introducing three new small works on wood panel, entitled (out of the) wood/shed I, II and III...
for a little intrigue & mystery i thought i would covertly spy on my own art...
trying to get a closer look at the intricate works of green... what are they and how is it done?
well, from wood to pulp to paper to pulp to wood, with an etching tool, some oil pigment and a little linseed oil... there is something of the aesthetic of decay about them but we might also call them modern abstract paintings for now... it seems that all of my drawing in the woods influenced the making of these works, albeit in a less than conventional way...
[tree bark, sketchbook, drawing in the woods, september 2009]this is an experiential walk into the woods (i don't recall much of the sky)... i went into the woods to escape and be immersed... it is really about life within life, small, transient, fleeting, the slowness of process, a quiet reminder of the nature of things... and it seemed natural to work with just wood and paper...
i am just looking at the edges (again, an obsession of mine)... and wondering if the sides should be painted white to contrast with the dark wood wall (on which they will be hung)... or perhaps matt black? or the deepest, darkest green? (but no tarnished gold this time)...
it's a many green textured and decaying thing (again)... green can be a difficult colour to work with but i rather like it as it signifies life, change and constant renewal... i hope to make art that expresses what it 'feels like', as the experience is not a perfect picture, it becomes a personal memory born out of many psychological factors, beyond the visual...
(out of the) wood/shed I, II and III, 2011, paper and oil on woodthese three small paintings (or works on wood) will be exhibited along with seven more works (of mine, along with many other works by the other paticipating artists) at the forthcoming artworks art group exhibition at blackthorpe barn in central suffolk, which runs from 10 september to 2 october 2011 (10am - 5pm, open daily)...people i know often tell me that they read this 'blog' and so if on reading this you have not been to an artworks exhibition before and would like to attend the special private view evening in early september, then please email me and i will make sure that you receive an invite. thank you to all those that have shown support for my art, especially over the last few difficult months - it means a lot.this will be my second year exhibiting with the artworks group and this year i will have ten small works in the show. i am looking forward to the opportunity of showing some of my art in this popular annual art exhibition.……
[detail]……artworks exhibition, blackthorpe barn, suffolk, 10 september to 2 october 2011 (10am - 5pm, open daily)Artworks is a dynamic professional art group of thirty contemporary East Anglian artists. Each September we have a showcase exhibition at the historic Blackthorpe Barn in the heart of rural Suffolk.
some thoughts on reality [working title]
some days i get caught up in philosophical tangles, about notions of reality, about how reality might be the premise for some artistic creation but it isn't the only impetus for making art. i know for example that my work seems rooted in my perceptions and experiences and it is not some abstract, poetic lyricism - and nor is it truly minimalist, where the absolute purity of form is in the 'present' overiding any need for narrative or subjectivity.i find it puzzling that the single lens of the camera is deemed more useful an aid to an artist in depicting a unique sense of reality... that some painters have become dependent upon photography as a tool, that they have replaced the two sensitive lenses (their own eyes) for the clarity of the fixed and unemotional single-lens 'reframed' gaze of a non-thinking camera. i know it's more complicated than that, and i am simplifying for the sake of creating an argument not to rely on the camera. there are many photographers and film-makers who convince me that it is an art, perhaps superseding painting as fine art.is it the purpose of the painter to provide insight? a combination of response, thought, process and outcome, one that is not dependent on a photographic approximation of reality. i think this is why i am drawn to abstraction, because it feels closer to the heart of the matter, how things feel not just how they look. to work directly from photographs seems at once removed, little more than illustration...but 'abstraction' in painting is a grey area, all too often misappropriated as an easy method of painting, and sometimes misunderstood as a 'concept', and it is often more difficult to discern its quality without an explicit sense of technical skill or competence - the 'intuitive' approach doesn't always cover it.thinking more... i think i create paintings which are based on a sense of reality but they do not depict that reality; they are separated, simplified, re-imagined, abstract reflections of 'reality', perhaps - a little bizarrely - how nature was interpreted in the arts & crafts movement, as a benign beautiful and safe substitute for the cruel