Archive for October, 2018

Sculpture by the Sea 2018

Sculpture by the sea at Bondi is always a feast for the eyes – the sculptures of course, the stunning location, and the people. People relaxed and happy, out for a few hours of entertainment and fun in the sun/rain/cloud/buffeting wind/… I’m also watching myself of course – what is drawing my attention, what about it is attracting me?

Sculpture Inside Gallery

The Sculpture Inside gallery is a fascinating place. I think all of the artists showing there also have large works outside (occasionally in a different year). It’s the scale I work at, so there’s a familiarity. There’s often more freedom and a sense of spontaneity. Safety and gravity aren’t such concerns. Cost in effort and resources is less. Some pieces appear to be maquettes, some are simplifications with similar ideas to the large sculptures, some seem to be basically scaled versions (often produced in multiples, at a more approachable price point than the large works), some appear unrelated other than being from the same hands and mind.


Mikaela Castledine’s Feral installation included 15 pieces placed around a wide area in a small gully. The same crocheted polypropylene was used in her small sculptures. There’s a simplification, but on their plinths the inside cats have personality and attitude.


Wassily Kandinsky
Landscape: Dunaberg near Murnau
1913

vanishing cultures by Stephen Hogan I find very exciting. Perhaps not surprising given my ongoing interest in diagonal lines
– for example by Kandinsky (see 15-Oct-2018). Then there’s the recycled steel rod – linking to my welded Germination II (30-Jun-2017). The base of the sculpture is a number of triangles pieces, which together with the poles create a dynamic mood, but the pagoda/gateway effect of recycled forged steel bracket from a horse dray stabilises the work and gives a serenity. Calming and energising. Hogan’s large work outside is much more placid and stable. It frames the constantly moving waves, but doesn’t respond to them. I felt detached, not drawn in.

Barbara Licha
CBD

I didn’t photograph Barbara Licha’s inside sculpture. It was a much simplified version of the same idea, and had much less impact than the large sculpture. For me there was a disconnect in the artist’s statement, which refers to the beauty of Sydney and a desire to make us conscious of where we are. Those caged, twisted forms under the city seem more tortured than happily occupying the space.

Itamar Freed
the kiss (study of auguste rodin)

This small work by Itamar Freed was 3D printed. It’s an interesting modern take on a well-known classic. The figures, clothed in modern dress, appear much more energetic to me than the languorous forms of Rodin’s marble. Male and female have swapped positions in a modern twist. Freed has created an edition of 20, plus 5 artists proofs – taking advantage of the modern technology. I find it interesting and a “proper” use of technology – unlike the AI portrait recently sold at Christies (https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/shortcuts/2018/oct/26/call-that-art-can-a-computer-be-a-painter).

Moving outside now…

Sandra Pitkin
Wave Within

Sandra Pitkin
Wave Within (detail)

Beautifully detailed and crafted work from Sandra Pitkin. The wave motif is clear, especially in this location. The artist’s statement references an integration of neural activity within the waves, and our inseparable part in nature.

Lucy Barker
Outlet (detail)

Lucy Barker
Outlet

Lucy Barker provides quite a different kind of detail. The materials listed for this work are bamboo, salvages electrical cables, bronze. The artist sees this as “a means to rewire and decode our problem of mindless waste”.

Sheltered in the shadow of a rocky overhang, the work looks like an unworldly cocoon. Again, beautiful detail and complexity of surface.

Eric Green
Tetrahedron (detail)

Eric Green
Tetrahedron

Which has me questioning myself about this work by Eric Green. I was attracted to it by the detail. The form seems odd – busy, complex, almost ungainly. The finish close up is so unusual. It looks really rough. Honestly, it looks like my welding. Most of the metal sculptures in the show are beautifully finished, ground down cleanly, often a mirror finish. The artist’s statement is basically about geometric form.

