October 28, 2006

Autumn is one of the most creative times of the year for me. The smell of the air alone—with a hint of smoke and crisping leaves—after the staleness of summer, would suffice to motivate me. But add the warm colours and the contrasts of changeable skies, and the idea of returning to school, and I become very inspired.

This fall, I immersed myself in contemporary art, a subject I have ironically barely studied. Over the period of eight weeks, I saw no less than thirty-five galleries in Vancouver and on the Sunshine Coast, and read about dozens of contemporary artists, movements, and theories. I absorbed as much as possible about modern art, conceptualism, and photography while still holding down my day job. This new found context has given me a sense of purpose in creating art. I also discovered that my writing and art need not be at odds, for exploring ideas is the essence of contemporary art.

August 25, 2006

My printmaking plates: pronto (lithography), woodcut, sintra (intgalio).

Printmaking seemed like a fun medium to explore for summer. I was drawn to the idea of creating multiple images from a single design. Over the six week course, we tried intaglio, lithography, and woodcut printmaking. The processes vary in plate type, ink density, and method. The common denominator of all three methods was elbow grease: tedious inking processes, proofing, pressing, and clean up. The reward was always peeling the freshly printed paper back from the plate after putting it through the press to discover the unique nuances of the print.

We used a simplified lithography technique. Instead of using giant stone plates, we used thin sheets of polyester called “pronto plates”. The process was further demystified in that we created our images using ballpoint pens or Sharpies! I drew a few images with pen, but also experimented with toner by copying some old photographs onto my plate through the fax machine. Printing lithographs was very complex: a dozen layers of ink had to be built up while keeping the plate constantly wet before even proofing it. Lithograph prints were so clean that they resembled photocopies.

Woodcut involved the easiest printing process, but the most difficult plate to prepare because you have to carve your image into wood. The concept for one of my woodcut plates was based on self-portrait photo we took in Paris, and the influence of Edvard Munch's “The Kiss.” We experimented with hand printing as well as using the press. My other woodcut was a more abstract mandala shape.

For my intaglio print, I engraved an image into my sintra (PVC) plate based on my memories of a café in Ile-sur-la-Sorgue, France. I loved all the black iron window rails in France. The experience working with sintra was a bit like drawing with invisible ink - it was hard to see what I was doing because the indents were barely visible on the white surface.

See samples at the printmaking gallery.

 

July 23, 2006

I was not looking forward to starting a required drawing class: it triggered memories of my childhood art class experiences, where the overzealous local artists would actually erase my work and draw in the shapes for me. I have never found drawing still life arrangements of driftwood, bottles, and bike helmets very inspiring.

My first experience using charcoal was a bit daunting – it's dusty – black handprints now adorn the couch. But after the first day of working on the drawing pictured here, I actually started to enjoy the process. I created a mid-tone surface by covering the page in natural charcoal, and then used an eraser or more charcoal to create lighter and darker values. I was impressed by the way the gray surface enabled me to make a large drawing fairly quickly.

Drawing on a regular forced me to become more observant. Without the seduction of colour, I could focus on composition, which is essential to progressing the level of my paintings.

 

April 20, 2006

Spring was about receiving – collecting imagery that I will explore in my paintings for years. We traveled through Germany and France taking in great museums as well as the light of Provence that inspired the impressionists.

I enjoyed the great museums and galleries - the Musée d'Orsay, the Louvre, the Musée d'Art Moderne in the Centre Pompidou – saw many great works. But even more inspiring were our actual wanderings in the rambling streets of Montmartre, the views from the Arc de Triomphe and Notre-Dame's north tower. Driving through tiny villages in Provence where Roman ruins littered the landscape and where every day was market day in a different town. Taking pictures, collecting tiny fragments of broken pottery or scraps for my art book. Surviving on the daily espresso and croissant, baguette, and 9-fruit juice from the market.

Overall the most inspiring aspect of traveling in Europe came as no surprise: oldness. Oldness has always inspired my creativity. With oldness comes moss, character, marks, deterioration, colour, fading, imprints, pathways. A reminder of a way of life, quality of life, devotion to skill, celebration of tradition and wisdom that has been left behind. A reminder to take stock of what we value.