Monday, 24 February 2014

The End of the Pathway Road...


Helloooo everyone,

I've come to the end of my pathway stage in my Foundation Year and finally ticked all the checklist boxes to start my final piece. As the title says 'The End of the Pathway Road' this is pretty much self explanatory.
After completing all my ideas, research, drawings and annotations I finally got to produce the final piece of work that sums up this entire project!

To finish off everything that I have looked at so far, I started to look at the art movement Pointillism which is a technique of painting in which small, distinct dots of pure color are applied in patterns to form an image. Divisionism  is concerned with color theory, whereas Pointillism is more focused on the specific style of brushwork used to apply the paint. As notably seen in the works of Seurat, Signac, and Cross.
The technique relies on the ability of the eye and mind of the viewer to blend the color spots into a fuller range of tones.

I had also looked at reflections and how artists in the Impressionism period started to express them through materials and techniques. The term " Venus Effect" for a common phenomenon in picture perception. It occurs when a picture shows an actor and a mirror that are not placed along the observers line of sight.
When artists depict a mirror in a painting, it necessarily lacks the most obvious property of a mirror; as we move around of the painting the mirror, the reflections we see in it do not change. And yet representations of mirrors and other reflecting surfaces can be quite convincing in paintings.

SOOO...In order to complete my final piece with the concluding research I have at hand I decided to look into Seurat and Monet's work to compare both opposing artists and techniques.
An example of Monet Reflections.

Example of Seurat and Pointillism.

In most of Claude Monet's work he produces reflective setting scenes; examples include; the water lilies series of how Monet depicts the flower garden at Giverny.

He was the most  consistent and prolific practitioner of the French Impressionistic's Movement's philosophy of expressing one's perception before nature, especially as applied to 'Plein-air landscape painting'.







Seurat was a French post- impressionistic painter and one of the most famous icons of the 19th Century.
He moved away from the apparent spontaneity and rapidity of Impressionism and developed a structured more monumental art to depict modern urban life.







The developed final piece...

"Seasonal Time" I named it considering the timeline of aligned trees in seasonal order. And to depict the time I used the reflections in the foreground to oppose the bright sky.
I had merely got this idea from Monet's ambition of documenting the French countryside which led him to adopt a method of painting the same scene many times in order to capture the changing of light and the passing of seasons.

I feel that in my final major project I am going to focus on my strengths after all and to extend my use of materials and techniques even further.

Monday, 10 February 2014

De-constructing the Abstract Painting


















Helloooo everyone so last week was all about de-constructing a painting by eliminating texture, tone, shape, colour and all the preliminary aspects in order to prepare myself for understanding; what makes a painting and what does it represent (if you cant make out the image, history, etc. ) So now I will talk through some of the paintings I saw when I visited the Walker Gallery and what peoples first reactions are when they see abstract paintings.

When you visit a gallery, you’ll see all kinds of paintings hanging on the walls.  Beautifully painted landscapes and still lives, seascapes and sky-caps, elegant floral and evocative figures, and plenty of abstracts, too.  I love the mix and I've learned over the years that the key to understanding and appreciating abstract art is to quieten our minds and let our instincts and senses do the talking.

Some of the questions and comments you get when interpreting a painting could be either of these examples:
“I don’t get this. What’s it about?”
"A five-year-old could paint this.”

“I like paintings I can understand.”


I love this dynamic abstract by Audrey Phillips. Light Vision, 38 x 43, mixed media on panel.  The palette is soothing, but the composition is energized and compelling.
Abstract art, by definition, is a painting, sculpture or installation that does not depict a person, place or thing of the natural world.  Art can be intimidating and scary and leave you feeling unsure and uneasy – all of which goes against our grain at Huff Harrington. So, here are a couple tips to make the whole process of understanding abstract art more enjoyable and rewarding.

Martina Griffin’s Lovesick Blues (36 x 30, mixed media on canvas) is all about form and palette.
I'm Nervous!  Yes…abstract art can be a little nerve-racking.   And that’s because the responsibility of understanding it falls directly to the viewer.  When this happens, the artist likes to gently lead the client into the painting with this analogy:  imagine the painting is a symphony.  Instead of closing your eyes and listening to the music, try closing your ears and just look at the painting.  Explore the painting on your own terms and come to your own conclusions.  Abstract art is all about form, line, palette and composition. And when those elements come together on a canvas, the results can be magical.

