Rebecca Odessa

Stealing is so passé

CSM MFA - Progress Blog, Painting, Research Project

There’s an adage in the art world – the gist of which is attributed to numerous people, from Picasso to T.S. Elliot – that goes:

Good artists copy, great artist steal.

We discussed this idea in our group tutorial a couple of weeks ago, and came to the consensus that such an idea is outdated. No one creates art in a vacuum, rather, we’re all influenced by what has gone before and those around us. Besides, the golden calf of originality has been knocked off it’s pedestal, in favour of connection and collaboration, so there is no need to steal. Therefore, do the decent thing and acknowledge your sources.

With this in mind, I thought I would write a post listing my favourite contemporary painters, whose work I both love and which serves as a source of inspiration. The latter is especially true in relation to the figurative paintings I am developing for my research project.

del Kathryn Barton

del’s work is glorious beyond compare. I’ve seen it in the flesh, and it doesn’t disappoint. Naturally, I love all the details, being a fiend for the iddy biddy, but it’s actually her figures I love the most. In fact, they are probably my favourite figures of any painter. Below is my favourite of del’s paintings.

Genieve Figgis

Genieve is an Irish painter who came to prominence through social media when famed artist, Richard Prince, fell for her work and ushered her into the New York art world. It’s easy to see why, her work is sumptuous, quirky and daring. I particularly love the painting below and feel happy when I see it.

Susan Rocklin

Susan and I met on a course at the Slade School of Art in London. Shortly after, she began her MA at the Royal College of Art, also in London. It has been amazing to see her work develop. I think it is utterly sublime. I love all her work, but especially the one below.

Maryclare Foá

I follow Maryclare on Instagram under one of her art names M and F Mo. I didn’t know who she was (to be honest, I thought it was a bloke), I just loved her delicious colours and expressive figures. When I was looking a bit further into her work for this post, I was delighted to discover that Maryclare is a lecturer at Central Saints Martins, and also did her MA there. I hope our paths cross one day, so I can tell her how much I love her work.

George Raftopoulos

Not wanting to leave the fellas out, I thought I would include George. Like del, he is an Australian painter. I love his work and find his figures particularly inspiring.

Well, there you have it, the contemporary painters I find inspiring. There are others of course, but I have run out of time, as I have a workshop in a few minutes (about creating an artist’s portfolio), so I better go.

Oh no, the workshop was cancelled, I guess because of the teachers strike. Never mind, I’ll go and see if that Fonzi wants to hang out instead. I’ll pick some rubbish while I’m there, as he tends not to come if I stand there looking for him.

Nope, he wasn’t there. He’s either gone fishing or is playing hard to get. Ah well, at least I was able to pick up some rubbish…including a permanent marker that still works. Thanks Manannan!

^{If you’d like to see more work by the artists above, just click on the images.}

I love a good workshop

CSM MFA - Progress Blog, Experiments, Week in Review, Workshops

One of the great things about my MFA course is the variety of workshops that are on offer. I took part in 3 this week, all of which were brilliant. The first two were textile based, and the 3rd, photography. Although my practice is primarily focused on painting, it can be helpful to branch out now and then, as it tends to be easier to loosen up and be more expressive in disciplines you are not so familiar with. The new inspiration you gain from this process can then feed back into your preferred/more practiced discipline.

The first workshop was called ‘Sustainability through textiles‘, which explored the relationship between sustainability and our art practice, specifically in relationship to our masters project. This was perfect for me, as my masters project, about water, naturally has a sustainability aspect. Through a variety of creative/making exercises, we were asked to consider our experience, values, and attitudes towards sustainability.

Below are some things I made during the workshop:

At the end of the workshop, we were asked to consider future actions we might take in our creative practice that demonstrated our values towards sustainability. I concluded that the best thing I could do is pick up the rubbish on the isolated stretch of beach in front of my house, that the sea kindly delivers every hightide. Hardly anyone walks on the beach but me, so I figure it’s my responsibility to keep it rubbish free. Sure I can still creatively express my values if I want, but to do that without picking up the rubbish shows I have no real values at all.

The second workshop was called ‘Emerging dialogues through the positioning of textile and visual arrangements‘. I’m not really sure what that means, but I had a great time. I happened to be the only person taking the workshop, so it was more informal and interactive than usual. I was able to discuss both my water and Ann projects with the tutor, and her feedback was very helpful. I also did all the exercises she’d planned for the class, all of which I found challenging, inspiring, and enjoyable.

