Encounters

Encounters

Situated objects and how we encounter them is a real interest of mine.

This is how I became interested in Spatial Design. I have written about this before in my blog, see ‘The Space between Things’.

I wrote that ‘Design is a powerful process that can be used to influence how people feel in a space. An example of this in its very basic form is to imagine a room, quite bare but at its centre on the floor lays a brown standard hard brick. Now, imagine how this would compare with the same room, again quite bare except in the centre there is a beautiful vase of colourful flowers. Each encounter would feel very different.’

Jan's colourful, busy and warm kitchen was a delight. Nothing contrived about this space.

Watching BBC 2’s ‘The Great Interior Design Challenge’ makes me squirm, I find it compelling but also very formulaic. I guess to make it appeal as entertainment, some drama must be injected into the show, but the ‘good cop/bad cop’ ‘experts’ leave me struggling to comprehend their understanding of design. In the last series they coined such phrases as ‘colour pop’, this time they are mentioning ‘colour winks’. Sigh. Still, I quite like to watch the more professional Tom Dyckhoff struggle with getting his architectural history links into the script. Maybe I am being overly critical of a show that I will want to watch the final of this evening, but it is interesting to see how the contestants contrive groupings of objects within a room’s interior decorating scheme.

So, to recognise real peoples’ choice through their small collections of objects within a space is fascinating, a true insight into their own personal interests, values and expression.

My dresser, with Mark Hearld's book open on it.

Since I wrote an entry in this blog, back in September titled ‘Collections’, I have received a few photos of other peoples dressers. 

Becky's shelves showing my card (middle shelf, off centre.)

Interestingly, one of these had a card on it, that I had made, which had a photograph of my dresser on it. It felt like looking at a form of creative infinity. Another one which was sent to me was of my blog showing the same image on an Ipad, propped up amongst someone else’s personal collection of objects.

My windowsill, another favorite place for collections.

These objects often have such importance to the owner that when gathered together they almost have the reverent feel of an altar. I remember the nature table at school, this to me had a similar feel.

A nature table as illustrated in my 'Going to School' Ladybird book of 1959.

It was a very powerful reminder of the season that we were in and the importance and beauty of natural forms.

Yes, what is it about kitchen dressers?

I am currently reading ‘Toast and Marmalade and other stories’, by Emma Bridgewater.

A kitchen dresser spread from Emma Bridgewater's book, 'Toast and Marmalade'.

As much as I suspected that I would find her writing annoying, perhaps a bit too middle class, I will admit to loving the book.

She has a chapter called, ‘Little altars everywhere’ and ‘What is it about kitchen dressers?’ She writes, ‘It seems as if these shelf arrangements really are like little altars to creative inspiration, whose regular contemplation is a fundamental part of making design.’

My fairly tasteless but lovely collection of ceramic birds.

Yes, I totally agree, as would Mark Hearld, the artist I also wrote about in September, whose abundantly creative and inspirational finds were pictured grouped together on many shelves.

One of my mantlepieces evoking an altar like quality in the limited space available.

Emma Bridgewater starts off her chapter on dressers by realising that she is more aware of everything on her dresser than she is of the contents of her wardrobe and goes on to write. ‘I think mum was using the dresser in the kitchen in Oxford as a giant collage illustrating family life. She declared on her dresser that matching sets were redundant, that you should follow your heart and that if you did, you would make harmony out of dissonance.’

The shop display dresser at 'Number Seven', Dulverton. A gem of a shop.

When we visited friends last weekend I made sure to take some photos of their dresser for use in this blog. They run ‘Number Seven’, in Dulverton, Somerset. It has to be the most exquisite and beautiful shop that I visit regularly. I love to visit so that I can spend time in there just taking in all the precious handcrafted work. This time, it felt very hard to share the space with others, as it was busy with Xmas shoppers.

Jan's dresser in the kitchen at the back of the shop.

I withdrew from the shop space into the back kitchen when it became busy and sat in the back kitchen by the log burner, drinking tea with friends until it was clear again. Here I photographed Jan’s kitchen dresser and a section of the mantelpiece above the fire.

Jan's mantlepiece over her cosy log burner.

Davina uses a large kitchen dresser in the shop as a display area too, so I was quite happy snapping these photos of other dressers, intrigued by their displays of both personal and retail artefacts. 

'Number Seven' dresser before its festive treatment, it will be even more magical this weekend.

Landscape Collections

Collections of objects in the landscape are curious forms. I am thinking of situated objects such as stones that form Stonehenge or any other stone circle. Groupings of worked timber pieces are also curious as they often have or have had a purpose.