This lyrical painting by Liz Barber will effortlessly draw you in with its repetitive composition. Inspired by water? I think... Sunset Surf, 48 x 60, mixed media on canvas.
What’s the Right Answer?   There’s not a right answer and there’s not a wrong answer either – but you may have to work a little bit to figure that out.   Because there’s no familiar image to relate to while viewing an abstract painting, you really have to open your mind and re-align what you've been taught about art.  You have to let go of pre-conceived notions and let your sense take over the driving.    We’ll hear this: “Is the artist trying to convey water or a wave?  Because I'm not sure if that looks like a wave but I really like the way he/she put the paint in that one spot.”  That visitor to the gallery just got an A+ for looking at the abstract painting for what it is, not what it’s supposed to be.  It’s all about being open to interpretation.

I love the composition of Melissa Payne Baker’s Milestone I (30 x 22, mixed media on canvas) It’s also full of textural nuances and the palette is warm.
Make It Personal:  It’s best to see abstract art in person. Because there’s often not an identifiable subject in the painting, the nuances that create the painting can be lost in photography or on the internet. Because abstract art is rooted in non-tangible subjects, the technical aspects of the painting become even more important.  The use of media can add texture, depth and dimension – all of which could be lost in a photograph. 

Aaron Whitehouse painted this piece for a client. You really have to see his work in person to get the texture, depth and dimension that he incorporates. This one makes me think I'm looking through a pool of water to a bottom made of beach glass.
My Five-Year-Old….:  it takes great skill to create a meaningful abstract piece. And what may look like random squiggles on a canvas or blotchy areas of paint are actually the result of a  perfect little storm of composition, form and aesthetic.  Study an abstract that you’re drawn to for a while and all of sudden it all makes sense.

Tuesday, 4 February 2014

8 Crazy Experiments Passed Off As Art


Hiyaaaa,

SO...I've started doing quick experiments and when i started to browse the internet I came across this article, which I thought this looks interesting and weird. I think its quite shocking but imaginative have a look here:

Over the centuries our definition of ‘art’ has changed a lot. Three hundred years ago, it meant paintings of trees. A hundred years ago, it meant paintings of squares. Today it means ‘insanity’. Yeah, since the advent of pop art and postmodernism, art has apparently gone from being an outlet for tortured poets, to something practiced exclusively by mad scientists. How else do you explain deranged social experiments like…?

8
The Suicide Sculpture
Chris-Burden-Shoot
You could write an entire article titled ’10 Reasons Chris Burden was Crazier than a Shithouse Rat’ and still have plenty of examples to spare. For one, he once asked a friend to shoot him with a rifle (which the ‘friend’ then did); while another bout of insanity saw him nail himself to his car—a feat so uniquely crazy, David Bowie wrote a song about it.
But the absolute most-lunatic stunt he ever pulled was in 1975. Interested to see at what point an audience might intervene, he placed himself under a glass sheet next to a clock and lay there completely immobile. The plan was to not move until a visitor to the gallery got worried and tried to help him, but here’s the kicker: they didn’t. Even after Burden had crapped his pants and gone nearly two days without water, people just nodded politely and left him to it. The only reason his desiccated corpse isn’t still lying there now is because a gallery attendant got nervous and left a glass of water next to him: at which point Burden finally cracked and ended the show.

7
Visual LSD
The Flicker
Most of us who hear the words ‘video art’ instinctively turn and run as fast as we can from whoever said them, but Tony Conrad’s work is a little different. While it’s not exactly The Godfather, or even Godfather Part III, it aims to do something no mainstream blockbuster ever would: give you acid-trip hallucinations.
You read that right: the entire purpose of his 1966 film ‘The Flicker’ was to send the viewer into a state of advanced schizophrenia (for the love of God, DO NOT click that link if you suffer from epilepsy). Featuring nothing more than flickering lights projected in a darkened room, the experience was said to be such a ‘trip’ that it acted as visual LSD, giving rise to all sorts of crazy visions. This being the 60's, people loved it—leading to a whole heck-load of imitators: including Paul Shartis’ ‘TOUCHING’—which went one sense further by screwing with your hearing as well.

