Getting somewhere practical

Field study no 1, 45x37cm
Soft Pastel on Japanese paper,

... with this post eventually. But first off a few thoughts on group dynamics (again).

I mentioned a few times before how my Saturday group has been changing from the exhibition last June onwards. This term, it is even more different. The group runs as an adult education class, so people register for it - and for the past few years, the group always consisted of about 8 people who had gone for a long time and about 4 new people who would change from term to term.

Not so this term: it's pretty much the other way round and it's intriguing to see how that changed the dynamics from an open group very much into something much more structured and tutored. We would turn up some time after 10 am and usually Tom, Irene and myself are the last to leave at about half one. I tended to be one of the early ones there, just at the back of ten.

Yesterday I turned up at 10.08 am and I was the last one. That has consequences: the room is generally cramped; with poor lighting, there are about four places close to the windows and the sinks - I would always try to get easy access to the sinks because of the water-based, frequent handwashing mix-fest that much of my work is.

But: there has never been a space close to the window. Bummer. So, it's somewhere in the middle of the room, taking up some of the flexible and improvised corridors that form throughout the morning.

So, in the middle of the room, it was busy - so many people, so many projects, so much busieness. I could feel myself getting all worked up within five minutes. Oh dear, - it often takes me some time beforehand to figure out what I'd like to do. And it was all clear: I wanted to do pastel drawings of some new scenes. But instead I was quickly developing hectic spots all over my face, crunching up my forehead and breathing far too fast.

And then I remembered: I packed up my sketchbooks, took my box of pastels and some pens and left. Went out to the corridor with a great view across the West end and sat on the floor.

So: their projects aren't mine, their worries over how to mix that paint weren't mine, either; instead I wrote pages upon pages with the ideas kicking around in my head. Very good ideas, but they need to get out of my head. So, they went onto paper.

But where do they go? I've begun to use an A4 wire-bound sketchbook to record ideas, work out prices, and collect stuff. - All done verbally, in text.



Immediate and urgent plan:

To move my writing into something more visual. Work out my ideas more in sketch/drawing/visual form.

This means I need to rearrange my sketchbook scenario again: not so long ago I decided to just work in one at a time - the large-sized Sketchbook Moleskine. I like the smooth paper and the format. Yet: it's is just not large enough for my ideas - so I find it easier to write them out rather than to try them out [and I know that some of you will say: yes, we told you so ;)]

Thus: a sketchbook order is called for: Katherine has a good post [here] with lots of comments on what sketchbooks, and I took note:

I want a smooth, perferably Hot Press, relatively heavy paper - for dry media but the occasionally oil/gouache/acrylics; it needs to lie flat when open (but hardbound so that I can easily work across the pages) and it needs to be LARGE.

In addition, I want a smaller one [A4 or square?], wire-bound with similar paper to carry with me - for bigger sketches and experiments when outside.

People also mentioned cutting, redrawing or pasting work from the portable sketchbooks into the main one. Sounds good to me. Will try that.

I think I will order a couple of books from Green and Stone, and try them out.

As for the painting class, I eventually did some pastel skecthes, as you can see at the start of this post There's a crit & comment to follow soon, along with some further ideas for where this may go.

Travelog

Lindsay's Maps and Destination Moley
36x14cm, Pen, ink and neo ii

The most recent moley I had from the exchange had gone travelling with me to London, Berlin and back to Glasgow. I like the idea of figuring out what to do next in each moley a lot: it's storytelling as process, and it's interesting to see how different each of us deals with the storytelling.

So: mine was action drawing... hahaha... on 9x14cm with a pen... no paint dribbles in sight.

Have a look - out of the window on the 9:39 am Glasgow - London Euston for 20 mins or so; a tube ride from Mile End to Victoria, until someone sat next to me and obscured the view; after breakfast in my friends' living room in Berlin when they had gone for work; and yet another airport queue in Schoenefeldt while the passport control was slow as usual. I coloured in when back home.

