honeysuckle....Vessels

Work ongoing on the honeysuckle frame; printed paper; stitched together and onto the frame. It's tough on the fingers. I use a thimble. I need to bind the frame together with less 'twist' in the honeysuckle. It has a tendency to pull in different directions, which makes the stitching even harder. More thought needs to go into the initial frame. A steep learning curve!

Ursula von Rydingsvard

Wonderful exhibition at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park.
She uses commercially cut lengths of timber, and builds them up organically to make sculptures. The above 'mama, build me a fence' is lengths of cedar leaning against a wall. The wood has been cut, and drawn upon by graphite and chalk. 

 'Hemorrhaging Cedar', above, is a cast made from abaca paper (which comes form a rare species of banana). Von Rydingsvard makes a cedar-wood relief, then creates a cast. Hanging on the walls of the Underground Gallery, it looked like cloth; below is a photo of the cast, close-up.

A knitted coverlet, made by the artist's mother. Exhibited at the YSP. A connection to Von Rydingsvard's interest in the domestic world of women, and the peasant background she came from. There was a collection of farming, and domestic implements on show; objects she's collected over time. I loved this exhibition. A mix of grand gestures, massive sculptures, and smaller drawings. Showing a fascinating mix of materials (stitched cow's stomach, anyone?) and techniques. The exhibition's on until January 2015, so I'll be sure to visit again. It has depth, and layers which I think will lend itself to many visits. 

maze for yorkshire; loose threads

A maze for Yorkshire; a bright red one. Made of MDF.

By the artist Richard Wood.

A maze for summer. Gone now, like the migrating birds.

Only here for the sunny, summer weather.

 But fun while it was here!

The maze; the Georgian building of the Orangery; the flags flapping beyond; and the backdrop of newbuild flats and offices.

A maze is not a labyrinth.

Why? Because you cannot get lost in a labyrinth; there is one way in, and one way out. It's unicursal. But a maze is something where you can take wrong turnings, and get lost. Ariadne didn't need to leave a trail of thread in the labyrinth to find her way back from the minotaur in Crete.

She would have if it was a maze. 

Even labyrinths and mazes lead to loose threads.



hexham abbey

Hexham Abbey has some mighty weird medieval carvings inside the building. The one above is part of a series of about 8, which reminded me of Aztec sculptures. This one has 3 faces; 4 if you count the one like an animal at the bottom. My photos were taken using my phone; hence the strange quality. I tried with and without flash. The old problem; too dark without flash; too bleached out with flash. But it does give some idea of the strangeness of the carvings.

 A more conventional head/portrait.

And a rubbish photo of a sarcophagus. But the folds of her dress are identifiable.

ammonites

Some public sculpture in Wakefield.
Carvings, with the identifiable spirals of ammonites cut into the stone. I couldn't resist photographing these, being interested in geology. The marks on the stone made by the cutters are lovely, too. Don't know if these were hand or machine cut. But the marks are a connection to the person who made the sculptures, and I like that. Almost as if it's a thumbprint from that artist; a mason's mark. Something of that person, left behind.
I quite fancy going along and making a rubbing of these. Collect those marks onto paper. As I'm using the Labyrinth spiral for my textile course, this sculpture seems to resonate with me. Hard stone; soft fabric. Echo back, amplified.

ice age art @the British Museum

 

Last Friday I visited London to go to the British Museum. It was the last few days of the 'Ice Age Art' exhibition, which finished today. Above is an engraving on the tip of a Mammoth Tusk; which, it is thought 'may' be a 'map'. As I'm very interested in maps, and how we envisage our environment I spent a long time peering at it. 

 

Above is the 'Zaraysk Bison'; also carved from mammoth ivory. It was found in 2001, in archaeological layers dating from 22,000 years ago. This is an exquisite carving. I spent a lot of time gazing at it. I almost expected it to breathe, and walk out of the display case, such is the skill of the carver.

 

 

Above is a linocut from Victor Pasmore, from 1952. 

In the catalogue Jill Cook writes how Professor Semir Zeki, a neurobiologist 'proposes that it is the function of the visual brain to "seek knowledge of the constant and essential properties of objects and surfaces." (and) This information is then transformed through abstraction or metaphor to mimic or perfect the received knowledge in some material form'.

Though I haven't read the catalogue yet (well it is huge!) this seems to be the hook that the exhibition is based upon. To relate modern abstract art, to art made thousands of years ago. 

Which is funny to me; because much of the art shown, was very representational, as can be seen in the Bison carving.