Here is one of the things I made (the thing itself is a little naff.. but I do like the photo):

The third workshop was called ‘Finding inspiration: exploring photography through movement‘. I really loved this one. Rather than teaching photography techniques per se, it was more focused on finding ways to access your own creativity. It followed the same structure as the textile workshops, that of instruction, creating/making, and class participation. I found it genuinely inspiring, and will be able to use what I learned, not only to take more interesting photos, but also in my painting practice.

Our main task for the workshop was to take a series of photos of ourselves while moving about. My favourite is the photo below. Even though I was moving when it was taken (as evidenced by my hair falling upwards), there is also a stillness to it that I really like. I also like the one at the top of the post, though it would’ve been better without my phone in the reflection.

As enjoyable as the workshop was, the highlight of the day was going down to the sea during the break and having a surprise visit from Fonzi and his friends. It filled my heart with joy.

Falling into green

CSM MFA - Progress Blog, Experiments, Green, Interim Show, Painting, Research Project, Research Study Statement

Picasso was a horror when it came to women, but his insights into painting were spot on – like this:

Painting isn’t an aesthetic operation; it’s a form of magic designed as a mediator between this strange hostile world and us, a way of seizing the power by giving form to our terrors as well as our desires.

or this:

Colors, like features, follow the changes of the emotions.

I am particularly interested in this second insight at the moment, due to my recent colour change from blue to green. Blue has always felt like a safe, knowable colour to me, which is why I typically used it when experimenting. But green – it is completely different. I don’t yet know its boundaries, or what its emotional resonance will be on a large scale. On a small scale, it feels mysterious and other-worldly, if not a little bit spooky. When I paint with its darker tones (as above), I am reminded of a time when I was a child, in a boat on the edge of a lake. I remember looking deeply into the water which rippled and swirled with tones of impossibly dark green that merged into unknowable inky darkness. I was completely captivated. Even though I was only a small child, probably no more than 5 or 6, I knew I would never forget what I was seeing, and so I never have.

The above picture, which I found on the internet, is the exact colour/visual I remember. Looking at it, even with its poor resolution, I have the same sensation of wanting to fall into its depths. What a truly mysterious colour. However, the trouble with this shade of green is, it doesn’t really go with anything else (perhaps because it is perfection in and of itself), so it would not really be suitable for the figurative painting/s I have in mind for the Interim Show (although, never say never).

One thing is certain, if I am going to paint with green, I have to get it right, or I will end up with a garish mess that no one will want to look at. To avoid this pitfall, I have set myself the task of creating a suitable palette, so I’ll have a better chance of getting it right when it comes to the final work/s.

Down by the river-cide

CSM MFA - Progress Blog, Experiments, Interim Show, Painting, Reading Group, Week in Review

While researching the history of the Thames river for my Interim Show work, I came across information about London’s lost rivers, one of which is the Fleet. Technically, the Fleet is not lost, rather it is covered over and now functions as a sewer that spews its effluent-rich waters into the Thames under Black Friars bridge. Fleet Street takes its name from the river (ironic that a conduit of muck should lend its name to a thoroughfare synonymous with the British Press), which was alternatively called the Holborn – derived from the word ‘burn’ meaning ‘river’ or ‘stream’, after which the area of Holborn is named. Once a vibrant London river, with its headwaters in Hampstead Heath, the Fleet is now a subterranean Acheron that London has choked with its waste. It can’t be a good thing to kill a river. I wonder if the Fleet will have its revenge?

Along with the Fleet, I have been learning a lot about the Thames. The best source of information so far is a book by Peter Ackroyd, called “Thames – Sacred River”. It is beautifully written and utterly riveting 😉 .

Never mind a single painting for the show, I think I could get a whole body of work out the subject, I am completely captivated. For now though, I will stick with the painting I have in mind. It is somewhat of a departure from the work I normally do, but it is a direction I have been wanting to go in for a while now (namely figurative). As such, it’s all a bit new and scary, but I guess that is why I chose to do an MFA, to be challenged and to develop my work. I am still not sure what style I would like to use for the figures in the painting, so I have just been experimenting this week. The header image is one such experiment.

When I go to London in March, I’d love to spend some time with the Thames, walking on its banks, crossing its bridges, perhaps even taking a boat ride on it. I also wouldn’t mind doing a spot of mudlarking – it would be great to find a little treasure lurking in its mud – though that might take some forethought, as a I believe you need a permit to do it.

Speaking of mudlarking, here is a video I made for The Wisdom Daily a while back, about London’s most famous mudlark.

