Doodles

I'm trying to keep up with technology. A great excuse to buy an iPod Touch, and to find a free App called Doodle Buddy. It's got a very restricted palette, the screen is quite small and you have to use your fingers to 'paint' so before you even start you know that we're talking rough marks and approximations. But hey! It's not called Doodle for nothing!

I've found it great for a spare 5 mins, when the sketchbook and pencils are somewhere upstairs, and it's just a quick visual memo of what we've been doing. Here's a few of the results:

Gerhard Richter

A quick visit to Tate Modern to catch the Gerhard Richter exhibition. What a painter! I had no idea that he covered such a variety of styles and techniques. Indeed, it left me wondering if he had multiple personalities: how can someone paint this one day:

Orchid Orchidee

and this another?:

Cage 4

The curation of the exhibition deliberately makes just such contrasts, and helpfully explains some of Richter's motivations: repudiating the statement that painting is dead. But if it is alive, what is it doing? I've also found his website which includes some really interesting videos.

Above all I was enthralled by his large abstract pieces, often referred to as the squeegee works, because he uses that tool extensively. I was encouraged by his attitude to chance - allowing the process to determine the outcome, rather than planning in advance. There's so much to look at in these works, I could stand there for hours finding layers under layers under layers. And such amazing colour combinations...

An earlier work, but created with a similar philosophy was this grey painting:



Grau 1970



Aparently he put blobs of black and white paint randomly around the canvas, then took a brush and joined them up, moving it around until all the canvas was covered by paint. It fascinates me how much depth he's achieved, and how distinct each pass of the brush is. And then it's also inspirational...I want to get out the paint and see what I can do with a similarly restricted methodology...but maybe not black and white...maybe a bit of colour?

Christmas lino cuts

There's no better excuse for getting out the lino and the cutters to make something festive for some Christmas cards. But what image to use? I tried a simple tree, but it didn't look right, then I found a 5 pointed star which is kind of chunky and friendly - that'll do. Here it is in various trials with ultramarine ink - such a lovely rich colour!



I masked the star shape on the top two prints with some plastic sheet, cut to shape, and then I embellished three of the prints with yellow felt tip, to add a bit of contrast.....

But somehow these weren't coming alive enough...so another, more complicated, block was born, which made prints like this:

I tried it first with flat colour, but it just looked flat! Here I've used the (I think) Japanese technique of getting the roller to blend two colours. I think it gives depth to the design. I also tried it from blue to red:

It's more sombre, but has a certain rich velvety quality.

Then the combination of blue star below and dual-colour block on top:

Not easy to get the registration right....I'm pleased with the result! I can't seem to get even colour without a press, but the blotchiness adds another dimension - a bit like an old, worn out cushion.

And when I used yellow tissue paper as chine colle, I got this:

I've really enjoyed myself! And I've got some cards to send out as well....

A visit to Pau

The Musee des Beaux-Arts in Pau was rather a disappointment. I expected a rich, historically important town like Pau to have quite an art collection. They're very keen to tell you about the Degas 'cotton office in New Orleans', maybe because it's one of the few good works.

However, I did stumble across Roger Lambert-Loubere's 'Corbiere Vermeille'. I found this photo here  when searching for links. Sorry I can't put it up here, as it belongs to the self-portrait taker.

There is currently an exhibition of R L-L's work in Lille.

Le Printemps de Septembre a Toulouse

This is one of the few modern art programs in Toulouse, which is surprising for such a go-ahead place. We managed to catch the exhibition at Les Abattoirs - a fantastic space of old red brick arches and modern glass walls. This year's theme is ' d'un autre monde' (from another world), and collected together 14 international artists who channelled elemental energy in their work (well that's what I understand from the intro to the programme).

I particularly liked Sergei Jensen's work. He has a strong textile history, so he has canvasses which comprise two pieces of cloth stitched together, or he's 'painting' with bleach and dyes ( I learned this from listening to the presentation made to a group of 6 year olds - how great to see this stuff at that age)

Then there was Joe Bradley who (I learned from another group of youngsters) was just looking to have fun with his paints. This is the result - lovely textures!

Patterns in the waves

Taking the ferry to the continent, I became mesmorised by the patterns of the wake of the boat.

They reminded me a bit of the lino cuts I was working on earlier this year. I've put them up here to remind me to do something with them....

wishful thinking!

Australian prints at the British Museum

Australia is such an inspiring place - the flora, the immense landscapes, the light, the colours, but also the sounds of birdsong, the smell of eucalyptus, that edginess that comes from the recognition that nature is so much greater in all senses than us little humans.

