Saturday life drawing - November

 Had a good session at the art gallery yesterday. My tutor suggested I use a limited palette of four colours: blue black, white, burnt sienna and yellow ochre. I was a bit sceptical of my ability to do anything useful with just those four colours but actually, I was really pleased with the result. It's not a good photograph - doesnt show the colours as they actually are. I also tried to work from dark to light as I tend to make my paintings very pale to start with. I faff for ages with too subtle a range of tones, then have to wallop in a load of dark tones just before time's up. not a good way to work.

Evelyn Dunbar: The Lost Works

A 1944 Pastoral, Land Girls Pruning at East Malling

Also on at Pallant House at the moment is a selection of work by WWII Official War Artist Evelyn Dunbar (1906 – 1960). The show consists mostly of paintings, drawings and illustrations found in the attic of a relative's home and not seen before. Mostly studies, these have been brought together with the finished works from public and private collections. These works are rarely seen also so it's a bit of a privilege to see them now.

Land Army Girls going to Bed

Dunbar was quite versatile and had different styles according to project in hand but it's the 'domestic' war scenes I really like. Part of me harrumphed that 'the little woman' had been kept at home and not sent to document the 'real' war stuff, but of course, the domestic was just as important to record as part of the war effort. These paintings are rather Spenceresque; the shapes of the figures, the composition and colours. 

Flying Apple Pickers

I think it's rather a shame though that Dunbar's work was squished into three small, dark rooms whilst David Jones was languishing in the more spacious upstairs galleries. Flying Apple Pickers, a painting I particularly liked, could hardly be seen as it was hung on a piece of wall sticking out into the space only a couple of feet wide - the painting just fitted.

Read more about the exhibition here.

Evelyn Dunbar and David Jones at Pallant House

David Jones ~ Garden Enclosed

Visited Pallant House last week to see the David Jones and Evelyn Dunbar exhibitions. Mostly it was the David Jones that drew me as there have been reviews nationally, but actually, it's the Evelyn Dunbar that's worth seeing.

A brief word about David Jones. Accomplished wood engravings heavily influenced by Eric Gill (Jones spent a lot of times with Gill, lived as part of his community in Ditchling and was engaged for a few years to Gill's daughter Petra); later paintings confused and insipid, looks like he never got to grips with colour. Disappointing. There are a few early paintings of big cats which I quite like; very spare in use of line and colour. I can see in these what his art teacher meant when he commented, “Look at that, you see, Jones leaves out everything except the magic.” 

There is a lot of Jones's work on display - five or six rooms in the main gallery. Evelyn Dunbar's  work on the other hand is squished into three small rooms downstairs. Much more varied and accomplished than Jones's. And she deserves her own post so I shan't tack her on to the end of this one.

Life drawing weeks 10 and 11

Quick oil sketch - 45 minutes

I don't have an awful lot to show for the last couple of weeks at life drawing as I have begun to paint in the sessions, and as I'm completely new to this, the results are somewhat ropey.

This first image is from the long pose at the end of the session, about 45 minutes, and is nothing more than a rough sketch in oils. The week before I had longer, over an hour, but what I produced was terrible so I wiped it all off and reused the board this week. It's going to take me a long time to master this I think but I'm really enjoying the process so far, even though the end product is no good.

I have been making drawings during the short poses to get my eye in and because there isn't really time to paint then.

Frank Auerback at Tate Britain

Head of JYM II 1982

Friday was a good day, despite the rain. I don't get up to London to look at art very often these days so it was good to have the opportunity to go to Tate Britain to see the Frank Auerbach retrospective.

I've been craving a good exhibition of paintings for some time; and for me, that's what this is. 

The work ranges from the 1950s to present day with the same subject matter often repeated. Portraits of the same handful of sitters, paintings of the same scenes around Auerbach's studio, views of his own studio. These provide a good sense of the way his work has developed over the years; subtle changes from thick layers of brashly coloured paint built up in almost sculptural relief, scraped back to more subdued tones on a flatter surface. The paintings lose none of the energy and movement and noise of the earlier works though.

Self-portrait, charcoal on paper, 1958

Head of Catherine Lampert II, 1985

Interior, Vincent Terrace, 1982-84

In the Studio IV, 2013-14

 I love Auerbach's charcoal drawings - from the early self-portraits (see above) to the later, more abstracted ones. The marks and the energy are compelling, though I don't understand how he got to this point (yet... I bought a copy of Catherine Lampert's recent biography of the artist so am hoping to understand his working processes better).

