Development of a design - from Lullaby to Trio

One of the aspects of the way I work gives me feelings of fresh excitement about every piece. It is to do with the time that stages take. I am just now about to embark on the first top quilting of a quilt form version of Trio. Some months ago I stitched an A4 digital transfer version (on which I still have not finished the reverse applique because of not currently being in a state to do all the particularly fiddly work). That's another aspect of my working processes which I enjoy: the differences in the scale of print versions of the design.

Some designs fall completely into place, with my mind sorting out the right drawing with the right background before I sit down at the computer, leaving me with only minor adjustments to make. In the case of this design, I started with a vague idea, which progressed through some throwing out of bathwater before arriving at a satisfactory conclusion.

I started with some blind drawings I'd done of cellists; the three I chose are at the top of this post.

The idea I had was to derive the mood of the music from the form of the work - i.e. a quilt form, and therefore a lullaby. So, to that end I chose a peaceful photo for my background starting point.

Immediately I knew that the colours would be too restricted, that I needed an element of contrast, and so I chose the photo below.

So, with these two in mind I began to process the design. It was soon obvious, however, that the strength of the colour was causing me to lose the lines of the blind drawing. But I liked the tones, and the colours, and did not want to lose them completely.

But in the meantime I had to tweak the positions of the cellists within the whole composition, and relative to each other. That done, I could start thinking about the colours again. (The yellow marks show where I moved areas.)

I was still clinging to my initial ideas at this stage, trying a mix of the two photos, but to no avail. Drastic measures were needed: so off to one of my favourite background photos. This is a scan of a large chunk of stone I picked up years ago on the Welsh coast. I use it relatively often to provide an 'active neutral' to designs. It has a positive life of its own, but it also has the power to enhance elements appearing with it.

But, I still wanted green, and a statement more assertive than the elements I'd added to enhance the lines of the drawings. I wanted geometry: straight lines which would not fight with the stitching I needed to add. (It is sometimes difficult to design something which does not quite work on the screen, in order to accommodate the stitching element.) Well, this was a design concerned with music, so groups of five lines turned out to be just right. I laid them out by eye because I did not want the effect to look too exact.

I then put the whole design together, and was pleased. The title had meanwhile changed in my mind, so that I abandoned Lullaby, which is not really a 'me' title anyway and too much of a contrivance (- to justify being a quilt form?), to simply Trio.

Another cup of coffee

I'm back in the cafe again - this time probably repeating what everyone has already said.

Random recent colours

Taken from the car window as I sit in Atterbury Street, waiting for Tate Britain to open on a Sunday morning. The view is of Chelsea School of Art- or as it is now known: University of the Arts, Chelsea. The building used to be the Royal Army Medical College.

This was one of our sunny summer days. Below was another one. The two snaps were taken in the replica of George Washington's Mount Vernon garden at the American Museum in Bath.

But a great many of our summer days are not so bright in colour. I must say that I do love a limited palette however, and the exhibition of black and white photography which this poster advertises is stunning, and a real feast for the eyes as well as the mind.

A quick burst of caffeine

I've just added a post to the Ragged Cloth Cafe.

Seduced by scribbles

I had heard of Cy Twombly, and had seen his work in reproduction. Inspired by the work of Rauschenberg, Johns, Merce Cunningham, John Cage, and others from the Black Mountain days, I passed Twombly by. I gave him just a passing glance. That is until a remarkable exhibition at the National Gallery in London : Encounters. In retrospect I believe that this was one of the most important exhibitions I have seen.
There was so much to look at in this exhibition, ... so much to distract, to draw attention, to inspire, to provoke so much thought, and yet Twombly's three piece contribution not only rivetted my attention at the time. I can remember the shock of the coup de foudre even now. It helped of course that they are huge. The photo at the top of them hanging in their now home in the Art Gallery of New South Wales, Australia shows their scale.

Cy Twombly: Three studies from the Temeraire

Those paintings, and what Twombly had done with his inspiration from Turner's original would not leave my mind alone. I kept returning and turning that pebble in my brain. I did not understand, ... I was just going with the feeling of it.

Then four years later there was an exhibition at the Serpentine Gallery: Cy Twombly, Fifty Years of Works on Paper. I was determined to see it, and there the seduction was complete. I went with my duodidactic friend, and we still remember it as the best of days out together. We were entranced, inspired, ... knocked off our artistic feet.

Cy Twombly: Apollo and the artist

It was with great delight that I looked forward to the Tate Modern great retrospective four years after that, in 2008. Passion renewed, I now became more discriminating: forming preferences within the works, and learning to consider and weigh my responses. But I still did not understand why I had been so wholly seduced. My husband, with whom I can usually discuss my reactions and who can contribute rationality was no help this time as he withstood the seduction completely.

