Tenacity

Messages 3, 5 x 5, mixed media collage

Poppies of every variety inspire me. They are repeated content in my work. I love the vibrant colours, paper thin petals and curving stems. They move and lean into the wind in precarious positions. One wonders how they stay upright. I think they are one of the best examples of tenacity in the floral kingdom.

Heralding spring

Nature/nurture (2008) 20 x 24 mixed media on canvas

Yes, I know it's been spring forever in other places but I can say with certainty that we are finally having spring in Newfoundland. In 2008 I created this piece for a juried exhibition called Spring at the Craft Council of Newfoundland. I saw beautiful yellow tulips yesterday and was reminded of it.

The background is photo transfers of various pages from gardening books that were then torn and collaged . The thought that we have to have instructions to help nature along is somewhat pathetic. I used the split canvas to represent the nature nurture debate.

This is a very busy weekend for me because CARFAC, a national arts advocacy board, I am a member of is holding its Annual General Meeting in St. John's. There will be much excitement in addition to the meetings.

New work - Postcard series

In my Postcard Series I think I have found a format that will serve me well for many years. I like to have something to revert to when I am working on a larger series which I classify, rightly or wrongly as" more serious." I always grade what I create on a continuum that ranges from serious and worthy to fun and frivolous. At the back of my mind every time I create something , I question its worth in the larger scheme of art that is created around me. I often wonder if other artists see their work in this way. Perhaps it comes from my teaching background where everything is constantly assessed. I know that there are times this constant rating is affecting how I see myself as an artist.

These images will be part of my Reading a Garden series too. I'm attracted to the idea of sending postcards from places you visit as a way for loved ones to participate in the experience. What they receive is the result of several selection processes. The original place photographed was created through a series of decisions by one or possibly many people, the photographer who created the postcard selects views from many available, from these some are chosen for reproduction. The sender of the photograph selects from those available in one store or gift shop and further refines the visual information by adding comments. Each step along the way is a form of "reading" a place. I think the postcards fit in very well with the Reading a Garden theme.

In an early post I wrote about one of the magnolia trees found in Birr Castle Demense and I'm still thinking about it. The combination of realism and abstracted backgrounds is a challenge but I think I pulled it off.

Art Smarts

I recently spent 4 days in a local elementary school working with grade 5 students through the Arts Smarts program. Schools can apply for special funding to bring artists into the school to work on a specific project that encourages students to meet outcomes in various subject areas through the arts. This is the second year I worked with Goulds Elementary school. The previous project in 2007 was with grade 4 students. Check here to see what they created. The current work is not up on the website yet. It was enjoyable to be in a classroom again and look at the world through the eyes of a child.

This year students created books about animals found in Newfoundland that would be shared with younger students. Two classes made foil embossed paintings that were stored in 4 portfolio scrapbooks. The other two classes painted background scenes and embellished them with different papers. Their animals were created separately and attached to the scenes using velcro. These paintings on bristol board were then compiled into four accordion style books with pockets on the back for the detachable animals.

I'd like to share several of the backgrounds depicting trees. There are a lot of commonalities from work to work that I thought were interesting. The programs supports a specific number of contact hours and there's never enough time to do all the things you would like to after the work is created. I didn't have time to speak with the children about their work, so I can only surmise why they represent trees in this way.

Another meadow painting

This is another meadow painting created using the same process described in the last post. This was my first work in the Garden Series and it is actually my favourite of the ten completed works to date. I particularly like the way the imagery moves from highly realistic to very abstract. There are all kinds of surprises within it when you take a closer look. I really wanted to take a common scene that many people just pass by without a second look, and create something that reveals the energy and life tucked away in the tall grass evident to those who take a closer look. Both this painting and the one from the previous post are the same meadow.







While the sky is overcast, there is a defiant energy and brightness in the flowers and grasses that is always there even in the rain. Do you have a favourite between the two? I'd love to hear from you.

Working process

The process I am using to create the work in my Reading a Garden series physically reflects the erosion of memory we all experience with the passage of time.

