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.