Week 23 Experiments

I thought it might be a good idea to create a weekly post (that I add to daily) of my painting experiments for the confluence project, a kind of visual-log of my progress.

NB: unless otherwise stated, all paintings are acrylic on paper

Monday, 24 April

No.1 – I like the colours and balance.

No.2 – I like the light, and the highlights on the horses legs.

No.3 – Although flatter than the other 2 paintings, I like the smooth finish on this one. I also like the white line drawings.

Tuesday, 25th April

No.4 – I like the falling water (it has a mystical quality, which is appropriate for water). I also like the bird’s eye. I want the eyes in my paintings to be soulful and convey emotion.

No.5 – I love the grid, especially the white outlines. I also like the chair (for some strange reason I love chairs in paintings…I wonder if it has to do with the fact that a chair is usually the example given when discussing Plato’s world of forms). Although I do like the white line drawing, I think I prefer a more abstract drawing, like no.3.

Wednesday, 26th April

No.6 – This is my favourite so far, everything about it works for me. I think the grid is gorgeous, the inspiration for it was from a photo a friend in NZ posted of Instagram of a building in Wellington. She did her masters thesis on Hecate, the goddess of crossroads. I was just reading about Hecate and crossroads the other day. A river confluence is a type of crossroad, hence why they were seen to be imbued with power. I thought it might be interesting to represent a river confluence in my paintings with this grid, as opposed to an actual depiction of two rivers meeting.

I also like this type of chair, and think it looks good in a painting. Palette good.

No.7 – I love cranes and industrial machinery, especially those involved with water. In general, I find cross-hatching aesthetically pleasing. I think a crane (or in this case an oilrig), will work better as a line-drawing in a painting than flowers (as No.5 above).

Thursday, 27 April

No.8 – I absolutely love this painting. It is about death, as symbolised by the following: the grid – confluence (entrance to the underworld); apples = seeds of new life (the Celts buried people with apples – a tradition that is thought to go much further back); material = (the veil between this world and the next). The palette is great.

No.9 – I really like the white colour, which I made using Titan buff and a touch of orange and magenta. It is the salmon-looking colour I have been using in the grid. It goes really well with green and brown.

Friday, 28th April

No.10 – This is a gear shift from the other paintings this week. It was such a beautiful day, so I decided to take some paper and paint down to the sea. Similar to the rain paintings last term, I then painted into the marks made by the water. There are still elements from the other paintings present, such as the horse, water, and carne motif. I’m not as keen on the palette, although I guess it suits this type of painting. I would be interested to see it with a palette like No.8. It was wonderful to paint with the sea, and I would like to do more of that over the summer.

Sunday, 30th April

No.11 – This is another sea painting from Friday, that I then painted into. I love how the organic shapes made by the sea, leant themselves to the final image. It is also interesting how the sea paintings are akin to the rain paintings from last term. I think I should explore this style further. Ultimately, I’d like to merge the two styles together.

Flogging a dead horse-hat

The other day I was lamenting to my fella about the agony I was going through trying to paint my green paintings, one of which I was hoping to get finished for the Interim Show. To clarify, he asked if I meant the paintings that if I didn’t do them there would be absolutely no consequences. That made me laugh so much. Because he was right, not just about the green paintings, but about painting in general. Absolutely nothing of consequence would happen if I never painted another thing. Sure, I’d fail my MA, and have a lot of time on hands, but no one would die, and except for a handful of people, no one in the world would even notice. And yet, I put myself under an inordinate amount of pressure, and approach my painting practice like my life, if not the world, depends on it. This has been true of the green paintings, particularly the one I had in mind for the interim show.

I absolutely love the painting I had in mind for the show, but I have come to the painful conclusion that it simply won’t be finished in time. Because it is a new type of painting for me, there is a certain developmental process that it has to go through, and rushing or missing out aspects of that process has so far resulted in a frustrating, dead-horse-flogging mess. So, before I flog the idea into oblivion, I’m going to return to the beginning of the development process, so I can build a firm foundation for the type of paintings I want to do. In which case, for the next couple of months, I will focus on colour and drawing figures.

