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.