 

Timber forms in the landscape. Looking across to Wales.

They are a reminder that we, as humans, have been able to adapt and repurpose natural resources to create solutions for many of our needs, including sacred, industrial and domestic use.

Sea worn and wind weathered timber remnants.

Over the weekend as we walked on Blue Anchor beach after a hearty breakfast at The Driftwood Café, I saw in the distance rows of timber posts. They were well worn and not in a rhythmic organised style that I recognised from the sea defences along the Kent coast, which are called ‘groynes.’

Beautifully sculptural timber.

We walked towards them; it seems to be a natural thing to do on a walk, to be drawn to objects in the landscape, especially collections. I wonder if this goes back to our basic instincts, to draw closer to other forms, so that we are less conspicuous, or maybe we are just naturally curious.

The timbers formed a long procession across the beach.

As we drew closer, I encountered a sculptural array of weathered forms. They were apparently the remains of very old fish-traps. I have seen medieval examples on Tankerton Beach, before the new sea defence work piled loads of shingle on top of them. There are some good examples, still on show to the west of Seasalter beach, but these wooden remains were approachable as the tide was out.

 

Another close up showing the smooth tide of time.

They seemed bigger and more impressive on such a wild and windy day and comforting even, to think of others out there in the past, creating and using these traps.

I shall see over the next week whilst walking, whether there is a comfort in finding man made structures in the landscape. They can be seen as landmarks and points to navigate by, but maybe by their very existence there is a reassurance in their human connection, especially in wild landscapes.

(I completed my MA in September 2014 and recorded the last two months of it in another blog called www.thesaltwayfarer.blogspot.co.uk

Please feel free to look at that anytime, as it is from that, that I am where I am now.)

Reading and Writing

Reading and Writing

‘To read a poem in January is as lovely as to go for a walk in June’, Jean-Paul Satre

This quote is the one I tried to find a few blog entries ago and even wrongly merited it to Yeats. But in researching the author of this quote I came across many other inspirational words, poems, stories and lyrics. So that was good. 

Seasalter beach, looking East with stormy sky.

Sinky mud, leaking wellies.

   

Ironically, in setting up my walking project, I have done less walking, but more reading and writing than I had ever expected to. I think this may be due to existing time commitments, but I must admit it is also due to the fear of walking alone in the countryside.

Walking with others and their dogs is a lovely option.

Living by the sea, here in Whitstable, I am very fortunate to be able to walk along the concrete promenade that edges the coast, built as part of the sea defence which stretches from Seasalter to Ramsgate.

Walking with company.

It is often busy with other people, especially dog walkers, so it mostly feels very safe to walk alone along the coast. But when it comes to walking along a country lane, footpath or through woods by myself, I feel a sense of anxiety. I think it would be good for me to acknowledge this and work out what I could do to feel more confident,  because if I feel this way, I am certain that I am not the only female feeling this anxiety when walking alone.

 

Really stormy skies over Whitstable.

I wonder whether this could become part of the art project that Arlette George and I have now decided we will do together, to explore human movement in the landscape. We will look for funding to create a project that will link two far away places in the UK: the Ardnamurchan Penisular in Scotland and Kent in England. Both areas have a large coastline and lie at the furthest geographical Westerly and Easterly points of the UK.

It's amazing what inspiration can come from just looking closely.

So, in my mind, to create a dynamic between these places and between the land and our bodies through the exploration of movement would be great. I don’t know how the project will look at the moment. That in itself would be part of the inquiry. How to articulate the project and create something of worth that could be discovered and used to inform the walking project ‘People-to-Place’ would be just one outcome. I would hope that the project in itself would lead us to other less prejudiced conclusions too.

Seaweed awaiting the tide to come in.

The Landscape as Metaphor

I attended an inspiring workshop on Saturday, it was held at the Beaney Institute in Canterbury and led by Mary Reynolds Thompson.

‘Reclaiming the Wild Soul’, turned out to be the perfect antidote to the last weekends' disappointment. From the start we were given a warm welcome and an appreciation of how we could expect to spend our valuable time. It was made clear what was to be the subject of our inquiry and guidelines were given so that we were able to understand the expectations of our group work such as confidentially, emotional responses and sharing.

A close up of the top of a groyne. A mini landscape.

After such a disappointing and traumatic workshop held the previous weekend by the UCA in Margate, this clarity and recognition of us as individuals was most welcome. Mary led the workshop with great integrity and generosity.

Mary lives in California and so it was a great opportunity to participate in, I think, her only workshop this year on our soil.

