Michael Landy is a British artist, probably most famous for his artwork Break Down (2001), where he destroyed everything he owned. However, I am most interested in the series of works that Landy created after the fact, called Nourishment (2002). These works are a collection of life-sized etching prints made of the weeds that Landy saw and collected as he journeyed around London (Taylor, 2003). To me, the most fascinating elements (and the elements that I am going to investigate and explore here) are the prints themselves and the level of detail which Landy has achieved in them.
Creeping Buttercup (Landy, 2002):
This is the etching Creeping Buttercup (2002), in which Landy has very carefully represented the entirety of the buttercup plant. Although very clearly an etching, the print is not unlike other botanical illustrations I have studied, where he has used simple line drawing and shading techniques to create a detailed outline of the plant. Additionally, this print (like all of Landy’s in this series) is placed in the centre of a white page, isolating it in the centre and allowing the eye to be drawn entirely to the subject and not become distracted by any other features. This is something that I aim to achieve in my own works; creating my illustrations on plain white pages highlights the detail of the plant and again emphasises its importance.
Landy has carried the theme of importance carefully throughout this series, and raised it to the prominent position of being one of the main themes (for me) – taking something so commonplace, and often ignored and looked down upon; transforming it into a beautiful artwork, which people will treasure and enjoy. It is possible that when Landy was making this work, he was consciously elevating the downtrodden, because of the life and position that he had placed himself in after Break Down (2001) – having destroyed all of his possessions, thus putting himself in a very similar position to the homeless who, like the weeds Landy drew, lived on the streets on London and were looked down upon. Irrespective of whether this was the impetus behind elevating these wonderful plants from their previous societal position, the illustrations certainly change the public opinion of them, as very few would be able to view the etchings and not feel moved and in awe of these little plants; their intricate network of roots, stems, leaves and flowers, which all work in absolute harmony to support the plant, but that are also hardy enough and adaptable enough to survive in such hostile and urbanised areas as London and other cities.
When looking at the work, it is very clear that Landy has studied these plants meticulously; capturing every little detail, every root, every fold and contour of the petals and leaves and the branching of the stems has been observed and recorded. As I mentioned previously, the technique (although a etching) that Landy has used when shading and outlining appears to be very similar to the ‘dotting’ technique that I use when illustrating herbarium specimens. Additionally, the composition of the plant also reflects this, as although there is an undeniable 3D structure to it, the shape of the plant appears to be flattened, in order for Landy to capture the entirety of the Buttercup. In spite of this similarity, the drawing feels very different to the ones that I have produced – it feels much less scientific and more emotional than botanical illustrations, which I think fits with the narrative and context of these illustrations – they undeniably have a much more emotional and subjective background and ‘life’ to them.
Shepherd’s Purse 2 (Landy, 2002):
As it is part of the same series, this etching is very similar to the previous, and has the same narrative and backstory. However, it is undeniable that this etching feels much more delicate than the previous, partly due to the structure and form of the plant itself, but also partly due to the depth and tone of the print. The depth of the blacks in this print are much less than those in Creeping Buttercup (2002), which automatically creates a suggestion of heightened fragility and ephemerality. This sense of fragility acts in the print’s favour however, enticing the viewers to look closer, and delve much deeper both into the art, and the narrative of the image. This is something that I am attempting to achieve with my own work – including great levels of detail, which then forces the viewer to not only look closer at the work itself, but also spend much longer looking at it, and therefore thinking about and the purpose of the work as well.
