Loads of artists live here in Wivenhoe. I walk the dog along the estuary most days, often with an artist friend, and generally bump into another one or two. One friend maintains that ‘when artists get together, all they talk about is money (or lack of it)’. Which has a grain of truth, but thankfully we do often talk about other stuff as well. I do appreciate this; it’s good to share thoughts, successes and moans with other people in a similar situation.
The other day I was told that Wivenhoe features in ‘Country Living’ magazine this month, as one of the ‘Top 10 best Artists’ Colonies’. I had a little look at the article in a shop yesterday and it’s true. No artists’ names mentioned, no photos of studios or work, just talk of the village being ‘attractive’ and arty and an easy commute into London, and ideas of house prices. (Yet again someone’s trying to make money out of artists, arguably with no benefit at all to us..!)
I’m getting into the studio a bit more than I expected to (given that it’s the school holidays). Hooray!
Silly really, but I feel compelled to add to my blog now, so that the portrait of my son won’t be the first work of mine that someone sees when they look at the Project Blogs page… This uneasiness about portraiture, I know a lot of artists and other arts professionals share it… I think for me it began the moment I first stepped through Central St Martins’ doors, aged 18. Thoughts, anyone? I’d love your comments. Now I’ll put up a different work to go with this post and probably feel more comfortable…
The fact that we artist-bloggers don’t just moan on and on endlessly about time and money is pretty incredible really. I know most of us (me included) have an ongoing battle with allowing ourselves any decent time in the studio to reflect and be really creative… I take my hat off to those artists who are the main wage-earner in the household, but there are also massive, complicated pressures on the rest of us (like me). This week I’ve actually managed very little time on what I think of as ‘my work’, though at least I’ve been in the studio a reasonable amount (working on a portrait commission, mainly – I’ve realised I’m going to have to start doing some portraits to make ends meet, until I have another show). Other than that there’s always the family to be looked-after (they’re cute and lovely but need time and care), the dog to be walked (ditto) and the house to be somehow managed (none of us are tidy and it all gets out of hand quite regularly). And the schools break up today for the Easter holidays…
Stop whingeing, Emma, and get into the studio! (At least I’ve got one…)
Manchester Art Gallery’s ‘Angels of Anarchy: Women Artists and Surrealism’ (2009) was a fascinating show. I’ve just been looking again at the catalogue this morning. I’d seen very few of the pieces before, except in books, so it was really worth going to.
The paintings in the show were certainly interesting, but for me, more on a conceptual and historical level rather than as paintings. The ‘stuff’ of the paint, and the formal qualities of the surrealist paintings I saw didn’t speak to me in the way I seem to need at the moment.
I was most struck by some stunning photographic work, particularly by Lee Miller, Francesca Woodman and my favourite, Claude Cahun (1894 – 1954).
Rain drumming on the studio roof, and music playing as I work; I’ve had a better day today, after a run of disasters. I’ve been working hard every day on paintings and drawings, all of which (except today’s) have ended up with ink or paint flung over them in desperation, or turned to the wall.
I cling to the notion that time spent painting is never wasted as long as one is honestly challenging one’s preconceptions and trying to be authentically experimental and open in a hunt for something true. I tell my students this all the time in the Life class, trying to get them to see that an afternoon spent crafting a slick, ‘nice’ (as they may see it) finished drawing might be of far less value than one in which a frustrating, messy time ends up with a crumpled, thrown-away piece of paper, if in the latter session they have really felt themselves stretched and challenged to look and see and work differently. Many, many sessions in my own studio – especially this week – end with no useful result in terms of paint on canvas that ‘works’. More often than I would like, a good passage in a painting is obliterated, to be replaced with something mediocre that I know cannot remain for long. It can feel dispiriting, but I can’t let it be. It’s only paint, it’s only canvas, it’s only time… don’t think about waste!
