The project with no name (yet)

Added several hours after posting:

I really wish I could say that I planned for this post to be published on the solstice, but I didn't. Nonetheless here it is, and it seems quite fitting. Happy Solstice, be it short or long of light where you are.

I've made a few adjustments to the images I showed in the last post and am now ready to make the final version, but I'm out of glassine. So while I wait for that to arrive from Melbourne, I thought I'd tell you about the long term project I've been working on for a while.

If you've been reading this blog for a while you probably realize that I'm not particularly enamoured with Brisbane as a place to live. Nevertheless, I do live here for now, and in the spirit of increasing my awareness, relating to the seasons, and simply "getting more from something if you give more", I began this project.

Although I live in a small unit block, we have some small common garden areas and I have a large patio where I grow some pot plants. I've started to gather plant matter from the trees and bushes in the garden and my pots, and am doing tests to see what colours and marks they produce.

I've added to these with flowers and leaves that I receive as gifts, as well as collecting leaf fall from a couple of deciduous trees in the next couple of streets. Here in a subtropical Brisbane autumn is barely marked by the delicous colours that deciduous trees provide in other areas of Australia, but they are still the most potent symbol of that season, to my mind.

I'm also thinking of using some kitchen scraps, like onion skins and avocado pits, but I'm drawing the line at buying something we don't actually eat, like purple cabbage, for instance. The point of the project is to be a document of this place and time, so I don't want to add in plants just for the colour they provide.

I'm also choosing to include some things from my mother-in-law's garden, because she plays such an important part in our lives at this time. She lives in the next suburb, and we go to her place for dinner twice a week. She is the only one of our parents still alive and it feels right to include her in the record of this time and place.

Before dyeing swathes of fabric, I've been doing some tests with a few mordants to see the colours I can get, following a method described by India Flint. I've been using alum powder, copper sulphate, tea, and a home-made aluminium mordant made using alfoil and vinegar.

Below are scans of my journal pages documenting the tests for rose and callistemon leaves, and gerbera flowers, plus a few other bits and pieces. As silk is the most receptive to the natural colours, that is what I use for these initial tests, plus some tests on cotton rag paper, because I'm also interested in using the dyes as stains or watercolours.

Finally, here are some larger pieces of dyed fabric, including some bundled ecoprints. The fabric is silk, unless otherwise noted.

Gerbera flowers

Rose leaves

Callistemon flowers and leaves

And what's the plan for all of this? I don't have a clear outcome in mind yet. I just know that the work is about this place and this time. I definitely see it as a document, a record, and in that sense at least, as a book. I'm excited to start putting things together, but I know the collecting isn't done yet, and there doesn't feel as if there is a need to rush. The work may be a farewell to Brisbane...but that remains to be seen. For now, I'm very happy to continue as I have begun.

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After the rain: Update

No matter where you are reading this, your news service has probably informed you about what's left of Cyclone Oswald and its effects on the eastern coast of Australia.

Here in Brisbane, the sun is shining now, and we've had one flood peak with another to come. This flood is not as bad for us here as the last one in 2011 and we personally have no worries about being inundated.

This time, rather than falling in the dams and river catchment areas, a lot more rain was dumped locally and we have a wall which sprang a leak in one room. (Still not sure exactly what the problem is).

Luckily for me, the room is not my studio, but no so luckily for my husband, it is his music studio. The carpet, which was absolutely sodden is filling our place with its stench, as it begins to dry. The feet and lower shelves of his many bookcases were also soaked. Not being family heirlooms, but modern chipboard pieces, they are bloating and warping. But happily, there are no losses of things he really cared about, like vintage or newer guitars, guitar effects, or any of those mysterious boxes with all those knobs for a-twiddlin'.

Example of box with knobs for a-twiddling

So all-in-all, apart from the smell, there isn't much to complain about. Normal art/book-related posts resuming soon!

P.S. Did I mention the smell?

