But I feel as if I’m making some progress, and I’ve realised that I haven’t posted about it yet – I’ve been so caught up in it.
I took 3 70cm x 70cm canvases I had knocking around from a previous project several years ago. I did some automatic drawing on both of then using a fine liner pen, some charcoal and pastel. This step feels important as it has been my constant over the last two years.
On 2 of the canvases I used acrylic paint and soap solution to experiment with bubbles and also dropping the solution and blowing using a straw.
I love how you can see things in the shapes:
A goldfish and a skull:
I then applied glazes of oil colour, wiping back in some areas to keep some light.
I then applied a Prussian blue glaze over the entire canvas and wiped back:
I decided that I wanted to put the same shape on all of the canvases, the third being left blank apart from the shape which I’d print on it. I’d previously decided against the shape I’d used before, but then changed my mind. I like the shape and I’m going to use it as a repeating motif. So I scaled it up to A2 size and cut the lino this time using more organic lines rather than the straight lines I used previously.
I then applied some small lino prints to the red and blue canvas. I tried on the orange and blue canvas but it didn’t work so I wiped my trial prints off.
I then decided on the order of the canvases working out how the shapes might be arranged. I liked the idea of the middle canvas being quite limited but perhaps overlaying a piece of paper pulp lace as it’s reminiscent of cellular structure or membrane. I’m planning on stitching the outline of the third shape which is why I quite like that the canvas has quite a bit going on in it.
This morning I printed the first shape using the border from the lino as a stencil and using gold oil based printing ink and a sponge.
The next step is to make some new paper pulp lace as I’ve now got some konnyaku powder which should help the flow through the syringe and also make the paper stronger and more flexible. I’ll then print the shape on the second canvas once the gold ink is dry and stitch the outline on the last one.
Things have become rather unsettled at the moment.
I’m constantly battling the inner fear that all I will have for the End of Year Show is a couple of books, possibly, as I still haven’t made both of them.
I underestimated the signicance of a date, although I don’t know why as I mentioned the significance of anniversaries in April. It was the anniversary of the car accident at the weekend – old feelings and memories resurfacing, being re-lived. I can’t help thinking that a general feeling of sadness and uncertainty about the future is contributing to how we are feeling – both of our times at university are coming to a close.
To be honest I’m getting a bit sick of it. It’s not such fun – I haven’t been getting the proportions of pigment to washing up liquid to water right.
Anyway I’ve been doing some more experimenting over the very hot Bank Holiday weekend:
I discovered a new way of blowing in Instagram – the bubbles look more like eyeballs to me but I like the technique of dropping some liquid on the paper and then blowing with a straw so that it disperses in thin lines.
I like the white space in the first image. There are some good areas but the dark colour is too dark in places – I should avoid using the froth!. Also The green didn’t turn out as expected and my ratios were all wrong. I Like the second one and also the third one although I’m debating whether it is too much.
I have been experimenting on oil paper as I would like to try on a canvas and I want to experiment with putting thin glazes of oil paint on top.
I’m not sure about these, or whether I prefer the previous set. I think that I need to sit with them for a while. I thought the first one was too bright (maybe because I’ve been in monochrome for so long) and so I tried knocking it back with a dark grey, wiping out areas to bring back some lightness. I like that they are still open – I see cells, someone else might see a flower bed with hydrangeas.
One thing that I would really like to do is experiment with 3 dimensionality. I’ve always resisted being constrained by the canvas and usually go off it – what if there was something coming out of it; out at you – maybe keeping you away or possibly making you part of the work? I was thinking if I had a number of canvases (3 is always a good number) I could connect them with something like an umbilical cord ( thinking back to siblings and microchimerism).
I came across a recipe for stiffening material on Facebook using cornflour, sugar, water and PVA glue. It should have been white sugar presumably so you can’t see it when it’s dry. I only had golden caster. I tried it on a ribbon and some wool. It’s not that great. I think I’ll look at wire and organza instead.
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.
the visible lines the clarity of the bubble layerthe scratched gold shape and the bubbles on the mulberry paperthe effect of the background on the dark shapethe colours in the base layer and the gold shape added on with a brushthe disruption caused by the edge of the collaged piecehas a bit of everything in itthe pale grey contours
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?