I have always found the works of Aborigine artists so powerful - they are tuned in to the natural rhythms, and you can feel that connectedness. They demand attention, wanting to communicate their meanings with such all-consuming intention. I feel inadequate because I don't understand, but I so want to! How much we have forgotten in our race to protect ourselves from nature's forces.

Even something as simple as Dorothy Napangardi's crossed lines of dots is so much more than just that. If I did rows of dots they'd be lifeless, but you follow hers as if they were waymarks on a footpath. This image is of a painting in acrylic, whereas the British Museum had a different print, but the overall effect was similar.

I was also taken by Fred Williams work, and even though he's not an indigenous Aussie, he's let the land speak to him. I'd seen some of his work before in Australia, and it's interesting how at a certain point he suddenly starts responding to the landscape with small caligraphic marks representing the sparse vegetation.

 

Giuseppe Penone and Richard Long

I've already been to see this exhibition at the Haunch of Venison twice, and I love it. Here is the film of the installations

Penone's work has such sensitivity in his exploration of and work with trees. In his hands they have souls. I particularly liked the block of wood carved away to reveal it's core of branching tree. I know this isn't new, I've seen much larger examples of his in Tate Modern, but maybe the smaller scale even made it more delicate and essential. 

And just as impressive, but for their huge scale, were his drawings of hugely magnified cross-sectional tree structures, graphite on matte black paper. They looked like maps, or emormous brass rubbings of even larger skin, and then as you moved and the graphite reflected the light, positives and negatives exchanged places. And when you look closely, the mark making is lively and quite loose. Very, very beautiful in a less-is-more kind of way.

Richard Long's work for me divides in two; between the representation of his walks by words (which I don't really get) and his installations, like the circles of stones, which I am drawn to. The one here that really made me reflect was the one made of a circle of rounded, white stones lying quietly side by side in one layer on the floor, bisected by a jagged line of dark grey flints, all fighting for position, balanced against one another precariously, and menacing anyone who might approach. Binary oposition in all it's force, and it works.

Royal Academy Summer Exhibition

Thanks again to Helen to her invite. We were lucky that it wasn't too busy so we could peruse at our leisure. It seems as if the RAs are all patting themselves of the back. I kept seeing work by the same people in several different rooms, and, other than the first big room, lots of walls with scarcely anything on them (looking a bit scabby!) as if someone had been too mean in their selections. Having said that, I found these gems:

Cape Cod by Ashley Hanson

Without any labels to any of the works, it took me a little while to recognise this as a kind of map. The colour, the texture at the boundaries reminding me of de Stael's work. And his website reveals even more colour and greater abstraction. Someone I'm sure I'll come back to.



from Dusk to Dark series, by Clare Winchester


Clare Winchester aparently uses oil paint wiped across waxed board to create these images, so she explains on her website. To me they resemble drypoint prints, partially wiped to produce monotypes. Hmm...inspiration to get those printing inks out.....

And then how could I ignore Gillian Ayres or Barbara Rae? They both produce such amazingly colourful work. So here are two treats:



Star Spangled  by Gillian Ayres

Ceanthru Thaidhg by Barbara Rae

Last month I just happened upon the closing day of an exhibition at Adam Gallery in Cork Street of Barbara Rae's paintings, prints and sketchbooks. There's obvoiusly a whole synthesis of stuff going on which then allows her such freedom of mark-making. I've just read and interview with the artist on the RA website which discusses her working methods: pure acrylic pigments applied to the paper, then lots of fluid on top so that the pigments merge. Sounds like an interesting experiment I might have to try......

There was obviously heaps more at the RA show, but these for me were the highlights...and they are enough inspiration to be getting on with....

Ray Atkins at Art Space Gallery

Ray has a show on at the Art Space Gallery in Islington until 22 July. Do go!

Having got to know Ray, and his work, over the last couple of years, I still marvel at his talent. With almost random marks of colour, he builds a complex layering of paint that up close looks lively and free and completely abstract. But step back and suddenly you are in a landscape which rises and falls, is populated with trees, meadows, paths and hillsides, all quite solid and real. And when you know the landscapes he's describing, then the sense of place is all the more tangible.

The only issue I have with the current show is that the gallery is small, and most of Ray's work is huge, and really needs to be seen from a distance. In some cases, it's just not possible to get far enough away from the works to really take them in.

Abstracting the townscape

I found this two day course held at City Lit, and thought that it would be helpful, since my art attempts often seem to want to go that way. But I really don't know what I'm doing or why...so go and find out!

The first day was spent sketching the townscape from the balcony, paying particular attention to shapes and how they overlap. Then in the afternoon we started transferring these shapes, painting them in restrictive palettes - shades of grey with hints of green/ red, and then orange/blue. Here are my efforts:

I wasn't very inspired by these paintings - the muted colours are not my cup of tea, and other than colour change, I didn't feel I was moving to abstraction. But time was short, and I was feeling a bit confused about what I was trying to achieve with these explorations.