6
Tempting the Internet #1
Stelarc Splitbody
Given what we know about the internet, it’s safe to assume the last thing any of us would want to do is plug ourselves into it—unless we wanted to spend the rest of our lives as the abused plaything of remorseless teenagers on 4Chan. Yet, in 1995, performance artist Stelarc did just that. Inserting electrodes into his muscles, Stelarc wired himself up to a network that allowed members of the public in Amsterdam, Paris or Helsinki to literally manipulate him from afar. By touching a button, they could cause his limbs to spasm on command or even move independently of the artist’s will. Surprisingly, participants didn’t use this chance to make him repeatedly punch himself in the balls or dance Gangnam style around the auditorium for twelve hours straight and Stelarc survived. In fact, he enjoyed it enough to do the whole thing a second time.

Seems as though my Blogger isn't allowing me to post the whole article I've listed it below:
listverse.com/2013/05/31/8-crazy-experiments-passed-off-as-art/

Friday, 31 January 2014

Artist: Alphonse Mucha and Rebecca Guay

Rebecca Guay: Creator of IMC

Hellooo everyone, this post is just an update of what I'm currently working on. 
Creator and professor at IMC, Rebecca Guay creates beautifully delicate illustrations. Rebecca Guay is an artist specializing in watercolor painting and illustration. She is mostly known for her work commissioned by Magic: The Gathering,[1] White Wolf Publishing, and DC Vertigo comics, World of Warcraft TCG, Wizards of the Coast, Dungeons & Dragons and Bella Sara TCG.


Her painting style is reminiscent of master artist and illustrator, Alphonse Mucha.

But I love how she's brought a hint of that style and art history to the science fiction/fantasy world of today.
Moon and Stars by Alphonse Mucha is a depict piece that involves nature as well as symbolism and myths portrayed in the form of a woman. Like I explained in my last post on 'Mother Nature' this is what I want my work to come into in my Final Major Project, as I feel not only does it show illustration but also art history.
Music by Alphonse Mucha, is another great example of including all the topics of research but just in one final piece. As you can see the colours wears off from the figure and into the background and foreground giving the figure a sense of purpose.

Like a dream, art both is and isn't true. Both offer a challenge to the tyranny of realism, replacing what is with what might be. Both generate an altered state of consciousness removed from the humdrum – and both lend themselves to interpretation. 

Sunday, 26 January 2014

Mother Nature


Hellooo everyone, seems as though i'm piecing together my research by including the fantasy personification of how Mother Nature has its ways, i'm just going to do a small post to show you my point of view that would make my work more interesting by taking a different approach and thinking outside the box.

Mother Nature (sometimes known as Mother Earth) is a common personification of nature that focuses on the life-giving and nurturing aspects of nature by embodying it in the form of the mother.

Images of women representing mother earth, and mother nature, are timeless. In prehistoric times, goddesses were worshiped for their association with fertility, fecundity, and agricultural bounty.

I love Mother Nature’s Autumn art; growing up  I got the privilege to see it year after year due to the uncanny English weather.  What amazes me so is there is such beauty in death because as the leaves slowly die and fall off the trees, they turn a magnificent array of earthly tones: brown, orange, yellow and red; soon to die and fall to the earth to create another picturesque scene.  The scene I am talking about comes on many calendars. You know the pumpkin patches with the piles of leaves next to them or maybe a child popping their head out of that pile.  The colonial stone walls with dead leaves laying in piles waiting to be picked up by the town leaf sucker, with magnificent toned trees and soft blue skies painting a picture of peaceful serenity.

For those that like more landscape type pictures of Mother Nature (like me), take the rolling hills of the south countrysides. They are donned with yellow, orange, red and brown leaves filling the gaps of the eyes’ perspective, with maybe a patch of grass visible showing a bale of hay or maybe a rickety old fence. There might even be a classic church with a huge white steeple penetrating the horizon of the trees. 

