Peter Birch : Visual Artist : Sort Of

Funeral for a friend

2009-12-19T18:30:00.000Z

For more than 30 years I've been friends with a guy named Simon.

We raised our families together, went on holidays together, worked on projects together.

More than that, he was an excellent friend and a brilliant 'advisor / counsellor' to me personally.

In the last couple of years, knowing that he was ill gave us both a new sense of purpose to our friendship. All of our conversations were positive ... he seemed never to give in to negativity or despair.

As I've begun to reconfigure my life this year, Simon was supportive, helpful and wise. We were working out how he could take on a role as some sort of advisor / director in the business aspects of what I planned to do.

He met me at the airport when I got back from Brazil in August after he'd just been to the consultant.

That's when he knew he'd run out of road.

Over the next few months we saw each other from time to time and he continued to give me good advice and support ... some of which I'm still thinking about.

During that time I've been distracted and dithering.

But he faded fast and his light went out just over a week ago.

This week I attended his funeral.

Today I realise how much I miss him as a friend and what a gap he leaves in what I want to be and do.

Today I'm finding it hard to find the ground beneath my feet.

2009-12-02T18:24:00.000Z

It's gonna be a lean Christmas.

Lean, lean, lean.

This year everyone will be getting a stick.

The French Connection

2009-11-28T20:35:00.001Z

Outside Cardiff Library a massive piece of modern sculpture is being installed. It's a large arrow-like column with a hoop leaning against it. The hoop will be filled with liquid that will have 'a phosphorous glow' at night. Also at night, projectors installed within the arrow will project words in English and Welsh on to the ground.

It was designed by a Frenchman and is being installed by French engineers.

As you would expect there is some resentment that a Welsh artist wasn't chosen to produce something.

The official blurb says, "The monumental sculpture was commissioned following a national competition to find the right piece of artwork that would fit well within the city and become a new landmark. A total of 120 responses were received from artists across the globe with just 5 artists shortlisted for the opportunity. Jean-Bernard Metais' 'Alliance' was eventually chosen for the task because his response to the brief stood out as the best."

I would quote more but I'm losing the will to live.

So if it was a "national" competition, did that mean Wales or the UK?

Seems it's an irrelevant question because responses were received from around the globe.

Doesn't make sense to me.

Anyway, I've been watching it going up from the 4th floor window of the library, where I sit. The other day the artist and the project manager were sat next to me watching the installation. I was going to chat to them about it but they were talking to each other in French. I can sound like a French person but I can't actually speak French so I left them alone.

When on site, the project manager wore the obligatory hard hat and vis-vest ... but with white wellies! Very French. And at lunch time he and his workers have a glass of wine!

One side of me is cross that there was deemed to be no Welsh proposal that was good enough. But maybe that's because the art-scene in Wales isn't of an international standard. I don't know.

But another side of me thinks it's cool that Wales is a European nation, and Cardiff is a European city, and so this sense of internationalism in the arts may be appropriate.

So maybe I'll start calling myself a European artist.

Especially if it means I can wear white wellies and drink wine at lunch time.

Won't Get Fooled Again

2009-11-25T18:26:00.001Z

When I was a teenager me and my friends used to go to "rock concerts" at Cowbridge Town Hall. The music was loud and the place was packed. We'd usually drunk cider and smoked cigarettes round the back. Down the front, close to the speakers was the place to be. Your ears ringing the next day was the sign it was a good evening.

A friend of mine's Dad had an amazing "hi-fi" system in the back room (kept for best). We used to go there after school (and sometimes when we should have been in school) and play LPs very loud.

The local youth club sometimes had "discos" where we would take our own LPs and dance.

I say dance ...

It was legs apart, head down, hair over ya face and imaginary guitar in hands. Then rock back and fore Status Quo style.

This all came back to me the other day when I was travelling in the car to London. I always listen to music - usually the same thing on repeat for 2 or 3 hours. But I'd recently dug out a CD of The Who's greatest hits. I let it play happily in the background, until it came to "Won't Get Fooled Again". On a whim, I turned it up ... really loud. It was fantastic. All these memories of listening to loud music and dancing crazily came back to me. It was fun.

Then I got sad, and I was sad for the next 3 days.

Why did I stop listening to music really loud?

