back to painting

Returning to painting... with the benefit of Tracy Verdugo's workshop and its participants, see previous blog entry.

I had not arrived with a particular painting in mind, wanting to work freely. My painting began as some do with the view to Jervis Bay, influenced in the past, as many, by Glenda Borchard's eye... though certainly already vanished in my own direction. [links open in new tabs or windows, close the new tab to return here]

Then as the picture built the landscape was subsumed into a nude form. Here began the serious laying down of base. I wanted blue depth under skin tones, something that stuck with me from my privileged access to the restoration work after the Florence flood of 1966, to which access for this young person in the Rome embassy because the Mitchell Library in Sydney had lent a world expert on print restoration. One of the major figurative paintings which needed its wood base removed was found to have an under-base of blue below the flesh tones of the surface to give them depth ... so I started with a blue colour for the flesh. (I have been unable to find that painting, but google being the serendipitous adventure it can be, it led me to discover the blog of Antonella Colaninno)

[clicking on any image provides a gallery of all images, press return to get back to the blog]

By the time I took that photo [click to enlarge] I had added story — I planned a yowie figure watching over her, with her thoughts streaming, her arm ambiguously seeking connection or fending off, also (we had begun discussing symbols in paintings) an echidna in the corner: singleminded, prickly, not easily picked up. 

At the end of the first day I had applied some skin tone and was so appalled by its state I turned it to the wall to hide its nakedness and clumsiness overnight.

I had no idea overnight if I would go on or paint it out and start again....

I did go on. Then late in the morning my female protagonist died and it became a tale of mourning. No photo of that state. Then I remembered I had been wondering what I might paint for the 2012 exhibition sponsored by the Shoalhaven Mental Health Fellowship, for which the subject was to be 'out of the darkness and into the light'. And so the idea dawned and the painting became "The Dream of Sunshine in the Morning". As it also remained for me to place a light cloth over herself. We shall see if it is finished... entries to be submitted 1 May.

I recognise this, having painted it, as in my style. I do not command my style. Do I like my style? Hard question. It happens.

I remain a story teller, the story evolved beyond my command, the painting changed a lot. The story it tells now is in my 'artist's statement' below. [click on images to enlarge]

THE DREAM OF SUNSHINE IN THE MORNING

In long-term invisible illness, 

you remain sentient, head full of ideas, 

and you remain sensual, heart needing love, flesh needing flesh. 

You reach out ... to touch or fend off? 

You turn away in loneliness.

Your totem becomes the echidna: small, prickly, determined, defensive, hard to grasp.

Your carer, your lover, tries to see but it's not visible; 

tries to embrace your elusive mind.

[mood change]

Oh, and!  We were given 30cm x 30cm (one foot square) ply, on which to multimedia experiment, with collage, paint, whatever. Exhausted by the major work, I produced a work which caused a primary school principal in the room to say she wondered seriously about the workings of my mind. I said I did that too.

Here is "Hey Babe"...

in the beginning was the line

I am pleased that, concerned to get my soul back into painting after a nasty period of illness ... and thus, hopefully, into the novel, I went to a weekend art workshop by Tracy Verdugo, an effervescent painter in the Jervis Bay area, a style of workshop Tracy will also conduct in the US (see Tracy's blog at link).

in the beginning was the line

Click on any image to see a gallery of all images, enlarged. 

Click return to get back to the blog.

The weekend was excellent... I was lone male among 13 women, though that inauspicious-sounding ratio was much the same as I experienced as an arts student in the early 1960s. And as I remarked at the end of the weekend, to have been painting a female nude in such company was a little daunting... though it might have been more daunting in a male group.

It was a supportive group. Painting is a lonely business even in company, there are moments when your work is something you want to turn to the wall, out of sight: as I did at the end of day one with mine (separate blog entry follows).

There was some evident influence from Tracy's style

— but being urged to work and work 

on one large canvas over two days

individuality emerged...

Tracy's technique for building a collaborative workshop was excellent. I don't plan to reveal her technique here. Some participants were experience painters and painting teachers, some had never touched a brush to paper. We were encouraged to begin with confidence just to build lines on canvas, interacting happily with each other's 'lines'. Fundamental to success was Tracy's positive energy and constant empathy and encouragement. Without which nothing. I heard someone speaking of being in an art class where the teacher constantly urged people to do something different, to get out of where they were. Well, this was pretty much the opposite, with constant encouragement to delve deeper in what we were, what we saw, what we felt, what we wanted.

The workshop was in the small stables at Worrowing.

Mood is lifted as you arrive 

by the jaunty security honchos at the gate, from Ironbark Security

The stables protective from weather, small enough but large enough

and lots of indirect light from huge doors and windows

There were moments in my work where going fishing seemed a better option

and these bipeds of the horse paddock watching me clean brushes 

seemed to say in a lazy way:

"Hey, get over it, just enjoy, the grass is green, come snooze!"

It was a wet weekend 

but we had good interludes to help work dry in the sun

(everyone seemed to put their work through half a dozen evolutions)

and see things in a different light

SIDEBAR- I am reminded of this excellent advice:

"We must be as courteous to a man as we are to a picture,

which we are willing to give the advantage of a good light." 

-- Ralph Waldo Emerson

We did several smaller tasks and minor works for diverse experience... especially experience in chucking paint and other media around. Also in framing and trimming down elements of larger work:

At the end of the weekend we got to speak of our experiences and show what we had done. Here are some images that speak for themselves... lots of desire to "put it in the garage" to which Tracy's reply:

"No, hang it where you can reflect on it, don't tell visitors whose work it is, wait for their comments."

And note that a lot of the following remain works-in-progress, with determination to work on.

And so much variety...