Quick proof prints, and a fascinating book

I did some quick proofing to check what still needed cutting away from some lino plates-in-progress.

Also, I wanted to try out some colour/background combinations.

Still quite a bit of work to do on all counts.

And yesterday I finished an excellent book: Who Built Scotland: A History of the Nation in Twenty Five Buildings.  The 25 buildings start with Kathleen Jamie's poetic imaginings of the prehistoric life, and end with a consideration of The Bothy Project which aims at sustainably leaving nothing ultimately to tell the kind of story from which we learn so much about the past - in some ways a perfect circle. 

Sweeny's bothy, Isle of Eigg (image from here)
I found the book to be engaging, informative, and thought-provoking.

Ruthless, yet benign and far-sighted

Jung Chang has written a third enthralling biography.  I very much enjoyed, appreciated, and was enlightened by Wild Swans and Mao: The Unknown Story.  Today I finished reading the extraordinary life of the Empress Dowager Cixi.
I had a vague recollection of the Boxer rebellion from my history lessons at school, and in my early 20s when I was commuting to work in London I read a great deal about Chinese communism.  But I had never heard of this remarkable woman, a concubine of the emperor who saw what needed to be done to bring her country into the modern age, and found ways to take the power again and again to carry out the reforms.  Astonishing that we have not all heard of her.

(image from here)
She was far from an angel; she was just as murderous as any despot, but the good she did seems far to have outweighed the bad.  Learning some of the history of a period which had fallen between the cracks of my previous reading has been fascinating too.   It is such a pleasure to benefit from slow, well researched and well written input as an antidote to hard to avoid fast thoughtless 'news'.

Further stripes

Continuing the wandering ponder, yesterday's post thoughts reminded me of work by a printmaker whose work I admire: Ellen Heck, and in particular her Color Wheels.  Of course, after looking at them again I puddled through the rest of her archive.  I do so enjoy her relaxed people, the lives they show, the reality of it, especially in the Plus a Century group -

where I encountered stripes which further reminded me of clothing ...

as distinctively depicted by Mary Cassatt, (image above from here)
and the lovely Watteau drawing in the British Museum,

and of course the dramatic drawings of Egon Schiele, which were not far from my memory because of Eirene's recent post.
Further, I found two interesting posts on stripes in Lucy Vivante's blog, here and here.  Strangely enough, stripes are not a particular aspect I have pursued in my own work - except in rows of stitch/quilting, of course.  I do have one recent lino print on which I tried out striped clothing of a sort, but I'm not sure I'm happy with that either.

 

Looking at lines

Today I went on an online journey inspired by Margaret Cooter's post, and her mention of Rosemary Burton's collages (see above). Intrigued, I remembered a splendid large collage I'd seen years ago, and tried to remember the name of the artist.  I googled all sorts of clues and looked at the images, and on the way was distracted by a photo of the work of Brenda Holzke.

Looking in detail at her work, which attracts me - most especially the Indigenous Baskets (see below), and the Mixed Media pieces (see above). 

Furtling around further pursuing Holzke online I also found an interesting blog: Pattern Prints Journal, with not only a post on Holzke, but also images of Louise Bourgeois' work currently (as shown below).

Two interesting finds - thanks to Margaret and my lack of memory - which later redeemed itself by popping the elusive name of Mariza Colonna into my brain at an appropriately idle moment. (image below from here)

A quote

Image above from here
In my researches for the 3D workshop I looked up sculptor Cathy de Monchaux, and encountered a most thought-provoking quote on this vimeo of a talk she gave at Leeds Art College.

'Culture is having the guts to sit and think,
waiting for the emptiness to fill up with the reflection of the world
- to digest it and attempt to reveal humanity back to itself without going mad in the process. 
The ability to achieve a detached focused intensity,
to believe in the lack of a plan. 
You sit and you think,
and then you brave it out and make something,
however odd and scary it might be.'

Image above from here

Such a banquet to chew over.  (The punctuation is mine.)
Now that I've tidied up, and am turning my attention to what's next on my to do pile, I find that the ideas here are demanding pause for thought.  How fortunate that my slow stitching and the tennis can distract enough to leave the back burner to ponder in peace.

