Trying to Move Forward

I decided to try and progress the idea of automatic map-like drawing by experimenting with charcoal. I drew a single line and then rubbed it out and repeated the process numerous times, building up layers of mark-making. I then took some coloured pencils and traced a path randomly following the marks.

I’m not sure that it takes me much further forward in developing this line of enquiry. However, I enjoyed the process and I like the different nature of the coloured lines which I made consciously by making decisions as to which of the paths of faded charcoal to follow, almost like a dérive – they have a different character to the ones I make when I draw automatically.

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the course, about being half-way through and what I would like to have achieved by the time it finishes – what work I might produce by the end of it. At the moment, the concept of mapping is at the centre of it. I want to produce something which reflects all that I have learnt during the course, about myself and how I relate to the world around me. It will inevitably be an artifact, a map, of some shape or form, but I want it to reflect a process which is ongoing, that will never be complete, a piece of work in a state of flux, constantly subject to change, so there has to be some sense of impermanence, of it being unfinished. I also want to encompass the idea that memory plays a large part in the process and much like maps which are constantly being made and remade, so are the memories on which the map is based. The idea of layers and distorted imagery seem to be relevant in this respect.

I’ve thought about paper and canvas, maps being folded and rolled , but I don’t think that these offer the ability to create layers in the way that I want. I’m currently thinking that I may make a number of squares which together make up the grids of a map.

I used a pen to try and keep a marble on the paper. I like the lines which were made as a result – they have a sense of fluidity about them, much more than the lines that I have been making up until now. I’ve been meaning to experiment with the size of the dots at the intersections, to see if different sizes create a sense of perspective and three dimensionality. I don’t think that I have managed to achieve enough diversity in the sizes – it was very much an afterthought – I’ll try again another time. The image makes me think of something neural, cognitive mapping?

I took some inkjet compatible transparencies and drew some lines to see if I could create layers. Unfortunately, they are not totally clear – they have a milky appearance, probably because of the coating which allows them to be used in inkjet printers. I need to do some research to see if this is the case or whether I can source some others. Having said that, the milky film does cloud what’s underneath, making it hazy, almost like a memory that’s not quite there. Ultimately, I’m thinking that I could use layers of acrylic sheets over a background image, possibly together with milky transparencies, some can be drawn, painted and printed on, and I can also include some cyanotype images as well a negatives. I could cut holes in some layers to allow direct access to layers below. The use of reflective surfaces would also add depth.

I layered up the sheets using small magnets which not only hold them stacked together but also act as spacers between the layers. I had to add one in the middle because otherwise the sheets would sag – this won’t be a problem with rigid acrylic sheets. The magnets themselves suggest impermanence, the ability to be easily changed.

Out Of The Blue IV – Something Borrowed…

Something blue.

On my wedding day, my mother lent me her handkerchief. I never gave it back; I wonder whether that means that it wasn’t borrowed but appropriated, and does that affect its power to confer luck? Probably not, as I only intended to borrow it, and besides as it was over 20 years ago, I think it conferred the requisite good fortune of my mother’s happy marriage.

What’s cyanotyping without a bit of lace?

I’ve also been doing some doodling. I came across an American cyanotype artist, Marie Craig, who uses highlighter pens on her cyanotypes, so I gave it a go on the prints which didn’t really work in Out Of The Blue.

It’s an interesting effect. I’m not sure what I think about it. Maybe it would work better on a different style of image, one with defined lines as opposed to the organic shapes in these images. I’m definitely not ruling it out.

I also took an unsuccessful print of the digital image I made recently and experimented with drawing on it in pen. I had no plan in mind, and just followed some of the shapes. It was a mindless activity, just doodling. Several areas are not particularly successful, but I like the combination of the cyanotype and the pen. I’m not sure how I might use it; I think that I need to explore using some different images.

Making A Sound

When I went to the Pallant House Gallery to see Dora Carrington recently there was another exhibition on at the same time: Maggi Hambling – ‘Nightingale Night’.

