Northtown in colour

I've finished cutting my latest woodcut, 'Northtown' and have pulled a few proofs.  I like it in black and white, but have also been experimenting with hand-tinting.  I'm reasonably happy with the result here but need to find a way to avoid streaks in the grey hills.  Printing this block is a challenge as its at the maximum length the press can cope with. Also there are many fine lines that can fill in easily so inking-up must be done very carefully.

March Leaves

Well putative leaves really, in a budding grove.  Today I've been enthralled by the exquisite tracery of the twigs against the dark river, the bright sky and as shadows on beech bark.

The hedge along Salem Field is even more depleted now as further drastic cutting has been done by the archery club. Feels like a set-back for my project to document the seasons in this tiny patch of land but I'll persevere for the time being and see what happens.

Woodcut Townscape - Northtown

Work in progress on another commission from Pennine Prospects, a woodcut of an archetypal northern town in the southern pennines - so, the town hall is based on Todmorden's, the co-op on Delph's, weavers cottages from Hebden Bridge, Saddleworth viaduct and so on.

Drawing up on the moor

There's nothing better for sorting the sheep from the goats or whatever that saying is, than a drawing trip up  Oxenhope Moor on a freezing March morning.  It might have been sunny but the wind seemed to come straight from Siberia as me and my friend Vikki got off our little local bus in the middle of nowhere high above Crimsworth Dean.

The solution -  hunkering down behind a dry-stone wall and working quickly for as long as the warming sun stayed out.  An opportunity to continue my obsession with the swirling moor grass, and for Vikki to show how its done with panache in her cheery red coat. Thats not a spelling mistake by the way - cherry red is an altogether different colour!

February leaves - the new and the old

Confusing I know, since its now March, but laser-cutting mania has prevented me from uploading anything new on another strand of work which involves documenting the natural growth cycle on a very small stretch of Hebden Water, alongside Salem Field.

Vile weather and various jobs kept me away from the river for a few weeks until the end of February so I was expecting a few changes, but not expecting to see that most of the shrubs and young trees I'd photographed and drawn in January had been chopped down!

I know its all been done with the best of intentions and in the name of tidying up the riverside walk by the archery field, but the amount of clearing seems a bit extreme.  Admittedly, the hedge laying looks well done and there will be loads of new growth very soon, but still it was a shock and I'm annoyed I never got to see the final demise of most of my old tortured leaves.

Not all the trees are gone of course, and its great to spot the first beginnings of Spring growth including tiny green leaves at last.

Tree House Book

Here's a couple more pictures of Tree House in progress. I really love the way the pages react to a raking light and can't resist trying to capture the effect on camera, although it always seems to be when its late and I'm tired, so not the best photos.

Folding the concertina is a bit tricky, as there's so much negative space in relation to the page 'frame'.
Maybe I should have made the borders wider... but actually I like the element of fragility and everything is fine so long as I don't get distracted whilst folding.

I haven't decided what to do about the cover yet - whether to have holes in it or not.

Tree House book is growing

Another session of laser-cutting at Huddersfield Uni yesterday.  Making the cutting template in Illustrator on Sunday night nearly drove me mad - all those branches - aagh.  The technician asked me if I suffered from OCD - cheek!

I was hoping to cut quite a few of these, but something was wrong with my file and the laser started recutting over already cut lines so I had to call it a day until I can sort my template.  I think I may have forgotten to flatten my layers in Illustrator, thus confusing the tiny mind of the mighty laser-cutter.  All very annoying because I now have to wait two weeks for another available booking.

More Laser-Cutting

I'm getting the hang of the laser-cutter now and had my first session using it on my own. As well as the Hebden Bridge fold-up townscape, I'm trying something more intricate - its a concertina format book called Tree House.  Its taking me quite some time to draw up the cutting template in Illustrator so I've only tested the first 4 pages.  It looks like this:

I like the idea of it being a kind of skeleton book structure and the resulting shadow casting. This book is a development from the paper-cut carrier bag I was working on a while ago.  I'm still using the 300 gsm Manila cover paper I got from John Purcell Paper ages ago, with its lovely colour and smooth surface.

