An unexpected Pleasure!

serpentine[1]
Serpentine Rock from the Lizard peninsula
Polyphant
This rock goes by the wonderful name of Polyphant!

So the summer of love has turned into the summer of rain, too much wind or not enough wind and very poor visibility.  All this means that a coffee (and one of their waste-line wrecking cakes) at the Arts Café, Truro, seemed a much better bet than going sailing!  Given that I am a card carrying member of the Royal Cornwall Museum next door it seemed a good idea to go and explore the displays and stay out of the rain.  I love the geology section of this museum.  I have spent many a happy winter hour gazing at remarkable rocks from around the county.  I really enjoy the way that you can open most of the drawers to discover hidden secrets about rocks, the earth and all things rocky.

Having spent a while reacquainting myself with the beautifully marked samples of Serpentine and Polyphant  I wandered upstairs past Poldark’s Cornwall to an exhibition in the temporary galleries by an artist who I try never to miss – Kurt Jackson.

I first came across Jackson at Lemon Street Gallery, Truro.  I was drawn to his work because of its expressive quality.  I love the exciting, liberating loose marks with which he gives a fabulous sense of freedom and I find his colour palette really draws me in.  Much of his work is about Cornwall and Devon, my favourite counties on the planet.  I share his love of the wild places; his paintings, which are often done en plein air, represent the moors, rivers and coastline which I adore and have within them a real sense of passion.  So I was a little surprised by this newest exhibition.  It is called Place and in it Jackson has worked with a number of writers from different parts of Britain and from different backgrounds.  The outcome is a diverse range of paintings and sculptures which hint at the diversity of our landscape but also have a sense of nostalgia about them.  The paintings are exciting and have a real sense of feeling and yet there was something missing.  I found myself looking in a rather more detached way than I am used to with Jackson’s work.   By working in areas which meant a lot to other people but little to him he has moved away from the personal and I think the work reflects this.  Somehow I encountered an air of detachment which I have never experienced when I have gazed at his work in the past.   Place[1]

Bridget Macklin Wyck Vessel.
What is it that is making me so excited about this new work?

I am left puzzling about this – is it that I have no attachment to these places or is it because he has none?  Do we, as landscape artists of any genre, need to be personally involved  in order to imbue our work with that deeper sense of meaning which is so intangible and yet clearly speaks to us?  If so, this makes it really difficult to branch out and explore unfamiliar territory.  Is there not a risk that any such adventure will be thwarted by unfamiliarity and subsequent loss of deep involvement?

I don’t think that this can be the case.  I have recently been experimenting with including local finds and information about a place in my work and have been completely engrossed in the process.  I am really excited by the results which definitely have a great sense of meaning to me.  So far this work has been exploratory.  The first pieces were in response to some clay which I was given from the foundations of my sister’s house extension.  This is a place that I know well and yet it holds no particular draw for me.  I suppose time and more work will tell whether the sense of passion which has grown in me for this new line of work is because of my feelings for my sister and her home or down to my excitement at the unpredictability of adding strange, untested clay to my work and just letting things happen.

Three Dimensional Doodling

At last there has been a bit of time to breathe!  Yesterday I found time to just sit in my studio.  The kiln was on its way down and I was keen to get the next load in but in an uncommon fit of patience I decided to just let the kiln do its thing.  So there I  sat, cup of tea in hand, mind in neutral.  Then I reached for a bag of bits and began to play.  I have so many treasured finds from my mud-larking and I am almost scared to use them in my ceramics in case I don’t make something good with them so I got a large sheet of white paper to cover up the table and tipped a couple of bags of treasures onto it and then I just let myself play.  It is a while since I have done that – so long in fact that I could hardly remember how to.  I have been putting such pressure on myself to get the greatest pieces ever made for the final push of the diploma -well that was bound to fail, DUH!

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A wonderful hoard of treasure!
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Is it a candle stick?

So here I sat, fiddling with bits of rusty metal and chipped ceramics.  Not everyone’s idea of treasure but then, I am not everyone!  I began sorting them out and then I started to position some of them more thoughtfully, wondering what they might become if I altered my understanding of them.  Was this metal loop for tying a boat up?  Was it an ancient Viking bracelet?  Was it a handle for something?  I reached up for one of my boxes.  The poor old things have been a bit redundant for a while.  I think I felt that they had had their day.  I have been ignoring comments about them being what I do; my signature piece; some of my most successful work because I could not think where to go with them.   In fact there was an element of panic when I though about them – Had I done my best work in the first semester of the course?  Was I never going to achieve anything better?  But here I had given myself permission to mess about and see what happened.

There is a really important message, well several actually, here.  Firstly, Kate Wickam is right, we do have to go through the same old agonies over every new project.  Sorry Kate, but there it is!  Secondly, I should NOT give up on my boxes, they have massive potential so I just need to get on with it and stop fussing.  Thirdly, creative people need TIME!  Bucket loads of the stuff, with nothing to do but play.  No schedule, no deadline, no ‘what are we having for tea’ type TIME.  And finally, perhaps I should spend more sleepless nights browsing through books about people like Gillian Lowndes.  maybe something will stick.  What ever happens next, I feel another box coming!

And suddenly there it was - tea anyone?
And suddenly there it was – tea anyone?