Now Twombly is dead, and because of that I have received my answer from another artist: Howard Hodgkin in an appreciation article in the Guardian Newspaper in addition to the obituary. He too had been knocked out by an encounter with Twombly's work, and he said "The experience was one of total immersion. He painted with such emotional freedom." That's it. That is it. It is as simple and as momentous as that.

But I still find that I don't get that great seductive pull from reproduction of work I have not seen myself. It is strangely as if encountering the art itself is like being in the company of the man, listening to his talk about his interests, his reactions, his opinions, his conversational meanderings; and that the reproductions are like seeing photographs of him. I am drawn through memory to reproductions of the pieces I have been lucky enough to enjoy in person, just as if they are photos of events with which I was involved, and that is sufficient. And so I am not desperately sorry that I won't make the current Twombly/Poussin exhibition at the Dulwich Picture Gallery.

Put off by attitude and atmosphere

Beverley Daniels: St Margaret of Cordona with Heti and Ada (top)

Jean Hurst: We4 in the Garden with Van Gogh (below)

The Herstory exhibition at the Link Gallery in Winchester in which I have two pieces is about to end this weekend. I should have written a post about it ages ago, but somehow I have felt rather negative about the whole experience. I am certainly delighted with the quality of the
work with which mine is keeping company, and the space itself is a bright attractive gallery on two floors with lots of light.
When I knew about my inclusion in the exhibition I looked up the gallery, and saw that an interesting exhibition of photographs was on there for another few days. My husband and I decided to pay the venue a visit to see the pictures of Chernobyl, and to suss out the space.
We found the place easily enough from their website, but they had not warned us that there were no public parking spaces - indeed there was hardly anywhere to pause! I dashed in while my husband waited in the car, primed to move out of the way if needed. I found folks setting up a temporary conference, and sought out someone who could point me to the photos. Well, the photos were obscured by the conference stands, which would be there until beyond the duration of the exhibition. And although normally we could have parked -if a place was available - and come in to request a parking permit (no information about this had been on the website, nor on the numerous displays round the place saying no parking without a permit) we could not park today anyway because of the conference!
I complained to Women's Work who were about to put on the Herstory exhibition, and it is true that the gallery website did change some of their information - and at least one of the listings has the dates of the gallery's opening down as just weekdays now. But it still feels as if the venue is there simply to make the University feel good about its cultural credentials.
I wanted to return to see the Herstory exhibition, and so we got a bus there. We found a variety of good work, well hung, but bereft of anyone around. The exhibition had been on for at least a week, but there were only a handful of comments. I had the distinct feeling that no-one other than exhibitors and their friends had been to the opening, and perhaps no-one else had visited the show. There was certainly no-one there during the half hour or so that we were there, except one of the other artists checking whether any of her free postcards had gone - they hadn't, which she found most unusual.
There were large pieces of catering furniture clogging up one side of the first room, and another table with coffee and cups along another wall. While we were looking round several women who appeared to be staff of the University whose gallery it is came for their coffee and chat, and looked at us as if we were invaders with no right to be there.
Nonetheless we did have a good look round, and I was pleased to be in the company of such a diverse and interesting group of artists. So many pieces attracted me, and some intrigued me; but the ones which stood out for me were Penelope Wakeham with her two What if? collages (pictured immediately above). I later saw technically similar collages at the RA Summer Exhibition by David Mach, but found Penelope Wakeham's so much more engaging and worthwhile in thought-provoking exploration of subject. She has sourced internet images and carefully collaged together fantasy other life possibilities - in these cases tongue-in-cheek 'ideal'.

Next to my piece above, and unapproachable because of the table with the coffee cups was the work of another artist I liked: Ruth Wallace. I loved the density of her drawing and the subject matter - and its mysterious atmosphere, slightly diminished by the adjacent furniture, but not completely lost.
Other artists I was drawn to were Beverley Daniels, Caroline Kirton, and Lisa Traxler.
I was also intrigued by one piece of work which roamed over three areas in the gallery, but which had no label anywhere. I later found that it is by Gill Horn and is called Life Drawing - part of the University's public collection, as is another piece in the gallery: another multi-piece work entitled Repetitious Landscapes. This I found beautiful, but wished it had not been hung so high that I could not see it properly.
Overall, I was pleased with my inclusion in such diverse quality work - but my bitter taste from the encounters with the gallery still linger. Is it true that any exposure is worthwhile as long as one is seen with companions of merit?