The Dark One

CSM MFA - Progress Blog, Experiments, Green, Interim Show, Painting

Some artists like silence when they paint, others like music. Personally, I like watching documentaries (technically I like listening to them, though I do pop my head up now and then to see what’s going on). My absolute favourite are pre-history ones, especially if they deal with religious practices and/or death-related rituals. I also like documentaries about water, hence why I chose water as the subject for my overall MFA project. As with pre-history, I especially like the religious aspect of water, such as its role in creation stories and its use as a conduit of transformation and spiritual cleansing. These two roles of water are almost universal, which is something I find fascinating. I especially love Celtic beliefs surrounding sacred bodies of water – that they are portals to the underworld, repositories for sacred objects, sources of healing, and, as with rivers, the embodiment of deities.

My idea for the Interim Show is to do a painting about the river Thames (from Celtic “Tamesas” – “the dark one“). Not only is the exhibition space on the bank of the Thames, but it is also an incredible waterway, with a long and fascinating history. I have chosen a small aspect of its history to focus on, and am happy to say that I now have an overall concept for the painting. The above image is a little sketch of one element of the idea. I don’t normally show/explain my workings/preparations for a painting, but we are encouraged to do so on the course, so I thought I’d give it a go. Once I have the concept rendered in a series of small preparatory paintings, it is my intention to produce one big painting for the show. I am not sure if I will have enough time to produce the big painting, in which case, I will submit the small ones.

As well as developing the concept of the painting, I spent the weekend painting more eyes. I think I have done enough for now, so will move on to some of the other elements I want in the painting.

The eyes have it!

CSM MFA - Progress Blog, Green, Painting, Week in Review

It’s been great to be back at school this week, though its made me acutely aware how quickly time is passing, and how hard I will have to work if I want to make the most of the course and the opportunities before me. Looming large is the Interim Show, which is a college-wide exhibition for first year students, due to take place in the second week of March at the Bouy/Chain Store, Trinity Warf in London. It is a wonderful space/location, and it will be a privilege to show some work there.

I’ve decided I shall align my submission for the show with my aims and objectives for my overall project about water, chief of which is to include figuration (people/creatures) in my work, and also to size-up (i.e. make bigger paintings). Whether I am able to achieve both or either in time for the show, remains to be seen. However, I intend to give it my best shot. To which end, this week I have been working on eyes.

Although I want my peopley-creatures to be quite loose and melt into their surroundings, I would like their eyes to be expressive and convey the emotion of a given painting. Again, it remains to be seen whether this is achievable.

It’s been a wrench to come off the Ann painting in order to focus on the Interim Show (IS) work. I only managed a couple of sessions of the latter this week. However, I’ve now put the Ann painting away for the weekend and intend to only bring it out for my early morning painting session from next week, leaving my other two sessions each day for the IS work.

My daily wanders down to the sea now include a little paddle. Inspired by a massage client who is an ardent Northern Dipper (i.e. a member a wild-swimming group here in the north of the Island), who claimed her daily dips in the sea have changed her life, I decided to get in on the action. However, the stretch of sea I live on is not safe to go swimming in, due to the fierce tidal currents in the vicinity, so I have to content myself with paddling my feet. Holy smokes it’s cold!

To be honest, my first attempt wasn’t very successful. I had left my shoes half-way up the beach, so that when I stopped paddling in the frigid waters, my feet were very tender, and it was too painful to walk across the pebbles to get to them. Never fear, with a bit of Kiwi-ingenuity I managed it.

I thought my first paddling attempt might be my last, until a little while later my feet began to tingle and I had an overall sensation that was quite delightful (my feet are tingling just thinking about it). Needless to say, I have been paddling everyday since. I can now understand why the Northern Dippers are committed to there daily dips, though how they are able to get themselves all the way under is a mystery to me – though I bet they feel amazing afterwards!

Speaking of the Norther Dippers, here is a Pathé inspired video I made about them for a film course I did last year with Berlin Art Institute (note my fella’s amazing narration).

I got chubby again

CSM MFA - Progress Blog, Experiments, Green, Holidays, Painting

For Winterval (our so named Hanukkah/Christmas/Solstice holiday mishmash) this year, I asked my fella for a 3 months subscription to Weight Watchers, which he kindly offered to extend to 6 months after witnessing (wide-eyed) my solo “box of chocolates, several magnums, entire Baileys Yule Log weekend extravaganza”.

To be honest, I don’t really mind being chubby. I spend most of my time alone in the studio, seeing no one but Fonzi and my fella (neither of whom are in a position to throw stones), and I don’t own a full-length mirror. What I do mind is not being able to do up my coat and being a sugar-fiend – of which I am of the highest order.