Lindsay's Maps and Destination Moley
9x14cm, Pen, ink and neo ii


Lindsay's Maps and Destination Moley
9x14cm, Pen, ink and neo ii


Lindsay's Maps and Destination Moley
9x14cm, Pen, ink and neo ii


Lindsay's Maps and Destination Moley
9x14cm, Pen, ink and neo ii

A throw of the dice for Dora Maar

While in Berlin I indeed - again - did not make it to the Bruecke Museum. But: I made it here:

The Klee Universe at the Neue Nationalgallerie

After the exhibition - which indeed was a universe (250+ paintings on which more later) - I had a coffee in the cafe. Sat there and marvelled at the vibrancy of the German educated middle classes on a November Tuesday early afternoon, and at the successes of the tourism industry in metropolitan Berlin... 12 Euros for the ticket, the 5 Euros for the audio guide I refused. But: I didn't have to pay for the cloakroom (!); yet on that count had a bit of a run in with one of the doormen who refused my bag entrance. Even my arguments that I saw plenty of bigger bags in the exhibition didn't count (probably because those bags were several hundred Euros dearer than mine).

So, while I sat there and watched, I noticed the posters on the wall. Looked up and saw Dora with her green fingernails watching the ongoings too. How cool. What a surprise. She was advertising the exhibition at Museum Berggruen that M. and I had visited in July. I hadn't even noticed that she was on the poster before.

Na, anyways, I eat a bit more of my quiche and keep watching. And then I notice another exhibition advert: Un coup de dès - writing turned image - an exhibition in Vienna.

A throw of the dice for Dora Maar. I wonder what she'd made of the ever-presence of chance. On that wall, amongst a few exhibition posters.

Un coup de dès pour Dora Maar
Pen and neo ii on Moleskine
24x21cm

Dora Maar with green fingernails

Pablo Picasso, Dora Maar with Green Fingernails
Oil on Canvas, 1936
Museum Berrgruen, Berlin

She looks at you from the wall at the Museum Berggruen in Berlin Charlottenburg. No - not really. She doesn't look at you.

She simply looks. Observes. All around her, her eyes surveying not one direction but several at once.

She was a woman who always saw a lot - so says the commentary.

For most of Picasso's distortion of female figures I do not care all that much. In particular the double noses (as in smelling a lot???) are weird.

But Dora with green fingernails... I like her, like how her eyelid becomes part of the outline of her face. How it emphasises her eyes, beautiful eyes, matched with eyeshadow and bright green nail varnishes. How 1980s in the 1930s.

She made it into my sketchbook, next to Paul Klee's Die Zeit. With that she's only one of two of Picasso's women - alongside the wonderful melancholic Woman with a Chignon I met in Harvard.
And funnily enough - the sketch is just of her face, so when I tried to look for the painting again I got struck by that starched, stiff and downright scary dress she's wearing. Maybe that says even more than her all observing eyes?

Sketch of Dora Maar with green fingernails by Pablo Picasso
Pencil and neo ii in Moleskine, 14x21cm

And I think it's time now that Dora made it out of the sketchbook and into print - the figure tasks for the monotype projects are the difficult ones; so I'm circling around them, thinking one up, trying a bit, dismissing it again. But I think I'll stick with Dora, not sure how yet, but that'll be freestyle no 3, I think.

They wrestle with snakes

... not ordinary snakes, no: pythons. I saw them. Not all of them do, but some. I am sure of that.

The certainty came to me on a lunch break last week in London's West End. Lunch at the Victoria & Albert Museum opened my eyes. To Frederic Lord Leighton's Athlete Struggling with a Python.

Sketches of Leighton's 'Athlete struggling with Python'
Bronze, 1877, V&A

So manly, so strong, so determined. Do you see his stare, the muscles on his arms, the strong legs? All enframed by the glittering body of the snake, so smooth, so strong. And still: held at arm's length, they struggle, they stare. Who wins? Because a victory it has to be! The athlete, the snake?

Studies in pencil

So, I went back with the sketchbook, after having watched more wrestling with snakes over the ensuing days. I sketched and giggled. Pictured those academics as snake wrestlers. And giggled some more.

But they do. They wrestle with snakes. At least some of them do.

Conferences, hey.... festivals, road crashes, snake fights... can't help but watch, or participate even? Now, how did it happen that it suddenly looks as if I may be going to Las Vegas next spring after all? I knew there was a problem with watching too closely...