And when did I stop rockin'?

Probably when I cut my hair.

"eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month"

2009-11-11T14:43:00.007Z

On this Armistice Day, I'd like to read you a poem written by a young Welsh poet, Owen Sheers:

Mametz Wood

For years afterwards the farmers found them -
the wasted young, turning up under their plough blades
as they tended the land back into itself.

A chit of bone, the china plate of a shoulder blade,
the relic of a finger, the blown
and broken bird's egg of a skull,

all mimicked now in flint, breaking blue in white
across this field where they were told to walk, not run,
towards the wood and its nesting machine guns.

And even now the earth stands sentinel,
reaching back into itself for reminders of what happened
like a wound working a foreign body to the surface of the skin.

This morning, twenty men buried in one long grave,
a broken mosaic of bone linked arm in arm,
their skeletons paused mid dance-macabre

in boots that outlasted them,
their socketed heads tilted back at an angle
and their jaws, those that have them, dropped open.

As if the notes they had sung
have only now, with this unearthing,
slipped from their absent tongues.

From Skirrid Hill by Owen Sheers, published by Seren.

2009-10-17T18:46:00.002+01:00

At the end of last week and the beginning of this week I was very frustrated.

I had the studio space lined up ready to work in, I had the research and designs for the sculpture ready and I had the materials I needed to get started.

And then the car broke. It was driveable locally, but it was not up to the 3 hours each way back and fore to the studio.

But it's actually turned out to be a good week, once I came to terms with the fact that I was going to be here and not there.

The weather has been cold but sunny, with the colours of Autumn beginning to show through. Autumn is my favourite season.

Making the most of the weather, I went out drawing most days.

I've been drawing tree trunks again.

There is something, for me, very 'earthing' about standing and sketching.

As I walk I am thinking about all sorts of things, but my eyes are constantly scanning for something interesting to draw. Suddenly, I will see something. Often, I have walked past before my conscious brain has processed what my eyes have registered, so I walk back and look again to see what it was I noticed.

Then I stand, take a breath, and root myself to the spot. The flow of looking, drawing, looking, adjusting, looking, drawing begins and unfolds itself. Sometimes, I think I have finished but I sense I haven't. I stand a little longer and see a little more, and begin working again. A small A6 sketch can take 5 minutes or 20 minutes. I finish when I sense that it's 'enough'.

I have a nearly-full sketch book of tree trunk drawings now and it's interesting to look through to see how my 'style' has developed.

At first I was using pencil. But my mark-making was very tentative and the results were a little too grey and pale for my liking.

Sometimes I use a straightforward black pen (often a cheap biro). This is better, though a little too hard-edged for what I'm drawing and doesn't work so well for shading or softening the lines. I find it technically more challenging.

My favourite is a water-soluble fibre tip pen, with a water-filled brush. I draw in a Daler-Rowney A6 sketch book on 150gsm cartridge paper.

I like to draw the edges and the main features of the tree trunk, and then blur them with the brush. I then work into them, drawing some more, repeating the process.

I'm not creating a 3-dimensional, realistic representation of a tree. I take photos for that.

As I've mentioned before, I see figures in the trees and I gravitate towards the more elegant shapes.

I'm interested in the lines, the shapes, the contours and the curves.

But as I look back I realise that, really, I'm drawing breasts.

The Sculpture Commission

2009-10-12T19:16:00.002+01:00

The sculpture commission came about when we started off chatting about commissioning a painting for his shop. He'd already bought a few pieces off me including a sculpture that he was particularly fond of. He talked about how he connected more with sculpture than with paintings. At the time, we were sitting outside in his large and beautiful garden, and I commented that a sculpture set into the garden would look great. It clicked. And now I'm working hard to construct, complete and install it before the daylight diminishes and the weather turns too harsh for being outdoors. The end of the month is the aim. We'll have a garden party for the viewing.

Being commissioned to produce work like this has been a good process for me. When I work solely for myself (though as I type that I realise how untrue it is) I develop ideas and pick up influences and references as I go. They almost unconsciously weave themselves into my work. There's also had to be a bit more intellectual rigour in putting forward a clear and plausible proposition.

As part of the process I've put together a 30 page, bound document - a mixture of words and images -of my references and research, and sent it to my client. (Jo - we need to get a binding machine for the studio!).