The Brisbane flood: connecting & contributing

Well 2011 has kicked off somewhat dramatically with the worst floods this city has seen since 1974. However, it’s far too early to get negative, and I’m determined to view the fact that everyone in my family escaped inundation as a good omen. In fact, I haven’t heard of any friends who’ve been badly affected. Just good luck, I guess, given the severity of the situation.

 

Out of respect for those who haven’t been so lucky, I haven’t been out of my local area since this all started. “Rubber-necking” has been firmly discouraged by the authorities, and quite rightly so. It didn’t feel right to take photos, even locally, but a very high resolution aerial photo, taken on Thursday Jan 13th after the peak is online here.

I’ve posted a tiny section showing where I live and the closest flooding to our home. It seems quite far away, but when the worst was feared the prediction was for flooding to come as close as the footy field just across from us.

Below is a close-up of the area in the red square.

I find it quite heartbreaking peeking into those backyards. If you click on the photo you’ll see more detail, like the clothes lines and pools. Remember that’s after the peak. Nevertheless, our suburb is so much better off than many others.

It’s been incredible to see the way the city has rallied around those people who have lost so much. The money, the clothes and toys, but most impressive of all is the willingness to offer ones own time to do what is at best uncomfortable work. It’s been hot, humid and smelly and yet they came in their thousands.

Brisbane in the 21st century had become a bit of a strange, soulless place, in my opinion. Back before good old Expo ‘88 we used to be described by Southerners as “just a big country town”. It was meant derisively but it was pretty true, right down to the sense that you knew everybody (and their business) and that we looked out for one another, for their kids and so on.

By the new millennium, we may have acquired outdoor cafes and shops that stay open on Sundays, but we had lost a sense of community in all but a few small enclaves.

I can’t help hoping that the floods just might teach us the value of community, about reaching out and contributing time and effort for something beyond our own personal benefit. It might remind us of the joy to be had from connecting with neighbours and from the collective sense of belonging to a place.  And most certainly it should remind us, as we seem to need to be reminded at regular intervals, that Nature is the boss and we disregard this fact at our own peril.

This might all seem pretty off-topic for me and this blog, but the strange thing is, it is exactly what I wanted to express in my first post of the year. After all the reviewing and thinking and planning I did in December, I tried to come up with one word to set the “tone” or theme for the sort of 2011 I hope to create. And I couldn’t do it of course, but I did come up with three: Connect/Community/Contribute.

These are the things that I most enjoyed about 2010 but that I felt I wanted in greater quantities. I realized that the easiest way (and therefore most likely to be successful) was to do this online. Being ill has left me feeling terribly isolated at times, but since hooking up online with both other PWCFS and with my book arts buddies, this has been much better. Still, I do want more, and I genuinely want to give back. I used to work in “a helping profession” so I always felt that I was giving and contributing, and never had to seek out more ways to do so. I don’t see it as realistic to consider that type of work any more, but I still have a lot to contribute, and I want to contribute.

I also want to share my work with more people. And when I say share, I do mean share. It isn’t about making money from it, I just want people to see it and derive pleasure from it. You might remember that for my 200th post last year, I had a give-away, and I was surprised by the pleasure and satisfaction I felt as I sent my prints off to their new homes.

At the moment, I am setting up a website that will have a shop facility, and I have decided that all proceeds from sales made before June 30 this year will be donated to the Queensland Premier’s Flood Relief Appeal. Hopefully the website will be online in the next few weeks. If you would like to be notified when it comes online, please leave a comment on this post with your email address. In the meantime, if you feel you would like to, you can of course donate directly on the Qld government site.

Openings: a confession

There were two openings on last night that I had hoped to attend.

I actually don’t really enjoy openings that much. For starters, it’s a terrible way to see the art because everyone is so crammed in. Secondly, there’s the speeches (yawn) and finally there’s the small talk. Even worse, if you don’t actually know anyone, you stand around, nursing your drink and trying to look comfortable, thoughtful, approachable or whatever!

I know this makes me sound like a terrible grouch, but hey! I’m an artist, and I spend long stretches of time on my own. We can’t all be so adaptable! (I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels like this, am I???)