Things I cannot do

... sounds like the awesome new title for a series of posts - possibly even better than 'Paintings I like'.

While there is plenty I cannot do, the thing that kept bugging me for the past fortnight was - you probably guess right - a field. The field I see from my bedroom, next to garden. It's a corn field. Almost ready to be harvested, the corn sways in the wind, it's silver, purple, orange and green. Above all, it's bulky - well, 2 metres tall or so.

So, it is definitely not a meadow nor is it a grain field; a potato or sugar beet field it is neither. Yet - and here's the irritating bit: I am, for the life of me, not getting it to look like more than a grain field at best, most of the times it's looking like a flat meadow. And it's not that I haven't tried: plenty of sketches at any time of day, with or without sunshine, with or without wind or rain.

I am just not getting it. It's the bulkieness (?) that evades me - so, the field keeps teasing me, C'mon, Gesa, gie's another try.... I oblige, and then it becomes yet another meadow. Mind you, I do like my colour studies of it, so I get a sense about the difference of full sun at noon, or late afternoon, but: no chance for a corn field.

Corn fields at noon x2, soft pastel in Moleskine


Corn fields late afternoon x2, soft pastel in Moleskine

So, a plea to all the pastelists - because I think it's a technique with the medium that I cannot do: how does the field turn bulky, tall and swaying in the wind? The last attempt involved some ink, possibly not enough: I figure it's something to do with the strokes on the paper, maybe they need to be more systematic or so, so I tried some dark ink before I applied pastel, but it's not happening.

Cornfields or not, Ink and soft pastel in Moleskine, 26x21cm
[also obliging my Mum to do sth in orange]

Anyone any ideas?
So that I can come up with yet another series of 'The things I've learnt today'

Thank you!

Composition clichees, Take Two

Ok, ok... after having uploaded yesterday's creation I saw it too: while eager to avoid one clichee - a path leading youse viewers into the painting - I firmly, and head first (as per usual), fell victim to another one: a stupid, trite and really corny framing of the view by a canopee of trees. Well, my excuse was that it REALLY, REALLY looks like that - and is it my fault if the world operates with clichees???

Where's the shade #2, study
Pen and ink in Moleskine, 26x21cm


Where's the shade #2, shadow shapes
Pen and ink in Moleskine 13x21cm

Na, in any case. This morning attempt no 2: keep the shadows, kind of lose the path and the leafy frame. A couple of studies were done to help me and then I proceeded on a slightly bigger board. This time a darkish blue meant that the world looked considerably more muted. There's more foreground, a bit (tiny, tiny) of the path and the shadow shapes. There is nothing to the right hand side other than a bit of emptiness.

Where's the shade #2
Soft pastel on board, 34x24cm

And all along I am beginning to long for something bigger and most importantly more abstract. All these studies are nice, worthwhile if not worthy, and good fun, but: they are really needing to turn into something else other than a place in time. And with the sketchbook and some plein air sketching I am definitely not getting there.

I want some glue, some paper, some acrylics, some ink to spatter generously across something large... Studio space is what my heart tells me... it'll have to wait a few more weeks to be back home, but it's beginning to feel like something to look forward to. Well, in the meantime: there'll be some more fields...

Oh... and another thought: OIL PAINTS... the smell of oils, turps and the headiness that comes with a studio full of cheap turps... hach, soon....

With all these questions

... there's a bit of searching going on. - As Vivien rightly says in her comment to yesterday's post... so: do it.

Well... The post got sparked off (quite literally) but the most fabulous glow in the sky I had seen in a long time. A thunderstorm at around sunset turned the sky into that iridescent grey yellow which in turn reflected throughout the garden and coloured everything green into a kind of glowy red/orange.

No chance for a photo of it, though I tried as you can see. I think my amateur photography skills were no match for it.

So I sketched. Attempt #1 yesterday didn't get the sky. But it got something of the heavy rain shower making the trees fade in the distance.

