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.

Eric Ravilious: terminal optimist

I went to a talk about the life and work of Eric Ravilious this week. I’m familiar with his wood engravings but knew little of his life or his paintings so thought I’d take an early lunch break and trot along to the FOSMAG lecture in town.

Born in 1903, it seems that Ravilious had a pleasant childhood and uneventful adult life (before it was tragically cut short in 1942 when he was just 39). I say uneventful; he married (and had affairs), had three children and a very successful career in design before being commissioned as a war artist at the outbreak of the second world war. I guess what I mean is that as far as I know, his life seemed relatively trauma-free. And by all accounts he was terminally cheery. Fellow artist and friend Douglas Percy Bliss said, ‘I never saw him depressed. Even when he fell in love – and that was frequently – he was never submerged by disappointment. Cheerfulness kept creeping in.’ How tiring that must have been for everyone around him.

Even in the throes of war, he seemed abnormally optimistic. About his post in the Observer Corps on Sudbury Hill, he wrote: ‘We wear lifeboatmen's outfits against the weather and tin hats for show. It is like a Boy's Own Paper story, what with spies and passwords and all manner of nonsense.’ And in the midst of bloody sea battle off the coast of Norway: ‘I enjoyed it a lot, even the bombing which is wonderful fireworks.’ Insane.

This cheeriness filters through to his war paintings, which rather leave me cold. Whilst I don’t dispute that he was a talented artist, to me his watercolours feel like an extension of his design work and have nothing of the horrors of war about them; there’s no angst or real sense of drama. The pale colours and simple shapes might look more at home as fabric designs (I wouldn’t mind his cheery boats and planes bobbing across my curtains…). His wood engravings on the other hand, are a whole different ball game - much more effective. Think I'll stick with those.

You can’t keep an old etcher down

After a hiatus of about six months, it’s good to be etching again. I started this image as a wood engraving but the call of the aquatint was too strong, so here he is on a 20 x 30 cm zinc plate. I’m trying to work more quickly and haphazardly, not so meticulously with this one so we’ll see how that approach goes; I’m pleased with how he’s coming along so far though. Working on some text to go with the image now.

Whilst I was at it, I mixed up a new batch of copper sulphate solution – quite a pleasing New Year ritual. The vibrant blue of the copper sulphate crystals and the way they turn green and yellow when mixed with salt and hot water, then back to a blue solution made me think of Spring. Not that I’m wishing my life away, but the days are getting longer now…

Origins

Over the last few months I’ve been thinking on and off about beginnings and endings, birth and death, and how development is affected by external factors. I was weaving this into an etched self-portrait but as my etching mojo seems to have taken what I hope is just a temporary leave of absence, I need to rethink and carry this work in a new direction and in a new medium.

Foetuses are a rather obvious place to start as an emblem of new beginnings, but start there I shall. The drawing above is in the process of being transferred to a wood engraving block and will, I think, be surrounded by some text.

Finished frog

And here he is, tidied up. Just took out some of the odd bits that I missed before proofing. Amazing what a difference that makes, although obviously, still pretty rough. I'd be embarrassed to show it to a real wood engraver. It was fun to do though.

First proof

Took the first proof off my block yesterday and here it is; pretty rough around the edges but not as bad as I thought it would be... although possibly looks more like a wood cut than a wood engraving. Needs some tidying up. Oh and I need to order some relief ink as my tin had completely dried up (had to print it using etching ink) – shows how long it’s been since I last did any wood engraving!

Block size: 750 x 500 mm, 3 x 2 inches

New glasses can wait

It seems I've found the solution to the problem of not being able to see what I'm doing on my wood block. Forget the new glasses; look what I found lying around in the studio (inherited from my father who was always making something and was very long sighted). This magnifying lens on a stand is the perfect size and shape – my sandbag fits exactly underneath. Working on the block this afternoon has been much easier. Well, from the point of seeing what I’m doing that is.

The image is very slowly taking shape – hope to be able to take a proof soon. My main problem is bruising the edges of the cuts with the bottom of the tool. I need to take some advice from Someone Who Knows about this and what I can do to stop it. I’m a bit embarrassed to show the block to a real wood engraver though as it’s so rough and badly done. Ah well, I’m not planning to use it for anything – it’s just for practice.

I may need new glasses

Having made a start on a wood engraving, I am reminded of how fiendishly difficult and slow-going it is. I’m struggling to see what I’m doing too. After working on the block for an hour this afternoon, I scanned it and blew the image up large on my computer screen – what a mess! Shudder to think what’s going to come out when I finally get to the proofing stage. I’m beginning to regret adding the text – really fiddly. This is a maple block, 75 x 50 mm (approximately 3 x 2 inches).