I am currently reading James Walvin’s excellent book “Sugar”, about the history of sugar and it’s cultural, economic, and physical impact on humanity. It’s a cracking read (or listen, if like me you’re an Audible user), and is one of a collection of books I gathered a while ago that will form the research component of a painting I’ve had milling around in the back of my mind for some time now, and for which I recently had a bit of a creative breakthrough with regards to its conceptualisation. It will be a few years before the painting is realised, but I couldn’t resist, while on holiday, exploring the subject further to see if I am on the right track (which I am pleased to say, I think I am), and to keep the milling juices flowing around the idea.

Term two starts tomorrow, so the above idea will have to mill on its own, as I have to refocus my creative energy on my research project about water. I did a few more of the green paintings during the holidays, but, I kind-a lost the thread (god knows why I started putting cats in them, let alone donkeys) and felt like abandoning the idea altogether. However, thanks to a recent meeting with a creative-strategist (aka a pub visit with my fella), I have gained clarity as to how I will proceed. Basically, instead of trying to knock-out completed paintings (a strategy that typically results in a repetitive creative loop in which the paintings tend to get worse not better), I am going to break the paintings down into their constituent parts, and work on developing those parts separately. Beginning with figuration, which will be my primary focus in term two (as well as finishing the Ann painting).

In the meantime, here are a few of the green paintings I did during the holidays.

A lesson in mercy

CSM MFA - Progress Blog, Holidays

Like most people, I have vivid memories of momentous historical events, such as Princess Diana’s death, 9:11, and the time Poi e made #1 on the New Zealand music charts. It was 1984, and we were staying at Nana’s house in Tokoroa. It must have been a Saturday because Ready to Roll was on, and we were due to watch Poi e, by Patea Maori Club, for the first time. Tragically, moments prior, I was banished to Nana’s bedroom for some long-forgotten misdemeanour (likely sibling battery). As the now familiar music began play, I gingerly pushed the bedroom door open, allowing me a direct view of the television. Unfortunately, I was also in mum’s direct line of sight. Feeling sure I was about to be told-off and re-banished, I was astounded when mum pretended not to see me, and instead let me watch the song in its entirety. It was a momentous event for me, not because of Poi e – as awesome as it is (I still well-up when I hear it) – but because it was the first time I experienced mercy. Mercy (aka undeserved kindness) is rare in this world, most likely due to the human penchant for giving other people their just desserts. As such, when you’re on the receiving end of it, it tends to stick in your memory.

I was reminded of my mum’s mercy the other day. I had decided to take up running…again, and there I was, running (read shuffling) around the Point of Ayre, when Poi e popped up on my playlist. The obligatory tears that fell down my cheeks, invigorated my strides, and before I knew it, I had been running for almost an hour. Naturally, I paid for my vigour in the days that followed, which caused my fella, when in my vicinity, to hum the tune to Raw Hide and ask as to the whereabouts of my horse.

I had already been thinking a lot about mercy, as it is the crux of the Ann painting. When I consider the trajectory of what happened to her – grinding poverty (she lived in the Manx equivalent of a slum), getting caught stealing 37 yards of lace (technically, she was caught trying to sell it, likely to feed herself), entrapment (don’t even get me started on the callous woman who deliberately entrapped and betrayed her), prison (in a literal medieval castle that a contemporary report deemed the worst prison in Europe), followed by her grizzly death in a shipwreck, the details of which scandalised the world and nearly bought a premature end to Britain’s penal-transportation system (but didn’t, because it was too convenient/lucrative) – I can’t help thinking that her fate could have been altered if just one of the people involved had shown her mercy.

I think its worth looking out for those opportunities when we ourselves can show mercy. Those times when we know someone has done something wrong, but instead of calling them to account, and seeing to it that they suffer the humiliation and attendant consequences of their wrong doing, we look the other way, sure in the knowledge they know we know. Showing mercy confers dignity, which, in turn, can have a transformative effect, as dignity is more rehabilitative than humiliation.

The true romantics

CSM MFA - Progress Blog, Week in Review

I’ve often thought that engineers and scientists, especially those of the aerospace variety, are the world’s true romantics. Watching the documentary “Good Night Oppy“, about the Mars-rover, Opportunity, confirmed this thought. The engineers and scientists who built and operated Oppy (as they affectionately called her) during her 15 year mission on Mars, came to love her passionately, and were heartbroken when she finally gave up the ghost. I challenge you to watch their final farewell to their dear Oppy with dry eyes.

