Cloud Atlas

Its strange that I mentioned clouds in my last post, and then the effects of one should cause so much disruption and media frenzy in the past couple of weeks.  I was on holiday in Cornwall when the flying ban was in place and I have to say it was wonderful to see the beautiful blue sky without any vapour trails.

I feel sorry about all the negative repercussions, like transplant organs being delayed and African farm workers being laid off, but  there's something to be said for being reminded that we are far from omnipotent and lack the means to control the natural forces of our planet.

All this cloud interest reminded me of a book I made early in 2009 but hid away because it didn't turn out how I imagined it would.  As you can see, the book is a kind of cloud atlas.

I'd been reading David Mitchell's novel Cloud Atlas and also studying The Cloudspotter's Guide by Gavin Pretor-Pinney and contemplating the wonderful variety of clouds that drift over the moors of Calderdale where I live.  During that same period I had to reorganise my studio and was wondering what to do with a stack of air mail envelopes I bought from a closing down Stationers, a pile of old security envelopes and an elderly UK road atlas...

Living in an upland region, you really notice how the clouds come swooping down the valleys and their huge dark shadows move across the hillsides in stately progression. I wanted to make my paper clouds 3D in some way, so that they cast shadows within the book.

Although I did achieve this to a certain extent, it took me ages and the shadow-casting wasn't as evident as I'd hoped and doesn't show up at all in these useless photos!  The plan was to remake the book after more concentrated study in paper engineering, but mostly I forgot all about it.  Maybe one day...  But in the meantime, revisiting my little cloud atlas I like it more than I did before.

Blackbird's Beautiful Song

Thank goodness for the cheerful blackbird whose early morning song has lifted my heart  these last few days whilst I've been stuck in bed ill.  

The enforced rest provided an opportunity to read David Mitchell's novel 'Cloud Atlas' again. I still think its a fine piece of work, the characters and created worlds resonating for a long time afterwards.

Draper Road viewed from Old Town

At last I've found time to complete this oil pastel painting of Draper Road descending down from Slack, as seen from across the valley at Old Town.

I see this view frequently as its on the route I take for my constitutional walk whenever I feel in the mood.  Obviously, things haven't looked quite like this for many many months, but unless its extremely foggy, you can always catch a glimpse of Draper Road glinting through the trees.

Sometimes in Winter its a silver curlicue in a world of black and grey, but the best way to experience Draper Road is on a hot day in late Spring, flying down the hill on a bike.  The corner dropping into the trees is quite tricky and a bit scary if you're going too fast, but once past there its an intense freewheeling descent under the dappled canopy through invisible waves of
bluebell and leafmold.  The same journey in reverse however, is a horror of sweat and toil too ghastly to dwell on ...

Sweet Birds Sing

Finally finished the bird book, my first using the flag structure invented by Hedi Kyle.
Its called 'Sweet Birds Sing' and is a celebration of small birds and an expression of sadness at the loss of trees.

The whole thing is printed from woodcut blocks apart from the text, a little song I've written, which is inkjet printed over the woodcut printed pattern. 

The cover has the same leaf pattern as the end papers, but printed in black rather than grey/green, and the closure is a length of bright green petersham ribbon.

On the whole I'm quite pleased with the way its turned out - its mostly as I envisioned it before starting and I like the way the birds poke out as a little flock.  I feel I've learned a lot and would like to make another flag book that makes even richer use of the flag structure's potential.

It would be great to make an edition of Sweet Birds Sing, but it took so long with all the hand printing, I can't see how it would be feasible to make copies that anyone could afford.

The Bird Book is hatching

I'm still working on my bird book.  I've just completed gouging a pattern of willow leaves onto a wooden block for making the paper that will become the front and back covers.  It was quite time-consuming and hard work, clearing all the wood in the spaces between the leaves.  I can't wait to try printing from this block.  To begin with I will print it in black ink on leaf green paper.

The birds are coming along too.  I'm using a print and collage process, printing onto many different coloured papers and then collaging different areas to gain a multi coloured effect.
I was first alerted to this way of working by an article on the illustrator Hannah Firmin and a wonderful image of ornate Bali slippers.  If you have recently read any of Alexander McCall Smith's 'The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency' novels you will have seen Hannah's work on the covers.  I love both printmaking and collage but found it difficult to cut up my prints to begin with, possibly because I was trained in a strictly purist ethos.  But who makes up these rules? and why do we feel constrained to obey them?

Woodcut birds

I'm trying to make a series of woodcut prints of birds that live in the Calder valley.  If things work out the plan is to make a little book with an unusual structure.  A flag book is a variation on the concertina book and can give a kind of 3D effect.  I'm making slow progress as things keep going a bit wrong, sigh.

I've written a simple poem/song about birds and trees and I need to find a way to incorporate this text into the flag book form.  Anyway I'm making proof prints of the individual birds and experimenting with colours and papers. The bird here is a lady Siskin, not quite right yet but I'm getting there.  She's printed on a yellowing page from my ancient paper-back copy of art critic Bernard Berenson's  'The Italian Painters Of The Renaissance'. 

That book had a big influence on me when I was studying art history  many years ago. I don't think I realised then how long ago it had been written or that Berenson was a 'reactionary conservative who used his influence to discredit twentieth-century art and to preserve the notion of culture as aristocratic privilege', as I saw him described recently.  What I got out of reading him was the sense of a whole new world of colour, light and meaning welling up from the past, for which I will always be grateful. I certainly didn't feel shut out because I started life in a council house.

