Felt quite stressed yesterday even though I'm on a break (of sorts): car troubles, finances, bills, the negative stuff that always surfaces to shatter one's hope that things are beginning to look up for a change. So, I decided to take an hour out, in order to keep calm and carry on...
Drawing of a tree (coppiced), in the woods - wax crayon, watercolour and watercolour pencil - in a sketchbook, about 9" x 12". I was surprised that this study took me about twenty minutes - I probably should have spent longer on it, but I can always return... I will need to if I want to discover what species of tree this is.What is it about trees that is so fascinating to draw? Their gnarled trunks and writhing branches and limbs, the sinewy, spindly twigs, the downy covering of moss or the crust of lichen, the crags, crevices, ridges and striations in the texture of the bark - echo aspects of the human condition or form, and thus become imbued with some character - but with no deceit - genuine, pure, unrefined, resilient. It is often said that one should always draw just what one sees, not what (one thinks) one knows - that is, to translate through material marks the visual sensation or experience in the moment, and not try to reproduce a convincing reality, since reality is prone to being influenced by cultural factors - what is deemed as being (or looking) right or wrong.Having a conversation with a tree is not so loopy as it at first sounds, if one interprets converse to mean an exchange (not necessarially in words or speech). Oddly, converse also means opposite. When one draws one hopes to break down or unpack (as we say in education) the complexity of the situation - the shapes and forms, in the perceived effects of light and shade - a largely neurological process. If I observe a tree as magnificent or beautiful then it becomes a projection (of my opinion, not a fact) and therefore not a clear perception. A tree presents itself as (or just is) interesting due to its pattern of growth in the location. The tree's existence (or rather its appearance) then induces some contemplation and reflection in the viewer, and thus begins a type of conversation or discourse between the viewer and the subject.This particular tree (which may be about 200 years old) continues to grow despite previous injury - it slowly grows new branches and limbs, as a means to later reproduce itself, securing the future or survival of its particular species. As I begin to observe and draw, it reveals its wounds, and its personal history - how the bark has cracked and splintered according to the growing conditions, of light and water, how its basal branches have grown, bent and leant according to the dappled light of the woods, and as with the other trees nearby, all following the path of the sun's rays. The tree becomes food and shelter to assorted organisms. A tree that seems concerned only by its own survival is a temporary host to others. The others may in fact aid the tree's dispersal of seeds. The light covering of moss on the bark softens its rough edges, it seems modestly camouflaged, and looks to be clothed for inclement weather. This tree is clearly different in form to the others, it has an individuality. I want to preserve that individuality and so the surrounding trees are only suggested with the lightest of marks in the sketch, but it seems important to retain some of the setting - such as a glimpse of greenery through the the criss-crossing of spindly growth in the middle-ground. The primary trunk of the tree is firmly-rooted within a frilly, soft skirt of curled brown leaves, broken twigs and compacted soil.I chose not to (nor did I have time to on this occasion) record every nuance or intricacy of texture or surface as I was sat too far away to see sharply - so I focused on the three main branches and how they seemed to diverge, taking their separate paths to the sunlight. As I drew I realised that first few lines that I put down on paper were following quite truthfully the vertical path of growth, from the base of the main trunk up through the main branches, limbs and twigs and into the light - but then I ran out of a surface on which to draw (the paper). So, it was back down to the ground, and then extending the drawing outwards, beginning to set down the wider scene. Out came the wax crayons (acting as resist to the later watercolour) which being quite chunky, wanted to be dabbed, dotted and scrawled. I was fascinated by the vibrant green of the velvety moss and the dusting of algae, which, in a shaft of sunlight, looked almost chartreuse. I used some watercolour pencils to sharpen and define the tree and a little watercolour to flesh out and solidify it - but then my time was up - time to head off home.There is a another (dual) aspect to observational drawing (for me) - which is, the challenge and the commitment. A challenge to unravel the complex truth in what you perceive, and a commitment to working through this with some form of material, concrete resolution, even if there is little time - in that what results on the paper is cohesive and sincere, sensitive to the subject matter, intelligently and thoughtfully rendered. It is not practical to spend hours on observational drawing due to other commitments - so I find myself always sketching quickly - and then I curse myself for forgetting some fixative, a particular colour of pencil (I take just the ones I think I will need), another (larger) sketchbook, or another brush that would better suit broad sweeps of colour or texture. Photography sometimes replaces the need to look long and hard at things in the way that drawing requires, so I made the decision that when I plan to go out sketching I will not take a camera.Of course, drawing this tree didn't solve any problems (except perhaps how to draw a tree better), but it was a much-needed breathing space. I spied the skip of a muntjac, saw a squirrel race up a tree, and some flustering pheasants squawked and scattered in a nearby clearing. Aside from the rumble of a passing tractor, I was also privileged to hear the myriad sounds of life in the woods... a hollow knocking (tap, tap, tap, and then silence, then tap, tap...), some low, long creaking...N.b. Coppicing is a form of woodland management, but it also extends the life of a tree, providing more fuel (logs) over a longer period of time than if it was left to grow normally and then eventually felled. Thus, this tree has yet another (hidden) historical narrative...
artworks, an exhibition
Another farmscape, finished, box-framed and finally sent out into the world... (it's a poor photograph due to it being hastily taken last night with a flash)...