Thunder at Sunset #1
Soft pastel in Moleskine

But, again, I'm kind stuck with the texture of the sketchbook. It refuses to take more than 2 (max 3) layers of my soft pastels. Then I remembered Brian's explanation (scroll down Vivien's post to read his comment) of how he made the beautiful British Columbia landscapes in his sketchbook for the exchange. So I followed the instructions: one layer, rubbed in well with some paper, another layer, rubbed in, etc. And to use fixative (well, my mum's hairspray in this case) in between. And: hey ho... darker than before, more transparent then before and all in all enough to keep me happy.

Soft pastel in Moleskine
Layering, rubbing and more of the same
Yellow, lime green, pale purple and neutral grey in various combinations

So, here's a bit of experimentation from today:
Note 1 - the transparency of the rubbed in layers
Note 2 - the depth of the dark pastels overlayed

Thunder at Sunset #2
Soft pastel in Moleskine


More Skyline
Soft pastel in Moleskine

So, all in all not a bad day... and that's been on the painting front alone.

The Lock

A lock, somewhere on Berlin's Landwehrkanal

The Lock, Pencil and neo ii in Moleskine, 13x21cm

Rise rise
Gushing water
Whirls. Gurgles. Gurns
We float
Upwards
Breathing in
Deeply
The Lock

Moley #5

... or #6? With being away, I haven't kept track of the consecutive numbering. In any case. The Eigg/Berlin travelog is pretty full. A few pages remain unused but it doesn't feel right to fill them now with having already left again. So, here's to a new one. Ordered it on Saturday, it arrived on Tuesday and now it's in full swing already.

It's just a year ago that I took up the sketchbook for everyday habit. And filling one within the space of two weeks is a new record for me. When I decided to use a sketchbook frequently I felt at loss at what to put in it - it's an important one, that one, don't you think so? It's similar to starting drawing/painting in general: where to find stuff to paint, draw, sketch in a world so full of stuff? It was similar with the sketchbook. And it's such a nice thing once everthing dull thing in this world seems worth a quick sketch.

I was keen on doing some abstract things, but sketchbooks just seemed for pretty illustration, and thus not for me. To counter that, I had planned to do some themed sketchbooks: one for a thorough investigation into different colours - or really: pigments; one to learn more about textures and mark-makings and one for travel. Somehow, only the latter got filled beyond the initial first pages; then I filled the textures one with everything, and now the one titled 'Colours' on its spine is really Eigg/Berlin July 2008.

Lesson no 1 to self: Have one sketchbook to take whereever and to do in it whatever. The media I've used expanded: from pencil/graphite/neo iis, they now also feature pastels, acrylics, oils and increasingly pen and ink; there's also plenty of notes on exhibitions, quick copy sketches of paintings/sculptures I like; a bit of general chit chat and my little attempts at word plays for seabirds, clouds etc.

Pencil and neo ii sketch in Moleskine, 13x21cm of
Great Kalao Bird, Wooden Sculpture
Museum Berggruen, Berlin

As a way of inspiring my sketchbook use I pre-treated plenty pages: with watercolour washes, and more often acrylics. Hm. That was such a bad decision. It really annoyed me throughout this last book: what on earth do I do with waves of raw umber when I want to sketch a Berlin skyline. Sorry. That was such a bad move. There were one or two lucky ones: e.g. lemon yellow underpaintings usually work with plenty of stuff. But grass green, and certainly a dark umber are completely different and most often did not work.

Lesson no 2 to self: don't do waves, splashes or anything in earth colours and green in any future sketchbook. EVER! A bit of lemon yellow is ok, maybe a pale grey/blue wash too. And if it doesn't fit, don't pretend it's not there, skip that page and go back to it. It does not look good, Gesa, seriously!

Just have a look here: yellow ochre's the culprit

Clouds over Rum, ink and neo ii in Moleskine, 26x21cm

"The drawing that is fast,...

... direct and right at first time with an economy of effort or line, is either beginner's luck (and no less a blessing) or, more likely, achieved as a result of the accumulated legwork that has already been put in over the years. Rather than a sudden flash of inspiration, it is a release of controlled energy that crackles with its own spontaneous life.
The knowledge of drawing packed solidly behind it, so a line conveys simultaneously form, weight and authority.