Back to life

It’s funny how time stands still when you’re ill… time out of time. Life goes on around you and you sort of feel yourself slipping behind; whilst everyone else is hurtling towards December, I’m just shuffling into November. Back to work this week though, and it feels so good to be back in the world again, even though I’ve lost a month.

Sadly, the above frogs are all I’ve managed artistically during that time. I have a hankering to do some wood engraving or linocutting; just can’t seem to settle back into etching at the moment. I have done both before and found it really challenging as it’s a very different way of working and thinking. It doesn’t naturally suit my images which are well-rooted in intaglio techniques so it’ll be good for me to adapt my work accordingly. Interestingly circular as I started this blog to record my progress with wood engraving.

Garrick Palmer: A Life in Wood Engraving

2011 got off to a slow start for me due to two bouts of illness and a variety of domestic disasters involving broken cars, rotten kitchen floor joists and cracked toilet cisterns. Creatively, January was pretty much a bust.

February however began much more promisingly with a visit to Pallant House Gallery in Chichester to see an exhibition of wood engravings by Garrick Palmer. I first came across his work about five years ago when I was working on a series of card cuts based on Bartleby the Scrivener by Herman Melville. I found a copy of the Folio Society’s publication of the same from 1967 (Three Stories, Herman Melville) on ebay, illustrated by Palmer. Naturally I had to buy it, being very careful not to look at it until I had all my images established. I didn’t want to be influenced even subconsciously by another artist’s images of the story.

Garrick Palmer was born in Portsmouth in 1933 and studied Fine Art at Portsmouth College of Art and Design where he first learnt wood engraving, and at the Royal Academy Schools in London. He taught at Winchester School of Art from 1962 to 1986 where he was Head of the Foundation Department. This last is particularly interesting to me as I studied in that same department from 1987 to 1988 so missed him by a whisker; how annoying.

The retrospective exhibition brings together prints and book illustrations spanning Palmer’s whole career and includes many images of the English landscape, something he returns to time and time again and clearly loves. These are autobiographical to some extent, marking significant points in his life; his wife’s battle with cancer for instance, and when he himself was diagnosed with diabetes.

It was Palmer’s book illustrations I was drawn too though, particularly the nautically themed ones. His illustrations for Moby-Dick are breathtaking in complexity, composition and atmosphere, as are those for The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (the latter took ten years to complete). I found it hard to tear myself away from these. And although not my favourite of Palmer’s images, I was pleased to see an original copy of Bartleby himself. I love Melville’s story of the Wall Street Scrivener.

Not being a wood engaver myself, I don’t feel qualified to comment on his technique; I do know however, that he’s a master of it and if you’re at all interested in wood engraving, go and see this show before it finishes on 13 March.

Images:
Ancient Mariner II
Hampshire Fields

The Royal Society of Painter-Printmakers Annual Exhibition

I sloshed my way up to the Bankside Gallery in London on Saturday to have a look at the annual RE show which was as rich and varied as always. It’s a bit of a two-edged sword for me because I find it inspiring and motivating but at the same time, a bit depressing as it reminds me of how little time I get to work on my art.

A print that really caught my eye was Decadensian by Frederick Morris, a newly-elected student member of the Society. This large etching and aquatint appealed to my penchant for atmosphere and narrative. It reminded me of an updated version of Hogarth’s Gin Lane although rather darker and more chaotic if that can be imagined.

During the duration of the show, several of the participants have given demonstrations of their particular medium; Angie Lewin and Gail Brodholt were giving linocut and wood engraving demos on Saturday. Still to come are demonstrations in linocutting, wood engraving and etching by Roy Willingham, Daphne Casdagli and Kate Dicker. The show ends on Sunday 6 June.

Originals 10

I paid my annual visit to the Mall Galleries on Saturday for
Originals 10, the top UK open exhibition for contemporary printmaking in which works by emerging talent hang along side those of established printmakers and members of the Royal Society of Painter Printmakers. Virtually every printmaking technique is covered from etching (check out Martin Ridgwell and Mychael Barratt), wood engraving (Hilary Paynter was on excellent form as usual), linocuts (Gail Brodholdt and Angie Lewin) and mezzotints (Martin Langford) to collagraphs, screenprints, digital and lasercut works.