I'm not going to detail the references here, because I'm finding the process to be a highly individual and personal one. But here are some fragments :

The basic concept is of a figure rising up from the earth. I was thinking a lot about it when I was in Brazil and knew I need to do something to get the process started and to have some actual images to work with. I took photos of Neto so I could begin thinking about the shape and structure of the figure. I also found some fashion images of figures in the landscape, where the legs were wrapped in long flowing skirts. This gave me a better idea for a more sculptural shape.

When I was back in the UK, I took a lot of photos and made drawings of trees coming up from the ground, and roots going down into the ground.

For the past year I've been drawing trees and seeing how they resemble the human form. I could see how the myth of Dryads emerged and what a potent idea it was. All of this was working its way into the process.

The base of the figure I will be sculpting will be covered in natural materials - grass, leaves, sticks, stones - elements that I've been working into my paintings for years.

I will be making the sculpture out of materials attached to a wood and wire frame. The size of the figure (about 4ft 6ins) makes this a little more problematical. But again I had references to draw from. Most days I walk by the River Taff where they are constructing a new fish-pass at the weir. Just recently they have been constructing the framework out of wood and metal rods and then pouring concrete. This showed me how I would construct the armature for my figure and attach materials to it (I'll be using fabric soaked in concrete and exterior PVA, with the whole thing being primed and then painted with many coats of white exterior paint - can't wait to get my hands in concrete!).

I'm due to start construction next week in the studio in London and I have most of the materials and tools ready to take.

But my car's knackered. That's the next problem to fix.

Sum Problems

2009-10-05T18:21:00.001+01:00

It's been a bit hectic. As I thought it might be.

I recently had a great weekend with friends in Devon, where we started pooling ideas for a new venture I will be starting soon.

But mainly I've been working on research and studies for the two commissions I'm doing.

I've also been back and fore to London a few times to see people and, last week, to look at a vacant building I am going to use as a studio.

The plans for the sculpture are pretty much complete, so over the next 2 or 3 weeks I will start construction.

There are all sorts of technical and practical problems waiting to be encountered, but I'm trying not to let that put me off. I'll work my way through them.

But the first problem I have is one of size and scale.

And I have a mental block because it's about numbers. And numbers really don't like me. They never have.

When I was in school, I used to copy my maths homework from a brainy friend. I even put in a few deliberate errors so it wasn't too obvious. But the teacher caught on and told me I should be honest about what I didn't understand so he could help me.

So I did my homework honestly for a few weeks.

I got crap marks, the teacher shouted at me and I was moved down to a lower set.

So I went back to cheating. And hating teachers.

Anyway, to this day if I hear a sentence beginning with the words "two trains leave a station at the same time ..." I run for cover.

And don't get me started on two men digging holes.

My brain simply shuts down.

So here's the problem. And I'm sitting here forcing myself to describe it.

The sculpture is to be around 4ft 6 ins tall.

The human figure is 8 heads (see figure below)

I have a long timber post (that's not a euphemism).

I need to mark it up.

How big should each head be (in a nice round number) to make the whole thing approx 4' 6"?

You can figure it out while I go and lie down.

Really.

What's brown and sticky?

2009-09-18T18:30:00.000+01:00

A stick!

(that one still makes me laugh)

I've been working on quite a few pictures (a dozen or so) based in and about Mid Wales. You may remember me mentioning that I work on them on-site and then bring them back to base camp to finish them off.

Recently, I realised that I had run out of the sticks and stones and other bits and pieces that I use in these pictures.

I could have just gone outside and picked up some more.

But oh no.

I had to wait until I was next there and then take a couple of hours to go collecting.

For some reason, the materials had to be from Mid Wales for the Mid Wales pictures. It wouldn't have been right to have pictures from Mid Wales with sticks from Pontyclun or Cardiff.

It's something about authenticity - even though no-one else would be able to tell. I'd know though.

I am working on lots of ideas, sketches, studies and pictures from different geographical areas, and I have bags of bits from each area.

Wherever I am, I find myself shuffling around with plastic carrier bags full of 'stuff' - like some old bag lady.

