jo Boddy, I dusted off my charcoal box. I haven’t used charcoal for quite a while.

During the session we were instructed to make marks and to think about the context of our practice whilst doing it. We were then paired up and gave each other instructions as to how to make further marks with a view to giving up control, something that I’ve been exploring myself recently. I was instructed to keep my charcoal on the paper and to vary the pressure. We then folded and creased our paper, again taking instructions for a second round of folding – fold an edge as if wrapping a present. This reminded me of our workshop with Christian Azolan in last year’s Low Res – I love how folding and unfolded adds a different dimension, creates shadows, particularly where I had torn the page from my sketchbook.

We took photographs of our piece and uploaded it to the miro board, giving it a title, taking it in turns to talk about it with the rest of the group. I called mine ‘Process’ because it evidenced my process – you can see where I exerted different pressure as I made my marks, how where I folded the paper the charcoal was smudged by my finger and the charcoal left a ghostly print on the opposite part of the paper.

The process felt totally comfortable.

After the session, I carried on doing some more mark-making.

I really enjoy using the charcoal on its side, moving it up and down and rotating it on itself. I used a thick stick as well as a thin stick of willow charcoal. Because I was able to press down harder on the thicker stick I managed to achieve a greater range of tone.

The one above reminds me of coastal cliffs.

I then got the plastic eraser out.

I really like the one above. It feels really dynamic. I really like the effect of using the eraser perpendicularly to horizontal lines of varying thicknesses. Doing it alternately, reminds me of Bakewell tarts or Missoni.

Pushing Paper III

29th Jan 20266th Feb 2026Kate McCalmont-Woods Leave a comment

Moving away from organic shapes for a moment, and developing the sense of overlapping circles in my husband’s outline, I decided to try something more geometric.

I also experimented with different combinations of broken and solid lines to create a different effect, and I left some areas blank. Overall I was really pleased with this. On reflection I think that’s it true to say there’s only been one out of all the images that I’ve produced that I’m not that keen on (at the end of this post), which is unusual for me.

I wanted to try and move things forward so that it didn’t become a merely stylistic treatment – something decorative or a pattern. So, I applied it to some previous motifs – contours and figures.

I really like the effect created using the contour lines. Some parts feel almost three dimensional. My system of working was a bit more regimented this time – I used a variety of different pen widths, using the same width and drawing in the same direction for each of the separate contours. It creates something quite textural, almost woven.

At first I wasn’t quite sure about the figures – I didn’t think that it added very much. Also, originally the three figures were solid black and were very prominent, which I wasn’t sure about so I changed them to gold – I think it gives them more of an absent quality. The more I look at it, the more happy I am with it. I used the thickest pen (0.8mm) in the foreground down to 0.1 – 0.05mm on the figures in the background. The choice of direction was made in the moment.

Next, I decided to try lines and I used the same pen throughout (0.8mm). I incorporated a collage element in some of the sections – cut outs from some contour work – which I think creates an effective contrast. There’s a strong sense of something having been folded, creating numerous different planes – almost like origami. The collages areas remind me of chipboard.

I then combined straight lines and circles using different widths of pens. I wanted to create something a bit more complex than the image above so I drew more lines and left some areas blank. I also made a conscious decision to go off the page. I think that the inclusion of circles and blank areas is effective but I think using different pens means that it doesn’t have as much presence as the image above – it’s more subtle – is that good? Is that bad? I’m not sure at the moment. I’ve been making these A2 images one after the other within quite a short space of time and I think that I need to give them some space, and come back to them in the cold light of day.

I wanted to experiment further with circles, but not in a uniform way.

Again, I used different pen widths and made a conscious decision to go off the page (which is the norm for me as I don’t like to be restricted – but here I am filling in shapes with nothing but lines…). Yet again, I’m pleased with it, and I particularly like the tumbling section – there’s a sense of movement. But I’m starting to think of parquet flooring for some reason.

I went back to the more organic form incorporating some more linear elements.

This time I used the same width of pen throughout but included some areas with broken lines as well as black gouache. I think this has caused it to be a more stylised image reminiscent of my original ‘doodles’. I think that I’ve gone backwards.

And then the wheels fell off, when I realised that I hadn’t thought about using different widths of pen, but keeping the lines in the same direction. I used a series of overlapping circles and filled in the sections within each circle in the same direction.

They might have a sense of movement but that’s about it. After making 11 A2 drawings in as many days, I’ve come to the end of the road, for now. Time to move on.

Moving forward I will further explore the giving up of control by enlisting some friends who don’t make art and someone I don’t know at all (how weird that relinquishing control is what we explored with Jo Boddy in this week’s session – I’m taking it as a sign). Otherwise I need to think about how I can progress what I have made so far. I’m thinking about layers, and perhaps cut outs revealing layers below. Stitching? Nails, pins and threads to map?

Pushing Paper II

27th Jan 202631st Jan 2026Kate McCalmont-Woods Leave a comment

I’m generally quite a logical person, but I’m not always methodological. Often I’ll have an idea that I want to try out, and instead of following the steps which logically come before it, I launch straight in. Maybe I’m just not that interested in the preceding steps, or maybe I’m just impatient.