In past years the show has felt a bit samey; same people showing the same kind of work, but this year, there seemed to be much more of a range of techniques and styles. In Venetian Diary III, Mila Furstova had wrapped her etchings of Venetian buildings in sheets of clear acetate covered in handwritten text, rolled into tubes. Jenny Smith’s Circles II and Circles IV are laser cut screen prints, combining a traditional printmaking technique with the relatively new technology of laser cutting. Carol Hensher specialises on printing on fabric; My fingers grasp at floating feathers comprises four white silk evening gloves with hands printed on them using lithographic methods. Fiona Hepburn cuts out hundreds of tiny woodcut and screen prints and fixes them in clusters using pins to create intricate fungal and bacterial forms.

My own tastes are more traditional; I find myself drawn to figurative works with something of a narrative in them. Personal favourites were Jessie Brennan’s Six Boys, Catherine Anne Hiley’s Untitled I (Dietrich) and Untitled III (Orhan), and Katherine Jones’s Magenta Strip. These are just a few; in a show like Originals, there are so many prints to look at it can be quite overwhelming.

Whilst there, we had the pleasant surprise of bumping into Katherine Anteney, one of the directors of Red Hot Press Printmaking Workshop here in Southampton. She made an interesting comment that the show was very ‘black and white’ this year; more monochrome prints than in previous years maybe. Presumably that was just the way the selection went but it would be interesting to know if the selectors were aware of this at the time. And speaking of Red Hot Press, our very own Wendy Couchman, one of the members, had a print included – congratulations Wendy!

All in all, it was a really interesting show this year, well worth a visit. Shall look forward to Originals 11.

Images:
Katherine Jones, Magenta Strip
Catherine Anne Hiley, Untitled III (Orhan)
Jessie Brennan, Six Boys

Self-imposed exile

Returning from some time away, it’s amazing how quickly a week of peace and quiet relaxation can be wiped out when one steps back into the fray! It was a restful week though, out in the middle of the New Forest with just the birds, squirrels, horses, the odd deer and very patchy mobile phone signal. I recommend it.

I had planned to do some drawing and writing whilst away but didn’t get around to either. And that’s fine (she says, trying not to beat herself up for wasting all that potential creative time) because the purpose of the week was to wind down from a gruelling couple of years, the first proper break in that time.

I did read a book about creativity however. It isn’t the greatest book by any means (a bit cheesy and RIDDLED with typos) but it gave me one or two things to think about. The author makes the point that it is essential for us to express our creativity in order to lead fulfilling lives and not to feel impoverished mentally, emotionally and spiritually. Whilst this may be obvious to those who spend a significant proportion of their time creating in one form or another, I don’t think it hurts to be reminded every now and then; especially for those of us who don’t make a living from our art. Life – the day job, family, caring responsibilities, socialising – can so easily squeeze out creativity and make one feel guilty for spending time on it.

Incidentally, it was a year ago today I started my blog. A lot has happened creatively over the last year. The original intention was to use the blog to document my progress in wood engraving but somehow, that was hijacked by me setting up my own etching studio, a significant and rather marvellous change in direction. This gave me the opportunity to start using and experiment with pine resin as an aquatint, courtesy of Jim Spence, printmaker extraordinaire and master of the monoprint. This has moved my work forward significantly and has helped me achieve some of the tonal and textural qualities I was getting from card cuts. Still a long way for me to go to really get to grips with it but I’m already getting some interesting results.

The year was also quite a busy one for exhibiting; two US print exchanges, Printmakers Cut 3 in Chichester, Hampshire Open Studios and best of all, I had work selected for the international printmaking conference, IMPACT 6 in Bristol. A hectic year creatively, considering everything else that was going on. I think this year will be quieter; one in which I hope to concentrate on improving my aquatinting skills and progress some more narrative work. Always plenty to think about!

The Albion

I got to have a go on an Albion press this afternoon – get me! I spent a very pleasant afternoon at the home of wood engraver and fellow Red Hot Press member Jutta Manser who is the proud owner of a small Albion press. And what a thing of beauty it is. Jutta showed me how it worked and I printed a couple of my own wood engraving blocks on it; wonderful.

Made in 1884, it’s a magnificent piece of engineering. And ornate with its gold paintwork on black. One has to keep reminding oneself that these were actually working machines used in the printing trade, not merely decorative ornaments. Even the feel of it, winding the plate in and out and pulling across the handle with a satisfying clunk, is most gratifying. I can’t help but wonder about its history; where it’s been for the last 120 odd years… and how nice it is to be a little part of that history, if only a speck.

And congratulations to Jutta for having two prints selected for the Society of Wood Engravers annual show at Bankside Gallery, London in September. Richly deserved.