But it’s not just a matter of preference and avoiding situations that are a bit challenging. If it was, I would be firmer with myself and do the professional thing. The fact is that by evening I am usually pretty tired and the last thing I feel like doing is dressing up and going out. Preparing and eating dinner and then getting ready for bed is often challenging enough!

I’m gradually accepting that this is just the way I am, but I do try to make it to openings of friends, because I do understand how important these occasions are, and how much that type of support is appreciated.

All that being said, I did hope to get to these two openings last night. But I didn’t. It wasn’t completely slackness though. On Thursday I had to have a filling and although it all went smoothly, I was rather nervous because the dentist was new to me, plus having suffered TMJ syndrome, my neck was complaining about having to bear tipping back and holding my mouth open for half an hour. I had a vague headache and I was pretty tired – and I have promised myself that I would be a lot kinder to myself.

So, I didn’t go. But I will be going along to the shows in the next week and I’ll tell you all about them. Until then, in case you’re nearby, here’s the details.

Both shows are group shows and will include a variety of works. First off is 6 Degrees, with artist Sandra Pearce, friend and fellow Impress Printmakers member.

The second show is the Studio West End group show entitled Self Portrait. This will showcase the work of 24 artists, led by Adele Outteridge and Wim de Vos.

And despite what I’ve said about openings in general, I am really looking forward to seeing the shows.

Day 17: The yellow house

A lovely example of traditional Queensland architecture.

I’m thinking of making a long-term series along the lines of “In my street” or “In my suburb”. This would obviously be a part of that.

Day 15: Leaving Brisbane

No processing at all – just as it came out of the camera. More photos on Monday.

Day 11: Reflections

More from my walk last week

Day 10: Blue skies after rain

Last photo before the week-end.

Taken this morning on my walk, after heavy rain on Wednesday. This small grove of trees is one of my favourite local spots.

If you click on the image, you should see a larger version.

Craft Revolution

Marisa Molin: From the series Symbiosis

Last week-end I went to see "Craft Revolution" at QUT Art Museum. From the website:

"Craft Revolution explores the idea that craft is radical and revolutionary, through an exhibition and online discussion. Rejecting the dominant culture of consumption and the loss of community, craft is a means of creation and engagement that is slow, purposeful and often cooperative. It is this rejection of the dominant consumptive culture and the return to historic or traditional practices that makes craft revolutionary."

The show is only quite small, I found it disappointingly so. It includes some traditional craft works as well as more contemporary pieces. Personally, I'm not really sure they really added much, although the message was clear: your craft doesn't have to be highly conceptual in order to be radical. Still, it was works with a conceptual base that I found most inspiring.

Marisa Molin's works (above) were a case in point. Contemporary jewelry makers are currently among the most radical craftspersons, in my opinion. Working with the relationship of adornment to the body opens up so many avenues. I was especially pleased to see the actual works by Molin, in addition to the photos depicting them in relation to the body.

Another work that really appealed to me was a gorgeous dress by Tallulah Filloy which brought together aspects of traditional Maori costume with a skirt made from a beautiful red bathmat. Yes , I said bathmat. And yes, if it was in my size, I'd wear it!"Our Father Who Art in Heaven", 2008 by Ann-Maree Hanna

But my favourite work was this one by Ann-Maree Hanna. Unfortunately I couldn't find a picture of it as it is installed for this show. It is quite breathtaking in it's beauty and profound in it's message. The work is made from embroidery thread and is a scrolled version of the Lord's Prayer written in arabic. The calligraphic lines of the script rendered in gold are suspended from one end and gently fall to the floor, where the rest of the prayer remains on its giant bobbin. The lighting is used to great effect to cast the shadow of the words onto the wall. The bringing together of Christianity with the language of the troubled middle east is such a beautiful sight, I'd recommend this exhibition for this piece alone.

You can read and see more about this show on the QUT website (where I found the photos, and sorry, I don't have permission) and on the associated blog.