Studio Saturday - a couple of shelves

Encouraged by the clear surfaces, but appalled by the general pandemonium, I took my camera into the room "to photograph a few details" - ie, without the clutter.

The overflow of my cloth bag collection hangs in the studio -

 ... next to the bookshelf, on which were two old atlases, from 1928 and 189? -

The embroidery on top of the books has its own history, dating back to the 1990s.

A quick look through an art catalogue turned up some more ideas for the upcoming reduction print -

 This possible starting point is from "Ernabella Batiks" book -

Also among the books was the calendar put together by Camden Age Concern, illustrated by artworks based on items in the British Museum.

It was made for CQ's "Celtic Connections" challenge in 2009. Machine-quilting the rust fabric put an end to quite a few needles as they hit heavy-metal patches.

In no time at all, two short shelves were tidy, even roomy, with a few books de-selected for redistribution when that becomes possible. (A pile is growing, in a dark corner.)

Studio Saturday - mornings in the studio

It's so enjoyable to sit in the studio every morning - with my back to the mess that must be tackled someday. The table by the window is mostly clear - but this week there were lots of shavings from the "Anni" woodblock

 Kinda like a great cloud tumbling over a tiny landscape...

One bit of fooling around involved cutting holes from magazines - I wanted circles that were part dark, part light -

 Nice big punch -

 Strange things appear through the holes -

 and the cut pages can be arranged "interestingly" -

 as can the circles

Not sure where this is going! Waiting to see where it might lead...

This is a collection of bits of blue tape removed from my cutting mat -

 and a rubbing taken. Again, just play.

The worktop was clear enough, thanks to a burst of clearing up and throwing out, for laying out some inky drawings that surfaced -

 "channeling Munakata and Carli Accardi". And using "chinese money".

Sometimes I spend rather too long looking at instagram, and sometimes an image calls out to me -

After awkwardly starting drawing in the little notebook, I found that if I "liked" doing it, it flowed. Looking harder made it look better. I'm quite pleased with the results -

Woodblock Wednesday - irons in the fire

I was bowled over by the exhibition of Naoko Matsubara's work at the Ashmolean (till 2 October) - she lives in Canada and has given a collection of work from her 50+ years of printmaking to the museum. Munakata was her mentor in the 1970s, but this collage of prints is an example of her recent work -

So much exciting work to muse on... Several days later I'd drawn some Korean-inspired stuffed shapes, with a view to making a woodblock print - 

I couldn't resist a bit of colouring-in, but essentially it awaits development -

Also I added sky - or snowy mountains, depending on how you look at it - to the postcard prints started last week -

The large cards didn't take the "ink" well, so in today's printing session I added a bit of bokashi. Seeing all four with that brownish strip just plonked on makes me feel more than ever that my efforts here are kak-handed, but I'm not sure what I would or could have done differently. However, singly they don't look so bad ...

Today's session also saw the emergence of "Eclipsellipticality" (or possibly "Elipticlipticality", based on the recent partial eclipse of the moon, which I finally finished cutting (it's small - 8cm high). The first layer (midnight blue) was looking good

 but got obscured by the purplish darkness of the subsequent layer (you could say it was, er, eclipsed...) -

I can see a few things to improve but would rather start all over with this one. The geometry has gone wrong somehow...

All next week I'll be doing a summer school in Chinese woodblock printing. Will it be different from the Japanese methods? I shall try not to let my bad habits get in the way of following the tutor's instructions!

Drawing summer school - day 5

The most important thought, for me, that came out of the "check in" session at the start of the day (or was it a pep talk?) was the idea of consequence - once the drawing is finished, is there another that needs to be made? I think this could be a way to link the empty page and its possibilities with the intensity and unthought thinking that has gone into previous work, while that spirit is still fresh. 

I also think that thinking is not the way make a drawing ... there just needs to be a starting point for the interaction of artist&brush to happen, for the ink to find its path around the page.

People settled down to follow their own plans

... and although I sort of knew what I'd be getting on with, I decided to review the work of the past four days.

These were may favourite pieces. I'd been looking at all the breath&ink drawings and saw one that I really liked - dark and gleaming and compact, just a little frilly edge. On reflection, it had qualities of modesty and intensity, humbleness and eagerness. I looked for an indication of who had made it - it was me! I was truly startled, and tucked my pleasure away to be examined later.

The line drawing with carbon paper, the inky painting, and the blind drawings also pleased me in various ways.

 All around, people were engrossed in what they were doing, and I was procrastinating.

To start, I want to finish - or finish with - the Uphill Struggle, to see whether the random tendrils could be tamed. No, it was a mess and always would be, something without valid intent or aesthetic outcome. I think I might cut it up and sew it back together, or tie the pieces into a bundle (as Susan Hiller does with some of her canvases) and seal it in some way, char the edges perhaps and then dip them in wax, or add so much paint that they become the sides of a brick. Or cut into very thin strips and weave them into a (waste)basket. Or cut into A4 and write very short letters to MPs on the back. But that's for later.

Finally, time to start on The New Thing. I'd got up early and started catching up on writing blog posts about the course, and when it came to writing about breathing&ink&blobs there appeared A Fully Formed Idea. It was a good moment.

I sorted out the components:
- to make compact but large blobs (no tendrils) drawn by the breath
- each on a separate page (the page to be the size of my hand)
- holes in the middle, for the book to breathe (where did I put that large punch)
- a concertina book (quick and easy format)

Before leaving home there was just enough time to choose a paper (not bright white; somewhat sturdy) and cut it to size - 10 strips with four pages each.

I mixed some washing-up liquid into ink, poured a little ink onto the paper, and started.

The first one

The entire sequence 

The last one

After feeling like the lame duck all week, I was surprised by my own work, by the way it could develop (under some pressure) in about two hours, from splodge to nuance as I dealt with the nuances of the technique. It ended up better than I could have imagined, and while I was doing it, all sorts of associations were rushing into my brain. I wrote them down. 

For "the exhibition" (two drawings each) I set out the final two strips. 

To end with, details from some of the work in the final display -

 

Quite a range of marks, of ideas behind it, of ties to their usual work.

Thanks to the Drawing Room for organising the course; to the tutors - Sarah Woodfine (Tuesday), Jane Sassienie (Wednesday), and Marcus Coates (Thursday); and to Tania Kovats (Monday and Friday) for leading us all through the undergrowth and out into the sunshine.

Studio Saturday - this week's research

Textures in a photo displayed at Charing Cross station

how a manga artist shows a jazz riff 

more textures from the Manga exhibition at the BM

ceramic AND woodblock inspiration from Yo Thom's work at Contemporary Ceramics

shadows so often go unnoticed

unusual sky...

... echoed in a coffee cup ...

... and perhaps in this glass bowl

rediscovering a book on my shelf...

... and lusting after this one ...