It was curiosity, trying to decipher what I was seeing, that texture, that led me closer to the work. Obviously that “no trace of the maker’s hand” of lots of other works isn’t the point. I feel conflicted. I normally make approving noises about good craftsmanship. Clearly that’s not the point in this work, there’s a different approach, prioritisation, train of thought. I like messy, lively work. Is it the the thick paint that bothers me? Somehow I find this work unsettling. Which makes it interesting.

Leo Loomans
Icarus Rising (detail)

Leo Loomans
Icarus Rising

Back on safe ground here.
Lots of detail and interest, voids and shadow. Even a classical motif. Interesting, powerful, satisfying, I find more each time I look at it.

Andrew Rogers
Embrace

“Hold closely in one’s arms; form not anchored by weight; motion within, rhythms, lustrous sheen.” (artist’s statement).

Complexity and detail. Polished and precise – a little too perfect and manicured perhaps. Balanced movement.

It’s getting long and late, so a quick slideshow.

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Deborah Halpern
The Face

Finally, simply – joyful and fun.

Sampling

This is basically an update from my Components and Sampling post a few weeks ago (1-Oct-2018). Little bits of this and that, hopefully not signifying nothing. I’ve decided to go with what’s exciting me most first, rather than chronological.

Leno
The Anni Albers book (20-Oct-2018) has me buzzing. I had to put the book down and get something into my hands. How’s this for a potential component?

This was done off-loom, held in my hands for ultimate flexibility. That worked quite well for the twined sections, but the leno got a bit wild.

The detail shot below is on a 1 cm grid, to give an idea of scale. Most of the wire is 28 gauge, with a heavier wire used in the header and the actual cross of the leno.

Yesterday for the first time in a long time, I dressed a loom. Well… I’m using the 4 shaft Robinson loom as a frame, not involving a reed or shafts, not putting great tension on the 28 gauge wire. So far the wire is looped on (a variant of a technique I saw long ago on quick dressing a rigid heddle loom), and held in order with a couple of rows of twining at each end. I carried two wires together, bare copper and silver-coated, with ideas of some colour and weave experimenting. The plan is to do everything using pick-up techniques.

Can I get the structure, the variation and interest I want, with tension sufficient to help me working and keep from tangles while loose enough to keep it dynamic and flowing?

It’s on a brief pause at the moment while I make space on my work table, to move the loom from the side bench which doesn’t have great light (there used to be enough there, but something’s changed over the years 🙂 ).

Looping experiments
Different gauges of wire.
The red is 12 gauge aluminium from Apack. The heavier brass colour 20 gauge (anonymous, from the stash). The finer one is actually brass, 0.5 mm (about 24 gauge), A&E metals. The fine “silver” is 28 gauge coated copper wire from Over the Rainbow (polymerclay.com.au/).

All of these were very easy to use, with no complaints from the joints (although keeping in mind these are small samples, each using one wingspan of wire).

The resulting “fabric” is quite easy to form and manipulate, and holds shape well in most directions.

Going dimensional.
Beautiful, bouncy, like unintelligible handwriting. In fact this is looping, with each loop upwards pulled through a little, twisted and bent 90 degrees to make it thoroughly three dimensional. The wire is 24 gauge “black reel wire” from Apack. I think it’s annealed steel (from the person who told me about the supplier), but can’t be sure. No signs of rust. Soft and easy to use. The fabric created holds shape very well, and all those projecting loops look full of potential for building further or embellishing.

Crochet
This is more of the 0.5 mm brass, using crochet. It’s a denser fabric. There’s a sort of dimensional corrugation with the rows worked back and forward, but overall it looks a little heavy and stable – not dynamic and lively. The killer is that I got some thumb joint pain even in this small piece. Not something I’m likely return to – certainly not with this gauge wire.

Twining
In wire.
The beginning of some twining, working in 28 gauge wire.

