High Cross House (‘a machine for living in’)

Whilst in Devon, a couple of weeks ago, we visited High Cross House, built as the home of William Curry, the Headmaster of Dartington Hall School, and now a National Trust property. Its a modernist house designed by William Lescaze in 1932, sited in a very picturesque rural area, surrounded by trees and fields.

The whole building is very square and geometric, with plain walls and an absence of decoration. The lines and shapes are very clean and clear. The exterior is cold and plain, though this is

tempered in the interior by the use of warmer wood. There is a sense of calm and clarity as you wander around the inside.

Whilst the interior is in very good condition, the exterior does look quite weather beaten and distressed. It seems the American architect did not account for the Devon climate, with its wind and moisture, and, apparently, the exterior requires constant attention to prevent it falling into disrepair.

There is a fine display of pottery by Bernard Leach and associated ceramicists. he lived nearby and had many links with Dartington and the area. The calm and plain rooms are sympathetic to the ideals of Leach and his craft pottery philosophy.

Upstairs are two artists’ studios. In one is a textile artist, creating hats, scarves and other items to be worn, while the other is home to an artist exploring drawing practices. It is always interesting to see behind the scenes, to see how people organise their work spaces and explore, develop and create art work. It was a pity they weren’t working, but it did give us an opportunity to snoop about.

A very interesting building, an embodiment of very clear ideals and purpose, in its own way endearing and attractive. Though it is interesting how things so “modern” at the time, seem so dated so soon after.

Leaves in a book!

I am planning some slightly different work to my usual output, as the local library service in Bath is organising an exhibition and competition. To enter you simply choose one of the books they are discarding and transform it or alter it in some way. I am currently playing around with the idea of the double meaning of the word “leaves”, which could refer to the green things that grow on trees or the pages in a book. Over the last couple of days I have been thinking about layering and cutting pages, and these are two designs.

The first is a line drawing on a page/leaf from a novel, and the second is a photocopy of this on cartridge paper, with the addition of tome using cross-hatched lines.

I haven’t quite decided what to do with the background yet. I’ll keep you posted.

More leaf doodles

Following on from an earlier post here are a couple more simple pen sketches of tree shapes. I have included the earlier ones to show the development.

Two trees

Here are a couple more small paintings on pages from books. Begun a while ago, but I think now finished. Again they are concerned with the shape and form of trees and leaves, and with earth and sky, above and below, root and branch.

Perfection in a confection

Do you find yourself staring at things and pondering, as I do, frequently? Most often it is trees and clouds, or the rise and fall of a verdant rural hillside, which attracts my attention. But there are many other things, such as the fold and creases of a discarded crisp packet nestling against a wall, a road traffic sign, mildewed and weatherbeaten, or a distressed piece of concrete wall with a patina of grime and dirt.

Anyway, I found myself alone with a Mars bar the other night, staring at it and considering it’s aesthetic qualities. Now I have always considered a Mars bar a thing to be savoured; a rich and dense sweet confection. Surely a Mars bar is confectionary perfection. The perfect way to deliver sugar to the human body, in an efficient and attractive package. I have seen people devour a Mars bar apparently without proper consideration for its content or form! For me it requires a small considered bite, or cutting into small mouth-sized pieces, which are rolled around in the mouth. It is not to be eaten lightly, a real treat and indulgence.

The surface of the bar is a glossy and creamy outer shell, the liquid chocolate frozen in luxurious folds, as though molten lava had become stone. Smooth, crisp and shiny. Inside is a chewy and fluffy nougat layer, beneath a viscose and golden caramel. A feast for the discerning eye and tongue.

So there I was alone with the bar, having peeled back its papery outer cover, and found my eyes roving over it’s rectangular chocolatey form, about to begin my journey of sugary titillation. Needless to say, I devoured the thing of beauty, and enjoyed every bite. A real treat to eaten consumed in moderation!

PS. I do recall children’s author Roald Dahl (of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory) speaking very passionately and knowledgeably about chocolate confectionary. I believe he was buried with some chocolate. I must look into this further.

Leaf doodles

Here are a few doodles from last weekend. They were scribbled in a few minutes in a small moleskin sketchbook. I am exploring the shape of leaves and trees, again, and experimenting with the formal and symbolic possibilities. Again, clicking on the images and zooming in magnifies the inconsequential images so that the texture of the paper is visible, and the pen lines take on an interesting quality!

