Comprehensive list of all things drawing
- some useful blogs, websites, galleries, events, magazines-
Friday, 11 October 2013
Thursday, 29 August 2013
JERWOOD DRAWING PRIZE 2013
My drawing 'After Andrew Catlin' has been selected for the 2013 Jerwood Drawing Prize. There are lots of really wonderful draftsmen and women this year and I'm honoured to be exhibiting with them. Please take a look at the artists below:
http://artupdate.com/en/jerwood-drawing-prize-2013-selected-artists-announced/
http://artupdate.com/en/jerwood-drawing-prize-2013-selected-artists-announced/
Wednesday, 8 May 2013
NEW DRAWINGS FOR LACK SERIES
I've been preparing for my final assessment and degree show so I haven't uploaded anything for a while. But here are the final drawings I've submitted. The series of faceless figures is supposed to represent a contemporary take on the 'Man of Sorrows' genre.
I source all my images from Tumblr and have since discovered that the source photograph for the first image in this column was taken by Andrew Catlin circa 1986 and the second image's source photograph was taken by Larry Clark in 1971.
I source all my images from Tumblr and have since discovered that the source photograph for the first image in this column was taken by Andrew Catlin circa 1986 and the second image's source photograph was taken by Larry Clark in 1971.
Sunday, 7 April 2013
LITHE AND TRANSPARENT
Whilst lying in my cocoon for days I played certain videos on repeat, finding elements within them that related to my work or state of mind.
The heavy lulling rhythm and ephemeral visuals of the film 'The End' by Erik Madigan Heck seemed to mirror the weight within my body and the oppressive mist within my head. I played it over and over letting my mind drift in and out, as if I were privy to someone else's memories being slowly played out in monochrome. I was carried by its haunting serenity and I watched numb as images rose and fell to the swell of the music. Time is engorged in Heck's films and small gestures seem to take on a kind of romantic importance: the tilt of a head, the slight turn of someone's back, the slow twinge of a smile. The translucent overlay of images beautifully embodies the film's opening statement:
"We are a series of transparencies, which begin as material beings and disappear into the world of the immaterial."
http://www.maisondesprit.com/images/galleries/ann_demeulemeester_the_end/video/ann-demeulemeester_the-end.ogv
I also watched an extract from the ballet 'Chroma' performed by Sarah Lamb and Frederico Bonelli. I think the appeal of the piece, to me anyway, is its awkwardness. It presents a paradox because it is graceful and poignant but at the same time the dancer's movements are so angular, their limbs so unflatteringly contorted and out-stretched, devoid of pretense, that the dance is uncomfortable to watch. But this is more to its power. I sometimes become preoccupied with the idea that my drawings should be correct and finished, polished, technically faultless as this will transpire as beauty and worth. Now, however, I'm interested in that awkwardness, exposing the wrestle within the composition, the difficulty in its creation. I think more so than any other performance I've seen, this extract highlights the toil and strain the dancer's bodies endure to create something of substance. More and more I'm coming to regard traditional conceptions of 'beauty' as problematic.
The heavy lulling rhythm and ephemeral visuals of the film 'The End' by Erik Madigan Heck seemed to mirror the weight within my body and the oppressive mist within my head. I played it over and over letting my mind drift in and out, as if I were privy to someone else's memories being slowly played out in monochrome. I was carried by its haunting serenity and I watched numb as images rose and fell to the swell of the music. Time is engorged in Heck's films and small gestures seem to take on a kind of romantic importance: the tilt of a head, the slight turn of someone's back, the slow twinge of a smile. The translucent overlay of images beautifully embodies the film's opening statement:
"We are a series of transparencies, which begin as material beings and disappear into the world of the immaterial."
