And Bruce Mau says...

3. Process is more important than outcome.

"When outcome drives the process we will only ever go where we have already been. If process drives outcome we may not know where we're going, but we'll know we want to be there."

More words of wisdom from the Incomplete Manifesto for Growth. (Which I see Eric Holowacz included in his No.8 wire Ezine a couple of weeks ago - good on him)

The wading painting I posted last week is no more. I spent a couple of sessions in the studio on the weekend looking at all the things that needed work and making changes to the painting. I reworked the motionless bespectacled figure so he moved purposefully and with lovely forward flow towards the group of three - changed their focus so they looked in his direction - the rigid horizon looked great as a loose line 'corner'.... all good. I even reduced the black line weightiness that everything had... and the ripples around the main figure became a lovely wake. I stood back feeling pleased that I'd solved a lot of problems that had bugged me - and realised that the composition was screwed completely now !
My figure was falling off the canvas to the right and the small group was the wrong scale all of a sudden in relation to him.

So it all had to go - I'm back to a thin layer of gesso and I'll rework the painting with the knowledge I've gained about the things it needs to keep the dynamism and spaciousness I'm after. A good many realisations were made yesterday.

• everything is fixable somehow and it's always worth a try (really it is)
• nothing fixes a bad composition (or there's a point where it's inevitable. When you get there you absolutely know you've hit the end of the tar seal)
• a great idea is worth all the labour pains
• painting when you can't feel your feet is not fun
• paint won't dry if the studio's like the inside of a freezer
• ask people to text before they come up to the studio - otherwise they cop it if the paintings at a critical point
• don't even try to come in to the studio for less than 2 hours - just don't

So... it's still the process I love, and this is part of it (she says philosophically and with chagrin). I know I definately want to 'be there' with this idea so I'm beginning again.

¡pintar es vivir! (to paint is to live!)

Wading

My weekends work is a version of the sketches from last week. As a piece it's kind of surreal, and Steve my studio mate points out that the static pose of the central figure means the painting hasn't got the sense of movement that the sketches capture, and so some of the mystery is lost. He's right, and maybe that's adding to the sense of disquiet that the painting causes me.

Hah ! I see a pattern here - I'm beginnning to wonder if this is how I react to my work on completion - the joy's in the doing for me, and once done I want to improve on the result straight away. Interesting, though this time I really do think I could improve on it ( It's not necessarily finished). The figures aren't particularly modeled - I wanted to reveal the base texture and keep the composition incredibly simple... does it work or does it just look unfinished I wonder?

At the same time as working on this painting I was working on a commission for a book cover - all loose hot magenta and oranges - it was bizarre to switch back and forth - but a great contrast. I'd forgotten how much fun it is multi tasking on paintiings simultaneously.

Paper as space

Back in March I said this on my blog "...Trying to capture the spaciousness and air in my images ... this morning I asked myself 'what if the paper was the space?' I've been treating the paper as a canvas to describe a space and occupants. If I let that go, can the paper act as the space and allow me to describe the ripples we make better ? What can I do to the paper to allow the viewer to experience what I want them to ?"

I'm looking at these sketches and I think that I've managed to allow the paper to be the space. It's nice to see that progression in the work. March huh - it's taken a while !!

Up to the armpits in ripples

I spent the day in the studio, so the sketches are the fruits of my joy (no labour). I wish the parchment paint would photograph better - it's really a cool greeny cream in reality. In these sketches it looks muddy and brown - ah well, if I'd wanted to be a photographer...
I'm playing with the idea of the ripples we make as we pass through a space and interact with others. I love the idea of these people up to their armpits and wading through fields of energy like so much viscous water. I think some of them are working well (1 and 2 are my favourites, they were the first ones I made) the other one tries a little hard I think. (And the fourth one I haven't posted because the composition is flawed) Fresh and simple is challenging to repeat.

I'm planning to paint the first one, so I've gessoed a large canvas with ripples. What a cool days work.

Catsup

After I posted Parchment and Tar (which are actually a little warmer and greener than this photo shows), I realised the big hole that doesn't say anything AT ALL about what we've been doing on our collaboration lately. It's not a secret ...so this is a catch up. I'll add a sketch to it so our ideas are easier to follow (It's Ricky's, he's better at describing 3D forms as concepts - turns out I'm not so good at that!).

Basically, we spent a day working together (so much fun) and came up with the cool idea that we're currently working on.
What does a collaboration between a sculptor and a painter actually look like? It looks like a sculpture, with painted bits - conceived by us both and developed singly and together.

We're telling the story of what happens when a group of objects (in this case people) moves through a spacial environment. The important bit is the 'through' bit. If we move through a space, we don't just dance on the surface touching nothing with our presence - we interact with the environment, and it also interacts with and affects us. Everything exists on and of planes - and so the planes interact with all the other objects in that space. This is our idea - they bisect the figures and become part of them.

At the moment Ricky is making the sculptural forms from clay, he'll cast them in plaster and add the material for the planes later which I'll paint. We're talking together about the piece as it develops, suggesting refinements and colours and visualising it as a whole - my part will come later when the finishing happens. It's going to be interesting!

Parchment and Tar

These paintings are my entry into the Affordable Art Show this year. I applied ages ago and then got swamped by life the universe and everything. Like hundreds of others I left it to the last minute. These pieces are really just paint sketches that capture fast moments. I went down to the new Waitangi Park and sat on a rock, to watch and sketch the moves of a large group of skaters. I love their casual balance and the curvature of their bodies in motion - their brief flights and the long contrasting shadows they cast.

The paintings are only small, each one is no more than 200 x 400 - no time for grandiose ideas here!
I feel a little odd about them, (do they lack depth, are they just 'decorative' ?) and I'm strangely unattached. Is this what it feels like to sell out?

Hah !
In saying that, I want the 3 to remain together (even though they work well compositionally as individual pieces) and I did take them home to play with, so perhaps I'm not as impartial as I thought.
I like the monochromatic feel, and the textural effect of the dark underpainting very much.

I'm going to gesso up a large canvas this week to paint on the weekend. I want to play with texture as a means of indicating the ripples idea that's still persisting (though still in the thought stage - what does a space filled with people look like if the view point isn't from the edge looking in ?) and continue with making the work towards our show.

Decorative or not - painting is a fix - and I can't do without it. It feels so good to be back into it.