ravages of nature.i am most interested in the appearance of nature where it is least expected, appreciated or desired, when it is discreetly evident and in which there seems to be another meaning or significance, to see it separated from everyday reality, not related it to anything else in the absolute real sense...i think sometimes (or most of the time) people will see what they want (or 'will') to see, what they are led to see. in plato's republic (which i was first encouraged to read during teacher training - but i have not read it from cover to cover) there is the idea of the cave, a place in which a game of misplaced reality is played out based on what the human senses are given (or are deprived of). some prisoners are made to face a wall in which all they see are the projected shadows of the events happening behind them. they soon learn to see the shadows as their reality, but if one of them is set free they will then realise that it has been a confusing illusion. it seems to me that a lot of contemporary art functions like this.the nature and meaning of the 'overlooked' and 'abandoned' has many personal resonances...i still recall the time during my first art degree when i did work almost exclusively from my own narrative, my imagination, constructing figurative phantasmagoriccal or bawdy scenes on the pains and pleasures of an hedonistic lifesyle. i took some direction from seeing the paintings of brueghel and hieronymus bosch. a tutor also introduced me to the drawings of heath robinson, and i was hooked for a while on the surreal, ways of 'invention', and that imaginary aspect has perhaps stayed with me... it's unfortunate that this old work, at the other end of the art spectrum, has no place here) and i am not sure i will ever get back to being that kind of artist again, it was different back then...there is a locally published art book, 'how artists see nature', which naturally raises the question of what nature actually is? how the rural means of gentrification prettify the agricultural landscape, so that some of us can believe we are immersed in the humble beauty of nature! there are many private fishing lakes as havens for nature, i think this is where some farm workers go to unwind. i have read in the local media that there is a new initiative to regenerate impoverished rural areas - yes! they will develop 'care farms', where disengaged or disadvantaged people will help to work the land as one pathway to 'social inclusion'. this is the strangeness of the rural and pastoral.back to the local art book... i did not pay to be one of the 'artists' included in this art book, and now feel like an 'unknown' outsider artist. in light of my relative invisibility, i could instead write about (or review) the many local exhibitions i have attended... on how i failed to appreciate the heavy daubs of oil paint on a large canvas, so charged with impasto oil paint that vincent van gogh's vigorous brushstrokes look thin and meagre in comparision. from the far side of the gallery, as the oilsome coagulation 'clarified', i could make out a local landscape.or... perhaps i should write about another gallery visit, when the scratchy roughness of oil painting on canvas perfectly suited the narrative contained in its subject matter, how the rural landscape seems scarred and brutalised. or the other things which i saw in a mixed exhibition, in the controlled delicacy of a large pencil drawing, in the whimsical, surreal contraption of a non-working sculpture, or the tattered remains of a deflated football (a relic of our time, to be sure) - and how i was disappointed there was no introduction by the curators in the exhibition catalogue... or perhaps i should write about another exhibition where the work was worth the lunchtime perusal, even with over sixty works on display. there was a spacious and yet sparse feeling to this particular art showcase of drawings. however, time seems to pass by all too quickly and i am just an amateur art reporter in this regard.perhaps i could instead, dear reader, relay the experience of visiting the house and studio of the famous british sculptor henry moore, and walking (in over-slippers) through his house 'hoglands' at perry green - how my concentration drifted away from the words of the tour guide to studying the titles of the books on the shelves, the many objects and primitive artefacts that were artfully displayed on a desk, a side cabinet, a coffee table, the paintings by vuillard and courbet, the shape of the sofa and the placement of cushions, the two oddly joining desks in the small office and the too many telephones, and how they placed fir cones on the chairs to dissuade any visitors from sitting down on them.or the very small cooker in contast to henry's monumental refrigerator - one of the first of its kind in a house in britain, american i think - how they could represent a man and his wife, or the shoes left on the floor in the scullery, and then the statuesque cacti in the lean-to greenhouse. or how, in one of henry moore's art studios, we had a small insight into his creative thinking process (as if henry moore had briefly left the building, to