I begin each piece with photo transfers of a particular place in the garden. I consider this "the real". Then through a series of manipulations using paint and papers, I combine and alter the photo transfers into a blended "summary impression" of a place, feeling or event experienced in the garden. While the work still looks highly realistic when completed it has strayed greatly from the initial transfers and morphed into a composite of photo images and remnants of frayed memory. As more time passes and the details in my memory are less distinct, the nature of the work is also changing subtly. There transfers are less visible and the invented sections are taking over.

I began with the wildflower meadow because I've had an intimate relationship with meadows since my childhood. The wildflower meadow at Birr Castle Demesne had a wildness and simplicity when compared to the more controlled and cultivated Millennium Garden where I always felt slightly out of my element. The meadow was nature left wild and wanton; I felt free there.

When I start a mixed media work I never know how it will look when it is finished. The process of adding things moves the work along in its own direction. It is as if it is leading me and not the other way around. The end result is always a surprise for me. I would love to say I have it all figured out beforehand, sketched, with a tonal study completed etc. While I am very organized in most aspects of my life, I cannot imagine working in that manner. I love surprise of what my conscious and unconscious mind produces!

In this piece, I began with roughly 30 image transfers from photos I took in the meadow. Different sections of the meadow had different wildflowers and different feelings. Some photos were close up, others more distant. I laid out all available transfers and begin to sort and resort them until I had ones that I felt worked together. They produce more of a hybrid of the meadow area than an actual representation of it. I then use medium to attach some of them to the board.

In the next step I connected the transfers with a dark background that gave me a working surface with lots of contrast to fill in or connect the disparate sections using papers and paint. These areas represents my" sense" or memory of the meadow and could be considered invented when compared to the photo transfers.

I work back and forth without too much thought and the painting slowly emerges. I like to combine abstract elements with the realistic imagery. The small circles are reminiscent of seeds and also infinity. I've played around with certain letter representations in Morse Code that are created using dots. They allow me to insert messages in the painting without using text.

Making decisions

The beginning of a new series is always a challenge for me because there are so many decisions to be made before beginning. I'm sure other artists may go about things slightly differently. Once I make these framework decisions, I loosen up totally and the content and composition takes on a mind of its own.

After my return from Birr Castle Demesne last July, my mind was overstimulated with visual information from my two week stay and it took me almost a month to calm down and begin work. Since I was creating the work with an exhibition in mind, I wanted some consistency in the appearance / size of the work; I also wanted the format to have some connection to my experiences in the garden. I'd like to take you on the thinking journey that resulted in my choice of support size and orientation.

My first glimpse of the garden was through a doorway that led from where we stayed in The Bothy directly into the Millennium Garden. I approached that door with a great deal of anticipation.

What was on the other side as I walked through

So my first view was a limited one through a doorway. As I spent time on the property, I realized that many of my views were through contained openings that only allowed what I termed as "controlled viewing" that revealed different slices of the garden.

I decided that was a good thing because I was not accustomed to the expanse of geometric grids that organized the garden. This viewing direction helped me pay attention to what I was seeing and really focus on what was framed. I realized that my viewing was organized by someone else, just a I manipulate the picture plane for viewer interaction when I compose.

Many other impressions were snatched through closed gates which brought me back to my first view of a cultivated garden as a child. My grandmother's garden was fenced and gated. I looked longingly through the slats in the fence to the world of riotous colour inside. I coveted that space very much, but I was not allowed inside because I had a penchant for picking flowers.

Mom and I , Keels Garden, 1954

It was the focused glance of rectangular openings that led me to adopt a vertical orientation for my work in this series. After much fiddling with dimensions I decided to work on cradled panels, 10 x 24 inches., not quite doorway proportions but definitely referencing them. I decided that I would direct the viewer of my work just as my gaze was directed in the gardens.
And then I had to choose a suitable technique for the work that allowed me to respond to my reading of the garden.

Looking through

Several years ago I visited a number of ancient ruins as part of a guided tour . There were many instances where my view was directed through openings that were once windows or doors. While I was looking back through history as I went from site to site, when I looked through these openings I had the feeling that I was looking from the past into the present.
These are very concrete examples of the passage of time, the theme I explore in much of my work. Others may have different reactions and I'm curious to hear what they might be.