Another morning coffee, pen and ink in Moleskine, 13x21cm

The speedy slick line is only that: all shallow effect, no form, no substance - a fast lick of Brylcreem on a very thin thatch.
Drawing is unquestionably difficult, clumsy at times, sometimes longwinded and slow. It will show every thought, every change of mind, every unsure probe and rethink."
(Pamela Kay, A personal view: Gouache, p. 47)

Ohne M, pen and ink in Moleskine, 13x21cm

I had taken Pamela Kay's fantastic book about gouache with me to Eigg - along with the gouaches themselves, which I ended up not using at all. But I managed to read quite a bit in her book. In particular her chapter on drawing was fascinating, and the above quote stuck.
Part of my previous hesitation about using ink was that I felt it to be too solid, too definite. The searching for lines, patterns and marks seemed so restricted. On the other hand are the minimal lessenings I've been doing for a while: short, sparse, definite hints at something, with the something usually being landscapes.
Her quote is, I feel, about both these issues. And about much more. Towards the end of the week on the island I had firmly gotten to like the ink pen: its strong marks which would still remain searching and open.
So my sketches in metropolitan and summery Berlin continue along the same lines (sorry!), and yet are so different from only a week ago. Places and people, I suppose.

Island time

Across the pier, Ink and neo ii in Moleskine, 26x21cm

Island time
It embraces you
Engulfs you like the tide
It's ferry time
Neep and spring
Circular not linear
You sink into it

Island time
All around you
It warms your body. Your heart. Your soul
It's all there is

And off into the horizon again

... not westwards as this view towards Barra but to the East today.

Trawler and Barra, Ink and neo ii in Moleskine (21x13cm)

I'll leave you to my blog's autopilot for a wee while. I'm curious how that will work. I am very much a 'write post and post it now' person. While I had initially prepared many draft posts, I found I never really went back to most of them - despite having promised tutorials on clouds gazing etc. So, when Blogger introduced the auto-post for future dates function I pretty much ignored it. Somehow I do like the idea of writing something to store for future publication. But my liking of that is pretty much abstract and remained abstract rather than practical. So, I'm curiously watching from afar as Blogger will be spouting out a few prepared post. And don't get cross if I don't reply to the posted comments immediately - but I'm never too quick with that one anyway.

See you soon.

A look out of the window last week

... while making tea was like this: every morning, afternoon and evening. The distance depending on the cloud base, rain and general fog.

Amazing what you can find in this, if you stretch your eyes, mind and general outlook.

So, here's the teaser for the recent entry in our Moleskine project. It's posted off today to Vivien, so I may show the rest in a short while. This one's been good fun.

Well... realising that among the two hundred photos I took, there is not a single one from the view I painted most over the past week, here's a sketch... a sunny one:

The most magnificient drama, Ink and neo ii in Moleskine (26x13cm)

And another one in pastel, sunny again. Same spot, different drama in the skies:

While making Tea, Pastel in Moleskine (21x13cm)

Seabirds...

Seabirds swim
Ink and Neo ii in Moleskine (26x21 cm)

They swim. They fly
On the waves
When they break
All turquoise and white
They flap their wings
A few seconds long
Then they swim
Again
Floating
Towards
The shoreline.

Head in the clouds

... or rather hillslopes in clouds.

Lessenings 10_2 (Past Arrochar),
Graphite and pencil in Moleskine, 21x13cm

The image doesn't quite fit, though, but you've certainly noticed that I'm barely here, there or elsewhere. Once the exhibition was running, work bit back with a vengeance and I've been running around trying to finish things up before the magical Friday 11 July when I will be away from Glasgow for a good number of weeks. Holidays and work away from the office are terribly good things to look forward to, but more importantly to have them actually happening.

In the meantime, I have been doing some more sketching while travelling. There is something extraordinarily soothing about it: the necessity to simplify - by virtue of movement - to just a couple of lines and marks. It's about marks and composition, like these two done last weekend on the coach from Glasgow to Inveraray for a Saturday outing with fish and chips at the harbour, a bit of walking through wet summer meadows amongst sheep and cows, a bit of boatwatching and a bit of pub grub and cider in the afternoon.

So, while I've got my head in the clouds or elsewhere, please bear with me. If not here, then elsewhere.