We wrote about archetypal landscapes, such as deserts, forests and oceans and rivers. These formed short texts, poems and more. In exploring the landscapes and in our thoughts how we feel about them, we are able to tap into a deeper wisdom. The other participants at the workshop were a great group, fully engaged and inspired by the idea of the landscape as metaphor and I really enjoyed their company. We all seemed to create beautiful writing.

‘When we connect to the wild we discover within ourselves the insight of the poets, the power of the shamans, and an unbridled passion for our precious earth. The wild exists in us and around us. Enter it and you transform the way you live, work, create and dream.’ 

Mary Reynolds Thompson.

She has written two books on this subject and holds many events. I urge anyone with an interest to look her and her work up. It is inspiring and deep.

Daily Practice

Here is a small snippet of a longer written piece, my response to a poem by Mary Oliver that I had been asked me to read. The poem was very apt. A couple of questions prompted me to think about ‘How is paying attention to the world a kind of prayer?’ and ‘How does this poem make you re-examine your own ‘wild and precious life?’

‘My wild and precious life; my luck to be here,

Right now, to feel connected, engaged and open.

Appreciation of it all is my prayer; I try to remain devout in prayer; even on the greyest day there may be a rainbow somewhere, a raindrop with all the colours within.’ 

Clare Jackson

I listened to a wonderful radio play years and years ago called ‘Spoonface Steinburg’, it was written by Lee Hall and broadcast as a monologue on BBC Radio 4 in 1997. The music is amazing, with excerpts from operas, sung by Maria Callas. But the part of me it touched and was able to be eloquently put was her understanding of what it was to be alive. How she recognised that everyday actions that we take can all be seen as prayers. I recommend listening to it, I will do so, soon.

It was with excitement that I realised that my painting ‘My Path’ is on this weeks page in the ‘Earth Pathways’ diary.

'My Path', on this weeks' diary page spread.

I feel quite proud to see it there and very pleased that it has been put with a poem by Simon Sawyer called ‘Dream Song’ which I feel really resonates with it.

‘Out of the earth came wind, and out of the

 air came sun, out of the rock came water.

Where they met, spirit grew,

And trees were born,

The trees dreamed of birds,

The birds dreamed of song, the song yearned

To love, and the love grew strong.’ 

Simon Sawyer. 2012

Every day I complete my ‘Morning pages’, a few pages of writing recommended as a creative tool in Julia Camerons’ wonderful book ‘The Artists Way’. I see this as my daily practice, this and appreciating what it is, to be.

(I completed my MA in September 2014 and recorded the last two months of it in another blog called www.thesaltwayfarer.blogspot.co.uk

Please feel free to look at that anytime, as it is from that, that I am where I am now.)

Recognition

Recognition

I believe that humans need to feel like they have a purpose in the world. When this is recognised, a feeling of value is generated. This feeling of value creates happiness which in turn can encourage good health and wellbeing. So, to go to a ‘conversation’ about value and come out of it 3 hours later none the wiser left me disheartened and frustrated. The ‘Creative Challenge’ hinted at, but not explained by the host, Uwe Derkson, on the day was ‘How Do We Articulate Value?’  

His co-host was Nixiwaka Yawanawa, a member of the most endangered tribe in the world, the Awa, who has been working with Survival International since 2013.

I really enjoyed hearing Nixiwaka talk. It felt a privilege to be there and hear his considered answers to all the questions that he was asked. He explained that his tribe all have a calling to connect with the land, they live in nature and practice spirituality regularly, through ritual, ceremonies and journeying. Two shamans guide them, one is 102 years old and the other one, well, he explained, no-one really knows how old he is…

I will not explain any more about the ‘conversation’, as I was deeply ashamed to have been part of UCA, (the University of the Creative Arts), in the not too distant past. I completed my MA with them just over a year ago and it was with a form of loyalty that I chose my old college, (Medway College of Design), which now forms part of the UCA, as a base for my learning. To cut a long and disturbing story short, I felt it was nothing but aloofness and arrogance that Uwe Derkson represented on that day, on behalf of the UCA, to both the audience, me included and to Nixiwaka.

When I spoke to Nixiwaka after the event it transpires that he does not judge, he and his tribe share and he recognises his purpose whilst over here is to educate others about the threatened indigenous peoples’ way of life. I really hope to catch up with him another time, I would love to walk with him in nature and understand more about his tribes’ connection with the land.

I had identified this quote earlier in the week for this blog and now it seems even more meaningful. If more of us were able to connect with the spirit of nature and access the wisdom of our ancestors, we would take more care of the miracle which is life.

"The more clearly we can focus our attention on the wonders and realities of the universe around us, the less taste we shall have for destruction" - Rachel Carson

Connecting People

So, I wonder, how can this be done? I think, by just getting out there and walking.