A delightfully printmaking-filled weekend

… is what I’ve just had. On Saturday I went on a wood engraving course at Red Hot Press, the print workshop I’m a member of, and jolly good it was too. Jutta gave us an excellent exercise to start us off and get us to use different tools to make a variety of marks. We had to divide the block in half and using a leaf as our basic form, engrave one half of the block black on white and the other half white on black. Not as easy as it sounds!

I was working on a block about 3cm by 1.5cm, the smallest I’ve ever done so that was a challenge in itself. Not particularly taken with the result but it was a really useful and fun day.

Yesterday I spent most of the day in my own studio working on the sisters-in-law. They’re barely a week old but showing signs of aging already…

Reflection

It’s funny what a difference putting a print away for a few days or weeks can do for ones perceptions of it. I often dislike work when I finish it and then put it away to flatten. I come back to it later with fresh eyes and it usually (but not always!) looks a lot better. I guess I get sick of the image when I’ve spent a long time working on it and am unable to view it objectively. Such was the case with my cockle wood engraving.

I said goodbye to a friend today. I’ve not known her long but have developed a fondness for her and a great respect for her wisdom, compassion and ethics; I’ll miss her. Sad when we have to say goodbye to the really good people.

I wanted to give her something to say thank you and the cockle seemed the most appropriate, the sea being a recurring theme in our conversations. I was pleased when I got it out of its tissue. I hope she likes it and it will be a positive reminder of a good ending.

Unsatisfactory

No takers for my cardcut course this weekend sadly so no teaching for me. This means I can spend the weekend packing up books so that the builders can get to where they need to get. Lucky me.

The cockle wood engraving is finished. What can I say? I don’t like it. It’s flat and uninteresting. Good practice though. Hope the etched version turns out better on Friday.

An image of the Undertaker’s sisters-in-law is forming…

An unusual bookbinding press

Had a good few hours in the studio today – back on the cockle wood engraving. I arrived at the stage of being able to take the first proof which is always exciting. Still a lot of work to do on it but it’s good to be able to see where it’s going. However, I find that I tend to change style part the way through the engraving which isn’t very helpful; and it’s really noticeable on this one. Hmm, not quite sure how to fix it at this point…

I tried printing the block on my bookbinding press for the first time. Really didn’t think it would work but it’s great. A bit fiddly to get the block, paper and vinyl (used like an etching press blanket) under the platen as it only just fits but it actually produces a better print than I was pulling by burnishing. Bonus.

I’m including a picture of my bookbinding press in this post because it’s an unusual design. Bought it from good old ebay but the chap who sold it to me didn’t know anything about bookbinding or printing or this press. All the ones I’ve seen have either a T-shaped arrangement for screwing down the platen; this one has the screw underneath the arm bits (technical term there) and a lever for increasing the pressure once the platen’s been screwed down. I’d be interested to know if anyone else has seen one similar.

Project Atelier update

The studio is looking more like a studio as the days go on – having posted some photos of the inking and hotplate area, here’s the general work area on the other side of the studio. Things will change around again in June when my etching press arrives (ordered it this week - how exciting is that!). The glass inking slab will move to the general work area and the press will go on the bench where the glass is now. This is a much heftier bench so should take the weight of the press. I hope.

It’s wonderful in the studio; so peaceful and relaxing. I’m back to wood engraving now – very satisfying.

Also spent some time sorting out some of Dad’s tools to donate to a new project being set up in the area – bike recycling. The intention is to stop local youths nicking bikes by working with them to refurbish old ones. Sounds like a good scheme.

More found objects: a shoe last, many weights, a Salter's pocket balance, two transformers (the electrical kind, not the 'robots in disguise', a fire extinguisher, an oscillating fan, two model gliders, a rocking horse, a wind break, a gazebo, golf clubs, an elephant's headdress, a barometer, two thermometers and a thing for measuring humidity. It's quite dry in there - idea for storing one's paper

From the Atelier

How wonderful it is, after a long day of number crunching and caring responsibilities, to be able to retire to the studio for an hour or two. It’s so peaceful in there; one can almost forget the city goes about its business just outside. The birdsong seems to be louder and clearer, smothering the drone of the traffic.

In the last few months, I’ve really come to cherish silence. Well, not silence exactly, but quiet. The absence of human voices. Odd really, considering it’s been a number of years since I’ve been able to go to sleep without the radio on. Plays, books, poetry; I think it may relate to the love of being read to I developed as a child.

Anyway, several major life changes over the last year or so seem to have triggered changes in me. Inevitable I suppose.

But back to the art, which is what this blog is supposed to be about. I’m revisiting the cockle but as an etching instead of a wood engraving. ‘Wimp!’ I hear you cry…

My wordless studio companion Lilly.