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Unit 4 Process and materials

 

Making rubbings / imprints : in studio and on the site

 

I had begun to take prints of the tarpaulin and studio floor for the Unit 2 assesment piece, and also of plastic woven laundry bags and a plastic record box. These were made on newsprint which I then glued to a layered  papier mache, recycled paper,  ‘canvas’. Idea there was to create layers of meaning and layers of physical presence of objects and also off or on site in studio. I then took this process and used it to make rubbings in a large landscape format sketchbook, and in the studio. I made rubbings of found objects from the Phoenix estate that I had collected and brought back to the studio. Other stuff, detritus in studio also began to play a part in the process and leave its traces, forming an interesting off site ? element. The physical process of being close to subject and literally taking an imprint of it, all different shapes and uneven surfaces and sometimes almost wrapping the paper round to get the print, was compelling. I filled the book and then took another one with me to the Phoenix estate and filled that up. I was using a thick graphite stick on its side and I continued to use this as I liked the messy, fugitive nature of it. I worked on the ground kneeling on gravel, rubble, drain covers, dirt, earth, plants, plastic rubbish, mixtures I didn’t know what they were, small bits pressing into my knees in the same way as they pressed into the back of the paper, which picked up bits of mud and dirt too. 

 

I also looked at the work of American artist Michelle Stuart :

 

In 1972 Michelle Stuart began working on a group of large-scale paper scrolls that incorporated frottage (a rubbing technique) with graphite to capture the uneven and unique topography of the earth’s surface. Stuart—who developed an interest in documenting the specificities of land formations while working as a topographical draftsman for the United States Army Corps of Engineers—has described her rubbing process as “making something manifest that you couldn’t really see otherwise.” The largest example from this group of works, Sayreville Strata Quartet (1976) presents the colors and textures of an abandoned brick quarry in Sayreville, New Jersey, on four panels of paper. Substituting graphite for samples from four layers of the quarry’s red soil, Stuart pressed the earth directly onto sheets of paper that were laid across the site to make this work. The panels show the soil’s gradations while capturing the quarry’s undulating surfaces.

Stuart’s monochrome rubbings of the 1970s simultaneously challenged the hard-edged aesthetic of Minimalist painting and its industrially manufactured materials, as well as the relationship between drawing and the artist’s hand. Moreover, breaking with the monumental scale of early Land art, these rubbings explore a physical connection to site and the product of memory. (Michelle Stuart. Long-term view. Dia: Beacon. 2017)

 

This also connected to a tutorial with Simon Callery in December 2017 where he suggested I literally work on the site (I made some drawings there on partly demolished walls etc but this method was very different) and to the processes he uses to take imprints of land at archaeological sites, this method did feel like a way to be connected literally to the place : taking prints, pressing down, sometimes using my physical weight too to take these. It was a kind of performance making them outside. I also remembered in the tutorial that Simon was enthusiastically encouraging me to continue to push the definition of painting – what painting could be in different manifestations, here he talks of its relationship to sculpture :

 

 Later, as a painter, I couldn’t see why painting couldn’t have some of the qualities of sculpture. I couldn’t see why painting couldn’t function on physical as well as visual terms and I couldn’t see why an encounter with painting couldn’t involve all the senses. The roles of painting and sculpture in European art have been much closer together in the past than they are today. Since the Renaissance we have done a good job of pulling art forms apart and elevating image above all else. (Artimage 2018) 

 

When I did my first degree in Fine Art at  Bristol Polytechnic,  in the early 1980s , after our first year we had to choose a painting, sculpture or printmaking route and you sort of stayed within those departments, though obviously quite a lot of students at that time were constantly challenging any boundaries like that, in terms of developing installation and using time based media etc. I remember the painting department seemed quite traditional and confining  and I enjoyed the different approach to materials and process within sculpture.  I also had a good cross-discipline experience on my foundation course at Kingston Polytechnic, where we were encouraged to expand what painting was into sculpture and beyond. I managed to work in both painting and sculpture, finding ways to use materials and a physicality in sculpture that I found frustrating in painting. Interestingly, back in art college many years (!) later it is interesting that I am still looking at the crossover between different forms of visual practice, and drawn to using  non-traditional materials; and I do think  of painting as an active tradition that can still continue to be stretched and pushed.
 

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graphite rubbing made on site

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graphite rubbing of studio floor

I experimented with different paper working outside, and also with canvas which didn't have the same qualities as paper when it was pressed over relief surfaces. All the papers were tricky when it was windy. I large sketchbook worked well as you coud turn the pages as you worked and keep them from flying off. I did actually stitch together newsprint into an actual broadsheet sized newspaper, on the sewing machine, and this worked really well outside. then I simply tore off the sheets I needed for collage in the studio. 

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Adding layers : finding colour and shape

 

The graphite rubbings at this stage were lacking in colour and also some kind of shapes : so I moved into a next stage which was in a way finding ways to add more layers to the surfaces I was creating. I had done this earlier at the end of unit 2 with the blue spray paint echoing the graffiti on road ways etc, and also referencing the river and town boundaries on various maps. Going to visit the Keep and actually looking at the old maps was a great inspiration for firstly colour, at this point, the physicality, size, where they were vulnerable and repaired, the colourings especially of the post war ordnance survey maps; and , secondly, shape ( and to some extent pattern) - I was looking for  shapes which did not simply repeat shapes of buildings or topology I could see now  but referenced the layered shapes of land or streets or areas of industry on the maps. From this it became a next step to use collaged papers to create these layers on the papier mache 'ground' (canvas). 

Papier mache and Eva Hesse

it was very satisfying to find just the right colours - the inside of envelopes, from banks etc all have interesting patterns, the pale green of the vintage graph paper pad I had got with the orange ones on eBay, the different green of the newsprint wrapper, and the very pale pink which came from some photocopied notes. I have to say these patches were also directly as a result of seeing the wall relief by Eva Hesse at Hauser and Wirth, (see notes and pic in research section,  exhibitions and visits). 

The A frame piece, very wobbly and unstable and when I planned it was going to have some sort of signage on it with lettering etc. However, I was in the flow with the collage and began to cover the warped, insubstantial cardboard with coloured papers and bit of the plastic tarpaulin and even a bit of hessian (ref. to display boards from 70s in local museum) . Also, my reference here was to  some 'paintings by Japanese Yoshishige Furukawa which I had seen at the Frieze art fair in 2018, from 1960s with reference to Mono-Ha movement in Japan, same time as Arte Povera etc. link to article Hyperallergic and quote.  

I had been writing about the plants growing so prolifically  on Greenwall this summer, perhaps as a result of the soap factory closing down completely and maybe the bank had been left to go wild (all chopped down now though). and I have dried and pressed some leaves and flowers and wanted to incorporate them somehow but wasn't sure how to use them  in artwork. at the same time my daughter was experimenting with natural dyes made from avocado stones and other food waste and then one day she sent me a picture of something dyed bright yellow from a buddleia dye she had made. There was lots of buddleia all over the site... I started picking the next day and over the next few weeks made great pots of the dye and transformed lots of the canvas dust sheets I had bought on eBay. The house smelt strongly of honeyed buddleia flowers and the canvas still smells slightly of them. Obviously buddleia is the most common ruderal plant to grow on wastelands, it forms roots very easily in rubble, hence the name ruderal. It also is not native, which makes it well suited to the messy alterity of wastelands... all our landscapes including our wastelands are formed from all over the world; place and what is in our places are constantly changing and on the move (Doreen Massey).

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