New work - Postcard series

Postcard Series, Venice #2 (2009) mixed media collage

Postcard Series, Venice #1 finally has a mate. I completed this several days ago. Number 3 is almost completed. I obviously did not photograph these pieces under the same conditions because the gold I used is the same in both collages. Believe it or not the horizontal line is parallel to the bottom of the board too. It's my photography skills. Isn't it terrible when you have to explain your work because your technical skills with the camera are so poor they make a verbal explanation necessary?

Postcard Series, Venice #2 (2009) mixed media collage

The art of monotype - 2

This is my second installment on monotype- the third if you count my previous post about how I use monotypes in my mixed media work. Periodically I like to provide practical information on techniques that I feel competent to discuss. I enjoy finding detailed, first hand accounts by artists when I am researching something new. See the previous post for Part 1.

Now that I've discussed what a monotype is, material options and the creation of a plate, I'm on to the next step...

How is the image transferred?
Many artists create monotypes in a printmaking studio but that is not necessary. I have a heavy stainless roller (85 pounds) that a friend made for me. I use this on the top of a chest of drawers that is just the right height for rolling. I've also used a wooden pastry roller to get a transfer and even the back of a wooden spoon for smaller pieces. They all work, but for the spoon and the pastry roller I apply my weight to the process. On top of my "table" I have a piece of vinyl floor covering back side up (no embossed patterns) and on top of this I have a sheet of lightweight paper that I can change if it gets dirty.

I lay the plate, right side up of course, on top of the vinyl and paper and apply the soaked watercolour paper that has been blotted of excess water on top of the plate. I lightly smooth it out with my hand and then place another sheet of absorbent paper on top of this. Then I roll over the top, usually rolling twice with my heavy roller or the pastry roller. With the wooden spoon I methodically burnish the whole surface of the paper.

I take a careful peek by lifting a corner to see how things are transferring. If I feel I need to go over it once more I will drop the edge of the paper and roll again. When you pull the print there may be areas that have a heavy application of paint. I use an exacto blade or regular blade to scrape off the excess.

If there's still paint left on my plate I usually try to capture a ghost image from the plate by using a lighter paper (90 lb. hot press or rice paper). This cognate or ghost is created in the same way described above. Sometimes the ghost is even more interesting that the original.

This monotype was created by painting the background on a plexiglas plate with oil paint. Then various abstract shapes were cut from transparency film and laid on the background. The print is pulled and then the stencil pieces are removed. The area behind the stencils is white. The stencil pieces are then laid paint side down on the white spaces and rolled out again.

This is the ghost image crated from the paint left on the plate after the monotype above was created. In this case I like the ghost print better than the monotype. The abstract images were created in the same way by flipping the stencil, paint side down onto the reserved white areas.



How are the prints dried?
I place the print between two sheets of newsprint and sandwich this between two sheets of plywood. If I have several prints I just add another piece of plywood to the layers. I then place a heavy weight (once I used my portable sewing machine, but now I have the heavy flat top of a metal bench my husband cast off). I change the newsprint for several days until the print is completely dry.

Then it is time to decide on the success of your monotype. Sometimes I embellish monotypes using acrylic or pastels. Other times I make am image transfer of parts of unsuccessful ones to include in mixed media work. Other times I may collage what I consider the successful aspect of a work into another work or there is always the reject drawer. Perhaps time will provide a new way to look at the work.

Tips when using oil paint for montotypes:

• Dip your brush in oil to dress it and then blot quickly on paper towel to remove excess oil (water if you are using water soluble oils). Don't forget to continually dab into the oil as you change colours/clean your brush. Too much oil will create thin applications of paint that will give a "watercolour" look to your transfer.
  
• Use several brushes to avoid cleaning or making mud.
• If you make a mistake scrape that part off with mat board or other stiff cardboard. Old credit cards make great scrapers too. Cut cardboard in various sizes that work with the scale of your painting.
  
• Concentrate on simplicity - you don't have to say everything, leave something to the viewer.
  
• Avoid layering colours because you will only get the top colour transferring. Anything underneath will be diluted or lost entirely.
• Subtle painting does not translate well in monotype. You need big jumps in value.
  