During my last one to one tutorial, Jonathan put me onto a brilliant colour theorist, Florent Farges. I’ve already watched one of his videos, and it was extremely helpful, as is his self-designed colour-wheel system, that takes into account hue, chroma, and value. It’s all pretty technical, but I think it will be well worth the time and effort it will take to get to grips with it. So, watching his other videos, studying his wheel/s, and experimenting with colour is high on my list of priorities.

I have also signed-up for a couple of online illustration courses. So far, they have been enjoyable and easy to follow. I don’t want to do realistic drawings, and am not interested in portraiture, but I do want to develop my ability to draw expressive characters which convey emotion.

Instead of showing one of the green paintings at the Interim Show, I am going to show a painting I did when I lived in Australia. I have never shown it before, and very few people have ever seen it. That’s because I hid it in my studio due to what I perceived as a mistake in it. I always thought it was a shame, because apart from that, I thought it was a beautiful painting. Then COVID came along, the world went crazy, and I finally plucked up the courage to paint-out the mistake, and I’m pleased to say it worked, and the painting is now fit to be seen.

Acheron 90cm x 120cm acrylic on board

According to Greek mythology, Acheron (lit. river of woe) is the name of one the rivers in the underworld, which, along with the river Styx, Charon ferries the souls of the dead across. It’s an apt title for the painting, as I painted it at a time when I was miserable with unrequited love, an experience that sent my life into a tail-spin of hadesian proportions. Ahh, at least I got this painting out of it. A fair price I think.

The benefits of getting high(er)

Having recently completed my study statements (detailed descriptions of my aims and objectives for my two projects, and how I intend to realise them), I now have a clear idea of where I am headed, and how I intend get there. The statements were arduous and uncomfortable to produce, as I had to think about, and then articulate, what it is I am up to, and what I want from my work and my time on the course. However, having gone through the process, the clear view I now have is my reward. It’s similar to climbing a hill. Sure, it hurts on the way up, but the expansive view (commensurate with the height of the climb) is generally well worth the effort. It helps you situate yourself in the landscape, and allows you to see the direction and path you should take to get to a particular destination.

On Saturday, my fella and I went to the pub. On the way, we decided to walk up a hill. After much huffing and puffing and moaning that quads hurt when you use them, we finally made it to the top. The view was spectacular, and our thumping hearts and near-hyperventilation made the moment transcendent, and reminded me that exertion in pursuit of elevation is usually worth the effort. Of course, sitting by the fire in a cosy pub and eating chips is also pretty transcendent, especially after you’ve just walked up a hill.

Prior to the hill-walking and pub-sitting, we went in search of a confluence (of the river variety), which is the title I have chosen for my water/green paintings project. The project centres around the idea of confluence – the meeting and running together of two or more things. Using the metaphor of a river confluence (a place where two rivers meet and begin flowing together), I want to explore various historical “confluences”, where natural and human-engineered forces came together and resulted in disasters involving water. Within the selected historic disasters, I hope to find individual and/or forgotten stories of people who died as a result, specifically through drowning, and tell their stories. I also want to create a confluence within the paintings themselves, combining two or more stories within a given painting. If successful, the paintings will be an allegorical warning as to the fate that awaits more and more people due to the natural and human-made confluence of global warming.

Naturally, it remains to be seen if the paintings I produce even work as paintings, let alone achieve something as highfalutin as an allegorical warning (which, lets call a spade a spade, sounds pretentious). Still, I like the idea, and want to give it a go.

Anyway, back to the river confluence we went in search of. We found an absolutely beautiful one in Tholt-y-Will glen, where the Sulby river (the largest river on the Island) meets with a tributary (I don’t know its name) that runs down from the hills. It’s a heavenly spot, filled with magic and mystery. It is no surprise river confluences were once thought of as scared places where the gods danced. They were also viewed as portals to the underworld, and places where propitiatory offerings were made to secure the favour of the gods.

I meant to take a photo of the confluence, but I was too busy securing a favourable outcome for my project. However, I did take this video of a beautiful pool above the confluence, which is part of the tributary that flows into the Sulby.

Oh, and we also found a cave where I suspect the Cabbyl-Ushtey lives. The Cabbyl-Ushtey is a malevolent Manx water-horse that lures passers-by onto its back. Once on there, the person is stuck-fast, and the Cabbyl-Usthey leaps into the river and drowns them.