I've titled my new assemblage series from reclaimed materials Compositions in time to describe their content, the media used, and my process in creating them.
They begin with beachcombing on the Bonavista Peninsula, NL or from materials collected by friends who have taken an interest in my process.
The majority of wood and all my "attachments" are old. They had a previous history that I can only guess at when I look at the information contained in stains, scratches, peeling paint and shapes. The paint colours too help me understand what their previous life was because there is a history of favoured paint colours for houses and sheds in the communities surrounding my summer place.
These structures have been torn down, fallen down or blown out to sea. Then I find them from my various sources, bring them to the workshop to dry, spray them against mold (antifungal spray) and bugs (solution of bleach and water). Sometimes I have them for a year or two before they speak to me. I know that sounds hokey, but it's true. Each work starts with one inspiration piece, and then I am off with my sorting and resorting of materials. I'm continually going back to my stacks in this process. There is a rhythm to the process of creating and to the structures that I develop for each piece. I am not in the least musical, but I see these as regulated compositions with variations.
The band saw, PL Premium adhesive, and my husbands workshop have become by best friends.
Composition in Time R#3 (2014) 20 x 44 in. Margaret Ryall (Private Collection)
The lovely purple boards came from Bonnie, a local lady who provides me with such interesting bits and pieces of wood. I was so excited when I saw my favourite colour I couldn't wait to get it home. Luckily I didn't have to wait too long for them to dry out because July was a hot month for us.
The wallpaper remnants in this work came from a renovation in Dunfield, NL. They were peeled off and reapplied to board using acrylic gel. The part of an old iron headboard came from a friend as did the three roofing nails and heads. Thanks Helen and Ken. Too many connections so....
This piece rests proudly over the sofa in my summer house studio. It is mine! I know! I can't keep them all. But so far I have claimed 4 that I can't part with. My husband tilts his head, looks around and says nothing.