AA2A and Laser-cutting

Last year I applied for a place on the AA2A Scheme at Huddersfield University.  For those that don't know, AA2A stands for Artists Access To Art Colleges, and the project provides placements for visual artists and designer makers to Higher and Further Education institutions across England to undertake a period of research or realise a project, using the workshops and supporting facilities available.
Here's a link to the website AA2A

This is a really great scheme to share resources with artists who don't have access to specialist equipment but a successful placement does depend on the goodwill and commitment of the art department involved.  I got accepted on the scheme in September last year but for reasons that have never been made clear, I wasn't allowed to make a start until this January.  Also some of the advertised facilities that lured me in, such as screenprinting, are not actually available!

It has been quite a frustrating experience up to recently but now I've decided to put all that behind me (hopefully) and concentrate on making the most of the amazing laser-cutter that is available for AA2As to use.  A couple of weeks ago myself and Beka Haigh another AA2A artist, had a very thorough induction from technician David Bentley with excellent, clear instructions.  So last Thursday Beka and I were able to do some autonomous cutting.  I was a little bit scared at first, being responsible for a very expensive piece of equipment with a white-hot cutting point, and lots of things that are easy to forget, like putting on the extractor so we weren't poisoned.   But its all very straightforward really.

Here's some pictures of my first attempts.  I'm revisiting a project I started a few years ago but gave up because the cutting put too much of a strain on the tendons in my hands.  The idea is of a pop-up paper Hebden Bridge sculpture that folds flat for portability.  You can see a black and white version over on the right, below my Profile.

If things work out well with the laser-cutter, I plan to make a more complex environment for the townscape and produce a saleable edition.

Shadows and Reflections

A different take on trees this time, shadows on sun-warmed rock and reflections on cold, still water. Even when seen indirectly like this the trees have a powerful presence in the landscape.

January Leaves

I'm noticing that despite harsh frosts and whipping winds, a few leaves are clinging on to their parent trees along the banks of Hebden Water. A far cry from the vigour of summer and the glory of Autumn these tortured survivors are a pierced and twisted remnant of last year. I've enjoyed observing them closely and taking their photographs.  They have an insectoid quality that I like and I imagine could lead to some interesting drawings. And of course they bring to mind Shakespeare's sonnet 73 with its lines...

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

More Graphite

Been spending some time down by my local river - Hebden Water, alongside Salem Field, making a series of drawings, playing around with different kinds of mark making.  The winter weed skeletons are complex and beautiful.  They held my attention for many an hour, as my drawings moved towards abstraction.  The mild Graphite Days have been replaced by diamond bright ice and sun, but the softer form of Carbon still suits my mood for now.

Graphite Days

These dim days of January could easily bring on a bout of melancholia and unrealistic longings for warmer climes.

But instead I've decided to adopt an attitude of acceptance and even celebration of what I call the Graphite Days of late Winter.

Whether focussing on my sketchbook or staring at the land, its the same muted silvery greys of a 2B pencil on soft white and pale buff papers.

Turning towards the light

And so the year turns, away from darkness, revolving into light, our blue planet tumbling through the mystery of time and space...

A patch of blue sky

Dazzlingly bright and sunny yesterday, and still able to see my lovely Nutclough Mill through the gap.

The long thin format of the view is growing ever more like my woodcut print of Nutclough though the view for the woodcut is from a high vantage point looking down from Moss Lane , whereas the view from Brooklyn studios is looking upwards.

What I like in the photograph is the glowing orange of the brick side wall complementing the cold blue sky.

Changing Light

Two views from my studio space taken on Friday with a gap of a few hours between shots.  The murky morning turned into a more pleasant if very cold afternoon.

Feeling a little bit sad that the view has been curtailed since then by the installation of our new studio stairs, but on the other hand I've gained a new wall to hang work on and there's still plenty of light coming in from the high window.

Fortunately I can still see Nutclough Mill from my space, I just have to move to a more specific spot to get the angle right.  For 14 years I had a view of Nutclough from the other side, from my rented house, actually one of the original mill workers dwellings.

During that time I took loads of photos of the mill from my kitchen window, in all kinds of weathers and at different times of the day.  I'd like to put together a selection for this blog, but will have to digitise them first as they were all taken on film.  A project for the new year I think.

Its strange how certain buildings seem to follow you around - even though they're totally anchored of course. When I moved from Nutclough City Limits (as we used to call it) I thought thats it I'll never gaze on the mill in the same way, but here I am a few years later still staring.