Anyway, armed with some Micron fine liners I decided that rather than start again where I left off last time, I would change a few things all at once. Sometimes in my art class we will do an exercise where we draw something and then pass our work onto the next person who then adds to or modifies it. I’m not keen on this exercise, in relinquishing control to someone else, of letting someone else be a part of my work.

As drawing lines is a repetitive, controlled and focussed act, I decided that I wanted to shake it up a bit, to introduce an element of unpredictability. Whilst drawing a random outline is to all intents and purposes unpredictable, because I’ve done it so many times I suspected that I might have developed an unconscious pattern of movement, a comfortable way of doing it. So, I decided to ask my husband and daughter each to draw an outline to which I would then respond with a simple system of using the same width of pen and filling in each section with lines, ensuring the lines in adjacent sections are going in different directions. I also allowed myself the opportunity of leaving a few sections blank or treating them in a different way. I worked on A2 off white cartridge paper.

My husband’s:

This is the orientation it was drawn in and I prefer it this way as it gives it a feeling of instability, discord, of something melting. Anyway, the other way up it reads as a cyclist with a flat rear tyre.

My daughter’s:

The first thing that strikes me is the relevance of selfhood and the act of becoming. Becoming happens through entanglement with others and selfhood is shaped by those relationships, and the world around us. These images embody my relationship with the people who drew the outlines. I didn’t choose the outlines but I can choose how I respond to them, how I engage, how I attend to them. I transform the outlines with time and devotion much as I do in the relationships with my husband and daughter. They then respond to what I have done and all of us are changed by the process.

I really enjoyed making these images. The repetitive act of drawing the lines allowed me to switch off and to engage fully with the process rather than thinking about the result. I had no idea how they would turn out. The decision as to direction was made in the moment – it may not even have been a decision as such, just an intuitive adjustment of the angle of the ruler. I like that the mark-making is the subject of the images and consequently so is the process. The only active decision was which parts to leave out and how to deal with them. I love how the process is so evident – the times when the repetitive act and the sound of the pen on the paper made me lose focus and overshoot, how when I moved the ruler it left a spidery trail, how the areas where the lines cross form and edge which is at times irregular, creating a distortion, an interference, almost a vibration. Against the flat areas of colour the lines even appear to have a dynamism about them which I think is helped by the variation in tone – there are lighter areas where the pen is starting to dry up.

Whilst I was making them I felt content, as if two parts of myself were both being satisfied, balanced – the part which likes order and certainty and the other which likes the unpredictable and the unknown. There must be something about it which resonates with me because I subsequently went on to spend the following week experimenting with more images.

It would be interesting to see what the process is like involving people who aren’t experienced with making art to see how their outlines might differ in the sense that they might be less confident and their mark making more hesitant. Also, what about strangers? How might I feel responding to outlines which have not been made by people that I know?

Pushing Paper

27th Jan 202627th Jan 2026Kate McCalmont-Woods Leave a comment

I bought ‘Pushing Paper’ in the hope that I would find its contents enlightening, but primarily because I felt drawn to the cover. The image is ‘Some Interference’ (2006) by Richard Deacon, which he made during his residency at the Oxford Centre for the Study of Gene Function. According to the book, Deacon was initially trying to represent multiple surfaces on a flat plane – the paper splitting into interconnected layers. As things developed, he realised that what he was drawing was difficult to clarify.

Something about it really appeals to me. It reminds me of the doodle type drawings I’ve been doing (On Your Marks… & Lines). Aside from Etch-A-Sketch and Spirograph, this process entertained me for hours as a child. I would draw a random enclosed shape with overlapping lines which created segments to be coloured in. It takes me right back to my childhood. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to it. Maybe it’s because it embodies its simple process as well as having a temporal dimension – the act of drawing each individual straight line. I like the darker line which is formed around the edges of the shapes where the lines have crossed.

Well, whatever the reason, I picked up the nearest pen, a leaky biro, and had a go.

It was a very satisying exercise, despite the blobs and smears. The ‘me’ at the beginning of this course would have discarded it. Instead, the blobs and smears are all part of the process, caused by the movement of the ruler and my hand, a moment hesitating too long in one spot. Nevertheless, I’d like to repeat the exercise with a proper pen, maybe a variety of pens of different thicknesses. In the meantime, I experimented in Procreate.

The Liminality of Memory

23rd Jan 2026Kate McCalmont-Woods Leave a comment

The idea of layering has always been in the background. It could be in the form of separate physical layers or the layering of media, or the remediation of images. I wanted to explore layering the moving image over the static image. I have to confess to adopting Lyberis’s approach of the monotone audio on his 3-minute video. To me, it’s the sound of silence, the sound that sometimes keeps me awake at night when I’m convinced someone’s running a car engine nearby or there’s an extractor fan which has been left on. It’s not quite right at the moment and it needs some more work, but I’m quite pleased with it so far.

https://youtu.be/7WoXFzFttHo?si=z348Mf6AF6fxwkku