I wish there was money in art. Then I could do it every day, forever. It was a lovely day today. I just immersed myself in art for the whole day. Eleven hours. Those public school students have long days … but I wasn't complaining.
Once Emma had shown me how to make two-part moulds from modrock I was away – feverishly making moulds of my beloved relics. I was desperately smoothing the last few strips when Charley came round to switch off the lights and lock up at 7.45 pm.
In an earlier interlude, I took a small group of Year 13 students to Cley church – a fantastic medieval church nearby. The students' brief was to gather information – sketchbook, rubbings, photographs and especially video – to work with over the next two Monday sessions. It made me want to start a new project based on Cley church: what a place! And they even had apples in the porch to help yourself to.
Yes, I know it's Saturday, but Gresham's is a boarding school and the art department is open every day of the week. Well, actually I'm being let off Sundays, and I'm taking up that offer, as there is still so much to do here.
It's very much like two separate worlds that I'm existing in at the moment. The art department offers so many opportunities to paint, draw, print, sculpt, cast … and if I think of any extra materials I'd like to use, I just have to ask Charley and he will happily get them in for me. I have to pinch myself!
But that world is far removed from the world of my computer and printer – not forgetting, of course, a fine selection of cupboards – that I've already invested a great deal of time – and money – in working with. While I'm at school I try to think about the stuff at home and work out how everything might fit together in the exhibition, but it's only at home that I can get more of a perspective on the necessity of being true to my own practice when push comes to shove.
Meanwhile, I unmoulded my plaster relics this morning. Some of them have potential, while others needed to be remade slightly differently. So it was out with the squidgy clay and gooey plaster again. Fun! And in the way that these things often happen, when I peeled the clingfilm off the moulds I suddenly found I had the makings of another piece of work …
This afternoon Dan was running an adults' etching workshop in the department. Like everyone else I encounter at Gresham's, he was incredibly friendly, and I felt able to ask him for a few printmaking tips. I'm thinking of working with candle wick on a soft ground, using my own body measurements.
But not tomorrow. That's a day off. Sort of.
I was a bit nervous this morning, as it was my first teaching session with a Fourth Year group. The subject was – as it will be for the entire seven sessions with the group – POPPYHEADS! Well, what else?
I talked a little about Festial, and showed the class several examples of the different ways I've used the poppyheads in the pages of Kalender. I gave each of the students a photograph of one of the poppyheads in front view and profile, and they'll be using that image as their source to develop in various ways. It seemed to go OK, and some of the pupils even said 'thank you' as they left the room. I'm still getting used to the politeness I encounter at the school!
During the day, Emma showed me how to make press-moulds for plaster casting, and my workspace is now full of drying plaster relics. Can't wait to see the results tomorrow!
Thursdays are 'mornings only' – welcome in many ways – but the morning whizzed past as I worked on four more poppyhead monoprints. I'll have a look at them when I get in tomorrow, but first impressions are that none of them quite cut it, despite (or perhaps because of) my determined working and reworking of the plate.
I just don't draw in my practice!
So why am I drawing on plates?
Is it all right to have a go at something just for the challenge – even fun – of it when you have a solo exhibition to put up, three weeks today?
Is my ineptitude endearing? Is something being expressed in the hand made image that is not apparent in a photograph? Is it significant that I put so much concentration into the work; so much of myself?
Maybe the value of the exercise has been in kicking me out of my comfort zone. On the other hand, surely it's OK to know where your strengths lie and work to them, rather than insisting on humiliation because you, as an artist, should be able to turn your hand to anything?
I can't decide.
My first full day at Gresham's. As a school for the seriously privileged, I had wondered how I would handle my ambivalence towards private education, but I soon settled and, if I'm honest, even revelled in the luxury of the first-rate facilities and impeccable behaviour of the students. And the teachers, Charley, Emma and Tara, were very friendly. And just don't get me started on the subject of the magnificence of the school dinners!
Having watched some groups of students doing monoprints and etchings, I realised that I just needed to jump in and have a go. Before my arrival, I had imagined mostly continuing with the work I'm already engaged in for the show – digital imaging, video and so on. But it's clear that I'm expected to participate in the messy, hands-on stuff that the department specialises in, and it seems a waste of an opportunity if I just do what I would have otherwise been doing at home.
Trouble is, there's still a lot left to do, and the residency finishes on the show's hanging day. So I'll have to work out some kind of a balance. Also, the resident artist usually shows work produced during the residency, and I really don't think I'd want to show my tentative experiments in printmaking and painting.
Meanwhile, Life Drawing this evening was fun, once I'd cast off my 'I'm useless at drawing' inhibitions.
www.world-tree.co.uk/festial
