How I Work

Yesterday, Saturday, I went to the ‘Write Me a Picture Workshop’ at the Stanley & Audrey Burton Gallery in Leeds Uni.

This session, lead by Suzannah Evans, was attended by ten artists and/or writers, mixed age group and experience. Suzie started us with an exercise of imagining an old photo in our possession and writing a response to it.

It was interesting how diverse the approach (as group responses always are), and how each person immediately engaged with the subject in the 10 or 15 minutes allocated. We were invited to read our efforts, and across the afternoon everybody felt able to read their work at some point.

Suzie then gave us examples of other writers’ work – for example Self-Portrait by Adam Zagajewski, and The Hunters in the Snow by William Carlos Williams which refers to a Breughel painting – and we then used pictures in the gallery for our own work.

The first exercise, again only 15 minutes or so, was to describe the work. I chose a large abstract by John Hoyland 30.3.69, a glorious field of red and orange.

The next piece was as narrative, to be part of the picture, and I looked at two very different paintings. The first was Ceri Richards’ The Violinist 1948, an exuberant representation of a violinist and her piano accommpanist, and the second one was Malcolm Drummond Chelsea Public Library 1920, a quiet subject quietly portrayed.

It is interesting today, as I reflect on the session, how much of those paintings I remember, and indeed of others that I looked at during the afternoon.

Perhaps the enduring lesson for me is that ‘just looking’ isn’t enough, writing the picture is important too. So, thanks, Suzie for the inspiration.

I just have to write up the work, do some illustrations, compile the resultant book and make a few copies. Onwards.

Thought for today: The value of white space.

I’ve been working in charcoal on paper recently, revisiting some ideas from way back. I like the richness of tone that comes from charcoal.

Mixing different types of stick, rubbing back and indeed rubbing into the surface builds up complex layers. I did that with Out of the Forest, and I tried something similiar with Fern 1.

This drawing is based on the interwoven fronds of a woodland fern, looking directly into the centre. The tonal scale is relatively short, there being no proper white nor intense black. This would have been called a ‘soft print’ back in my black-and-white photo printing days.

I then drew Ash 1, another woodland scene but this time of the damaged trunk of an ash tree.

Out of the Forest and Fern are both drawn on paper primed with white paint, which makes the charcoal sit on the surface. Ash is drawn directly onto the cartridge paper, and so there is more charcoal held in the fibres.

The immediate result of this change in the characteristics of the materials was that the black-white contrast was hightened. My original intention was to use much more subtle shading but (for the moment) the white space is working hard for me, and I like it. Tomorrow I might not like it as much, but as ever the injuction ‘stand back and wait’ seems a good one.

Exhibition success! Two entries in the Harrogate Mercer Art Gallery Open Exhibition have been accepted. http://tiny.cc/4j1g6

A charcoal drawing (how retro) Out of the Forest and Shadow, a small painting acrylic on canvas. Is acrylic as souless to you as it is to me? Oil is a much more living medium.

I read elsewhere a comment that unsuccessful entrants for exhibitions should get their money back. Is this unrealistic? I think so, the entry fee is a commitment you make to back up your professional work. All exhibitions are a form of advertising, and indeed for many people are vanity publishing.

It is very costly to maintain premises and put on exhibitions; if the gallerist (yuk term) is carrying the costs of paying the selection panel and all the other overheads then the entry fee for the artist is a small contribution to those costs.

Mind you, the entry fees I have paid over the past 12 months to various organisations begin to add up to a significant investment.

I heard a young artist declare ‘as an emerging artist I should get funding’. Why? Do emerging plumbers get funding? Artists are artisans, workers, professionals of one sort or another. Learn your trade, get work, get paid. Now, where did I put that sponsorship form?