I have a bag of bits from Mid Wales for pictures about "the land";

I have another bag of bits from the coast in the boot of the car for pictures on "fluid";

Another bag of bits is from Bute Park in Cardiff for pictures about "chaos";

And I've started collecting material from a cemetery for pictures about "transition" (yes, I know, that last one is a bit weird).

So far, I've been trying to retain a naturalistic style to the pictures even though I paint the natural elements in different colours. Now I'm toying with the idea of doing some pictures in neon and flourescent colours.

It might be a bit more zeitgeisty.

(shoehorned that one in)

Coming Soon!

2009-09-16T18:20:00.003+01:00

Tree Farm

2009-09-14T18:06:00.000+01:00

Some time ago, as I was travelling through Mid Wales, I stopped at a Forestry Commission place for a wee.

While I was there I noticed they had various walks and nature trails mapped out.
So, picking the easiest-looking one - I went for a walk.

I had a packet of Mini-Cheddars so I knew I was well prepared.

The path I chose was actually a wide, made-up road, with picnic benches and tables along the way.

Not very intrepid, I know ... but forests scare me so I wanted to stay as far away as possible.

Also along the way, were these various sculptures.

Animals also scare me, so seeing things like a hedgehog this size was a bit unnerving.

Anyway.

I got to thinking about art in public places, and what a good thing it is.

I thought it was great that the Forestry Commission had commissioned and installed these pieces.

They weren't very zeitgeisty, but someone had made an effort.

However.

Something wasn't feeling right.

It was all a bit bland, a bit sanitised. It didn't feel like I was in 'nature'.

It was a bit creepy, but not in a good way.

As I came to the top of an incline, and rounded a corner, I saw this.

Devastation for miles around.

I suddenly realised that I really wasn't in nature ...

I was walking through a factory farm for wood

... a slaughterhouse for trees.

It was genuinely upsetting.

I walked back past the picnic benches and the sculptures and the whole place suddenly seemed very bleak.

It's a place to avoid, not visit.

No matter how desperate I am for a wee.

2009-09-11T11:52:00.001+01:00

Over the last few weeks I've been very focussed on the 2 commissions I'm working on. I'm very excited about them and feel I have some good ideas.

I'm doing a lot of preparatory research and studies, including reading, taking photos, making photocopies, getting tear sheets from magazines, producing drawings and getting samples of materials.

I have a deadline of 20th September to have all the preparatory work done, ready to present and, hopefully, get approved.

So not long.

The pictures I'm producing are a series of 4 based on the theme of growth and decay. The reason for producing 4 is that the number 4 represents the number of the earth (4 corners of the earth, north / south / east / west, 4 seasons, 4 winds etc.) Each will be 2 feet square. As is my usual style, the pictures will be colourful, highly textured and will have natural elements embedded into them.

The sculpture I'm working on is based on an upright human figure. The lower half of the figure will be covered with sticks, leaves and other natural elements suggesting that the figure is rising up out of the earth. It will be about 4 ft 6 ins tall. I am exploring the materials to be used but they will be very robust and weatherproof. The sculpture will be painted white.

Because of the size of these pieces, their physicality, and the nature of the materials being used, I need a dedicated studio space to work in. I have been offered a large space in a disused building in Central London, so I am checking that out. I will travel there for 2 or 3 days each week to work (probably more as the deadline moves closer!).

I am working on both pieces simultaneously and allowing 2 months for their completion. I am working towards installation and viewing at the end of October, so I'll also be working on publicity materials and a launch event(s).

While these commissions are my priority for the next few months, I also have a number of other projects on the go. These include a number of pictures that I'm working on, and plans for a new business-type initiative that I want to develop.

It was quiet in the weeks before I went to Brasil, but I knew it would be busier when I came back.

I'm enjoying it.

Interview with Joanne Aguilar - Textile Designer

2009-09-01T10:24:00.004+01:00

Joanne Aguilar is working as a freelance printed textile designer; producing and selling collections of textile samples for fashion and accessories, with a focus on menswear.

I've found it fascinating to learn more about what a Textile Designer does ... I hope you do too.

(Full disclosure - she's also my daughter!)

During your time at university, what did you REALLY learn? People often study a subject that they never refer to again (like me with History!), but yours seems very practical, hands-on and business-orientated. Was it?

