In January we had our annual holiday, taking time out in Southern Scotland in our RV motorhome. On our return I was back in my studio drawing simple maps, trying to make sense of my relationship with the Isle of Mull where we live. You see, we hope to leave here this year and start on a new journey in our van.
The map drawing didn't last long and I started to abstract the Isle of Mull shape into a simple triangle. Using graph paper as a simple structure to draw from my marks became stitch like, imitating fabric and thread.
The map drawing didn't last long and I started to abstract the Isle of Mull shape into a simple triangle. Using graph paper as a simple structure to draw from my marks became stitch like, imitating fabric and thread.
As we prepare to move back into our van I am slowly 'de cluttering' my studio with a desire to use what materials I have left in it without adding too many new ones! I have some tissue, Japanese scroll, tracing, and hand-made cotton rag 'Khadi' paper which I would love to use up before we go...
Last year I was stitching into the tissue paper. I really like it's delicate and translucent nature. It is quite fragile.
In between drawing I've made a batch of hand-made books using up my stash of packing paper that you get in parcels, and left over drawing paper which is marked and 'un usable' in it's marked state. The aim is to use these instead of A4 pads, and I like the idea of recycle, reuse, 'make do and mend'... There are more books than this. They look like old school exercise books. Each has a pocket to put things in, and each sheet is perforated so I can tear it out if I wish to transfer the paper/notes to somewhere else (I keep notes and clippings interleaved in my reading books with the information on it relating to a specific article or topic in that book). I've kept the cotton loose where I've stitched papers together.
In the image below, I've stapled scraps of paper together. I like their layering effect, being able to see one sheet under and over the other. It looks like a book, with connotations to the multiple sheets of paper that make a book.
I think the image below was a turning point and I particularly liked the drawing on the right where the pen has leaked underneath the graph paper. It looks like some sort of netting.
Last year I made a mini white cube box to put things in, to imagine how they would look in a gallery space. I struggle with being able to visualise how an artwork would look when presented in public. Whilst the focus should be on the making process itself, you've got to have some idea, even an inkling of how something could be presented.
Whilst the scale may be out, perhaps the materials slightly adrift, imagine the above as an installation in some way, you walk into it, under it, on it...
I began to flip between stitch drawing and pen drawing. I enjoyed the methodical process of creating squares. I was calmer when I made these stitch drawings, except when I pierced a pin up and underneath my fingernail! Big ouch! I don't recommend it.
The key words to describe my practice are process, material, craft, sculpture and performance. I think at the moment my work is about 'paper, fabric, stitch and draw', and I think the link to sewing is because of all the sewing I have done these last few months (separate to my practice). Is sewing as a process a positive influence or a negative conflict to my current art practice? I mean, I pierce holes in paper with a sewing needle and have been doing so for a long time, but is stitiching and using thread the next course of action to take, or is it too direct? Is this too literal a step in moving on from piercing paper?
I've been sewing into muslin, again a transparent and fragile material, and I like it's fine grid of vertical and horizontal threads.
In the past I have imitated fabric through drawing with an embossing pen, and ink, but I don't think necessarily this is the way forward now? I discovered an artist last year who creates fine line drawings, like my black ink drawings below, on copper and aluminium sheeting. His are stunning artworks and I don't want to compete with that.
But my pierced paper with pigment artworks that I am known for do have a fabric like quality about them which is part of their success.
Blackening paper with pigment is out, unless someone can provide me with a work space to do this. It is a very messy process. But should I be doing more work with pierced paper? Make it more sculptural? What? Part of me feels my piercing process is not yet fully resolved and yet part of me wants to move on to new things. On a practical level, piercing paper for a long period makes my hand and arm hurt and I don't believe this is a good thing long term.
I near the end of this blog by sharing the image below where I have stitched wool into cellophane, you know, all those outer plastic sleeves from cards that you send to people. The piece feels completely useless as an object, and yet I like the natural wool against the artificial plastic, and the way I have pulled it in and the gathers. Huh? Why? What is it about this piece?
I have a stash of outer plastic sleeves to use up, again needing to empty the studio and the idea of recycle, reuse, 'make do and mend'. You may ask why I've even kept them, for someone who is so into 'de cluttering'? I don't know ha! It's their transparency, their clearness, materiality.
The artist Karla Black makes sculptural works using cellophane, combining it with other household materials such as vaseline, flour and make-up. Should I make a big batch up of wool sewn cellophane sleeves and see what happens? It feels a very crazy idea, both positively (why not?) and negatively (it's not the right thing to do).
As I finish this blog I check through my notes and see the word 'embellishment', a single word, on it's own. I think this is what I am trying to do, make a mark or lots of them on something, in some way.
Paper, Fabric, Stitch, Draw.