It’s tempting to run away with ideas of further education – I’ve enjoyed this course so much and the research paper helped to explain a lot of things to me and gave me clarity in my practice. It is something that I would like to explore at a deeper level but is now or the imminent future the right time to think about it?
Aside from the commitment of time and the issue of funding, I think that rather than rushing out and trying to find a replacement for the course, I need to learn to practise and function in its absence. I need to focus on continuing to build sustainability into my practice in how, when and where I make. That’s not to say that there isn’t any space for personal development – there is and, as I mentioned to Jonathan in my last tutorial, I would like to improve my skills in a number of areas in terms of photography and film-making, and there are also some printing processes that I would like to explore. I will, of course, continue broadening my knowledge by reading and visiting exhibitions. But for now, it’s sorting out the physical location, carrying on implementing flexible time management (which seems to be working quite well at the moment), and thinking about issues such as building a website and maintaining my Instagram aacount.
I’m also going to carry on submitting work to open calls – since being on the course I have carried on my tradition of applying to the RA’s Summer Exhibition, unsuccessfully. I don’t think that I actually had any aspiration of being accepted; it was more a case of wanting to keep experiencing the feeling of rejection to make me resilient. I used to feel deflated but now I don’t really feel anything anymore, except perhaps regret at paying the submission fee. The only success I’ve had is with ING Discerning Eye last year, but even that had its own issues.
The sun was out today so I thought that I would take advantage and engage in some more playful experimenting.
I’ve been lining up my paper pulp lacey membrane sheets by eye – that’s not working and so I’ve marked the edge of the frame so that each sheet is a repetition around the edges which will then line up. I gathered the ones that I’ve made already together in a pile intending to reprocess them in the blender. They took on a 3D form which caught my eye – maybe something for later. I also quite like how they look when laid on white paper.
Then it was onto experimenting with bubbles using a mixture of inks and acrylic paints. I want to create a base layer onto which I will print, draw, paint, whatever takes my fancy. I like the idea of it being biological and cell like, hence the bubbles. I tried cartridge paper and the mulberry paper that I’m using for the book. The mulberry paper gives a much less defined edge which I really like. I tried masking with bits of paper – if I ultimately go down this route I’ll use something more robust and less inclined to buckle when wet, although it did provide some pieces to collage. I wanted to see if I could get a layer of lines below, so tried using a fine liner, a pencil and a combination of charcoal and pastel before applying the bubbles.
My first thoughts are to go with something that’s indicative of inside of the body and so I think that for now I’m tending towards reddish tones.
I liked the effect of the shadow cast by the stone.
I became distracted by the bubbles.
I’ve taped all my test sheets together ready for a layer of printing – I just need to get an idea of size and context for the printed elements. I’ve got together some off cuts of lino and made some shapes out of them ready to experiment with tomorrow morning. I’ve given the main shapes some further thought and decided that having said that they have an identity in my mind, I will not use them again. I might try using their outline, but I will probably cut a new shape most likely using loose lines rather than the straight ones I used previously, to give it a more organic feel. That’s the idea for now, but it could well change!
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.
I started this post a while ago. The act of going through all of my blog posts for the book and making the 5-minute video has encouraged me to think about the journey that I’ve been on. Sometimes I have so many thoughts in my head that I need to put them into words so that I can get some clarity and order. So, here goes…
I started this course thinking that I was an oil painter who enjoyed working with colour and shape. I’ve been looking back at the work that I was making two years ago. This is an example:
It still appeals to me – I like a narrative. It was made in response to the brief, ‘On Having an Outside’. I like a painting inside a painting, inside a painting and so on, and the use of a mirror, a play on Magritte’s ‘Not To Be Reproduced’. I thought about it a lot – the idea that we wear masks but in this case what you see on my mask is a reflection of you and how you feel about yourself which you then project onto me. It expresses how I felt at the time. I still like looking at it, but it does feel contrived, controlled, and static even though it depicts me turning to look at the viewer. I didn’t enjoy making it. I had a very fixed idea in mind as an end goal and so the process of making it was restrictive and frustrating. I kept at it until it was how I wanted it to be, what I thought was the best that it could be. It was all about the product and I was driven by my controlling perfectionist self. I haven’t painted very much at all over the last two years. I’m wondering why. Maybe I should?