Lessenings 10_1 (Across Loch Long),
Graphite and pencil in Moleskine, 21x13cm

In the post... this time:

David's Moley and his Tango dancers

David's Moley from our Moleskine Exchange. His theme of Dancing is the one I'm slightly worried about: it clearly shouts: Gesa, draw figures! at me. And not just any old figures, but people dancing.
Hm, well... maybe it doesn't. I need to think about this for a while. David's Tango dancers in oil pastels are an excellent start, so I could digress to: oil pastels, blue, Spain, Flamenco, castagnettes, sound... I'm sure I'll find some more associations.

BTW: to my Flamenco-dancing friends: how about some pics from your last show? And I could go into Portraiture commissioning. Or maybe not, I don't think anyone would pay me for that. LOL.

Sketchbook (re)formatting

Graphite in Moleskine, 13x11cm

Our Moleskine exchange is firmly on its way, and I'm looking forward to getting the first one sent from David (David: have you started yet??). The sketchbooks we're all working in is the small pocket size Concertina one: it folds out to a glorious, continuous 2.70m (if my maths up to speed). That's far longer than any of my Found Paper Books, which just come up to 45cm; but there is something wonderful about a format that is so much wider than higher. It just doesn't seem to end. And with its folds, the next (or indeed previous) pages can be hidden, as if they didn't exist. Oh, so much fun on empty pages.

I had bought a small pocket size plain Moley in my attempt to sketch anywhere. So, I've been carrying it round with me and do indeed use it once in a while. But, it's awfy small, really. It's a one person per page kind of scenario. And while it lends itself well to some minimalist lines, it is just tiny.

Graphite in Moleskine, 13x18cm

So: Plan B is already in Amazon's basket: a couple more Moley concertina books, same external dimensions, they will soon be like the Tardis: so much bigger inside than anyone would guess by looking at the inconspicous exterior.

Moleskining - internationally and exchangingly

I've acquired not only a new Moleskine but also a new project. And not only that: a group project.
Yellow Steph had been bitten by the Moleskine exchange bug and so eight of us have now purchased a small concertina moleskine each which will be posted around the world. Well, not quite aroound the world but back and forth between the UK and the US; with each of us filling each book as we receive it with a few more pages. Eventually, each books ends up back with the original owner - filled with drawings, sketches, little paintings done by everyone else.

It sounds like excellent fun. I have gotten to really like the ideas of artist books, shared projects and the dynamics that brings with it. So, this is an excellent way of taking that further. Many, many thanks to Steph for organising and everyone else for being similarly excited.

We have set up a blog for the project at http://moleskineexchange.blogspot.com/ to chart, discuss and illustrate the travels of each of the books, so pop by to see what's going on. The blog also gives you the list of everyone involved, some nice maps and, also importantly: the themes each one is giving to their books.

I'd like to write a bit more about it, but it's late just now.

But have a link to the Flickr Moley_x group for some more background...

Retrofitting

... my sparse graphite in Moleskine sketches (and assorted others) to a new life as Flickr set and group identity.

Somewhere near Stranraer, Lessenings 7_5,
Graphite in Moleskine, 21x14cm

It was yellow Steph whose comment on one of my graphite redux got me thinking. So, I hunted in my various (not very well organised) online folders for various sketches - mostly landscapes, virtually all graphite or pencil, though I included a few watercolours, ink and neopastels. I called them lessenings - as lesser and lessons.... very clever, huh?! And here's a wee taster.

In fact, yesterday was warm and sunny and I went to the park with my sketchbook. I kind of figured it would be one of the last opportunities to sketch some bare trees before the leaves get going properly. So, while I did the below (amongst worse others), I realised that my summer park sketching would be: PEOPLE. They were everywhere, doing all sorts of things - and, better than at airports, they were chilled, relaxed and happy - makes an easier subject; which is all the better seeing that I'm not good at this. But I do have a while to work myself up for that task - and keep looking at other people's people sketches - such as Lindsay's or Mithi's. Or maybe that will just keep me from doing some of my own??

Victoria Park, Just - aka Lessenings 9_1
Graphite in Moleskine, 21x14cm