You may enjoy reviewing this material in video with additional information provided here and there. Arthur Secunda provides an informative account of monotype in this nine minute video.

These are my top three picks for print resources on monotype:

Monotype: Mediums and Methods for Painterly Printmaking, Julia Ayres
I consider this the "bible" of the monotype process. It has never let me down when I've had questions that needed answers.




Making Monotypes Using a Gelatin Plate: Printmaking without a Press, Nancy Marculewicz
If you want to try working on a softer plate this is the book to move your along.




Singular Impressions : The Monotype in America, Joann Moser
This book is a survey of over one hundred artists who work in many different media but who have all tried monotype. I like the range of artists and variety of work highlighted.

The art of monotype - 1

Lupins (2004) 10 x 18, monotype

I love monotype for its unpredictability and spontaneity. It moved me away from being uptight and controlling when I created work. (You may be thinking that Lupins is pretty up tight, but believe me it is loose compared to what I was creating at that point in my career.) For me monotype was the first step in a long line of explorations that brought me to a place in art where I am quite comfortable not knowing how something is going to turn out.

Many of my monotypes were created several years ago and I am now using parts of them or image transfers of them in new mixed media works as you can see illustrated in the previous post. You can create monotypes with simple tools at home or in a fully stocked printmaking shop. I've answered some basic questions about how I create monotypes.

What is a monotype?
A monotype is the simplest form of printmaking, requiring only pigments, a surface (plate) on which to apply them, paper and some form of pressure, e.g., an etching or litho press, or hand pressure with a rolling pin, brayer, flat spoon or your hand. The process allows you to create a one of a kind print.


Is this a new process?
The first monotype was attributed to Giovanni Beneddetto Castiglione who lived from 1616 to 1670. Other well known artists including William Blake, Edgar Degas, Camille Pissarro, Mary Cassatt and Paul Gauguin and numerous other artists experimented with monotype.

What materials have artists used for plates?
The plate can be any material that is flat and will release the paint easily. Many artists prefer plexiglas, but mylar, sealed multimedia board or cardboard, varnished wood or copper or zinc plates all work. For a really interesting experience try gelatin plates. This a great video by Linda Germain.

What media can be used?
I am most familiar with oils, water soluble oils, and oil based inks. I've had less success with acrylic and watercolour transfers. Other artists have created great transfers with water based media but I haven't found the magic formula for them.

How do I prepare the paper?
I prefer hot press watercolour papers , 140 lb. weight. Because watercolour paper has sizing it needs to be soaked well and blotted dry before using so that the paint won't sit on top of the paper. Most sized papers need to be soaked for up to an hour before using. When the paper is removed from the bath, blot it dry with a paper towel or shop towel until the paper has a matt finish.

If you are using unsized paper you just need to spray it rather than soak it. Once sprayed, it can be placed between two sheets of plastic (e.g., heavy plastic bag cut up into sheets, to keep the paper moist and to evenly distribute the moisture over the paper.

Rice paper or other thin papers can be used without wetting. You can also get interesting effects by transferring to dry or very rough papers. Experimentation is the order of the day.

How is paint/ink applied?
I use oil paint for my monotypes. There are basically two methods of applying paint, one is additive and the other is subtractive.

The subtractive method is know as "working from a dark field". The plate is covered with a medium and then portions are removed by scratching, scraping with a tool, cardboard, sponges, an gloved finger, etc. to create an image.

The additive method is known as "working into a light field" because the painting is developed on a clean surface. With this approach a sketch can be placed behind the plexiglas to guide the work. When applying paint use a thin, even application, otherwise you will get smearing or blobs when you transfer. Both methods can be combined to produce one piece.

I like to achieve a watercolour effect with my monotypes so I use sunflower oil to dress my brush frequently. I stay away from all solvents when using oil paint.

Stay tuned for part two....

Once a monotype

"Never throw anything you create away, not matter how dismal it appears at the time." One of my first instructors drilled this advice into our heads. I didn't know what I would do with all my rejects in my reject drawers, I just kept saving. Now eight years later I'm so glad I blindly followed her advice. Your "rejects" are your learning experiences, they chart in a concrete way how you moved through your development just as much as those works you consider successful. They often mark a crossroads in your development, places where you branched off for awhile or took completely alternate paths. They provide opportunities for journal entries about your practice or they become the journal entries of the "what not to do's" or the ideas about new places to go.