These are screenshots of some of my recent Instagram posts:
I look at these images and I like what I see, but most importantly I remember how I felt when I made them. I felt free, unencumbered, excited, and intrigued. Interestingly, they are predominantly monochrome, exploring mark-making and movement.
I’ve been wondering what to do. When clothes don’t fit me I sell them or take them to a charity shop. What should I do when my work no longer fits me? Treat it like a photograph of a younger self maybe, a reminder of where I’ve come from?
The last two years have revealed many things to me:
I am happiest in the process
I am at my most productive and enjoy making the most whilst in the process and without a defined end product in mind. One of my mantras used to be that without intention there can be no expectation. I think that was useful in the early days to keep my focus on process, but I’m not sure that it’s strictly true because I experiment and explore with intention. Furthermore, the making of the book is a very intentional act with an end product in mind, but the specifics of how it looks have developed in the process. I think that the difference is that the book itself is not important save to the extent that it is documenting my process and the making of it has allowed me to develop further, as well as to reflect on the last two years.
I don’t need to be in control
Embracing the process has allowed me to give up control and it is now the foundation of my practice. It has helped me better understand myself and has changed me. It has allowed me to see that there is a direct correlation between my behaviour in making and my behaviour in life. It has taught me that in moments of personal overwhelm such as becoming a parent and caring for my mother my instinctive reaction was to try and exert control over circumstances. This behaviour fed through into my making. By allowing myself to give up control by experimentation in making, I now realise that I can deal with uncertainty in life and rather than trying to control it, I should lean into it.
I don’t have to makewhat I like or like what I make
Just because I love to look at Surrealism, works heavy with narrative or full of colour does not mean that is the kind of art that I should be making. Viewing and making are two entirely separate experiences. Because I am privileging process over product I may not always like what I make – what is most important is what I experience in the process. Just recently, I have been working more with video and I’ve realised that this actually gives me a means of exploring narrative.
The meaning of my work is in the process
As in the example above, I used to start out trying to make work that already had meaning. Now, the meaning comes out through the process of making, and the finished piece embodies it in some way. That doesn’t mean that I begin without any direction—I often still start with a line of enquiry or an idea—but it isn’t fixed. It stays open, changing and developing as I work.
I can embrace both the accidental and the incidental
I now feel more comfortable with accepting responsibility for the accidental within the process, and I actively look for the incidental and often go off on a tangent.
I want to be able to choose whatever process or material seems right in the moment
I don’t want to restrict or pigeonhole myself. I refuse to attach a label to myself either as an artist or as a person. I want to be able to choose whatever process or material is right in the moment. I don’t want to limit my ability to experiment or to discover new languages of expression. I live and I make.
I need some soft structure
I think that there are two distinct areas of my practice – the experimental side which is exciting, uncertain and can be overwhelming, and the side which is more of a structured wandering, for example, repetitive mark-making. I’ve commented previously that the act of drawing line after, or even now more recently, stitch after stitch makes me feel contented – it’s as if there is just enough structure to provide a frame for my attention yet loose enough to allow for response. I’ve also been using motifs such as contour lines, automatic drawing, my father’s silhouette etc. throughout the course, and it is really only recently that I understand why that is a feature of my practice. I have accepted that I can never rid myself of the perfectionist self and the soft structure provided by the repetition keeps that part of myself happy.
And my Study Statement?
Since the first year I have thought from time to time that I need to change and update my Study Statement because I’ve wandered off course. In it I was very specific about how I was going to approach things. I had an end product in mind (what a surprise!). Instead of exploring all of the different roles that I’ve had in my life, complying with my detailed workplan and finding out who I am, I naturally deviated from my plan and later made the conscious decision to embark on a dérive contemplating those things which seemed important or of value. To have amended it would be to remove the evidence of my progress and my process. I’m not the person I was back then – I am becoming and the prescriptive framework of the Study Statement would have limited that becoming. Thinking about it even some of the categories on this blog are irrelevant.
Kate McCalmont-Woods 