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Soup - a design printed on cotton and waiting to be stitched
I've been lucky that the right book seems to be there just when I need it (or hangs around on my shelves for over 20 years waiting for me to be ready for it and in Jack Flamm's book on Matisse), and I have recently read another - in one sitting. Paula Rego Behind the scenes by John McEwan is a fascinating volume: both the text and the pictures. It is almost always interesting to read how an artist goes about their work, and to see as much of the process as possible. This book is full of photographs of Rego's studio, and it describes her working methods. It also has many wondrous illustrations of her work, some previously never published before.
Better than this also it gives glimpses into Rego's motivation and thinking, and this especially is treasure for the mentoring-seeker. Rego's work is not easy viewing, and this is one the attractions for me. She deals with human interaction which is the subject which most intrigues me, and is the basis of my own work. Indeed I find that her pictures speak to a very deep place within me.
The book is full of points of interest, but two in particular struck me straightway. First I was drawn to Rego's late husband's description of her work.
The time of day in that place, of that climate, has the presence of an animal. A heavy, uneasy, sun-baked thing which twitters and whines, in one's ear. One must tease and humiliate it, gouge it, pity it. The picture becomes its face. If it can be described it can be forgiven for being what it is and made loveable even. Such creatures (fawning, violent, lethargic, elusive) rush about or wander, lost, singly or even in packs. For Paula, painting is trapping them, breaking them, putting on brands and hanging them, groomed or pampered, on the wall. From Untitled by Victor Willing 1965
I was taken with the idea that if it can be described it can be forgiven for being what it is. And particularly so because of the second point: the fact that Rego makes models of her 'monsters' and draws, paints from life. She avoids working directly from her imagination and memory because it is to difficult, too near the bone. Her series Misericordia is an exception which proves her rule to her. They are pen and wash drawings of the nursing of her mother - a kind of lamentation. John McEwan states -
These drawings were not posed but are the reflection of experience. They were 'drawn from the head' and, one might add, the heart, and are of the utmost significance for Paula. 'There isn't anything, anything more intimate and more truthful than that possible.'
Mulling this I see that my own work is an attempt at the obverse of that coin. I am trying to express a truth about my own feelings; but at present that appears unmediated - not rendered in one form on the way to another. Now I have to think about whether raw is what I want, or should I consider a possibly more forgiving outlook. From the light of the greats can come illumination in one's own corner.
Further links to articles about Paula Rego, her studio and work.
On Thursday we set off for a delightful destination: the De La Warr Pavilion at Bexhill-on-sea. The scenic route takes more or less three hours, but passes through picturesque places and for me always epitomises the romantic view of rural southern England at this time of year. The sun was shining, and it was the start of a great day out.
A breezy day - that air off the sea always makes me breathe deep with satisfaction and excitement. As if I have just awoken from too long a sleep, but am now ready to leap off into life. We had come for that glorious combination of the sea, great architecture, and an interesting exhibition. Oh yes, and we were celebrating 38 years of marriage too - as I say, a great day out.
The exhibition is Unpopular culture, curated by Grayson Perry. It was a show which I'd been looking forward to seeing, the publicity having excited my interest. The work is all from the Arts Council Collection of British Art, and was selected by GP to make what might seem a counter-contemporary point. He wanted to show what art had been like before the bombast of me-me-me-me celebrity-centric 'popular culture' work, so he chose pieces which originated before 1980.
Perry also made two pieces of work for the show - a decorated pot in his usual style, and a wondrous skull in bronze. I must admit that I much prefer the latter. It so magnificently encapsulates what Perry described in a dvd which was playing at the exhibition: many symbols of Britain such as the flag, double decker buses, bulldogs, historic costumes etc. have been pressed into the form of the skull of some ancient sea god. Once great, now history, the skull speaks of power become almost poignant in its disintigration. How much more eloquent a cultural symbol than the diamond encrusted monstrosity that is Damien Hirst's work! Although I am depressed to say that both are just as accurately representative.
The exhibition sings. The space and layout of the pieces are physically and visually pleasing, leading the viewer through, intriguing without crowding the mind. There are so many threads of connection between the pieces, not least a fellow feeling with the subjects - no pointing in irony, no categorising as other - a sense that the artists were showing aspects of themselves as much as of other(s). Some think of the art as grey and dismal, but that is so unconsidered and superficial I believe. There is passion, compassion, and consideration as well as eloquence and beauty. The elegant tracery of winter trees struck me as another thread running through several photographs and paintings, such as Edward Burra's Winter.