Yes, Mother Nature can create paintings in nature that can suit any art lover’s fancy; but you can’t buy her art, that’s the only downfall.  Mother Nature isn't like most artists; she wants you to take her art with you by taking pictures of it, and reproducing her work with your brush and canvas.

Wednesday, 22 January 2014

Experimentation of materials ~ Pathway Stage


Helloooo everyone!!

Been a busy week so far at experimenting with different materials for my chosen pathway. 
Basically I've began to explore techniques, processes and techniques in order to develop responses and therefore produce ideas.

Here, I am going to show you the couple of technique responses I have made in my sketchbook:

























This dark mountain was an interpretation of the turbulent moods that Constable creates in his paintings. The materials I have used are ink and water, I find that in using these materials you will succeed in achieving the dark against light contrast, which can be done so easily.


























This interpretation was made against thorough research of McNeill Whistler's sketches. I have only used biro as I wanted to achieve the layered textured look from the landscape upwards.


























The industrial aspect of this piece was shadowed by the storm approaching in the skies, in order to create the dark shadows I used ink as it shows the perfect harmony between the lighting beyond the sky and the reflection in the water. I had also used pastel to determine texture within the water of that of the approaching storm in order to make the balance.


























Again, I have done a scene that would be able to capture the light as well as the perception of objects in the foreground. The materials I have used are emulsion, pastel, watercolour, ink, biro and colour pencils. Seems as though Turner like to contradict light and the experimental use of colour in his late paintings, I had tried to use the reverse translation from black to white and into colour for detail but as I started to ignore colour; I experimented with monochromatic textures and lines instead.


























Finally, one experimental drawing that distinguishes the dark by a varying luminance as the sky.
The image above is what you can see in the background as I found it rather clever to use this drawing as a 'backdrop' whilst I concentrated on two flaps on top. In these two flaps I used pastel and rubbed watered down emulsion to create a mood that is less complex than the abstract raw dark lined skies. I'd found this experiment to be very enjoyable because no matter how harsh I used the materials, the emulsion made sure that everything was drifting in effect of colour that is used in terms of light.

Sunday, 12 January 2014

Contextual Study Response..

'The Canyon Pass'














Hii,
So last week I had found out that we had to produce a piece that was a personal response to the artists work (critical studies). The artists that I had looked at were John Constable, William Turner and McNeill Whistler, so in turn i had decided to combine all the techniques they had used like the heavy pastel rain cloud interpretation of the sky (Turner), the texture brushwork in the foreground (Constable) and the minimal detail used in illuminating colors by McNeill Whistler.

In order to create a symphony of all three artists i'd noted down their use of materials, processes, techniques and equipment that they had used and tried to compare it against my own. Without trying to fully replicate their work I had used my own techniques and chose a slightly different location as Constable and Turner both focus on landscapes whereas Whistler focuses on moral allusion, finding a parallel between painting and music, Whistler titled many of his paintings "arrangements", "harmonies", and "nocturnes", emphasizing the primacy of tonal harmony.

Turner at the Tate

Turner, Moonlight, a Study at Mill bank, exhibited 1797. 
"A penny for the old guy. The original London Eye wasn't a Ferris wheel on the Thames, but J.M.W. Turner, whose visual genius and all-encompassing vision engulfed everything in its path." Until the electroshock treatment applied by Francis Bacon, generations of British painters were subsumed by him. Paying obeisance to the great man is both a duty and a delight when visiting The Tate, and now the Turner galleries have been completely rehung for the first time since the mid-Nineties.

He was born on Shakespeare’s birthday in Covent Garden and carried the wrong accent all his life. When Constable, the other great landscapist of the era, met him for the first time, he said that Turner was uncouth, “as expected,” but had a great mind. Indeed. In the new galleries one of the most fascinating rooms pairs six or eight Constables with various Turners. Born within a year of each other, in 1775 and 1776, Turner was the precocious meteor and Constable the plodder.

At 21 and 22 Turner made his first Royal Academy pictures, both depictions of moonlight, a notoriously difficult illumination to capture on canvas. You have to lean in to squint at the astonishing detail that he has carefully inscribed in subtle shades of black and brown, a really virtuoso effect.