http://www.maisondesprit.com/images/galleries/ann_demeulemeester_the_end/video/ann-demeulemeester_the-end.ogv
I also watched an extract from the ballet 'Chroma' performed by Sarah Lamb and Frederico Bonelli. I think the appeal of the piece, to me anyway, is its awkwardness. It presents a paradox because it is graceful and poignant but at the same time the dancer's movements are so angular, their limbs so unflatteringly contorted and out-stretched, devoid of pretense, that the dance is uncomfortable to watch. But this is more to its power. I sometimes become preoccupied with the idea that my drawings should be correct and finished, polished, technically faultless as this will transpire as beauty and worth. Now, however, I'm interested in that awkwardness, exposing the wrestle within the composition, the difficulty in its creation. I think more so than any other performance I've seen, this extract highlights the toil and strain the dancer's bodies endure to create something of substance. More and more I'm coming to regard traditional conceptions of 'beauty' as problematic.
Saturday, 6 April 2013
BLACK SUN MOODS
I haven't written in a while. I'm still working, still drawing, but with nowhere near the kind of momentum I need. I've almost finished a drawing and I've started a new one but for a multitude of reasons I became despondent; paralyzed by unhelpful thoughts, anxiety mostly. It was strange really, as if I were stuck under a bell jar, something was making my muscles heavy and my whole body ached. I imagined myself waking up the same way Mathieu Amalric does in 'The Diving Bell and the Butterfly': stagnant, contained and barely able to move save one eye that peers up and closes when the magnitude of his crippling situation becomes apparent. Its not the first time its happened but it never ceases to scare me. For the life of me I just. couldn't. get. up. Its a phenomenon Julia Kristeva outlines far more succinctly than I could ever hope to in the opening pages of 'Black Sun':
Stephen Fry explains depression slightly differently, suggesting that although external phenomena can exasperate its affect they aren't nnecessarily its cause. He states:
"To me, mood is the equivalent of weather. Weather is real. That's the important thing to remember about weather. It is absolutely real. When it rains, it rains. It is wet. You get wet. There's no question about it. Its also true about weather that you can't control it. You can't say "if I wish hard enough, it won't rain". But its equally true that if the weather's bad, one day it will get better and what I had to learn was to treat my moods like the weather. On the one hand denying that its there saying "I'm not really depressed, why should I be depressed? I've got enough money, I've got a job, people like me, there's no reason to be depressed", that's the stupidest thing- there's no reason to have asthma or measles, you know you've got it. It's there. Its not about reason. You don't get depressed because bad things happen to you... [it] happens like weather to you inside you. It's not enough to talk yourself out of it... its a mood disorder, akin to weather."
Simply, you just have to ride it out. Listen to your body, your instinct and sit in the pain of it. Its something that psychiatrists call 'containing'. Its painful and its difficult and it hurts but equally, it passes and that's the important thing to remember. Luckily it seems to be lifting.
"To me, mood is the equivalent of weather. Weather is real. That's the important thing to remember about weather. It is absolutely real. When it rains, it rains. It is wet. You get wet. There's no question about it. Its also true about weather that you can't control it. You can't say "if I wish hard enough, it won't rain". But its equally true that if the weather's bad, one day it will get better and what I had to learn was to treat my moods like the weather. On the one hand denying that its there saying "I'm not really depressed, why should I be depressed? I've got enough money, I've got a job, people like me, there's no reason to be depressed", that's the stupidest thing- there's no reason to have asthma or measles, you know you've got it. It's there. Its not about reason. You don't get depressed because bad things happen to you... [it] happens like weather to you inside you. It's not enough to talk yourself out of it... its a mood disorder, akin to weather."
Simply, you just have to ride it out. Listen to your body, your instinct and sit in the pain of it. Its something that psychiatrists call 'containing'. Its painful and its difficult and it hurts but equally, it passes and that's the important thing to remember. Luckily it seems to be lifting.
Thursday, 31 January 2013
LOSS
"Waking up begins with saying 'am' and 'now'. For the past eight months waking up has actually hurt. Cold realization that I'm still here, slowly sets in. I was never terribly fond of waking up. I was never one to jump out of bed and greet the day with a smile like Jim was...only fools could possibly escape the simple truth that now isn't simply now. Its a cold reminder one day later than yesterday, one year later than last year and that sooner or later, 'it' will come. He used to laugh at me and then give me a kiss on the cheek.