A side trip into 3D

Yesterday I was fortunate to spend at a workshop - Sewn Animal Sculpture over Wire Armatures - given by sculptor Sadie Brockbank.  (Image below from her facebook page, here.) 

My attraction to 3D work persists, and the added incentive of the words sewn and wire armature were enough for an immediate positive response when Sadie offered me the opportunity to join one of her workshops. 

My introduction to art quilts in 1981 was when I met Elizabeth Gurrier - I was lucky enough to live for a couple of years in the same village in New Hampshire - and her bas relief forms have stayed in my mind ever since. (Image above from here.)

I have also been a great admirer of Louise Bourgeois' cloth forms of bodies and heads (image above from here, where there are more heads).

In doing my usual pre-workshop research I also encountered the amazing work of Karine Jollet in Paris.  Like Elizabeth Gurrier's work when I saw it, she works only in white - an aspect I also find very attractive.  (Image above from here - please scroll down a bit.)  Karine Jollet's subject matter often involves myth, which in my mind links with Sadie's animal forms.

Anyway, my flirtation with 3D forms had involved a papier mache workshop in 2009, where I explored making a form without a wire armature, and I was keen to try with wire.  Then I had made a mythical creature of my own, part woman, part bird, part fish, ...!
This time I chose a Komodo dragon, for a few reasons: I had a leftover small bit of batik I like from Indonesia, and more important I wanted an animal with a distinct body, legs, claws, and tail in order to get the most out of the workshop.  I also wanted to try an animal which I had not seen Sadie make, so that I had to make most of the decisions myself.

The beginning went well.  I found that working with the wire was OK.  I made the armature and started to wind the base fabric (curtain bump interlining).  I was pleased not to have difficulty with the feet and claws.  The base fabric is wound round and stitched where necessary to keep it down.

I had a clear idea of how I would deal with covering the claws with fabric, but it quickly struck me that I had not thought enough about the main covering of the body.  I had concentrated too much on the idea that I could perhaps reproduce the folds of skin round the head, while not taking into account the manoeuvrings needed to keep the fabric largely flat, tight, and in the stitching of it in surface situ!  I immediately began to wonder if Louise Bourgeois had done all her own stitching, and if so how accomplished both she and definitely Sadie were.

In order to make some kind of progress, and to explore the difficulties further I stitched on bands of fabric - although I was not happy at all with the result.  The elements which pleased me were the armature and base fabric covering of that, and the four sets of claws.

I was exhausted by the end of the day, and happy with what I'd gained - not least a greater specific appreciation of the people whose work I had researched, including of course Sadie.  The dragon, unfinished as is now joins other enlightening samples.  I enjoyed the day, it satisfactorily scratched that itch of curiosity about wire armatures, it led to fascinating research, and re-affirmed once again my familiar conclusion that ideas drive my work, not techniques.  But who knows when an idea which needs to be manifest in 3D will pop up - ?

Bookbinding workshop

Pewsey white horse, image from here
Yesterday I braved the commuter traffic to travel deep into white horse countryside for a workshop.  I have been worriting around vague ideas about making a book with my work - somehow, I know not how - and through a friend heard of Lori Sauer's workshops. 

Because I have nothing specific in mind yet, I did not want to spend several days at a workshop, but the one day Fin Book workshop looked a good starting point.  The examples shown looked attractive, and the binding looked open and accommodating (just in case that is what I might need).
It was a sunny day, and once I had got past the traffic I enjoyed the drive - even though I did lose my way a little towards the end.  However, I did get a view of the Pewsey white horse, which I should not have done - so a bonus!

This is my completed sample. 

I discovered after I had put the cover on that I had bound only six rather than seven sections, and that all the sections were not in the same orientation - so they go up and down somewhat, as can be seen at each end of the binding below. 

In mitigation I must say that the manipulations of the binding took much concentration from everyone, some cursing, and a touch of blood spilling!  There was tension not only in the binding threads!  Also I my knackered knees were protesting at having to stand still all day with only awkward (for me) high stools to perch on, so I was not as relaxed as I would have liked.  Despite this I did enjoy the day, and after all, this is a learning sample only.

I am not sure if this binding method is what I want, but as I hoped the process has made me take on a different perspective, and placed practical possibilities in front of me.  It certainly has not put me off the larger idea, rather has moved me a little further forward - I just have more things to mull.