Inspiration for an exercise

May, from An Almanac of twelve Sports (image from here)

(image from here)
Yesterday I posted an image I've been working on, with an idea at the back of my mind influenced by the woodcuts of William Nicholson.  I first saw his prints on the wall of the grand staircase of the Mayfair offices of the publishing house William Heinemann in the 1970s, and they have been firm favourites of mine ever since.

Cow from The square book of animals (image from here)
I admire the way he conveys so much with such simple, seemingly static lines and blocks of limited colour.  And although one can see the influence of both German and Japanese woodblock traditions, Nicholson's work is decidedly British in feel.  I think that the gentle humour has something to do with that, but also unfortunately the categorisation of various 'types' which are certainly not now politically correct emphatically tell of the time and the attitudes when he was working.

Both from An Alphabet (images from here)
I also very much am attracted by the use of typography as part of the composition.  There were often such benefits from it having been cheaper to have the artist encapsulate the caption within the illustration - if of course skilled like Nicholson.

The Lady and The Barmaid from London Types (image from here)
I so like the heavy black, and especially the black border which makes his prints immediately distinctive.  The figures burst out of their confinement, alive despite their flatness.

Piece in progress

The development of an image before stitching can be satisfying  - and especially the digital elements.  Planting started as a linocut as several of my pieces do because I want to keep that flat look, and also to keep those random-ish cutting lines showing as part of the background - even though in this case they are not in the same colour as the figure outline itself.
The process adds to add, and adds to take away, often painstaking and long-winded, the results can give me real pleasure.  The image above, which is nearly there, derived largely from these previous steps.

Now the image is at the next 'simmering' stage before printing onto cloth ready for stitching.

Back to front?

(image from here)
When I was exploring the Jenny Saville exhibition on at present in New York (see my previous post) I came across Cayce Zavaglia's exhibition at the Lyons Wier Gallery.  I generally have at least a cursory look at textile work, even simply out of curiosity.  In this case it was not that she makes stitched portraits which intrigued me, but that she has taken further the back view.

(image from here)
We folk who use threads are often attracted to the back view of our work; the reverse often shows strangely beautiful messy distortions.  When the front facing view is meticulous and photo-realistic as in this case the back can show a relaxed, more emotional side, which also excites the haptic response which seems to be fundamental with overtly textile work.  We always want to reach out and feel.

(image from here)
In an interview with Studio International, Cayce Zavaglia says that she interested in process as much as portrait.  And I find it so interesting that her paintings after embroidery now take on the back side look of the textile portraits. But I must admit that my interest here is technical curiosity rather than any emotional engagement.  My own work largely leaves faces blank (-ish) because I am more interested in body language as a communicator.  But that also makes me more interested in looking at what others do with bodies, and faces.  These verso paintings inspired by the back of the textile works are an interesting development of the hyper-real approach to reproducing faces which are limited to friends and family.  There are quite a few questions raised here. 

The female body, drawn large

(image from here)
There's an exhibition of Jenny Saville's paintings, Ancestors is on at the Gagosian gallery in New York at present.  There is a review here, and another here, both with more images.
I find Saville's work extremely powerful, and it strikes me dumb.  Rather like my reaction to Francis Bacon's work, I have no adequate words, perhaps no adequate thoughts, ... just powerful emotions.  

June

June is a notable month for me.  In my youth it was the month when summer began with our annual trip to Greece.  I graduated and married in June, we moved to this house in June 28 years ago, and June holds the birthdays of several folks close to me.
June is also the month of burgeoning garden growth here in southern England.  The plants expand before our eyes, and flowers burst open it seems every minute - especially when it is wet and warm like these days are.

Geranium, alliums, spirea, catmint, euphorbia, zebra grass, macleaya.

A squirrel running along the boundary fence behind the honeysuckle.

Nigella self seeds everywhere and creates delightful feathery screens - here with a spirea behind.

On dull days, when the sky is overcast, threatening downpour and storm, the white flowers of the Kashmir White geranium shine out in joy.  Here more light is shone off the seductive leaves of the onopordum acanthium (Scotch thistle plant), and the pale spots on the pulmonaria leaves.

Bursts of pinks are provided by the gladiolus byzantinus, peony, the dark leaves of the heuchera, and two more geraniums - one of which, Wargrave Pink is a prolific self seeder.

This is the first year that I have really noticed and looked at the lovely flowers of the stipa gigantea grass.
In the greenhouse growth is not such a great story.  This year the grafted plug plants I ordered remained in stasis for over a month, and are only now beginning to put on some growth.  In the past these have been really prolific, and I had been singing their praises.  I was in such despair over them this year that I went to my local garden centre and bought some ordinary plants, and the weedy specimens in the photo are supposed to be the super duper ones.  

I shall wait till harvest time for final judgement.
Another bit of bad luck occurred this morning when a package arrived containing two mugs - one of which was broken.  

Such things can colour the whole day, but I've been promised an even more carefully wrapped replacement, there's a baby quilt to finish - and of course the continuing French Open tennis.

Diversion

I've been taking advantage of this tennis tournament-free week to use the sewing machine to make a baby quilt for my nephew and his wife.    I had no pastels left after the last baby quilt, so indulged myself in some Kaffe Fassett fabrics.  I had never really had an excuse to use his fabrics before and it is delightful to have the glorious brights around, especially on these couple of rather dull weather days. 
It's a simple patchwork project, which is just as well.  I find it interesting how making such practical items no longer engages me to any extent.  I'm eager to get on with 'real' work!

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.

Working in threes

I've been swept up in my figgy inspiration to progress on not just one but three designs to leave to mature over the weekend.

Giving a fig

I have been inspired by Mags Ramsey's post on the current exhibition of Kurt Jackson's work.  The first image alone transported me to my childhood.  My favourite summer fruit was the fig (and my favourite winter fruit the pear), and I have not eaten a really ripe tasty fig since I was in my teens, some fifty years ago.  Sigh.  I remember well reaching up and gently pulling the warm ripe fruit from the tree.

Kurt Jackson: Fig yellow, olive green (image from here)
Reading Mags' post, and looking at the images from the Olive and Fig: Provence exhibition on Messum's website I was filled with a desire to make a figgy picture myself to commemorate my lost fig-eating days.

Adrian Paul Allinson: The Fig Tree (image from here)
First, however, I had a quick google through some other figgy art.  Here are a few that caught my eye.

Heather Mackinlay: Fig tree abstracted (image from here) 

Paul Klee: Fig Tree (image from here)

Catherine Forshall: Figs II (image from here)

Xchristakos: White fig tree (image from here)

Dee Schenck Rhodes: Fig tree (image from here)

And this is my first pass scribble towards a working doodle for Giving a fig.

A morning stroll round the garden

This is such a lovely time of year in the garden.  The greens are still widely differentiated - they grow more similar as Summer comes along.  So many flowers are blooming, and more are in bud waiting to burst open.  After several warm days and much sunshine the scent of the wisteria is overwhelming.  

I went out this morning while there were deep shadows to breathe it all in and take some snaps before coming to do some work.

The view at the top of the post is the back of the house taken from the seats above, which remain cool in the early morning.  I love the long view south from those seats, the lovely old hawthorns and across next door's land.

A closer view of the leaning hawthorn which fills my view as I sit at my computer.

The close view to the left of the shady seats is of the pittosporum with the most delightful almost black tiny flowers.

Elsewhere there are many greens, and colour combinations galore.

There is a gusty wind today, so the newly built fruit cage looks as if there is a monster slug in it!  The loganberry is now protected from the birds but not the bees - and it looks as if there will be a heavy crop this summer, if the weather behaves!