In structure and in technique (the thumb flip) just what Mary Hettmansperger taught using waxed linen (17-Sep-2018). This is much more open, and of course holds shape well without reinforcement with mod podge.

It’s meant to be semi-mindless work to cope with TV-watching (I’m no good with tension – if the music changes to a buildup, I dutifully get scared). However I’m finding it a little fine for that – I need good light (hmm… a connection with earlier comments???).

For painting.
The first of these little pots was seen 1-Oct-2018. My technique has definitely improved with the second, larger pot. The lid is domed because I made it a bit big 🙂 . It’s been languishing a few weeks now. I’m hoping the alteration of proportions will let me do more of a slice down the height of the inspiration painting.

Folding
Pretty much on a whim, I recently bought The Art of the Fold: How to make innovative books and paper structures by Hedi Kyle and Ulla Warchol. I have lots of paper around, sketches and prints and experiments that have piled up. Perhaps I could fold them, transform them into something more satisfactory. Lovely book – good instructions and diagrams, techniques and structures that get reused, elaborated, extended, as the projects progress. Lots of great inspiration photographs.

My first attempt (apart from familiarisation bits on plain paper): a pocket accordion with separate cover.

So small and pretty! About 10 cm high, 5.5 or so wide. Very satisfying. While not apparent to others, I particularly like the refreshing and encapsulating of memories. The cover is leftovers from a class with Adele Outteridge (25-Jul-2014). The inside pages are from a large sheet of cartridge paper. I went back through months of photos to identify it – from a printmaking session back in 2016 (24-Jul-2016). That detective side excursion on a side excursion was a pleasure and revelation in itself – so many exhibitions, and travels, and classes, and so, so much making! Even the little inserts capture memory. I don’t know if you can see in the photo the inserts are paint cards, and one colour has been selected for the bathroom wall – but not my bathroom. In a class with Keith Lo Bue last year (23-Apr-2017), there was an exercise where we each put three things we’d brought onto a table, and we each selected three things from other people to use as raw material. My final choice, with not much left on the table – the rather uninspiring paint cards. A fairly random moment resurfaced, memorialised, made special.

Book: Anni Albers

Anni Albers, edited by Ann Coxon, Briony Fer and Maria Müller–Schareck, has been published by Tate Publishing on the occasion of the current Anni Albers exhibition at Tate Modern.

All the reviews I’ve read of the exhibition are glowing. The book is much more than a catalogue, with a series of strong essays delving into different aspects of Albers and her work. I found each of the essays fascinating, enlightening, thought provoking.

dimensional weave sample 20160708

Brenda Danilowitz writes of the paradox of the linear grid of weaving and Alber’s non-linear surfaces. “Her work captures her determination … to undermine the grid, to make it virtually disappear by twisting and looping its threads.” (p 87) Different, but this resonated with my past explorations of the grid, depth in weaving and the orthogonal (gathered together in the page orthogonal).

When discussing Albers as a collector, Jennifer Reynolds-Kaye concludes “When considering the objects she collected alongside the art that she produced, the distinctions between ancient and modern, thread and clay, art and artefact, are productively dismantled.” (p. 109) That breadth of interest and vision, the ability not just to find connections but to take ideas from one domain to another and enrich all, seems very important to me.

Previously I only knew of Albers in the context of weaving. Nicholas Fox Weber’s essay introduced me to the printmaking Albers did later in life. “Albers was perpetually on the watch for processes she did not yet know, for unprecendented ways of utilising known techniques for new purposes.” (p. 153) The words Process, Transformation, Universal, Timeless, vibrate. Albers had a love of making, and I’d add a curiosity, that led to remarkable innovation and achievement. Ann Coxon provided the final essay, discussing Alber’s artistic legacy, and quotes Albers’ own words: “Experimental – that is, searching for new ways of conveying meaning – these attempts to conquer new territory even trespass at times into that of sculpture.” (p. 167) A path I would love to follow.