Nightingale Night VI
Nightingale Night X
Nightingale Night XIV
Nightingale Night III
Nightingale Night IV

Hambling spent a night in a woodland in Sussex in the Spring of 2023 listening to nightingales. I didn’t take photos of all of the paintings – I think I was only drawn to some of them on the day, or maybe I was tired from exploring Dora, but Iooking again at the images on the identification labels, I’m regretting not having done so.

I’ve since read an entertaining interview with Hambling about the exhibition in ROSA Magazine – I like doing further research after I’ve been to an exhibition; never before.

I’m not entirely sure what I think about it all. I’m not sure that I like the gold on the black ground, although I can absolutely understand her reasoning behind it, and I do like a bit of gold. Does she succeed in communicating the otherworldly divinity of the nightingale in the darkness? The sense of it, absolutely, but the sound of it? I’m not convinced, and I think it’s the mark-making. The swirls and definite vertical and horizontal marks are successful, I think, in representing sound; my issue is with the drip-like marks – they don’t allude to the beautiful song of a nightingale to me; it’s more akin to me having a warble and eventually running out of steam and giving up. But I think I’m being harsh, because even she admits that it’s impossible to paint the sound of a nightingale, and that what she hopes to have captured is a sense of the fleeting moment. She comments:

…there wouldn’t be much point in painting a picture that it was possible to paint…”

It’s an interesting comment, one to think about.

It would be interesting to know whether Hambling made the paintings from memory, or whether she played a recording of nightingale song whilst she worked. I’ve assumed that it is the former because it’s about the whole experience, of being in a certain place at a certain time bearing witness to something extraordinary.

I have been carrying on with my pen doodling, some of which is unfinished – I became bored, and moved on. I also decided to give nightingales a go. The concept of representing sound in a 2-D form is really interesting – the consideration of tone, volume, intonation, rhythm etc. I’ve represented it in a linear way, thinking initially about sound waves, but it would be interesting to explore other methods of representation.

The song is so diverse and improvisational that it was very difficult to think of different mar–making to represent what I was hearing. It was an interesting exercise, and very calming listening to birdsong with my eyes closed.

I like having an inked page – I think I will go through my sketchbook and randomly ink up or paint pages. I also like trying to work with unexpected events such as the solvent stains from the gold coming through to the reverse of the page. This is, literally, just playing – it’s enables a period of convalescence.

On Your Marks…

Well, the starting pistol has gone off, and I’m still sat here, procrastinating, allowing myself to be distracted, doing anything other than what I should be concentrating on: producing something for the pop-up show. My problem with deadlines is that I tend to ignore them until the very last minute – goal driven, that’s me.

What, with thinking about the pop-up and trying to come up with an inspirational text for Tuesday’s session, I’m feeling just the tiniest bit sick. I would say that I have stuck my head in the sand but apparently that’s a popular misconception: when they sense danger and cannot run away, ostriches will flop to the ground and remain still, attempting to blend in with the terrain – that sounds just about right!

Anyway, following on from my ‘Less’ post, I’ve been thinking about working with a limited palette and how it narrows choice. Using a pen narrows choice even further – just black and white and nothing much else in between. Using a pen forces you to think about mark-making in order to create tonal values and areas of interest. So, I’ve been using my time constructively by doodling with a pen in my sketchbook whilst listening to an audio book – who says I can’t multi-task!

I found the process of mark-making to be meditative and grounding, totally different from the anticipation of putting ink onto wet paper and waiting to see what happens. Strangely, I like it. I think I am a person of extremes: I’m either fastidiously tidy or chaotically messy; organised or haphazard; focused in on the minutiae or just wanting to see the bigger picture. Somehow I have to find a path along which both sides of me are satisfied.

I will definitely use pen again, if only as a way to order my thoughts. Going forward I think I should try to build up a bank of possible marks, almost like a painter might have a bank of colour swatches. Having said that, I’m mindful that I’ve still got to do a few things to which I’ve committed in earlier posts, so I think I need to embark on some self-accountability first.