Walking and experiencing reality.

Both, in nature and in urban areas,

Along paths, across landscapes.

Walking.

Placing one foot in front of another.

Pacing, breathing and being.

Becoming human again. 

Peace can be found in this way.

Walking.

People to place

Connecting people

Putting peace in place.

Movement

I remember at school, in Biology, learning a mnemonic for a living thing. The word was REMRING. It featured all the factors needed for life. I still remember it today. Respiration, excretion, movement, reproduction, ingestion, nutrition and growth.  Movement is the factor I recognised the other day which was key to my walking project. Ok, it’s obvious now, so it seems a bit silly to have pointed it out, but if I am going to take anything from meeting Nixiwaka, it is a keenness to not judge (as often) and to share (more). The most exciting quote I could relate to whilst writing my MA critical paper was by Francesco Careri. It was about how, as humans we stood up and walked and what it meant to us in the world.

‘…walking takes on a symbolic form that has enabled man to dwell in the world. By modifying the sense of the space crossed, walking becomes man’s first aesthetic act, penetrating the territories of chaos, constructing an order on which to develop the architecture of situated objects. Walking is an art from whose loins spring the menhir, sculpture, architecture, landscape. This simple action has given rise to the most important relationships man has established with the land, the territory.’ Page 20. careri. F. (2009) Walkscapes GG:Spain

Realising that this was the key factor to my project I recognised why Arlette George and I had been introduced. She is a trained dancer and choreographer. Her mastery of movement using the human form will be crucial to us understanding the importance of getting people out there walking. Because using our body as an instrument to sense and experience the world and connect with nature is something that we may have to relearn. To reclaim our territory and to rediscover our sense of place in the communities, in which we live, will require getting out and walking amongst them. In exploring movement as dance and not just walking, I came across this website.

'The Planetary Dance is an annual all-day ritual of healing and community renewal. It brings people of all ages and abilities together in a beautiful setting to dance for a purpose.'

I see the land as needing us to appreciate it, to wonder at all of its resources and recognise our place within it. We are hugely lucky to be living at this time in this place. I believe we need to walk on the land and see its beauty and in connecting to nature in this way, we become part of its system again. The paths can be seen as a metaphor for the future health of the planet and ourselves. Our vascular and respiratory system will improve as we walk more regularly and the flow of people out in nature will allow a deeper understanding of our land.

Then I truly hope we can find our

'Peace in Place'.

(I completed my MA in September 2014 and recorded the last two months of it in another blog called www.thesaltwayfarer.blogspot.co.uk

Please feel free to look at that anytime, as it is from that, that I am where I am now.)

On Show

 

On Show

The first time I had a solo art exhibition, I felt that I had allowed a part of my soul to be on show. I was more nervous than I had felt on my wedding day. To show your art in a public place has to be an exercise in trust.

'I Dream', one of my artworks on display at the moment.

Therefore to be asked whether you do this for a hobby is a very hard question to reply to. I suppose that if I wanted to produce artwork that was guaranteed to sell in my home town of Whitstable, I would be creating images of beach huts, fishing boats and sunsets. These would then be bought as mementoes of peoples visits here, accessible and easy to live with. But I don’t feel any artistic urge to create these images. I create art from a deep place within me, I feel driven to respond to this urge by ‘doing art’.

Detail from 'Cathedral secrets'.

Art for me can be felt as a meditation. I understand that we all express ourselves in different ways, but for me, it is through creativity that I feel connected to the real world, not the world that is portrayed in the news, but the physical and emotional world around me. I wonder whether art is seen as a pleasurable activity that you don’t have to earn an income from, therefore, not real work but a hobby.

My Painted plank of wood, on show in the studio.

Personally I have yet to hear of any other professions that are so expected to give their time for free. As an artist I have been asked to run free workshops, give work for auctions etc. Yet, never have I seen a barrister, accountant or other professional asked to do the same. In fact, it is interesting to note that I have never been asked to do any work voluntarily as a designer. It would be unprofessional, at the very least to do so. Perhaps that is it, as long as artists are expected to do things for free and willing to do so, then they can expect the hobby reference. Art is all powerful and anyone can create art. Good art takes practice, lots of it, to master the skills required of observation, recognition, application etc. It will take a change of attitude to art in general for this to be appreciated. As long as we fall into the segregation of art either as hobby or big money art, such as Saatchi’s collection with work by Tracey Emin, Damien Hirst etc, then I believe artists may remain generally meek and willing to give their time and products, often one off artefacts for free. Either that or its revolution time!