For me this book, Albers’ work, is exciting, inspiring, invigorating. It’s not that I wasn’t aware of her in the past.

Only last month I had the chance to examine two of her free-hanging room dividers in the MoMA at NGV exhibition (15-Sep-2018). I didn’t include my blurry photos then, but now I am emboldened by seeing what appear to be the same two works pictured in the new book (p.39) – my brush with fame! Innovative materials, a twist on familiar weave structures.

lace & finger manipulated sampler

My own student sample of spanish lace from ten years ago (24-Aug-2008) has none of Albers’ grace and precision, but in combination has me hankering to experiment in wire.

An aside: I do love having this blog to refer back to. While writing this post I’ve gone back to a previous book review – Bauhaus weaving theory: From feminine craft to mode of design by T’ai Smith (31-Jan-2015). I obviously had a struggle back then, but I’ve just got the book out and hope to give it another go. Smith also has a contribution in the new book.

I posted about Albers’ own book On Weaving 13-October-2012. (That book too is now in the pile on my work table). “Excited” is one of my favourite words (and sensations), and clearly I felt it then. I like my venture into unconventional “drawing media”!

One major impact of the new book is from the comprehensive, high-quality photographs. Smith’s book has some small colour plates, the copy I have of Albers’ book has a decent page size, a few colour plates, but most of the photos are in black and white on rather soft, fuzzy paper. The new book shows some of the same works, and many more, in photographs that are larger, crisper, and all colour. They are thrilling. I had no idea the range and inventiveness of her work.

I’ve already begun some new experiments – still working with components, still in my current palette of materials – inspired by this book. Albers work of course is key, but it’s an extension of that and a real pleasure to have such interesting writing to accompany it.

Exhibition: Masters of Modern Art from The Hermitage

A first peek at this exhibition at AGNSW. It opened on Saturday, mum and I just happened to be at the gallery (an excellent lecture by Susannah Fullerton), so we went for a quick reconnoitre.

It’s an interesting comparison and companion to the recent MoMA at NGV (15-Sep-2018). Both exhibitions start in the 1880s, but only a few at AGNSW go beyond the First World War compared to the up-to-the-minute NGV. I think all the works at AGNSW are wall-based paintings and drawings, while the NGV included sculpture, textiles, film, furniture and industrial products. The NGV felt like an illustrated book on the History of Modern Western Art, with very few artists represented more than once. The AGNSW exhibition is much more focused, and my initial impression is that it is more idiosyncratic as many of the works were originally selected by a small number of private collectors. And that, I think, could be this new exhibition’s strength – that it isn’t scholarly and balanced and broad, that there is passion and partisanship, that it has space and material for eight works by Matisse, eight by Picasso, four each by Kandinsky, Derain and I think Cezanne (with the inclusion of “our” painting). More visits will test my theories.

For now, a taster with a few works that particularly caught me.

Georges Dupuis
Notre Dame embankment, Le Havre
1908

Wassily Kandinsky
Landscape: Dunaberg near Murnau
1913

Henri Matisse
Woman on a terrace
1906

The images above are from https://www.arthermitage.org/, and like all images are pale and dull imitations of the originals. The texture, the play of light, the sense of scale, the feeling of sharing space with the artists… for those, get yourself to Sydney (it closes 3 March 2019).

The selection in this post shows my current passion and partisanship. Colour, contour, drawing. The energy and excitement of diagonal lines. From the website on the work by Matisse: “Like colour, drawing is an important element in the painting and plays an active role in the rhythmic organisation of the picture surface.
“Giving an energetic outline to the horizontal balustrade, the yachts on the water, the soft hills and comfortable figure of his wife, Matisse creates a world in which we feel both the beat of the pulse of life, and majestic calm.”