I think the thing I like best about Auerbach's work is that it makes me work hard. I have to look at one of his paintings for some time to try and gain some understaning of it. I don't just mean to work out what's going on in the painting... I'm not explaining this well. I guess I get sucked into the painting - the rich colours, the indistinct forms, the light and shade... the mystery of it. These works hold my attention in a way that I don't really expect or understand. Not sure if that makes sense... Anyway, I left the exhibition thinking, thinking, thinking about the work and wanting to know more. That has to be one of the signs of good work.

Ben Johnson, Spirit of Place: Paintings 1967 to 2015

Patio de los Arrayanes, 2015, acrylic on canvas, 220 x 220 cm

Went to see the Ben Johnson retrospective at  Southampton City Art Gallery this week. Many large, detailed, perfectly stencilled paintings, some of which are reputed to have taken 17 person years to make over a period of 18 months. 

I have to confess that largely, the photorealistic style leaves me cold, though I can appreciate the skill, concentration and sheer dedication to perfection and intricacy Johnson achieves in these works. This is extreme painting. Extreme painting.

Poolside reflection, 1984, acrylic on canvas, 159 x 217 cm

 
There are a couple of paintings of pools I like... they are a mass of layering of reflection and light and pattern which borders on abstraction. These are less straightforward representations of what the artists sees.

I won't beard on. Instead, listen to Johnson talking about his work here.

The Unattended Moment, 1993, acrylic on canvas, 184 x 243 cm

Influences part 1 - Paula Rego

Paul Rego ~ Three Blind MiceCopyright Victoria and Albert Museum

  

Lately, I've been thinking about artists who influence my work. This is a tricky one. I found I could name many artists I like but had to think hard about whether they influence me in making my images. Do I like them because I see similarities between their work and mine, or are those similarities there because I have been influenced on a subconscious level? Probably a bit of both. 

Anyway, to get some clarity on this issue, I think I shall throw in more posts about artists I appreciate - because they probably do influence the way I work to some extent, even if I don't realise it. 

Top of the list has to be Paula Rego, painter and etcher extraordinaire. I'm not going to give you a bio because you can look that up for yourself if you're interested, but here are some images I like (hard to pick just a few!). Figurative, narrative, a darkness... these are things that immediately grab me. She's a story teller.

Paula Rego ~ Celestina's House

Paula Rego ~ The Flood

Paula Rego ~ 'Crivelli’s Garden (The Visitation)', 1990

Lucian Freud: Portraits

Finally managed to get to The National Portrait Gallery in London yesterday to see the Lucian Freud exhibition (had booked to go in April but had to cancel due to inspection - grrrrr...).  And what a splendid exhibition it is; well worth the wait. 

The show spans his whole career, from teenage sketches to the painting he was working on when he died at the grand old age of 88 last year.  Poignant.  I don't think there's really any point in me saying anything about the work as it has been much talked about and surely everything there is to say has been said already.  All I can say is that I enjoyed the opportunity to contemplate such a range of his work, some of which I'd seen in his retrospective in 1987.  To view those paintings again was great and to see later work just as much of a treat. 

It wasn't as crowded as I'd thought it would be; had a slight twinge of gallery rage at one point but think that was about it, and we didn't have to queue.  Much.  It's on until the 27 May; still time to get there if you haven't seen it yet.

Four figures

Day six and the kitchen works are still doing. The plasterers arrived at some unearthly hour this morning; painful but it’s good to be getting it all done in one go rather than dragging it out. It’s beginning to look like a kitchen again now although still no sink or cooker. The absence of the sink has been the worst thing; you don’t realise how much you rely on it until it’s not there. We’ve resorted to paper plates to minimise the awkwardness of trying to wash up in a small cloakroom basin. It’s like camping only worse!

The studio has been full of kitchen parts, dishwasher and workmen all week so no printing or painting sadly. I have been drawing though; with a collection of small objects (above) which don’t take up much space, I’m pursuing my still life studies. Quick sketches of these four figures which I gathered together in a random but connected way… they seemed to fit well together, similar size and colour. Brass bell, Buddha and bodies. The brass bell has been knocking around since I was a kid – I remember playing with it when I was only just old enough to remember. The jade Buddha figure is a relatively recent acquisition and the two armless, legless, headless torsos I made from FIMO whilst doing A level art at sixth form, too many years ago now. They are quite satisfying shapes to draw and remind me of a fairly pivotal time in my art career. A little paint next I think.

When printmakers go rogue

I am painting again. Having dabbled briefly last summer, I put the paint and brushes away and returned to my core business of etching. It’s been a slow year though and I’ve only produced one print I’m happy with. I think I’ve got a bit bogged down with process; the way I work takes so long – which would be okay if I could get regular studio time.