[Farmscape II, chalk gesso and acrylic on canvas, 60cm x 120cm]I will be exhibiting some works with the artists' collective Artworks, at the Wingfield Barns Arts Centre. Artworks is a group of thirty professional artists based in East Anglia - covering the diverse practices of painting, printmaking, sculpture, installation art, ceramics, textiles and glass. The rural setting of the barns is fabulous for contemporary art - and there will also be affordable art for the smallest of budgets, including art cards, small 3D works and mounted drawings, paintings and prints for sale. The exhibition opens this weekend, and it runs from 10th to 25th April 2010, open daily 10am - 5pm.As a new member of Artworks, I am looking forward to seeing the whole exhibition and meeting the other artists involved. During the exhibition some of the exhibiting artists will be doing art demonstrations - including myself - mine is loosely called building up textures - specifically to working on paper with mixed-media and layered monoprint processes.I trawled through some of my photos to find some images that I felt might explain how the abstract canvas above, farmscape II, came about... (not that I ever work directly from photographs; taking the photographs helps with the memory of a visual experience)...some recent farm photographs...
...Again, I see parallels with the pattern of the wider farmed landscape, which some choose to see as somehow naturalised, of the raw elements...
[norfolk field, winter]
[suffolk field, spring]...R.I.P. Malcolm McLaren
on van gogh, trees, skies and birds
I went to see the current crowd-pulling exhibition at The Royal Academy this week, The Real van Gogh: The Artist and his Letters.... What person doesn't feel an affinity with the life and work of Vincent? The passion, the determination, the frustration, the rejection, the anxiety, the joy and the sadness. I have been twice to Amsterdam, to the excellent Van Gogh Museum and the equally splendid Rijksmuseum, so even though I feel quite familiar with Van Gogh's early and later works, it did not deter me from wanting to visit this exhibition. To see the exquisitely detailed pen and ink drawings on some of his letters was delightful, despite the annoyance of the inevitable crowds of people, huddled and jostling for a closer view. You can read and view Vincent Van Gogh's letters online...I was most captivated by his early drawings and paintings of the Dutch landscape, because of their similarity and resonance with the East Anglian landscape.
Vincent Van Gogh, Pollarded birches with Woman and flock of Sheep, March 1884In a letter to Anthon van Rappard in March 1884, on his landscape drawings (including the one pictured above), Vincent wrote that: I always count it among the possibilities that some day or another I’ll find an art lover who would like to take them off me — not one or two, but 50, say. [...] If I didn’t have to, I’d most certainly much rather keep studies, at least, for myself, and I would not want to sell them. [...] I sometimes think about not doing anything else except pen drawings and — painting.These drawings revealed his raw determination to understand the landscape, free of the subsequent stylistic influences such as orientalism, pointillism and impressionism, as colourful and energetic these later oil paintings are to view in reality. It was most inspiring to see so many of Van Gogh's many studies of trees together, the pollard birches and contorted willows... and I even attempted to quickly sketch one or two details... I am inspired to return to sketching in the woods once again...
[sketchbook studies of Van Gogh's tree drawings]...Three hours later, as we headed back to the train station there was just enough time to quickly see the soundscape installation by the French artist Céleste Boursier-Mougenot at the Barbican Centre. Here is a video clip of it on YouTube.I found this exhibit both delightful and mildly unsettling. The birds (Zebra finches) seemed happy enough and unconcerned by our human presence. At one point, most of the birds gathered together in a playful formation and elegantly swooped and swerved between us, or rather between one end of the space and the other, from one musical perch to another. I then noticed that one of the finches was not as active as the others; it was huddled on a guitar, its feathers puffed up and with its eyes closed, and so I felt I had to tell the invigilator that I thought it looked sickly. I am sure they thought I was being overly concerned (no animals are harmed in the making of this artwork...) What would Van Gogh have made of this art installation, I wonder, or indeed the enduring fascination and attention surrounding his art and life? In the Royal Academy shop there were tea trays, fridge magnets, necklaces, in fact every conceivable Vincent-inspired commodity except perhaps chocolates in boxes...On the final drive home it was nightfall, and in the skies were near-black, heavy rain clouds, magnificently set against the light of the full moon. On arriving home, I proceeded to draw this view from my immediate memory, three quick impressions of a night sky with dark clouds, in ink pen...
Seeing the work of Vincent van Gogh once again, reminded me that to be an artist you have to scratch beneath the surface of things, you have to be truthful and honest in your search for the meaning of things, you must see and interpret things through your own eyes and not be totally steered by the eyes, ideas, words or opinions of others...The Real Van Gogh: The Artist and his Letters at The Royal Academy is on until 18 April 2010.Céleste Boursier-Mougenot's' installation at The Barbican Centre (free admission) is on until 23 May 2010.