Disquiet Beauty

I went to Rochester yesterday to see an exhibition in which a friend is exhibiting. The exhibition is called ‘Disquiet Beauty’ and it explores the ‘notions of beauty and alienation, attraction and repulsion and the otherworldly in their use of materials and form.’

Now I would be surprised if anyone suggested that these artists are doing this for a hobby, but I bet there is someone who will. The work is highly crafted and exquisite in its detail. Cormac McManigan, a college friend, had created jewellery pieces of bronze cast into the shape of Stag Beetles, there were works from Kate McGwire and Tessa Farmer there too.

 

 A Kate McQuire piece, made from many pigeon feathers lined up alongside eachother.

Tessa’s work I had seen before in Ashford, at the Stour Valley Arts gallery a year or two ago. I was fascinated by it then and in this exhibition she still has her intricate, tiny fairies flying on bumble bees and attacking wasps, but they also are seen grooming some of the Victorian curiosity exhibits from the nearby Guildhall Museum.

A drawer of moths from the Rochester Guildhall collection.

Kate McGwire has exhibited in the last year in Canterbury at the Beaney Museum. I was disappointed to have missed that, but very glad to see her work for real in this exhibition. She is a sculptor who uses bird feathers.

I loved this piece, by Kate McQuire, it reminded me of a horizon line, with dawn approaching.

She lays them out in a very fluid way, so that they look like they are moving en masse. The framed wall pieces are just beautiful, but it is a shame to have that wonderful iridescence of colour on the feather behind glass, but I expect that protects them, from light, dust and curious fingers too.

Framed feather formation by Kate McGuire.

The pigeon feathers that seem to powerfully rise out of the drain/soil pipe into the gallery is a great piece.

 

Kate's largest feather installation piece, in this exhibition.

I have seen this installation in photographic images in other settings. She must be extremely patient and have real artistic vision to reinstall her work in different areas. But it is the contrast that makes each piece so special and site specific. There is two other artists work on display, but I will leave their work a mystery for anyone reading this to discover for themselves. The exhibition is on until the 3^rd of January 2015 at Rochester Art Gallery and Craft Case.

Display

Rochester was a good place to visit over the half term; it was where I had spent my time at college for 4 years from 1987-1991 and more recently for another 2 years, working part-time on my MA.

 

Rochester Castle and wall silhouette, with sun setting.

Rochester has a castle and a cathedral, city walls and a great history. It was built on the main route through from Dover to London at an important crossing of the river Medway. It has the feel of a transitory place, people pass through; there are many gatehouses, avenues of trees and other significant thresholds and ways. The main Rochester Bridge that crosses the Medway from the London Road is beautifully decorative and has large metal reclining lions on it, similar to those at Trafalgar square and also some much smaller standing lions holding shields, high up among the metalwork.

The decorative detail on the bridge is quite something; I wonder whether such symbolic forms would be added to a new construction, I don’t remember seeing anything on the newer river crossing; the bridge carrying the M2. I recognise the form of both bridges, just as I recognise the silhouette of the castle keep and the castle walls but sometimes the detail gets overlooked with familiarity.

 

Setting sun, glowing through fallen leaves in the castle grounds.

That is why I appreciate visiting exhibitions and seeing work on display. It is a reminder to look again, ‘Disquiet Beauty’ certainly allowed me to do this. I had always been fascinated to see stag beetles, we often see them in our garden and they are a bit frightening when they ‘buzz you’. As Mac said in his TV interview they are prehistoric creatures and his beautiful bronze casts replicate that strangeness that is recognisable, almost familiar, but also very, very odd. 

Mac's stag bronze cast jewellery pieces: brooch and pendant.

 

We have been visiting other artists on the East Kent Open Houses trail. Last weekend we drove to Conyer to see Hugh Ribbans’ creek-side studio and wonderful work. He was allowing visitors to have a go at printing on his large press.

Having a go at printing using the magnificent press.

Similar to Rochester Bridge, it was ornate in its decoration. The metal had been cast, not just to do the job in hand, but it had fierce looking dolphins across its top, snake and arrow forms on its front panels and a curious looking gold coloured crescent moon holding a lever in place.

The 'Reveal', very exciting, a joy for all printmakers.

This was not a machine to be used by a man making art for a hobby, this press meant business. Hugh has, in the past used a steam roller to roll over his lino-cuts and create prints. This perhaps is the stuff of revolutions! Watch this space, and if you see me, please don’t mention the ‘h’ word.   

(I completed my MA in September 2014 and recorded the last two months of it in another blog called www.thesaltwayfarer.blogspot.co.uk

Please feel free to look at that anytime, as it is from that, that I am where I am now.)