My main aim in going to university was to learn the skills involved in textile design. I picked a course that was particularly traditional and craft based so that I would learn the processes step by step – I thought that if I knew how to do all these things properly I could then start to change the processes and experiment with the variables involved. So yes, the course was very practical but not especially business orientated or modern in terms of digital printing and new textile processes.

What does a Textile Designer actually do? Do you produce the fabric for making clothes? If so, what about the machinery you would need?
If you don't need a lot of machinery, what do you need? How do you produce samples?

My goodness – what a lot of questions! Textile Design is basically split into three disciplines – print, weave and knit. The designs can then be used for fashion, interiors or architectural spaces. If you think about it, textiles are everywhere in everyday life – inside and outside - so the possibilities are endless.

Personally, I specialised in designing printed textiles for fashion. I design patterns and prints in collections and make portfolios of small samples, which I then sell to fashion designers. I don’t need a lot of machinery as my samples are hand made and hand printed. I don’t make the clothes or produce any lengths of fabric – the fashion companies I sell to have their own manufacturers for that.

Why did you choose to focus on menswear? It doesn't seem so glamorous, colourful, tactile or exciting - things I'd have thought a textile designer would have been looking for!

Well, firstly, I think menswear can be glamorous and exciting - and it definitely is tactile. If pattern and colour are less obvious then the feel of the fabric really comes to the forefront. So touch is important to me when I design, and I am also really excited by high performance fabrics – fabric that has specific qualities such as being waterproof, reflective or protective. Good quality fabric is key, as are warmth and comfort. I’m much better at designing for a specific context than just printing pretty patterns in pretty colours.

All in all I think menswear suits my design style perfectly, and it’s definitely what I feel passionate about – menswear presents so many possibilities and challenges as there is still a lot of scope to innovate, all the while keeping it practical and wearable.

How do you begin working on a project? Are there any deadlines or timescales you have to work to? What about fashion seasons?

I start by drawing, taking photos and putting together sketchbooks and mood boards of ideas. One of the first things I decide on is a colour scheme and I like to get into the dye room pretty quickly and dye fabrics and papers to give me a palette. I also check all the upcoming trends as my collections are made for specific seasons in the fashion cycle – either Spring/Summer or Autumn/Winter. I research contemporary designers to keep up to date with current fabric and fashion developments and also read a lot of magazines and visit exhibitions so that I’m aware of what’s happening in general. I’ll set myself a brief and a deadline and choose which fabrics I’ll start with, but once I start printing and sampling I quickly get carried away and new ideas and processes start presenting themselves!

Where do you find your inspiration? How do you get an idea and then translate it onto a design for fabric? How can you know if it's going to be commercial?

Phew! I tend to play with contradictions – for example between traditional and contemporary menswear, printed and constructed textiles, traditional tailoring with elements of sportswear. I consider and exaggerate the inherent qualities of the fabrics I am working with. For each project the inspirations are different but I often look at architecture and graphics and for previous projects have researched suits of armour and military uniforms. I’ll then continue drawing and designing patterns and thinking about which processes I might use for each.

As I said before I try to design fabrics that I know will be wearable and functional for clothing and according to the trends.

Who do you sell your designs to?

I sell to fashion houses but also in the future I would like to collaborate with designers, especially young designers; developing fabrics alongside them for their upcoming fashion collections. I can also sell through textile design agencies.

What kind of environment do you like working in? Is a studio space best for you? Do you prefer working alone or with others?

I don’t like working alone! Even though I produce my collections on my own, a studio in a creative environment is really important for me in terms of meeting people designing in different disciplines, sharing ideas, possibilities of collaborations and having friends nearby for cups of tea! Working in isolation is not conducive to my creativity and I need to build and maintain a network of peers, supporters and friends. Also in practical terms I need studio space – what I do is quite messy!

What are you currently working on?

I’m currently working on a new collection of samples, my first post-university! You can see how I’m getting on at www.joanne-aguilar.blogspot.com

What's next?

The next step for me is to set up a print studio as soon as possible to enable me to continue designing and making samples.

Making Art In Brasil

2009-08-17T15:06:00.002+01:00

I made some art when I was in Brasil.

I tried to make 2 pictures but only completed one and a half.

Being there was a good time for me.