Now that I work mostly in mixed media, I go to the reject drawer constantly and find precious bits of work that I collage directly or colour copy and create image transfers. I also take whole works and rework them in another medium.

Movement of Life, 8 x 10, mixed media

I showed this image before but didn't discuss how it came to be. I took several months to explore using plant matter to create monotypes. It's very simple. You cover your plate (plexiglas in my case) with a background colour (oil or oil inks) and then place leaves, grasses or petals onto the plate in a pleasing composition. Place your soaked and blotted watercolour paper on top of the plate and roll out with a roller or run through a printing press. My roller, made my a machinist friend, is 85 pounds and does a great job. I have been just as successful leaning into my wooden pastry roller to get good transfers. If I'm using plant material, the only change I made with the pastry roller is using thinner paper (rice paper or less than 140 lb. watercolour paper).

When I pull the print, where the plant material was, is white negative space. The fern leaf above was a failed monotype I created in 2004 using this process, that I cut in three pieces and collaged into this new composition. The next image began in the same way but had additions.


You can see the white areas where the leaves were. I then took the leaves (which had all the oil paint from the background) and laid them on top of the negative space to to create a hint of their presence.

Growth, 2007, 8 x 8, mixed media

The background of this mixed media work was a monotype I created by placing the inked images of the leaves from the previous experiment on top of the original plate (oil side up) and added a new light weight sheet of cold press watercolour paper . When rolled I got a hazy background from the original plate and nice crisp leaves because they still had lots of paint on them. To finish Growth (also referring to my growth as an artist) I reinforced sections with acrylic paint and applied fiberous papers to finish it off.

You might enjoy seeing this video by Mary Margaret Briggs who uses a similar process. I live the organic shapes and simplicity of her work. I found this artist this year when I was researching artists who use gardens as inspiration in their art work.

Spring

Sprout, 10 x 14, monotype

Spring finally seems to have found Newfoundland. I thought this lively monotype matched my mood today. I would like to say I created it recently, but I've been busy working with grade 5 students on an art project in a local school. Today is my last day so hopefully there'll soon be something new to share.

For those of you who may not know this process, stay tuned. I'm preparing a detailed post about it. It was this process that helped me decide I could be an artist in 2001. I've been teaching my granddaughter the two year old version with fingerpaint.

A garden walk

Do you ever see a pathway, driveway or entrance and feel compelled to find out what lies further along? By answering this call I came upon a lovely garden just outside Birr Castle Demesne in Birr, Ireland. For days I passed this beautiful, inviting, blue-green door on my way into Birr town for groceries. While tempted to open it and peek in, I resisted. Another day I walked down a different street and saw a long driveway that led to a B &B. It beckoned me but my husband wasn't convinced he belonged there. I convinced him. Come along with me on a garden tour of the then Walcot residence grounds which might now have new owners because the property was for sale.

Wouldn't you want to know what was behind this door?

This is the entrance that convinced me to explore inside.

Just up the driveway was an inviting spot to take a rest. I wanted lemonade but none appeared.

In front of the house was a large gravel parking area and off it were a number of inviting archways that led to different areas. This one went to a private residence so I controlled myself.

Let's take this one and see what happens.

Ohhh, I just love the circles and the gentle curve.

If you're tired, take a little rest.

There's a gate just beyond the hanging branch.

We've taken a trip along the boundary of the property and landed back in the parking area.

Another path to follow...

I noticed that there were a number of paths, both long and short, that ended up where they began. There was a lot of walking involved in exploring a small area. I guess that's the ultimate in garden design.

This is another sitting areas near the house. I finally got to see what was behind the blue-green door.

It's just as inviting inside as out.

Headed back down the driveway I noticed another entrance I missed on the way up. Shall we venture in?

It's a small enclosed courtyard with lots of interesting areas.



Don't forget to look up too.

There now! Wasn't that a lovely walk?