return later) where a small fragment of bone was deftly attached to a flint with a blob of plasticine, and there within its miniscule reforming was the 'idea' for a large sculpture... and strolling all through the grounds of perry green, appreciating his concern for patina and surface working in unison with sinuous forms.not all henry moore sculptures are shiny and smooth, except perhaps the ones lightly waxed and polished by some appreciative grazing sheep - and the pure joy in being able to touch sculptures - unlike at another sculpture exhibition i visited where i was reprimanded for daring to touch(!) a very shiny thing in the middle of the room. i made some quick drawings of some of the henry moore sculptures in my sketchbook...it was an all-too-brief experience of a famous artist's everyday creative reality. we like to peek into other artists' studios, to see how things are done. henry moore was inquisitive, resourceful, very astute in managing his career as a 'business' ...well-connected with the people that mattered.my own studio is not a museum! it is invariably cluttered with collated fragments of things, things not yet properly started, barely begun or put aside for another time, but there a few things that show some promise. on the days when these 'things' are going well then i truly believe i was born to do this 'art' thing and nothing else. at other times i have to realistically abandon the development of my art and do something else (work) instead.i have no pictures to share... it doesn't seem useful (anymore) to write about or show things in progress...
a visit to the studio of frank beanland
last weekend i visited the studio of the british abstract painter frank beanland...frank beanland lives with his wife emily (who is also an artist) in a characteristically old suffolk farmhouse (some parts of the building date back to the late fifteenth century), situated a few miles from the small village of fressingfield, surrounded by working farms and open fields, a good many trees and some nice hedgerows. it's a rural location which one could easily overlook or pass by, hidden away as it is, first down a farm access road and then a single track road where the grass still grows in the middle.
[frank beanland, black, violet and green, 2008]the house and its nearby outbuildings appear out of the middle of what seems to be a small enclosure of untamed nature in the agricultural landscape, as you turn into the short grassy driveway, as if being transported into a rural scene reminiscent of a 19th century painting. the secluded location has a down-to-earth, rustic charm that many artists would desire as a place to live and work, if they want to be free of the demands of twenty first century living.on my arrival, showing some awe of the secluded, shady 'in the jungle' feel of the place, frank first showed me around the rear of the farmhouse where a more recent addition of a red brick facade belied the house's true age, as evidenced by the tiny odd-placed windows (glass windows were the luxury of the wealthy land owner and they were also taxable). there was also a pond or two around the back where they once excavated the mud to build the wattle and daub walls of the house (or was it the remains of a small moat?).as i strolled through the outbuildings to where frank's studio is situated i was momentarily distracted by the myriad surface textures surrounding me, in the weathered black wood of a barn door or the slowly disintegrating facade of a rendered wall, appearing as graphic, block-like motifs within the dappled shades of summery green.
[frank beanland, grey buildings, 2008]frank beanland's main painting studio is in the largest of the farm outbuildings, and on entering this very tall, timber-framed structure one is immediately plunged waist deep into frank's prolific output of recent abstract paintings, an overflowing, exuberant world of bold and playful expressions of colour. what's not to like..? well, perhaps just the small fact that there is no electricity and there might be a bit of a leak in the roof, so he can only paint in natural daylight, he covers his work if it rains and in winter, he said, to keep warm he just wraps up and moves around a lot more.
for the last few years, frank has devoted his artistic practice almost entirely to painting on newspapers instead of the usual canvas or board, turning a once ubiquitous material (and freely abundant after initial reading) into very vibrant, often resplendent and sometimes ritzy patterned surfaces. in the way that art students are often instructed to draw, paint on, collage or construct with old newspapers to avoid unnecessary preciousness in their work & open up fresh perspectives, frank also relishes the creative freedom that painting on newspaper has brought him - turning yesterday's (or yesteryear's) news into new expressions of form and colour.it is a process now imbued with some unintended relevancy or irony, with the sales of printed newspapers supposedly on the demise and the news media fast moving towards pay-to-view online (and on the same day, the last ever publication of a popular sunday newspaper).
