Elemental Journal
new music, reflections, melodic meditations and elemental gatherings
James exploring typesetting with 10pt New Clarendon with a composing stick. Placing furniture and locking the type in the chase with quoins and quoin key. Printing the type on the Adana 8 x 5 using gold letterpress ink on white card stock.
Kate exploring typesetting with Futura Berthold. Typesetting directly into the chase. Placing furniture and locking type in the chase. Printing the type on the Adana 8 x 5 using gold letterpress ink on 100% recycled card stock.
Back in April, when I was searching The British Museum's website netsuke collection, I found a beautiful bulbous orange goldfish. I wanted to draw this striking creature but it was not available at the time. Instead I bought The British Museum's book "Netsuke - 100 Miniature Masterpieces” by Noriko Tsuchiya and found a full colour closeup of the same goldfish. I made a drawing from the photograph and then a carving on magnolia wood. I printed the key block with Japanese carbon ink on white Hosho paper. Since January I have been making prints with Japanese carbon ink, enjoying the blackness of the ink against the white paper. Focusing on my carving technique. I have been inspired by Shiko Munakata's passion for black and white prints and I haven't ventured into multi-colour prints. Only a brief play with the Orchids and the Boats in the Sand at Paul Furneaux's workshop.
Orange
This Goldfish netsuke is orange. I think about making a second carving to give this goldfish print an orange body. And then I stop and I wonder why I didn’t feel compelled to make the Horse Grazing a warm chestnut? Why not make the Elephant and Man glow with that dark golden patina? Or the Ape Clutching a Gourd, mahogany? Maybe something resonates here in Victoria Finlay's chapter on orange in her book 'Colour - Travels through the Paintbox’.
“Orange - is the most eye catching colour and - in Cremona’s city hall it is the orange violin which jumps out straight away, shouting: ‘Look at me first!; the yellow and brown ones don’t make the same demands - I drove into Cremona on a warm day in August, to find out how one particular orange can - perhaps - make musical instruments sing.”
I think about Naoko Matsubara's beautiful fiery orange and pink woodblock prints of dancers, Inari and Maiko. Orange is singing to me and I am again brought back to that moment where the main character, Mataichi, from Kanoko Okamoto's book 'A Riot of Goldfish', opens the lid to view his goldfish.
“But soon there bobbed into view, like a Corpulent French beauty or a graceful and majestic woman of the Tempyo era, a round body, eyes, and a mouth with eyebrows, that made you want to paint them.”
I'm not ready for colour today but as I follow the path of black on white, I hold these whispers of orange on the horizon.
“It is the secret of knowing yourself and your materials so well that you can wrap your life’s experiences into the very body of an instrument, just as a true musician puts his or her life experiences into the playing of it - and when both elements are right, the together - maker and musician - you can persuade your violin to sing and cry and dance the orange.”
New booklets recently printed for my other project red deer sleeping. The booklets were made specifically for Sanctum Bristol. Each booklet cover is printed on the Adana 8x5 with wood and metal type. The text inside the booklet is digitally printed.
Last Saturday 31st October at 10.45pm, red deer sleeping performed songs of love and nature at Sanctum Bristol.
“This autumn, a remarkable structure will rise up from within the bombed out remains of Temple Church in Bristol. For 24 days, this 14th century site will be transformed into an intimate gathering place in which to hear the city like never before – Sanctum will be open from 6pm on Thursday 29th October to 6pm on Saturday 21st November, 24 hours a day. The schedule will always remain secret until the end of each day. Entrance is free.”
It is late Sunday morning. The sun is shining. The air is cool. It's April and we are wearing scarves. People are steadily pouring into the Arnolfini art gallery. Inside crowds are gathering and huddling to fit in the spaces. We start at the bottom of the building. There are three floors, over 80 artists, bookmakers, and printers. Scarves are removed and layers are shed. Strange and familiar encounters. Observing and being observed. A quick scan across a table of books and a swift move before engaging eye contact or a gentle hello, the delicate hold of an object, the turn of a page, the making sense of... followed by a question. Responses vary. Some like tour guides jumping in with detailed descriptions of the process, the history, the essay, while others hide with heads down in a book or in conversation with their neighbour. And another stumbling upon the unexpected - complete resonance with a word or a line, a shape and then a meeting of souls, a gentle smile and understanding. A realisation. A moment of seeing.
I was moved by artist Gemma Lacey's work. Particularly her series of drawings and poetic text of a walk she made with her sister along the coast of Norfolk 'From Cromer to Hunstanton' in honour of her grandma who now suffers from dementia. "In this work prints, drawings and text are collected into a book form that reflects the coastline" Gemma Lacey's - blog
Gemma's response to her grandma's dementia resonates with my own experience of printing 'Venus' after my grandma died last year. I drew Venus in my grandma's home in between visits to the hospital. It helped to move through the feelings of sadness and loss through the process of drawing, carving and then finally printing.
“How does the artist breathe life into his work? By summoning the spirit of art that lives inside him. This is the same with all kinds of art. Power comes from the artist’s spirit, warmth from his tenderness, serenity from his prayers.”
I have taken home a small collection of business cards, leaflets, posters and books to remind me of some other inspiring and joyful exchanges throughout the day.
There’s something very special about receiving post through the letterbox when so much communication takes place on the web these days.
This morning I heard the flap of the letterbox springing into action. I usually find either a bank statement or pile of junk mail ready to line the compost bin. This morning I found a little brown envelope addressed to Ms. Mog Fry with a 1st class Darwin postage stamp in the corner. Three queens also stamped in 2p bottle green, 20p grass green and 10p rusty orange lined up next to Darwin. When the cost of postage had risen a fair bit, I can see why people are less enthusiastic about sending a small letter which almost amounts to one pound. It costs nothing to send an email (if you don’t include your broadband, electricity bill and possibly a few more pounds spent on trips to the optician or the osteopath). But how many emails can you tear open along the edge to find tangible gifts? (unless you have a 3D computer but then you have to wait at least 8 hours for the object to print before you can pick it up.) In the little brown envelope are two miniature paper objects - recycled magazines folded into delicate forms and a miniature book shaped eraser.
I am curious about the folded gift in the shape of a winged jacket. I open it up to reveal a dynamic world within. Black expressive marks within their own canvases. I’m curious to know who made these as only the name of the gallery is written by the side of the images and they feel so familiar. The Sabine Knust gallery doesn’t lead me to the artist so I enter the string of words printed in Italian next to the images. I type into google images - incisioni puntasecca e acquatinta firmate datate e numerate su Rives - which reveals lithographs and etchings by artist Emilio Vedova.
Finding Emilio’s work in paper form and then discovering more about him on the web is where the wonderful dance between the physical and ethereal world meet. As I continue my exploration in cyberspace I find a film of Emilio’s work being installed by robotic shuttles at the Emilio e Annabianca Vedova Foundation, Venice.
“The main aim of Fondazione Emilio e Annabianca Vedova, created by the artist and his wife, is to promote the art and work of Vedova and to highlight his importance in the history of 20th century art through a series of initiatives, such as studies, research pro- jects, analyses, exhibitions, itineraries and teaching spaces, conferences, scholarships and prizes.”
Thank you Lilla for your precision folded treasures which has opened the doors into chiaroscuroctic corridors of the 1900s.
See more of Lilla Duignan's explorations at www.seeingthings.me.uk/blog
If any of these self initiated creative explorations have made your heart sing please consider making a contribution. Your support will help me continue creating art and music to nourish the soul.