Somehow that, and Jane’s “drawing” of a shirt (14-Oct-2018), and all my recent experiments and components… there’s something there pulling me…

Exhibition: Make Your Mark

This is the inaugural exhibition at the new White Rhino Artspace. The exhibition “celebrates creative expression as a valuable tool in promoting wellbeing and community spirit.” There are works by 13 contemporary female artists, mediums including sculpture, textiles, installation, and paintings.

The team behind White Rhino consists of three women, all of them showing works in the exhibition. On the opening night the rooms were packed and there was a great buzz and positive atmosphere. It was exciting and inspiring to see the support and energy they have generated.

Caroline Kronenberg: Shadows
Caroline presented three works – a bamboo sculpture and two A2 sized framed photographs. The sculpture was one of a series created in collaboration with a bamboo master during a residency in Thailand. The seed-pod form was inspired by local fish traps. I was very interested in the photographs shown, and especially Caroline’s statement that this documentation was of the shadows, the cast mark of the form.

This idea of documenting and extending work was also seen in Matthew Bromhead’s drawing (22-Jul-2018). I thought I’d documented a lot of shadows in my own work, but a quick search of the blog didn’t turn up any evidence on that. Something to bring to the fore in the future.

Jane Bodnaruk: Holding by the seams

Jane’s work here references the roles of women sustaining and maintaining their families – the repetition, the joys, the tedium, the traces we leave of our voyage. I’ve shown some of Jane’s work before (13-Nov-2016) which explored the journey of women convicts on the first fleet. It’s interesting to see the themes of women, the domestic, tedium, responsibilities, developed in different ways.

Chatting with Jane at the opening I was particularly taken with her comments on the highly deconstructed shirt. She thought about how to make it a drawing of a shirt. Fascinating.

Christine Wiltshire: Strung, not unravelling mistakes

Christine “works with, and at times subverts, the traditional rule based conventions of hand knitting, whilst considering the generative potential of unintentional made mistakes. These mistakes occur randomly and often mark the site of an internal or external distraction of the maker.” In the exhibited pieces, rather than going back to a mistake and fixing it, Christine changed material (cotton and nylon threads), improvised any adjustments (for example to get the number of stitches the pattern expected), and continued knitting.

Christine explained to me that she deliberately chooses to use techniques in which she is not highly proficient, that she finds awkward or difficult. Some of that is an interest in the development of muscle memory, but there is also opening up oneself to making mistakes, to see what happens. In an earlier work Christine used cross stitch. At first she unravelled the piece entirely whenever she made a mistake in the pattern and started again. Realising this could leave her with very little to exhibit, Christine adjusted her brief so that she stopped working on a piece and began fresh with each mistake. Some attempts were abandoned quickly, one or two advanced much further, but I don’t think any were “completed”. There is so much to think about here – the nature of work, particularly repetitive (women’s) work, perfection, learning, “finished”, enough…

Ruth Hadlow (mentioned many times in this blog) has been a significant influence on Christine. I think this can be seen in the clarity Christine shows about her focus and interest, the rules or briefs which she sets herself, the open-ended outcomes she welcomes.

Tracy Stirzaker: Double wedding rings: something blue
Tracy is one of the three partners in White Rhino. I wrote about her solo exhibition in Lane Cove earlier this year (25-Mar-2018).

Tracy’s artist statement references Irish philosopher and poet David Whyte who writes of Three Marriages – to another, to work, to self. The wedding rings here refer to the marriage to oneself, the importance of commitment to oneself, and Tracy’s research into anxiety, depression, and self-worth.

The idea of the Three Marriages is new to me, but it’s an interesting experiment to try to declare “I am enough”. It’s about on a par with “I am an artist”.

Workshop: Kintsugi for Modern Life with Naomi Taplin

This four hour workshop was held in the calm beauty of Studio Enti in Darlinghurst, where ceramicist Naomi Taplin sells her porcelain tableware, lighting and home decor – functional and beautiful.

Kintsugi is a traditional Japanese art, repairing broken ceramics with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold or silver. It’s a philosophy that treats the breakage and repair as part of the history of the object, valuing these signs of use, celebrating them, finding a new level of beauty.