Another Woodcut Printmaking Course

By popular request I'm running another woodcut course at Brooklyn Studios on Sunday 21st March 2010 from 10 am to 4 pm. This is an intensive one-day course for both complete beginners and those with previous experience.

We'll be using A4 size Japanese plywood and Swiss made cutting tools to produce the printing blocks.  The trusty old A3+ relief printing press will be on active service again and participants will leave with a set of prints in both black and white and colour.

The course fee is £50 for the day including all materials and light refreshments.  A £25 deposit will secure a place on the course.  For more information or to book call in at the studios,  email me on angie.rogers(at)talk21.com, or text/phone on 0788 4307546

More on powdered charcoal

This is what Cretacolour charcoal looks like straight from the jar, a lovely velvety black that makes marvellous splat marks when dropped from height.

Powdered Charcoal

This morning I was in Bradford again, doing a demonstration and workshop for members of The Living Well Art Club.  We looked at two contrasting techniques:  sgraffito  with oil pastel on acrylic paint, and powdered charcoal applied with rag.

Its a shame that oil pastel isn't more popular as it is so direct and easily transported for outside use for example . But most people's initial experience of this versatile medium seems to be negative.  Usually its because they are using horrible 'budget' pastels that are all grease and no pigment, in sets with harsh colours and no subtlety - no wonder people hate them.  Much better to choose 4 or 5 individual, good-quality sticks in sympathetic hues.  I use Sennelier oil pastels which are very buttery. It took me a while to get used to the soft texture but was worth it for the high concentration of pigment and wide choice of colours.

The charcoal powder is wonderful, you can quickly lay on intense dark tones over large areas or drag extremely light veils of the palest grey.  Unlike my own home made powder which tends to be gritty, the Cretacolour charcoal from suppliers Great Art is extremely finely ground and moves around the paper like black mist. So far I've only used it dry but I'm looking forward to experimenting with water and other solvents.

Drawing in the sleet

Since mid January I've been working for one day a week in a primary school in central Bradford. Its a Creative Partnerships project and I'm one of the artists involved over the next couple of months. The children I work with are 9 and 10 and full of energy and fun. We are looking at aspects of identity and local environment.

Last week the plan was to make drawings of the outside of the school building, an old Victorian Board School with later additions. Travelling in on a foul morning I felt sure things would be cancelled, especially as the school is sited on an exposed and windswept hill. But no, we went ahead despite the developing sleet and freezing cold. The children were so brave and the novelty of drawing outside seemed to outweigh the physical discomforts.

This is the view for the observed drawings

And this is the children's side of things.

Sadly, I'm not allowed show their delightful faces, but if I was, you'd see cheerful grins. There is actually a roof structure over the children so its not as cruel as it might look and the paper did stay dry enough to make some interesting and detailed drawings.

Each small group of children had about 20 minutes max to complete their work, so didn't get too cold.  I on the other hand, was out there all morning and afternoon.  Thats when you fully appreciate the properties of thermal underwear, combined with multiple layers of wool.

More Woodcuts

All round good person Geoff Mitchell has kindly sent me a load of photos he took of the woodcut course on Sunday so here's a selection of the ones that best represent what we did.

Woodcut Course

The two woodcut courses over the weekend were a tremendous success with everyone producing excellent work, even the complete beginners. I'm always amazed by how inventive and resourceful people can be when learning something new, and such a variety of responses.

It was a great pleasure to meet interesting new people and to spend time with old friends.  The studio was filled with a wonderful atmosphere of concentration and purpose.  Cutting the wood is quite hard work physically and many decisions have to be made about positive and negative areas in the image but everyone  seemed to enjoy that part of the process and then the magic of seeing the print finally revealed!  You never really know how its going to turn out and thats the continuing fascination of printmaking.

And after everyone had gone home all I wanted to do was start making a new print myself...

Here are some of the learners and their lovely prints.

Rowena

Jaffa

Alison

All Ready

Thats it, I'm all set now for delivering my Woodcut Printmaking course at Brooklyn Studios tomorrow and Sunday.  Everything's prepared and the new portable catalytic gas fires arrived in the nick of time to ensure a burst of heat in the studio.

I'm really looking forward to the next two days, seeing what everyone does with their piece of wood.  Woodcut is such a beautifully simple process but the results are often stunning.

Here are some of my tools - new ones made in Switzerland by Pfeil bought especially for the course and some of my tatty old favourites that I've had for years and years.

Back to black, grey and brown

Although its a relief the ice has gone and moving around requires a lot less concentration, the element of snow I miss most, apart from the obvious beauty, is the way it bounces light around, even in the shady places.  Suddenly everything seems surprisingly dim, especially in this misty drizzle we have here in the South Pennine hills.  Still, the trees never let you down, always some new angle to admire or familiar aspect to reconsider...

I love drawing on manila envelopes, something about the colour, texture and format. The trees are done with a reed pen I made from reeds gathered on the Vilaine estuary in South Brittany.

I suppose it would be even more appropriate to use a 'pen' made from a twig off the trees depicted - thats something to think about for later.

Spellbound

The night is darkening round me,

The wild winds coldly blow;

But a tyrant spell has bound me,

And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending

Their bare boughs weighed with snow;

The storm is fast descending,

And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,

Wastes beyond wastes below;

But nothing drear can move me:

I will not, cannot go.

Emily Bronte

Happy New Decade

A Happy New Year to all and a special welcome to Barney who was born yesterday on the cusp  of the old and new year.

Hebden Bridge and the South Pennines are still under the spell of the snow queen, just as they were at this time last year.

On new years day 2009 the wonderful winter umbellifers were coated in silvery iron filings of hoar frost, but this time they are sporting snow pom poms.

2010

2009