I'm not convinced; it's true that Modernist artists of the 1930's were enormously influenced by so-called 'primitive' art of the past, as can be seen in Hepworth and Moore's sculptures. And ancient art created a bridge between modern representational art, and the development of abstract art in the twentieth century, this is true.

The British Museum exhibition seems to present these artworks as 'Art'. Which to our modern view, they most certainly are. The skill and craft on show, display the work of artists. What is missing, or was missing from the display, (but which may be explored in the catalogue?) was a larger context. 

We can never know why these pieces were made; we can never know why some of them seem to have been deliberately broken (eg; the leg off the bison, above), and thrown into a pit. These objects are a mystery. Western anthropologists have given us insights into tribal societies, that suggest 'art' is not made for purely 'artistic' reasons in those cultures. There are other purposes. Ritual; religious; spiritual purposes. Which was missing from the exhibition; though may be addressed in the catalogue? 

I hope so.

But whatever my thoughts afterwards, nothing can interfere with the beauty of these carvings and engravings. I feel so privileged to have got to this exhibition. To have stood in front of them, and witnessed their timeless connection to the world.

    

 

studio #3....Bonfire Night

When I was inhabiting A13 studio in Westgate Studios, I had fantastic views over the city, and to Emley Moor mast...which until the digital age, delivered our television signal, locally.
This was a particularly grey, yet glowing sky, from winter 2008.

Today I've been working in my home studio; with the heater on I was nice and cosy.
I was putting together my City and Guilds portfolio, for my course tomorrow. It was great to sit and spend some time on it. The day's been bright and sunny, though as the light has faded, the temperature's dropped, and it's got very cold.
The cats are all sitting in front of the fire; and I've made sure they're all in for the evening, as tonight is Bonfire Night, and there are fireworks going off all around us. We're keeping warm and safe, away from all harm.

Last Friday I went to Leeds, and called into the Art Gallery, and the Henry Moore Institute next door. 
There was a small exhibition of Helen Chadwick's photographs. Large, cibachrome, richly coloured photos. She used flowers, fruits, and household cleaning fluids, such as Windowlene, and Swarfega. She also used Lime & Lemon marmalade, and Germolene, to give vibrant colours and textures to her sculptures, which she then photographed! They are beautiful. I love the way she incorporates ordinary 'domestic' materials into her artwork. 
Well worth a look, on the Henry Moore Institute website, here

A little Birdhouse In Your Soul

This is one of the bird boxes that Jon and I made a couple of years ago. One is hanging outside the living room window, and can be seen from the sofa in the sitting room, and was inhabited this spring; another is attached to a tree in the front garden; and this one has yet to find a home!
Now that autumn's here, and the leaves are falling, I'm hoping to find the perfect spot for it. Somewhere I can observe it, in case it becomes a home for new bird families. Being able to watch the birds fly to and fro this spring, as they fed their chicks, was wonderful. And all from the comfort of my sofa!
I didn't paint up to the entrance hole of the box, as birds sometimes peck to enlarge it, and make it more comfortable for themselves. Depending on the paint used (I used acrylics) this can poison the birds. So I decided to play it safe, and leave a gap.
The birds need all the help we can give them.
I've just heard on the news this week about thousands and thousands of birds drowning in the North Sea. Land birds such as robin and thrushes, somehow lost their bearings, and ended up out at sea, and were found drowned by sailors. Boats out to sea, found themselves used as perches by birds, who were exhausted, and needed to rest, before flying off again, desperate to find land.
See this for photos.

sarah lucas @ Leeds

Above is the cover of Sarah Lucas' catalogue from her exhibition at Henry Moore Institute in Leeds. The sculpture, 'Gourd', is a cement cast of..well, of a gourd! One of a series of cement casts of fruit and vegetables. 
The catalogue reads;
'her concrete marrows and squashes have the fullness of the votive vegetables offered to fertility gods around the ancient Mediterranean.'
I like the contrast between the softness of the fruit and vegetables, and the hardness of the concrete; the greyness of the cast, with the real-life colour of the grown produce.

Below is the sculpture, 'The King', created from casts of plaster and wood.
The catalogue says of 'The King', that it is 'a mechanistic spiral of dagger-like paired plaster penises suspended over wooden blocks.'
I saw a whirling wheel; a swastika; a cross; an altar; a circle; action; movement. Delicacy of structure - it hangs from wires looking as though a sudden draft would cause it to fall. And solidity of materials - casts of wood and bone.
It has memories of archaeology too; the ancient picks used by neolithic people, made from deer antlers, with which they built Stonehenge, Callanish, and sundry other stone circles and monuments.