Angela’s Bowl
Repaired by Naomi Taplin

Pictured here is work by Naomi for the Object Therapy exhibition.

After a brief introduction to the technique and its history Naomi demonstrated her modern take, using today’s glues and metallic powders. There were lots of options to think about. My personal leaning is towards raised, scar-like veins, others were drawn to fine, smooth traceries.

We all started with small, low, white dishes that Naomi had pre-broken into 3 or 4 pieces. There’s some delicate timing involved, waiting for the precise moment when the glue’s consistency is “right”, moving quickly to apply it, then some more waiting, holding steady.

Some people had brought their own broken objects to work on. Most of us selected from a table of possibilities provided by Naomi. In a burst of bravado I chose a large, quite thick plate that had come out of the kiln in three pieces. The pieces were a bit warped, and would never fit together neatly. Naomi brainstormed with me on possible approaches that treated the gaps as an opportunity.

Two batches of glue later – both set on the work surface before I could apply glue to plate – and I was ready to admit defeat. Instead Naomi came and assisted, we each worked on one side of the first join, then brought them together. I chose to limit the amount of finishing and cleaning. The final piece has in my eyes a robust, unabashed, quirky character, and refinement would be misplaced. It’s unusual, not obvious, but satisfying. So far people look at it, have a little think, then decide they like it.

And a comparison photo to see the different sizes.

This class was a step away from my main areas of interest, but I think there are definite possibilities to integrate some of the techniques and ideas into other work I’m doing.

Naomi has more classes scheduled, and I’d definitely recommend it if you’re nearby.

Components, sampling

It’s a freeing thing, working with components. No expectations of outcome – it’s just creating options for future making. Experimenting with a new skill is fine – wobbly technique in one small part of a whole won’t be obvious, and “flaws” may hold exciting potential to take advantage of later. Follow a chain of thought and making, see where it takes you, respond to what’s in front of you.

Why do we need permission to play?

Mary Hettmansperger
Work has continued on items begun in Mary’s workshops (17-Sep-2018). I’ve also ordered a couple of her books, here soon I hope.

The looping on a 3D leaf shape is complete.

The twining sample has grown.

On the aviary wire form, the knotting has been following by twining, including some colour mix experiments with brass wire combined with the waxed linen.

I’ve also had a session working through techniques with metal which Mary demonstrated. In the class I took lots of notes, but wanted to do the experimenting at home with my own setup and materials. Lots more to be done here.

Coiling, painting, van Gogh
An image of a painted basket on instagram combined in my head with a painting by van Gogh in the John Russell: Australia’s French impressionist exhibition currently on in the Art Gallery of NSW.

Vincent van Gogh
Bank of the Seine

Yay! to the van Gogh museum for providing great photos plus easily available, generous and understandable copyright policy.

Boo! to me, not able to trace the instagram photo that inspired me. Those baskets were painted with abstract blocks of colour, with white painted interiors.

I made a coiled basket. The core was spaghetti yarn from Lincraft, a curled in length of stretchy, fine knitted fabric, 90% cotton, 10% polyester. Stitching was with Sullivan’s paper twine, 50g/32m. Quick and easy work – I love great long lengths of materials with no preparation required! The firm twine pressed into the spongy knit fabric, creating a lovely bobbly texture.

The thing was painted inside and out with gesso. At this point the structure was quite flexible and sagged when damp with the gesso. Reshaping was attempted a couple of times, with limited success. After drying overnight the basket felt firm and strong, no longer flexible.


Originally I planned to paint the watery colours on the outside, then continue inside with colours lifted from the bank in the painting. As it happened I got impatient and tried to complete the outside in one sitting. Colours mixed more than I wanted. If I did this again I would try a layer of underpainting, establishing the base colour areas, wait for it to dry, then do stippling with the wider range of colours.

