Maureen Walker's blog: An Artist's Journey

I think I’ve worked out what’s eating me.

I have not been taking fully on board what I have learned so far on the course.
​Instead, I persist with my old approach of “drawing outlines and filling them in”. My partner has fetched me some brown paper. I shall use it to draw Assignment 1 with white pencils and crayons together with biro, graphite and charcoal.  This is because I enjoyed drawing the earlier warm up exercise on brown card. (That is in spite of a feeling of inner dread about the actual assignment itself) White cartridge paper is so intimidating. I shall try to approach the assignment with the same light heartedness as I had earlier with my crumpled cello bag.

• 

• 

• 

Having gotten that off my chest, I’ll just add that I’m quite pleased at how I drew the curve of the violin with continuous lines. It reveals a level of confidence I hadn’t realised I possessed. It’s one that I have reclaimed fairly recently. One comment I recall from a school report card said that I demonstrated “…a sureness of line…” Good to know it’s still in evidence.

Ok, so I work from 6am to 12pm. In theory that gives me the entire afternoon in which to draw. However, once I’ve eaten, unwound from my morning’s activity, and practiced violin for a minimum of ten minutes, there is precious little light left. (As I type these words a little voice whispers “procrastinator” into my ear) I drew the above warm up exercise and then called it a day. What I need is a whole morning at my disposal. The light is far better, as is my general attitude.

I shall get up early Saturday morning and complete Assignment 1 then. 

When creative endeavours fail to produce anything that one deems worthy it can have a devastating affect upon one’s morale. My mood was not conducive to being creative. However, I had hoped that the focus of drawing objects close to my heart might add a bit of zest to my general outlook today. Sometimes it works that way. Other times, like today, it just backfires.

Firstly, I couldn’t get the composition right. I mean, I couldn’t find the correct arrangement. Secondly, I was in such a bad frame of mind that I could neither engage with hand nor eye in any way that might possibly bear aesthetic fruit. The above is what I did produce during a frustrating 30 min session. I retreated to my sofa of serenity to lick my wounds awhile and distract myself with Amazon prime video. This proved equally unsatisfactory.  I decided the fault was in my attitude. I gave myself a stern talking to and returned to my studio. I rearranged the items thus:

The sun was setting. With precious little natural light available I called it quits for today. I vowed to return another day with a fresh frame of mind and a better attitude. ​ You can’t win them all.

I am currently reading Sandi Toksvig’s memoir “Between the Stops”. Coincidentally she mentions the half Danish artist Pissarro and the Franco Prussian war – touched upon in my post regarding Odillon Redon – where both artists were deeply affected. Pissarro’s studio in Paris having been ransacked by the invading army. Just 40 out of 1500 paintings  were saved. He later settled in Croydon with his wife. I wonder what he thought of Croydon.

Did this exercise in two 20 min sessions. I’m rather pleased with my decisive charcoal strokes. I thought about their placement for a bit before making the committment of drawing them. Even armed with the cleanest of erasers, it’s difficult to reverse it once it’s been done. I’m very happy with the result. It’s not always easy to get the right mark in exactly the right place first time. I feel I achieved this more often than not this time around. Pleased. I shall try to put more expressive lines in first assignment though. 

The Devil’s in the Detail…. I saw this image in the wrinkles of a black plastic bag and made this quick sketch.

Odillon Redon.  Two Trees. c 1875. The Atmospheric potential of tone. First impressions. 

The image, two trees standing as though one were leaning forward to whisper into the other’s ear, uses tonal contrast to great effect. The contrast in tone lends the picture a deep sense of foreboding. The path one imagines leading through the dark aperture between the tree trunks screams out ‘abandon hope all yee who enter here’. Like some horror movie plot device we find ourselves lured forward in spite of our better judgement. The tree on the left appears to point back with a spindly branch. It even casts a glance from a ghostly face toward the viewer as though to inform his arboreal co-conspirator of our arrival. There is just visible the edge of a pond or lake in the foreground. Judging by the stillness of the water’s surface the spot that the trees occupy is secluded and out of the wind. There are apparently few witnesses as we contemplate our fate and pass through the avenue into the deathly gloom.
I wasnt a huge fan of this picture on first viewing. My initial thinking was that it was just a picture of two trees. So what? It just goes to show that first impressions of anything can be based on superficial information. After allowing the image to percolate through for a while I began to appreciate the subtle gesture of the tree on the left as it leant into its companion.

“Charcoal does not allow kindness; it is sober, and only with real emotion can you draw results from it” Odillon Redon. I went on to read about Odillon Redon on http://www.arthistoryproject.com. Born Bertrand-Jean Redon in 1840. Aged 30 he spent time serving in the Franco Prussian war. Perhaps it was whilst there that a penchant for the darker side of life crept in. I looked also at his other work. “Tree Against a Yellow Background” (1901) painted long after his experiences of war when he was 60, struck me as a real contrast to the “Two Trees”. The richness of the yellow juxtaposed with details in purple, red, blue and green are a feast to the imagination. It seems clear that his later life was perhaps more settled than when he created his earlier works, including the “Two Trees”. Indeed, as is underlined in http://www.arthistoryproject.com, the artist’s work became more “…meditative, quiet – finally at peace.”    

”Chris” M Walker 2019

Chapter Two: Ornament and Crime Toward Decoration

In this chapter there is a quote from Adolf Loos  ”Weep not…we have vanquished decoration and broken through into an ornamentless world.” Later it goes on to refer to Laura Owens, a Californian artist who uses decor  ”cheerfully and knowingly” in spite of what work (or prejudice against it) has gone before.

I’m also thinking of Tracey Emin’s ”Unmade bed”. Would it have not won the Turner Prize had she used a William Morris style printed duvet cover?

My initial reaction to reading this chapter was ”WTF does it matter?” Shouldn’t an artwork be appreciated on it’s own merit? Why does context matter so much? If you are ignorant of an artwork’s place in history, can you still appreciate it? If not, what effect does the subsequent exclusivity have on the art world and society more generally?

I recently went to see drawings by Albert Oehlen at the Serpentine Gallery. I was able to appreciate them despite not knowing about context prior to walking inside the gallery. I think that if an artwork feeds/stimulates a response on first viewing it then it has been successful as an artwork. Albert Oehlen’s drawings certainly had this effect on me. The moustachioed Daliesque faces (seen above in ”Terrible Sunset” Charcoal on canvas 2019) were a curiosity until I read about his relationship to what had gone before him; in this case; surrealism.

I consider myself lucky to live just 25 miles away from central London. All the best galleries are within easy reach for me. ​Yesterday I went to see the Lucian Freud exhibition at the Royal Academy. Again, I went in ignorance of the artist’s place in the scheme of things and of any prior knowledge of his approach to work or subject matter. I felt a warmth conveyed through his brush strokes for his fellow human beings. I hope it is not just with the benefit of hindsight, but having later read the book of the exhibition, I recall having seen evidence of a sympathy for the human condition. I feel that seeing the work ”cold” first and then researching the backstory is the most satisfactory approach for me.

I enjoyed this exercise. It forced me to rethink my approach to drawing. Instead of outlining everything and then filling it in, I was encouraged to look at the objects as light and shade rather than distinctly independent entities. As I drew I thought about the nature of the supposed separateness of things and how we see ourselves as human beings – as self imposed outcasts from the natural world around us.

Having ”lived with” this picture for a bit I came to realise that the pot on its side looked a bit squished. Hopefully the above is an improvement. The angle of the photo is a slightly different view than from where I was seated to draw. The base of the pot is still too small on my drawing, I feel that I’ve done as much as I can on this for now, though.

• 

•