Back to basics then. Drawing and painting. Working quickly and loosely with line and colour. The colour bit is particularly challenging as you can see from the work in progress above. My etchings are quite painterly but pretty much monochrome so I’m enjoying playing with colour. And being able to alter the composition more easily.

So this is a good thing and of course, it’s not really going rogue (even though my inner etcher is whispering ‘traitor!’ in my ear, and ‘you’ve gone over to the dark side…’) as many printmakers paint. And the smell of oil paint is almost as nice as etching ink…

BP Portrait Award 2011

The 2011 BP Portrait Award opened at the National Portrait Gallery last week so with much excitement I hot-footed it up to London at the weekend to have a look at this year’s selection. The only problem with going to see a show when it’s just opened (or just before it finishes) is that it’s pretty crowded. There was much weaving and jostling as we dodged from one painting to another, all out of sequence and diving for a free space wherever there was one. Not how one wants to experience a show really but I enjoyed it nonetheless.

The BP Portrait Award is a prestigious annual competition which attracts entrants from all over the world. This year there were 2,372 submissions, which doesn’t sound that many actually when you consider that the competition has been going for 32 years and is therefore renowned throughout the art world here and abroad. Maybe portraiture just isn’t that popular these days.

55 works were selected; out of those, the prizes were awarded as follows:

First – Wim Heldens, Distracted

Second – Louis Smith, Holly

Third – Ian Cumberland, Just to Feel Normal

Young Artist Prize – Sertan Saltan, Mrs Cerna

Travel Award – Jo Fraser, Flora MacGregor

It’s disappointing that there doesn’t seem to be anything published about how the judges came to their decision. Apparently they select without knowing who the paintings are by to avoid any form of bias. These things are always so subjective though, and I find I rarely agree with the decisions. I really liked third prize winner Ian Cumberland’s Just to Feel Normal (take note of the size – 1500 x 1000 mm - not a small painting) but the first and second prize winning paintings, well… meh.

There were many other striking works in the show but one that particularly stood out for me (probably because it had a narrative element) was I could have been a contender by Wendy Elia (at the top of this post). There’s plenty going on in this painting which is an interesting take on the family portrait. It shows the artist herself with her children and grandchildren, some in photographs and postcards. The title adds another layer of meaning relating to her career as an artist and a woman in the art world.

I also liked David Carter at Home by Richard Brazier. The perspective was interesting as were the surroundings; I like the way the sculpture on the table echoes the pattern on the carpet. I also like the slightly uncomfortable way the subject is sitting. The diagonals of the legs disappearing out of the canvas give the feeling that maybe the subject was anxious to be off – even though he’s wearing his slippers!

There is the usual range of sizes from the gargantuan Holly with its imposing frame to the rather sweet and intimate Portrait of my father by Tomas Georgeson at just 300 x 230 mm. Smaller still are Matthew Schofield’s Six Decades, a series of six paintings each 10 cm square. Who said big is beautiful?

This year’s BP Portrait Award has the usual high standard of work and is well worth a look. If you’re interested in portraiture check it out.

Diverting from my core business

Just recently, I’ve developed a strong desire to paint. Odd because in the last six years, I’ve been rather stubborn about NOT painting, seeing myself as a hardcore printmaker and nothing else. Short-sighted I admit; several people have told me lately that painting would help my etching, especially now that I’m using aquatint in quite a painterly way. I blame my old adversary, time – there never seems to be enough of it for printmaking, never mind painting.


I’m not sure exactly what’s triggered this urge to paint. There have been a number of contributing factors I think. Recently I taught a portrait drawing class to twenty-five or so members of a local art society which was great fun and took me outside printmaking. My students obviously enjoyed it too as I have been asked to do some more sessions with them. I’ve been looking at a lot of painters too of late – or should I say relooking. They’re all artists whose work I’ve admired for years; Lucian Freud, Caravaggio, Stuart Luke Gatherer. The cream of international portrait painting is now on show at the BP Portrait Awards which has just opened at the National Portrait Gallery (it’ll be interesting to see if visitor numbers are lower this year). And of course there’s dear old Flagstaff Jim feverishly painting away out there in the Arizona desert; a constant source of inspiration for me.

I love etching and still have much to learn and master, but I think part of the painting urge has to do with size. I’m limited in how big I can work by my press and I think I want to work really large for a change. My head is reasoning with my intuition and says that practically, it’s not a good thing to do (time, space, cost…) but my intuition says do it. And as I’ve decided (rationally of course) that I need to listen to the latter more, it’s time to head off to buy paint.

Top: Self-Portrait: Reflection, Lucian Freud, 2002
Middle: Lucian Freud
Bottom: Decisions, Stuart Luke Gatherer