I didn't do the touristy thing, I just spent time hanging out with Claire, Neto, Neto's family and my family (who all made it out there). I joined in with whatever they were doing. It was perfect because I got a first-hand picture of what Claire's life is like ... where she lives, shops and works ... who some of her family and friends are. It made it all feel less distant.

As we went about the place I began to think about making a picture for her and Neto as a wedding present. One day, while she was seeing someone about wedding arrangements, I wandered around with my camera and took a few photos.

I told Claire I wanted to make a picture (I didn't say it was for her) so she gave me some acrylic paints, PVA glue and a sturdy cardboard box that I cut 2 pieces out of to work on.

Over the next few days I primed the cardboard (with the dregs of a tin of white emulsion that we found) and began the process of adding texture and colour to the surface of both pictures.

A couple of days later we were at a shopping mall so I took my camera memory card to a photo shop and asked for 3 prints. They looked at me a bit strangely as the prints I wanted were of a patch of earth (the earth there is a rich red colour), a wooden post and a bunch of grapes. Hardly holiday snaps.

The next day I stayed at Claire's house for the morning while everyone went out. That's when I got cracking. I scrabbled around outside gathering sticks, leaves, small stones and handfuls of earth - elements of the land where she now lives. I stuck them on Claire's picture and the other one. Fortunately things dry quickly in the Brasilian sun!

I added another layer of paint and texture. Finally, I cut words out of a magazine I was reading and stuck those on.

(I couldn't finish the other picture because I couldn't find an image I wanted to photograph or words I wanted to stick on.)

This is when the curious and unexpected thing happened. I was sitting with Claire the morning before her wedding. She had an email from the pastor of the church where she was getting married suggesting I should "say a few words" at the close of the wedding to sum things up. He thought it would be a nice touch and Claire thought so too. I agreed.

As I thought about what to say, I realised that the picture I had made would be a great visual aid. I made it to have meaning especially for Claire and Neto. Now I would have a chance to explain it to them in the context of their wedding rather than just leaving it in the pile of wedding presents and hoping they would "get it".

On the day (or the evening, actually - they got married at 7.30pm) I arranged for the picture to be taken in, wrapped in a piece of cloth. (I was walking Claire down the aisle and giving her away so I couldn't do it!) At the closing stages of the wedding ceremony, when I was invited to speak, I showed them the picture and spoke about the meaning of it.

It was great to be given the opportunity to speak so personally to them both, and to do it in front of their friends, family and church congregation.

Public speaking is my most favourite thing ever, so I was totally chuffed to be invited to take part. It rounded things off nicely for me.

I came home a proud and happy man.

2009-08-16T18:06:00.001+01:00

Check out the website of this great textile artist, Carole Waller:

http://www.carolewaller.co.uk/

2009-08-10T18:46:00.001+01:00

I'm still here.

I just don't know where 'here' is.

How Much Practice?

2009-07-12T18:43:00.000+01:00

10,000 hours, apparently.

I enjoy Malcolm Gladwell's books: The Tipping Point, Blink (my favourite) and his latest (which I'm just reading) Outliers - The Story Of Success (which I'm not enjoying so much).

In this latest book, he explores the factors that go into making some people exceptionally successful. It seems to hinge on a few crucial twists of fate, the time and culture they grow up in and the way they spend their time.

Another factor is that most of the successful people he investigates have worked at or practiced their skills for around 10,000 HOURS! On average, that's at least three hours a day for ten years. Practicing.

It seems that's what it takes.

They say that practice makes perfect.

But perfect at what?

I've been thinking about this since I wrote a few days ago about practicing the piano.

If I'd practiced for half an hour each day - as I was supposed to - I have no doubt that I would have been a better pianist. If I'd practiced for 10,000 hours, I daresay I would have been a very competent pianist. But would I ever have been great? Or successful? And is that what it was about?

With art, I like to go out sketching and if I do it often enough, I get better at it. I know this.

I could draw for 3 hours a day for a decade.

I could go to life classes and take lessons.

And I might do.

In the end I might be very competent at drawing - technically very accomplished. I could look at something or someone and produce an accurate likeness, probably in a variety of media and variety of styles. And I'm sure that would be impressive.

But would that make me an artist?