It’s the way the textured surface of the basket catches little dots of colour that has me excited.

The basket form doesn’t suggest “component” in my mind, so experiments in creating a flat form using coiling followed.

Using the same materials, I found some ways to manage the turn-around at the edges which looked OK. However, the form itself … there’s a fair amount of torque there.

I was thinking of flat panels, building materials. Was the twist a function of the materials used, the knit fabric, the plied twine, or inherent in the technique, that lovely diagonal of stitching, with forces that balance out in the standard circular form?

The next attempt used a very stable braided cord from the hardware store, still stitched with the paper twine. The torque is still there, much reduced. Possibly it could be forced flat when damp, but the price is the loss of that beautiful bobbled texture. Onto the stamping / printing experimentation pile for both of them.

(Not) printmaking
Speaking of which, it looks like I’ve run out of time this long weekend for a print making session. Preparations have continued, but instead of cutting stamps I’ve focused on more basketry techniques.

There are a couple of panels of looping in a chunky, soft, loosely plied cotton yarn from the hardware store. I’m hoping this fabric will print more clearly than the previous looped version in paper covered wire.

At this point I haven’t mounted the pieces onto a backing to form a stamp. Perhaps some interesting partial and folded forms could be made by dropping the pieces onto the print surface.

print p4-15

I’m thinking back to an earlier accident experimenting with printmaking in OCA days (18-Oct-2015).

A final stamping experiment is more looping, this time around a piece of card, simplifying any mounting considerations and taking advantage of the nature of the technique. This is a thick wool yarn, the looping based on a demonstration from Mary Hettmansperger, deliberately making angles and variation, changing up the traditional technique. I should probably seal it before attempting to stamp.

Looping components
Turning from stamps and print-making back to components for future projects, what are some other shapes that could act as a base for looping? Mary has done a lot with a leaf shape, which could be modified to a boat – neither of which fit with the more abstract, geometric vibe of this theoretical future sculpture.

It turns out doodle-ing shapes flat, in gimp or on paper, is hard! After a while I turned to paper covered wire, which was a bit too flimsy, then a heavier wire.

I wanted to create the frame with a single length of wire, no doubling up – like Mary’s leaf. A cube frame just did my head in. The thought chain leading to that started with The Modern Art Notes podcast, https://manpodcast.com/. It’s been going for ages, but a recent find for me, looking for something to listen to while working on slow twining and looping. Turns out when I listen and make at the same time I do both badly. Anyway, Giacometti sometimes used rectangular frames, and in the podcast discussion (No. 353) I think there’s also mention of Francis Bacon. Quite how that enclosing / framing structure became a small component…

Whatever. Moving to triangular forms generated a lot more possibilities – all needing refinement. However the brain has grasshopper-ed away from that to thoughts of looping around a geometric form, which (stroke of genius?) could then be used as a joining element in the sculpture. Think of something like the foam florists use (the dry type for artificial or dried flowers, not the stuff that soaks up water). Cut to shape, paint to colour scheme, cover with looping, then stab wire through when building. I wonder if that stuff is stable over time?

Not having any to hand when the idea hit, instead I looped around a wooden block. There’s still joining component potential, drilling holes as required.

The prototype used 28 gauge black wire. The wooden block was painted orange/red, which keeps it in the colour scheme of the painted yarn created in Mary Hettmansperger’s class, and I think is light enough to show up the dark wire. This photo is a fudge, because I haven’t actually finished the final side of the looping.

The empty looped cube is pretty nice on its own. Possibly not sturdy enough for frequent handling, also less practical as a joining device. But good-looking.

Another experiment using a thicker brass wire (0.5 mm) around a larger rectangular block is in progress. I’ll probably complete that, but I should also play with covering just parts of painted blocks.

All of these things are going on in a huge muddle on my worktable. Picking up one thing, going back to another, brain fizzing with ideas. It feels good to be playing making.


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