i asked frank if he had ever considered this unplanned outcome of his work, in that he was perhaps also preserving or honouring a part of news media's long history. no, he said, he does not pay much attention the contextual relevance of the newspapers that he uses, but flipping to the underside of some of his paintings it was clear he was a regular guardian reader.in the painting shown below (in deep yellow, grey and blue colour blocks) the various newspaper headlines and captions on the reverse included: work, movers and shakers, special intelligence, the magic of numbers, a better prescription, the complete works, archivist - all of which could, in theory, generate some intriguing titles for the finished paintings, or just create an interesting pause for a thought for the day...
seeing so many newspaper paintings stacked perhaps ten or more deep on a large makeshift work table, constructed of boards propped up by smaller tables and chairs (i estimated there must be hundreds of paintings here), the saturation of colours seemed to pulsate, interweave and undulate like the strata of the surrounding landscape, and with most of the paintings easily visible, it had the browsing experience of a moroccan bazaar. perhaps it is no surprise to learn that frank has in the past worked in printing and textiles and his sensibility with colour and pattern would translate well into contemporary fabrics or rug designs.
the nature of frank's very immediate way of painting on newspaper is that he often works on many paintings in quick succession, all of which seem purposefully considered in their overall design, composition and colour - repeatedly reviewed and edited until he believes they are finished. with each brushstroke of colour, whether blocked-in, thinly overlaid or juxtaposed for visual contrast, a broken edge of a previous colour might be allowed to peek through. in the newspaper industry's inevitable downsizing from large broadsheets to more compact tabloid formats, frank often joins three or more newspaper sheets together to make increasingly large paintings, often extending to banners or wall-hangings (as seen below).
frank's newspaper paintings have a wonderfully tactile and surprisingly robust quality too, which contradicts the nature of the support on which they are painted. he uses acrylic paints, which, mixed up in recycled tin cans in a multitude of colours and dilutions, variously create a matt smooth finish, a silky sheen or a subtle crinkled effect to the paper's surface - all of which added some fresh visual dynamics, elevating the paintings' appearance beyond the purely decorative.
as frank sorted and pulled out more of the newspaper paintings for me to view, the papery shuffling sounds recalled the materiality of old scrolls, charts, maps or textile samples. frank cites the rhythms and patterns of nature as some of his visual influences in his paintings but i could also see the barn's structural elements echoed in many of the abstract compositions.here is a psychedelic blast from frank beanland's past - knocking the spots off a damien hirst...
[frank beanland, red discs on blue, oil on canvas, 1969]i was impressed by frank's enthusiasm & energy, the new works on newspaper are unrestrained by the usual conventions of painting, and he wants the newspaper paintings to be enjoyed for what they are, as celebrations of colour - there are no hidden messages or intended subtexts(!) but there is a delight in trying to decipher them all the same.on walking back to the car, frank pointed out the reflection of trees and sky in the bonnet, a composition with all the delicacy of chinoiserie, and i was reminded of the one deceptively simple aspect of being an artist - to always keep one's eyes open and to appreciate every colourful moment that life has to offer...
...frank beanland was born in 1936 in bridlington, yorkshire. he studied at hull college of art and the slade school of fine art in london, where his tutors included frank auerbach. from 1962 to 1964 he lived in cornwall, exhibiting with the porthleven group, and during this time he focused on abstract painting, most notably a series of spot paintings. he moved to east anglia in 1966. he has received many awards and has exhibited widely, including a succession of solo exhibitions in london and elsewhere, in addition to numerous commissions for painted screens and printed textiles for hospitals, churches and private residences.frank beanland is showing recent paintings throughout july 2011 at the hatfield hines gallery in norfolk and he will also have some of his larger paintings featured in the holt festival.some of frank beanland's older paintings can also be seen at belgrave gallery st ives, chalk hill contemporary art, lime tree gallery and brian sinfield gallery.