I did become aware of how powerful neutral greys can be; any hint of colour near them is that much more vibrant. 

 Homework: to find an artist I like who abstracts townscapes.
I've found Paul Klee's Red and White Domes. I love his endless variations of colours and the atmosphere they evoke.

And Peter Joyce. His are landscapes, not townscapes, but I like the way the textures and layers of the paint take over from the forms. And yet, his website shows how closely his works relate to the photos he takes.

Second session: I worked on two paintings, inspired by these two painters: Paul Klee (watercolours) and Peter Joyce (acrylic) . Both of them using layers to build up an image.

We were encouraged to consider the repetition of shapes, angles and lines - and the effect that they have on the emotion of the work. Here are my second week paintings:

Working on an easel meant my thinned down paint started dribbling very early on, but actually I liked that! The diagonal band of purply-brown has also become too solid on drying, and therefore too dominant. I should have broken it along its length.

With the second work I was looking for texture; lines of undiluted paint applied with a palette knife, creating ridges and spots of intense colour, which would then be obscured in part by the translucent over-layers. I had wanted to scratch through the paint to under layers, but acrylic dries so quickly I didn't get there fast enough. I mixed the top layers with some PVA to reduce the opacity of the paint, and that worked well.  

 

Bricks in pastel

A few minutes to spare and needing to draw something..anything. As we were tidying up we found some bricks, which found their way onto my table, so they were it. I thought I'd play with my oil pastels and this is the result:

I'm pleased with how it's gone, although the top brick looks a little like it's got a long red nose!
I was trying to follow the suggestions of Susan Sarback in 'Capturing Radiant Colour in Oils' - blocking in planes of colour, then modifying them to relate to each other, varying them across the surface. I think the lucky coincidence of the turquoise table being complementary to the yellow ochre bricks has something to do with the whole thing too....must work more on colour theory......

Went to see the Watteau drawings at the Royal Academy this afternoon.

Such economy of line to evoke posture and clothing. They're quite small too, so how did he make such fine work with chalk? Interesting to read how he used firstly red chalk, then later added black and white chalk.The results seem to produce blues and greens as well...not sure how.

Also at the RA was a small room of  Frank Bowling works on paper.

How colourful is that? And he works in acrylics. Interesting textures from gel combed out from the centre line. Indeed all these works had a strong central line.

Art in Islington

As I'll miss Ray Atkins' show at ArtSpace Gallery in Islington next month, I wanted to go to the current exhibition to see what was there. And this is what I found (below). As usual, it is huge, and animated by such lively strokes of colour. I never cease to be enthralled and inspired by Ray's work.

The show of his work opens on 24 June. For a taster, the catalogue is reproduced online here, but his work really needs to be seen in the flesh. Photos just cannot do it justice.

In the same gallery there was also a painting by George Rowlett - paint so thick it looked like icecream, and I wanted to lick the colours.  This is titled Poppy Fields in Wind and Rain 2007

Then down the road at the Parasol Unit was Yinka Shonibare's  installation Jardin d’amour, originally shown in Paris. We walked through maze-like passages created by high, ivy covered trellis panels to find clearings with headless figures in scenes straight out of Fragonard or Watteau, dressed in elaborate costumes unsing Shonibare's trademark textiles, right down to ribbons on their shoes. It was beautiful, thought-provoking, exquisitely crafted work.

And somehow the fact that they didn't have heads only made you appreciate how much the gestures of the bodies made the story. Heads, and therefore facial features,would have been a distraction.

Chelsea Art Fair

Thanks to to Helen for the suggestion and Helen's Mum for tickets to this show last weekend, selling works for people to take home and live with. So there were many fewer conceptual pieces than in many London galleries, and quite a lot of rather mundane portraits and landscapes and still lives, but among them a few artists I wanted to note:

Ellen Bell: thoughtful and delicately created pieces using strips of printed paper from specific books or with specific words. Often they wrinkle or curl up from the surface giving a further texture to the piece. 

 

Heidi Koenig for stunning colour. Her website has other different tones, but how could I resist the red one?

Next to Heidi Koenig was Byron Gin - layers of paint stripped back and peeled away.

Andrew Hood for figures and landscapes that are kind of there, kind of melting into a lively ground of layers and splatters of paint.

I laughed out loud at this: Lisa Swerling's Glass Cathedral series, boxes full of sparkle and miniscule figures. The message above this one reads: 'The World is a scary place, but I have Armbands'. Fabulous - gives us all hope!