Turner, Snow Storm: Hannibal and his Army Crossing the Alps, exhibited 1812.
The most remarkable account tells of Turner setting up several canvases in a row to work on simultaneously. He did this by applying one color of paint to each canvas, going down the line one after another. Then he’d pick up a second color, return to the first canvas, and apply it down the line until the works were done — or almost done.
The twentieth century was much taken with the way he prefigured Impressionism and modern abstraction (a claim that makes some art scholars huffy, since Turner’s aim wasn't the same as Monet’s or Whistler’s or Graham Sutherland’s), so it’s a surprise to realize that his genius was market-minded, practical, and even conventional in choosing subjects.

These new galleries are a delight because they are intelligently arranged and contain descriptive notes beside each painting that are interesting, and devoid of art-speak.

But he never bores and always amazes me standing before the sea. Turner made the ocean so turbulent, filled not just with storm-tossed waves but violence, wreckage, sea monsters, glorious galleons, rust buckets going to their grave, even howling blizzards like a frost-bitten Last Judgment — in short, a whole world floating in watery dreams. In comparison with my last post of one of the pieces I had done over Christmas 'Thunder Waves' which was mainly inspired by Turner, and how he managed to compose fantasy and nature and make the correlation flow in each of his paintings.

Bringing form out of chaos while keeping the thrill of chaos was his unique achievement. At the end of his life Leonardo da Vinci attempted the same thing, but in miniature, when he filled notebooks with sketches of running water. Nature’s eddies are fascinating because they capture the eye without allowing the eye to rest on anything tangible, much less grasp it. Some commentators have been baffled by Leonardo’s obsession and consider it, politely, a huge waste of time and talent. In Turner’s hands, the impossible was achieved beyond anything Leonardo left behind. Snow, wind, and steam pass ghost-like through our existence. Turner makes them as haunting as they really are, poised all around the solidity of everyday things. Like light, the most mystifying elements in Nature are fleeting and uncapturable. But Turner was a master of light, too, a notoriously difficult illumination to capture on canvas.


The beginning is always today..

http://www.bing.com/images/search?q=sunrise+in+liverpool&qs=AS&sk=&FORM=QBIR&pq=sunrise%20in%20li&sc=6-13&sp=1&qs=AS&sk=#view=detail&id=ED8FC7B10A89CBADFE5EB2EF9739EEC1252599BE&selectedIndex=15














Hello everyone,
 It's the start of the second week after Christmas, I just thought this post would just show you what I've been getting up to over those two weeks off!

As you all know I like to start my posts off with a resembling quote of what I would like to discuss today so as you can see the title says, "The beginning is always today", basically I have to say that I am faced with a new beginning of 2014 and there's the motivation of getting stuck into my own way of working towards the pathway stage.

SO...over the holidays I began to paint again, not the deadline kind of quick paint to paper kind of thing but the full Monty of detail :) Which was a relief to me as I could express my own style, techniques and way of working without having the pressure of meeting a deadline. I had also got the motivation to start my contextual study before we broke up so I could concentrate on other things that I was looking at spending my time on getting stuck into a new book etc...

Below is some of the work that distracted but also prepared me for the work I was yet to expect:
'Autumn Fire'
Was the first inspiration and motivation to produce the other two, the materials I have used are acrylic, oil, drawing inks and Biro detailing. The reason behind the name was because the of what the colors represent as a season as well as the whole meaning of the painting. The trees were the most significant as it portrays further knowledge to the changes of seasons as well as natures intrigues. 

I haven't actually give this one a name yet, but i'm open to suggestions! With this one I had wanted to change the way I work completely by going ahead with ranges of palette knives and going crazy...In this painting I've tried to express some of the techniques I've only used within my experimentation as I find that working out of my comfort zone shows my skills and confidence in trying out new things.

'Thunder Waves'
Inspired by the heavy brushwork and chaotic detailing of William Turner. This was mainly produced on the final week before we broke up as my head was buzzing with information from my contextual study and the artists i had based it around: John Constable, William Turner, David Hockney, and James McNeill Whistler.