Sticking with things romantic, my fella caught the dreaded COVID this week. It’s his first time getting it, and he has been a sick bunny indeed. We’re not sure where he got it from, though spending the previous weekend dancing outside Santa’s grotto dressed as a snowman and coming in contact with the town’s child population is the chief suspect. There’s no need to tell you how adorable he was as Ramsey’s dancing snowman, you can see for yourself in the video:

With my fella in quarantine at his house, I spent a solitary week in my studio at the Point of Ayre, working exclusively on the Ann painting (as mentioned in my last post). I am close to finishing it, and as always when the end of a painting like this is in sight, working on it is an irresistible pleasure. When I say close to finishing it, I reckon I’m looking at 2 months if I work on it exclusively, 3 if I work on some of my other projects as well. The latter is preferable, though it will be hard to tear myself away from Ann.

Because working on a painting like Ann is meditative, and therefore conducive to thinking through creative ideas, and due to the emotional turmoil of our current family crisis, as well as the added solitude, and, who knows, perhaps even the presence of the full moon, I was thrilled to find myself in a state of super-charged creativity, so I took the opportunity to think through and (imaginatively) resolve major aspects of my next (Ann-like) painting. I say imaginatively resolve, as I am yet test out my ideas to see if they will work; even so, it is an exciting step forward.

I reached another milestone this week – I have completed my first term of art school. It’s hard to believe how fast it has gone. Although I am effectively on holiday, there are a number of art opportunities in the New Year that I would like to make the most of, so I have a lot of work to do between now the resumption of classes in mid-January.

I had some interesting classes for my final week, including one in which I learnt how to code. I doubt Microsoft will be headhunting me anytime soon, however, I did manage to ask the computer to draw a face and some squiggly lines.

And in another class about sensory access to the imagination, I painted while listening to Spanish poetry – an exercise I thoroughly enjoyed.

Dem dry bones

CSM MFA - Progress Blog, Painting

My dad broke his leg last week, his femur to be precise. The femur is not an easy bone to break, and is typically the result of a serious traffic accident or a fall from a great height. Dad broke his setting the table. Quite how he did it, we’re not sure, though it’s possible a sudden drop in blood-pressure and subsequent blackout-fall did the trick, as evidenced by the fact he was found on his back with cutlery lodged in the bookcase behind him. It’s not the first time Dad has broken a bone. Indeed, it is no exaggeration to say that if he had a bandage on for every bone he’s broken over the years, he’d look something like this:

Dad’s a trooper though, and always gets back up on his feet. It’s a laborious, painful process, but he will doubtless meet it with the good grace he always does, and will be back, pottering around his allotment come Spring. Dad loves his allotment, and it’s no wonder, it’s a little slice of Manx paradise, that he tends and coaxes with his magic touch, producing an abundance of leeks, giant cucumbers, towering rhubarb, delicate flowers, and lots and lots of potatoes.

With the fall-out from dad’s fall, I’ve been a bit distracted this week, and haven’t made much progress with the green paintings. Instead, I have taken refuge in painting Ann (Ann being the large oil painting I mentioned in my last post). I call it Ann (its working title) because it is about a Manx woman called Ann Thompson, who was transported to Australia, on a ship called the Amphitrite, in 1833, for stealing 37 yards of lace. Tragically, she died in a shipwreck on the way, as did all the other female prisoners transported with her. It is a compelling, convoluted story which I have been researching for the past 2 years, with the help of my Mum (whom, coincidently, has the same middle and maiden name – Anne Thompson), and ever supportive fella. Ann now feels like a dear companion, and it envokes a deep sense of pathos to paint something beautiful and delicate in her memory, in the hope that in some cosmic realm it offsets the terrifying misery that was the last few months of her short life.

*Ann’s Transportation Order* – Book of Pleas, Manx Museum

*A Disaster at Sea* c.1835 Joseph Mallord William Turner – based on the loss of the Amphitrite 1833

This week, I also attended the last instalment of our drawing workshop, which was all about gestural drawing. As the name suggests, gestural drawing focuses on capturing the gesture or action of a figure, rather than the details (Turner’s painting above could be described as gestural). This kind of drawing, which is typically quick and expressive and, I think, very beautiful, is definitely something I would like to practice more. In the meantime, here are my initial attempts from the workshop:

To end, I thought I’d share the song I have been humming to myself since dad broke his leg…the harmonies are exquisite.

https://vimeo.com/user147216209/demdrybones