It takes time in the morning for me to become George, time to adjust to what is expected of George and how he is to behave. By the time I'm dressed... I know fully what part I am supposed to play. Looking in the mirror, staring back at me isn't so much a face as the expression of a predicament: "Just get through the Goddamn day."
Bit melodramatic I guess but then, my heart has been broken. I feel as if I'm sinking. Drowning. Can't breathe. For the first time in my life I can't see my future. Everyday goes by in a haze. But today, I have decided, will be different."
Opening lines taken from the film 'A Single Man', produced by Tom Ford, adapted from the novel of the same name by Christopher Isherwood.
Sunday, 20 January 2013
LACK BY CHARLIE
http://guru.bafta.org/charlie-kaufman-screenwriters-lecture-video
"I do not know what the wound is, I do know that it is old. I do know that it is a hole in my being. I do know it is tender. I do believe that it is unknowable, or at least unable to be articulable... it is both specific to you and common to everyone. I do believe it is the thing about you that must be hidden and protected... It is the thing that makes you weak and pathetic. It is the thing that truly, truly, truly makes loving you impossible. It is your secret, even from yourself. But it is the thing that wants to live. It is the thing from which your art...your philosophical treatise...is born." Charlie Kaufman
"I do not know what the wound is, I do know that it is old. I do know that it is a hole in my being. I do know it is tender. I do believe that it is unknowable, or at least unable to be articulable... it is both specific to you and common to everyone. I do believe it is the thing about you that must be hidden and protected... It is the thing that makes you weak and pathetic. It is the thing that truly, truly, truly makes loving you impossible. It is your secret, even from yourself. But it is the thing that wants to live. It is the thing from which your art...your philosophical treatise...is born." Charlie Kaufman
Friday, 7 December 2012
THOUGHTS CONCERNING SILENCE
I've been ruminating over the supposed ephemeral nature of loss, lack and silence and I've realized that they actually hold a lot of weight. Silence in particular has a very real physical presence, and obvious paralyzing effect. There's a chaos that stems from being mute, a dizzying and desperate lack of control that comes from the inability to act or speak. If you can't penetrate the wall or reach that far off place, can't establish a connection or touch what is missed, the torment can be unbearable. But silence can also be its own defense:it makes for a potent avoidance tactic. To shut you out, to disengage. Hence there is an inherent power in silence. Silence is as essential to communication and interaction it seems, as negative space is to comprehending form.
I've contemplated to what extent 'lack' is real or imagined, internal, external or even satisfiable. The irony is that once the desperate panic and fear at the prospect of loss relents, (perhaps because the loss is realized) the resulting silence brings its own solace. Silence is both catalyst for the storm and its culminating calm. Sickness and stillness, both loathed and coveted. Lacan once theorized that a picture’s captive power derives from its impotence, that images arouse in us a desire to see what they fail to embody. I found the idea that someone could endeavor to love an echo strangely apt to my own life. Perhaps I'm unwittingly aligning myself with Orpheus! We worship voids for the promise of what if, receiving nothing. Maybe we are more in love with hope than empirical fact. Perhaps pain comes from knowing but being unable to shake the habit.
I've contemplated to what extent 'lack' is real or imagined, internal, external or even satisfiable. The irony is that once the desperate panic and fear at the prospect of loss relents, (perhaps because the loss is realized) the resulting silence brings its own solace. Silence is both catalyst for the storm and its culminating calm. Sickness and stillness, both loathed and coveted. Lacan once theorized that a picture’s captive power derives from its impotence, that images arouse in us a desire to see what they fail to embody. I found the idea that someone could endeavor to love an echo strangely apt to my own life. Perhaps I'm unwittingly aligning myself with Orpheus! We worship voids for the promise of what if, receiving nothing. Maybe we are more in love with hope than empirical fact. Perhaps pain comes from knowing but being unable to shake the habit.
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