It has been an incredibly popular show, and the catalogue has sold out several times, with the shop having called in extra copies from here there and everywhere. The exhibition is to tour for some time, however, so a reprint is doubtless under way, and so many more people will be able to think about its messages.
Over the past few years curation has become another artistic medium like sculpture or installation - perhaps it is the natural development of installation. Degrees in curation are offered so that the exhibition becomes in itself a work of art. I have very grave doubts about this development - it is as if the old saying about teachers can be twisted into 'those who can, make art - those who can't, curate'.
I am not saying that artists cannot make good curators; but that it is a separate skill, and one which Grayson Perry has demonstrated magnificently. I only regret that given the message of this exhibition, the poster and catalogue cover show Perry cross-dressed in a headscarf, pulling in punters in a very sensational way. There is even a headscarf designed to be sold as an exhibition nicknack - the very epitome of the 'popular' art he says he wishes to avoid.
I so hope that Unpopular culture becomes a landmark exhibition, which turns the teaching of art and the making of art away from the superficial artist-directed view to the significant artist-originated once again. On the whole I believe that the artist should be the observer, before becoming the observed because of those valued observations.
How good it would have been to return home to one of the beachfront houses, and thus be able to visit the exhibition again and again as well as be blown to excitement every day. Perhaps something to add to the retirement wish list!
I am delighted that Jazzdance and Stitch in time were chosen by Maggie Grey to be included as illustrations in her new book From image to stitch. The book is full of information and inspiration on the subject of transferring images onto materials for stitching. I could have done with it when I worked on Jazzdance, which was one of my earliest pieces!
The transfer paper I was working with - and my printer - was A4 in size, and I wanted to try something bigger. I did not want to build up smaller elements to get the size I wanted. I wanted the image itself to be big. So the solution I attempted was to draw the figures and their background as one, then divide that into four files. I then printed out each of the four files, and with judicious reverse applique I achieved the effect I was after. It's a piece I am very pleased with - and yet I never returned to that method. Reading the book has piqued my interest again.
The snaps I took of the plants and flowers were mostly for possible use in my work. I was particularly attracted to three which came together with an idea for figures which has been buzzing around in the back of my head. This is my first pass at a design looking at the relationship between parent and child. I have been thinking a lot about when the two swap places and how the first relationship informs the second from both points of view.
I had no wish to revisit my own past, but while I was in Thessaloniki I very much wanted to see what had happened to the Archaeological museum and to visit the new museum of Byzantine culture. They are opposite each other, and a few minutes' walk from my cousin's flat, which was a great advantage given that I'm not fond of too much heat.
They are both stunning museums, and well worth a long visit. Both have excellent cafes, the Byzantine one being especially attractive, and both have shops. However on this latter facility, the range of cards is miserly, books are almost all in Greek, and the Archaeological museum's shop is closed at weekends. The reproductions of items is excellent, though, and there are many examples at all prices. In the Byzantine museum temporary exhibitions include contemporary photography as at present: Places and Manners of Worship. The temporary exhibitions at the other museum tend to be related to the collection. The latter museum allows photography without flash, but the Byzantine not at all.
I returned to the museums early in the morning, before the rest of my cousin's household was up, and enjoyed leisurely gazing at astonishing workmanship. The classical pale sculptures are achingly beautiful and it is a profound pleasure to spend time visually tracing delicate lines on panels which tell of brutal acts.
I was thinking about how much tastes have changed in art - how wondrous it is to see the exquisite craftsmanship as well as the artistic achievement in these ancient pieces when I spied a courtyard closed to the public. In there is an example of how the sculptures would have looked at the time: coloured in what appears to me the most horribly garish way!
So much of how we enjoy looking at the work of other times and other cultures is of course coloured by our own times and cultures, setting up a prejudice against what 'does not fit'. I have known about the colouring of sculpture, but I have decided that I must find out more about the way that ancient sculptures were presented - to satisfy my curiosity, and to enhance my knowledge. Just as I tend to prefer black and white photographs, my taste still however veers towards the bleached raw carved stone, perhaps with a trace of the former colour.
But I really do love some juxtapositions of the ancient and the modern in which a beautiful visual dialogue has been set up. This large pot is just outside the entrance to the Archaeological museum.
Soup - a design printed on cotton and waiting to be stitched