A little bit of politics

When I started making art “seriously” again a couple of years ago (that is, working on something with some depth and coherence, rather than just making sketches) one of my focuses was the doom and gloom of news headlines, and the all pervasive news media. I had taken up the offer of a subscription to a national newspaper, thinking it might be interesting and educational to keep up to date with events deemed newsworthy.  To cut a long story short I found myself getting quite depressed by the constant doom and gloom of the stories, the pre-occupation with disaster, paranoia and panic. It is easy to get into an apocalyptic frame of mind these days; with stories of fundamentalism, climate catastrophe, fuel crisis, economic meltdown etc. I had been thinking along these lines and developing a variety of ideas and images.

In some works I tried to relate these headlines and texts to my previous interests in illuminated manuscripts and their formal qualities.

In this example the T is from a well-known supermarket chain, there are doom-laden clouds in the background, and a symbolic tree (!) I don’t want to explain them too much, but allow the viewer have their own response to the juxtaposition of several elements. They are painted in watercolours, and some acrylic, on pages from old books.

I do intend some contrast between the bright and attractive colours and decoration and a critical and pessimistic message. I hope that the viewer is attracted at first to the colours and decoration, then gradually notices the text, and other elements within the image. There is a connection in this work to medieval apocalypses, which themselves are rendered with the same care and exquisite detail and decoration as a psalter, book of hours or gospel.

Harris Museum and Art Gallery

The Harris Museum is in the centre of Preston, Lancashire, an excellent example of Neo-Classical Victorian municipal architecture. Its a very impressive and imposing structure in the middle of the city.

Visit its Fine Art collection here.

Inside it houses a very good collection of art and artefacts. There is an extensive collection of glass and ceramics, which includes some fine examples of Staffordshire pottery. I did like this rather eerie veiled female head, with delicate folds of fabric describing her facial features.

There was a temporary exhibition of contemporary Fine Art, constructed around private collectors and their collections, A Private Affair. Below are works by Lisa Milroy, Andrew Bracey and Gordon Cheung.

There were a couple of very fine Carel Weight paintings, one of them depicting the crucixion (appropriate at this time of the year). Both very dark, with rich, deep colours and a heavy texture.

This striking head, by Dhruva Mistry was displayed in the centre of a room of Victorian and Edwardian female portraits. Its simplicity and Eastern-inspired form contrasted starkly with the detail and realism of the paintings.The central hall is adorned with Egyptian, Greek and Renaissance friezes; a grand and impressive space.

Montacute House

Visited the wonderful Montacute House today. A typical National Trust property in many respects with well-laid out grounds and gardens, and impressive architecture. See it here.

There was a wonderful exhibition of Tudor and Jacobean portraits on loan from the National Portrait Gallery in the Long Gallery. The paintings were arranged in rooms containing portraits of King James 1, Henry V111 and his court, Elizabethan England, Early Kings and Queens, and the Jacobean Court.

They were mostly painted on wooden panels in oil; the detail and realism of the facial features is astounding, and communicate a real sense of the sitters’ character and personality. The clothing and finery is rendered with amazing care and intricacy, the hands delicate and expressive. The Tudor and Elizabethan paintings impressed more than the later Jacobean ones, and there is a quite clear development in style, technique and approach. The later paintings seemed looser and had less refinement in their technique, which could have been due to the fact that some of the later Jacobean paintings were made on canvas, which I think led to a lighter and softer brush mark.

Here are a couple of the paintings, which are owned by the National Portrait Gallery. The first is Thomas More, and the second Walter Raleigh.

Visit the National Portrait Gallery website to see and find out more.

Creativity – Frustration, perspiration and inspiration

An interesting article in this weekend’s Guardian newspaper about creativity by Jonah Lehrer.

What struck a chord with me was the frustration of being unable to work, of second-guessing oneself, of lack of confidence in what you are doing.

One moment you think you have a great idea, or are onto something interesting and worthwhile. Then this feeling passes, and you start to doubt, and begin wondering if what you are doing has any value. But, then again, you have to keep doing it.

This frustration is a necessary part of the creative process.

To misquote Edison, Creativity is 99% perspiration and 1% inspiration.

Every creative journey begins with a problem. It starts with a feeling of frustration, the dull ache of not being able to find the answer. When we tell one another stories about creativity, we tend to leave out this phase of the creative process. We neglect to mention those days when we wanted to quit, when we believed that our problems were impossible to solve. Instead, we skip straight to the breakthroughs. The danger of telling this narrative is that the feeling of frustration – the act of being stumped – is an essential part of the creative process. Before we can find the answer – before we probably even know the question – we must be immersed in disappointment, convinced that a solution is beyond our reach. It’s often only at this point, after we’ve stopped searching for the answer, that the answer arrives. All of a sudden, the answer to the problem that seemed so daunting becomes incredibly obvious.

J Lehrer

The article goes on to give an explanation of how the two sides of the Brain perform differently and allow us to make new connections and creative leaps.

Read the full Guardian article here.