The catalogue says of this exhibition;
'In 'Ordinary Things', a selection  of thirty-one works spanning 1993-2012, these processes take in cutting, moulding, handling, stuffing, displaying, and assembling , utilising conventions that move from the monumental to the ready-made, the formal and quick-build, via the representational, abstract and true-to-materials.'

and;
'Lucas' use of found materials could be straight from the strategies of Arte Povera, that loose grouping of artists whose sculptures are resourceful compositions of objects and materials bearing the traces of use, responding to changing economic and artistic contexts.'

and;
'Sarah just didn't think about making art that could easily be exhibited, or sold, or archived, or consider the practicalities of flogging it. In that way...her work was women's work, done because it had to be done, for its own sake. Its currency, like the flesh of the animals and vegetables Sarah uses as a medium, was soft and vulnerable, not hard and bankable.'

looking at sculpture

Last summer on the Isle of Islay, I found lots of these carved grave-slabs. Warriors, lords/lairds, men-at-arms, men who in death, were carved with the necessary weaponry in their hands.
Some of the carvings have weathered, some are quite crudely worked. Others are exquisitely carved.

I'm not a 3D artist; I work on a flat surface. But I am intrigued by how sculptors work, and fascinated by their skills.
This is more of a relief carving, than a 3D, in the round, sculpture. But in my head, it's sculpture.
Currently on in Leeds, at the Henry Moore Institute is an exhibition by Sarah Lucas, one of the famous YBA's. The exhibition is called 'Ordinary Things', and Lucas has created sculpture out of everyday materials; tights, wire, shredded newspaper, wood, plaster bandage, concrete.
The concrete casts of vegetables are lovely. Her uses of wooden posts (what look like fence posts in fact!) to mount up smaller wood, and cast sculptures, is simple and effective. And raises ordinary-ness of everyday materials into art.
Some of her work is less effective for me; I didn't like the 'NUD' series, made from stuffed tights. But these do have a fleshy realism; as though limbs or intestines. A bit stomach-churning.

And in Leeds, I collected the tickets to see Patti Smith! H'ray!

Richard Long @ The Hepworth Wakefield

Two of Long's characteristic circles.

The top one is titled, 'Cornish Slate Ellipse' from 2009. It's as it describes itself, an ellipse shape, rather than a pure circle. The slate is grey with very smooth tops, and people with me said the blocks looked painted. It had the look of a raft, with slats of wood lashed together, or field patterns, seen from high above.

 The circle above, is titled, 'Blaenau Ffestiniog Circle' from 2011. This has lots of colours in the slate, which is sharp-edged, and spikey. Perpendicular, as opposed to horizontal. Colours included black, greys, browns, ochres. These slate pieces come from Wales. It echoes the mountains of Snowdonia, and the Welsh landscape.

Chun Quoit 3

A postcard of Hepworth's plaster for the sculpture 'Chun Quoit'.
Careful observation will show the differences in my drawing!

Chun Quoit 2

This is the drawing I did at the Hepworth a couple of weeks ago. It's of a sculpture that Barbara Hepworth made. It's a small drawing, in an A5 sketchbook.
The sculpture was titled after the neolithic tomb, that I drew in situ when I visited Cornwall.
It was good to see the sculpture, after knowing about its' existence for years!

Chun Quoit

The pencil drawing I made of Chun Quoit in Cornwall. 
This is an A1 version I did, after the smaller sketch I made in situ. 
It's a passage grave that Barbara Hepworth used as inspiration for one of her sculptures, which is on show at The Hepworth Wakefield.
When I went to the Hepworth on Sunday, I did a small pencil sketch of the sculpture. 
The sculture is nothing like the real Chun. It's smooth, and upright, with an incised circle drawn into it. The stones of the passage grave are heavy, rough, and marked, though not by any workings that can be seen. Though I'm sure the stones were worked in some way.
As I wasn't allowed to take photos, I can't put up an image of the real sculpture.

Malta - temples

As I was looking through my photos from Malta, to illustrate the post about Divine Women, I remembered this photograph I took at one of the Temples. There are lots of temples on Malta and Gozo, and I wasn't there long enough to see all that I wanted to. 
But what did strike me during one visit, was the way this stone had been cut; it's a doorway, or a window. 
An entranceway. 
A liminal site. 
And I immediately thought of Barbara Hepworth's carvings, with the characteristic 'holes' she carved.
I love all these connections and re-visitings. 
That carvings from Neolithic times resonate with sculptures created in the twentieth century, and with me, in the twenty-first century. 

