Gillian L-B, Untitled, January, 2016 [Acrylic on wood], A1
This completed work consists of multiple layers of acrylic paint built up with wet-on-wet and wet-on-dry paint. The paint was applied using various sizes of grouting tools which behave in a similar way to squeegees though the edge of the smaller implements are fine and sharp. This edge can be used effectively as a mark making tool. Under pressure the implement tended to mix colours rather than create the marbling effect I expected. The only white light available in this painting emanates from the scratched out (drawn) lines caused by exposing the white ground.
The white light is too limited to afford a restful place for the eye to pause. The scored out lines are edgy and agile like streaks of lightening – unpredictable and potentially dangerous as they cut across newly formed coalitions of paint. I feel that this painting has a primitive quality which generates a sense of destruction and potential.
The following photographs show earlier stages which involved a wide range of pale colours mixed with various mediums. Structure gel, including one containing tiny glass beads resembling sand, were applied in an unadulterated form and mixed with paint to add a variety of textures to the smooth surface.
I worked on wood rather than canvas as I want a hard rather than spongy surface to work on. I want to be able to scrape and scratch into multiple layers of paint using as much force as I feel is required. However, I want a textured rather than smooth surface as the 3D textures, together with scrapings and scorings, provide additional areas of contrast, diversity and a gravelly sense of layering and palimpsest.
This board was rotated throughout the painting process – painted portrait and landscape.
This section from an early stage consists of acrylic paint mixed with various mediums applied to the wood and allowed to dry. “Allowed” is an interesting choice of work as once I begin painting, I generally have no desire to pause. I applied structured gel to add a variety of textures which add shadows and resistance to overpainting. The scoring and scratching is made using various sizes of palette knifes.
Two visitors provided very positive feedback on this stage. However, I felt the colours at this stage were too tame as were the gestural applications of paint. I applied some paint using a sponge which produced a misty, cloud-like quality but I felt that this approach to painting was a too understated – too sedate. Some of the scoring was so deep it showed the pre-primed board.
Darker blues were applied; then wet-on-wet white and red to break the cycle of events from one stage to another. I felt strongly that each stage needed to have something unique to add to the evolution of the overall identity of the painting.
After whiting out the background, I began to apply colours in blocks. To eradicate the pale white tones now turning pink, I applied strongly contrasting deep ultramarine blue and hot orange.
This section of the board shows the diversity of the marks made using a wide range of applications of paint and scoring all of which was performed at speed without premeditation. I felt that it was important that I could respond positively to the painting holistically as well as in small sections.
This picture surprised me as it reminded me of Howard Hodgkin whose work I have not examined. Interestingly, when I looked up his work I found the one shown below entitled: After Visiting David Hockney (first version), 1991 – 1992. I had been to the same exhibition and loved the idea of painting the same land and treescapes in each season thereby capturing a sense of continuity despite the considerable visual differences. See video of Howard Hodgkin at the Gagosian Gallery, Paris, 2014, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jd4q4lxHbpQ.
I work in a reverse way to Hodgkin who says that his work is always “pre-planned but trying to understand it is a waste of time”. I am open to pre-planning but I tend to be analytical and cannot imagine not reflecting on my work to develop my understanding of it at some level of consciousness.
It struck me that knowing when an abstract painting is complete comes in part from knowing what gives it a sense of continuity despite undergoing an indefinite period of turmoil and palimpsest. In this way it is like human life – growing-up over time through events which transform us. Sometimes when we have drawn on all we know we can move on – changed – not utterly transformed but markedly so.
This picture shows a section being drawn into by scratching out paint; there is no predetermined logic to the marks though sometimes an area calls out for further intervention – cutting into with energy and light. These slivers of light sometimes obliterate beautiful lines of paint or run beside them for a while or intersect them – they have their own contrasting/complimentary language. These drawings do not come before painting. Some drawings begin during painting. These often only remain as traces beneath new layers of paint. Those drawings which arrive after the painting is complete are the last live communications I record before the silence of drying.
