On the horizon for autumn 2023 is a group show which I’m co-curating for Linlithgow Burgh Halls with West Lothian’s Arts Officer Camille Archer.
‘Calder Wood: Contemporary views on an ancient woodland’ will run from October 2023 – January 2024 in this beautiful historic building.
The focus for the exhibition is the rich and diverse ancient woodland site of Calder Wood, recently chosen as one of the Queen’s Green Canopy woodlands.
I’m delighted that my drawing ‘Seraph’ got a mention in the Times this week. It’s one of three charcoal and conte drawings available from the 30×30 section of the exhibition. You can read the full article here.
Thanks to Giles Sutherland for a great piece on the Society of Scottish Artists 130th Annual show at the Royal Scottish Academy and thanks to the whole SSA team for presenting such a rich selection in this impressive gallery.
They arrived unexpectedly, a procession of strange tree forms with wispy branches reaching out to anyone who’ll listen.
‘Spirits’ is a new body of work which has taken me by surprise. It has grown out of my recent study of movement and gesture but morphed into something quite different. For a long time I’ve studiously avoided drawing branchy details but these works demanded them to counter the powerful gestures of their decapitated trunks.
They began as trees but have become something (or someone) beyond that category of creature, so I’ve named their characters accordingly.
Isn’t it interesting how one set of experiences in our lives affects another quite separate set? It can literally change how you see the world. It’s all about making new connections. Creativity is essentially about connecting previously unconnected things, then making something to express that new perception.
I wanted to share a little on how my ‘Spirits’ series came about. It’s not always obvious how ideas for new work emerge but in this case there has been a clear path from experience to artwork.
Meet my new favourite tree…for this month anyway. I have far too many favourites but this sweet chestnut at Doddington Hall in Lincolnshire is outstanding.
While visiting an old art school friend in the area I was lucky enough have a few hours in its company. It was heavy with fruit and in leaf when I visited so some of its architecture was obscured, but I could still get enough of a view to draw.
A wild ride
Let me describe it for you, as I think my photos can’t really do it justice…
In the political and social chaos that infected this autumn, I found myself seeking some focus. With many competing ideas, distractions and the temptations of doom-scrolling, I needed a little help to work out where to direct my energy.
Do we really have all the time in the world?
Charlie Gilkey’s ‘Start Finishing’ and Oliver Burkeman’s ‘Four Thousand Weeks’ take different approaches to the same problem – how to do what’s important to you in the time you have. These two books gave me some unexpected answers. They taught me that I, like so many of us, am just one person trying to do far more than is possible. Since you might be trying to do this too, I thought I’d share what I’ve learned from them.
It’s been said that I draw in a very sculptural way – perhaps not so surprising when I tell you I studied 3D design and spent the first half of my creative career making 3D things. I’ve always had an affinity with form, which translates into my drawings whether I want it to or not.
This week in my ‘drawing movement project’ I paid homage to my sculptor heroes Rodin, Michelangelo and the ancient Greeks, all part of a lineage of artists who made stone appear to move.
My mission this month has been to refresh my studio practice with some intensive drawing, examining movement and gesture, refilling my visual memory in preparation for new work. I’m your classic easily distracted arty type so I recognised that I needed a defined challenge to stay focused. I gave myself boundaries then just tried to fill the sketchbooks and stay with it, enjoying the meditative process of drawing.
After working from the life model for a while, I turned to my extensive archive of photos and video from my years of tree-hunting. While there are 1000s of images to get lost in, I had just a few individual trees in mind which lend themselves to this project.
After a long break away from the drawing board, I decided to spend the month of August exploring movement as a way to spark some new work for later this year. My intention was to examine movement in the figure, in wood, water and other elements, in order to feed that fluidity into new tree inspired pieces.
Many people have commented that my work reminds them of dancers, or human or animal figures, so I felt it was a good time to explore this more deeply and in a more intentional way. When I’m drawing trees I’m always looking for movement, even though the trees move too slowly for me to see I know they are always in motion.
A framework for studies in movement
To give this idea some structure, I created a studio project for myself with quite definite boundaries. I know from my experience of sustaining a studio practice that this is a helpful way to get back into the flow of making after a break.
Ever since I found this strange tree in Aberdeenshire last summer, I’ve been longing to get back to Aden Country Park to spend more time documenting it.
It’s striking twists and contortions are vegetatively mysterious, visually exciting and emotionally disturbing – a perfect combination to captivate this tree artist.
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