Divine Women

I've been watching Episode 1 of 'Divine Women'. It was wonderful to see the ancient sites I've only read about in books.


And the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford has an extensive collection of Goddess figurines. It reminded me of the Goddess figurines in Malta, in the National Museum there. Museums are never friendly for us camera users, understandably. But above is one of the photos I took in Malta. They have case after case of goddess figures. It's quite astounding.



The programme is still on BBC iplayer at the moment. 

The Pinafore of Self-Esteem

The pinny of self-esteem is created out of flip chart paper used in  a self esteem course.
From the angle of this photo it has a look of a boat, complete with sail. I like that association; especially after the origami boats I created for the March ArtWalk.

Yorkshire Sculpture Park - MIRO

Off to visit the YSP last Tuesday, to see the big Miro exhibition on there. I liked some of the work in the Underground Gallery. The large black bronzes (tautology?) outside were too solid and...well, black, for me!

But there was a lovely quote from 1959, on the wall of the Underground Gallery which I thought worth repeating. Particularly as the grounds of the Sculpture Park could be regarded as a massive garden.......

  'I think of my studio as a vegetable garden. Here, there are artichokes. Over there, potatoes. The leaves have to be cut so the vegetables can grow. At a certain moment, you must prune. I work like a gardener or a wine grower.

Everything takes time. My vocabulary of forms, for example, did not come to me all at once. It formulated itself almost in spite of me. Things follow their natural course. They grow. They ripen. You have to graft. You have to water, as you do for lettuce. Things ripen in my mind. In addition, I always work on a great many things at once. And even in different areas: painting, etching, lithography, sculpture, ceramics.'

The River Dearne; birches; blackthorn in bloom; all signs of spring on the way. The land beginning to awaken, open, and push us into the coming season.

Reminding me, I too need to get my gardening gloves on, and begin the work of planting, and tending. 

And remember, 'Everything takes time.'

TED talks; Janet Echelman

Look out for JANET ECHELMAN's sculptures. Her website is

http://echelman.com

and her sculptures are there, as well as the recent (8 June 2011) 'TED TALK' she did. It's on YouTube. Shows off the starting point of her sculpture; she started out, hand tie-ing nets with fishermen in India, and creating these light, fragile, but voluminous sculptures.
Since then, she's created lots of public art, and has shifted into more hi-tech materials.
They sway and move in the wind; are brightly coloured. More like ameoba, or jellyfish, than engineered, sculptural, machine-made 'objects'. They are incredibly delicate, and maintain a softness and delicacy belied by their manufacture.

Birdbox/Sculpture 1

A shadowy photo of the not-quite-completed birdbox I recently made. It is now finished, and I put it out in Westgate Chapel, for the ArtyVan event a couple of weekends ago.

In the last couple of days, a blackbird family (who didn't use any of the 3 birdboxes we've got up in our garden; and didn't nest in this one, either!) who'd built their nest in the hedge made up of clematis and honeysuckle (do birds have a sense of smell?) finally left the nest, and as of today, have left our garden.
It's been a bit hectic, as we have 2 cats, so we've been keeping them in, and keeping an eye on the fledgeling.
Yesterday morning at 4am, we were both to be found peering out of the upstairs window, watching it as it perched on the trellis, waiting to be fed by ma and pa blackbird. Its high-pitched, one-note 'peeeep' was the only noise we've heard from it; obviously telling ma and pa it wanted feeding, but otherwise keeping quiet to avoid the attention of predators. Mr and Mrs B. were hopping about, with beaks full of grubs, trying to get the fledgeling to fly to them.

By Friday afternoon, it was perched in the ash tree; Mr.B popped a red berry into it whilst I was watching at a safe distance. In the evening, it was to be found in the vine; I got to within 2 foot of it. It remained very still, and Pa blackbird was hovering close by, keeping an eye on me.
This morning, there was no sign of any of them; I'm feeling a great sense of totally undeserved pride, in the successful rearing of a blackbird chick! Obviously nothing to do with me; but it felt good to think they'd chosen our garden to nest in.
The garden seems very quiet now, without them. The blue-tits are coming back to feed. I think Mr and Mrs Blackbird scared off most birds form our garden whilst they were bringing up their fledgeling.