Reflections on the art market

2009-07-08T10:56:00.011+01:00

I've just realised how bad the art scene is in Cardiff. I was planning to visit a few galleries and as I went through them in my mind, I realised how many of them are not there any more!

One of the longer-established galleries has laid off its only full-time employee and cut its opening hours to just 3 days a week. Another gallery in the city centre opened for a few months and then closed. Another in the Bay - that was only open for about a year - has recently closed, though they are planning to relocate and reopen. We'll see.

I'm sure there are lots of reasons for these closures, but the bottom-line has to be that the bottom-line isn't adding up. Each of them seemed to have no shortage of artists wanting to show in them, but a severe shortage of people going to view the exhibitions and buy works of art. The 'credit crunch' has abviously exacerbated the situation, but it was a trend long before that.

I've been looking at some research carried out by the Arts Council, regarding the visual arts and crafts. It dates back to 2005 / 2006 and it indicates that the trends were already there.

The key findings were:

Those who engage with the visual arts are typically white, well educated and of high social status;

There is a strong regional effect in the case of art exhibitions, museums, galleries etc. - those living outside London are a lot less likely to attend.

The visual arts venues are not seen to be relevant or accessible to a majority of the population. This is backed up by findings which showed that a large number of people believe that the arts are ‘not for people like me’.

The conclusion is that:

"A range of different strategies are therefore required if we are to overcome both the practical and psychological barriers to engagement with the visual arts."

My aim is to make a living as an artist. I've identified a number of ways of doing this and I'm in the process of developing strategies and frameworks for making these work in practice and on a sustainable basis. This means developing new models and methods - which I hope will be useful to me and to other artists that I want to help and support.

The old way of doing things - particularly the gallery system - is no longer working so it's futile to continue putting time and energy into it. A lot of creative thinking, energy and effort needs to go into developing new ways of doing things that are better suited to the current zetgeist ("the spirit of the time; the taste and outlook characteristic of a period or generation").

This is some of what's bubbling away in the background as I wait for a number of things to click into place.

I Have No Style

2009-07-06T18:14:00.000+01:00

When I was young (primary school age) I took piano lessons. I was pretty good, too ... passed exams, got grades and all that. My Dad wanted to send me round the pubs, to make some money off me. Better than going up the chimneys or down the mines, I suppose. Fortunately, we moved and had to sell the piano.

My piano teacher was Hirioth Davies and she lived up "The Pitching" (an old, cobbled street up the side of a steep hill) in Llantrisant. She had a long pencil (about a foot long) that she used to annotate the music, to keep time, and to rap me over the knuckles with when I made a mistake.

That happened a lot because I didn't practice as much as I should have.

I was supposed to do half an hour's practice every day. Yeah right.

First I had to do scales. Up and down the keyboard practicing fingering and developing what I now know as 'muscle memory'. Eventually I would instinctively know where the notes were, how to get to them, how to combine them , how to transpose from one key to another.

This led on to practicing specific pieces of music. Usually classical. Starting out clunky and cacophonous, eventually I would get the hang of it and then be able to play with greater fluidity and expression.

As I developed my abilities, I was able to tackle a new piece of music more easily and get the hang of it more quickly. In the later stages, in exams, I was able to sight read pieces of music I had never seen before.

Pretty cool, huh? Imagine how good I would have been if I'd actually put in the practice!

Now I'm learning to make art instead of music.

I go out sketching most days and, to me, that's like practicing my scales. I usually sketch the same things over and over again - landscapes and tree trunks mainly.

But I've been worrying that I don't sketch in a defined style. Or rather, that I do for a while and then it changes.

Lately, my landscape sketches have been much more fluid and colourful - using ink and coloured pencils, rather than pens or charcoal. My tree trunks are more linear and I'm using ink and wash rather than pencil.

But now I'm thinking that this is all part of the process and that it's OK ... necessary, even.

When I learned to play scales, I learned different, more complicated ones as I progressed. This enabled me to tackle more difficult compositions. That's what it's like with my sketching. I'm developing a broader range of skills that will enable me to tackle different pieces of work.

Perhaps it's not so much that I don't have any style ... it's that I have many styles ... depending on what I want to do.

2009-06-29T12:27:00.003+01:00

These days are slow, work-wise. Things are humming quietly but I'm not feeling as driven as I was a few weeks ago.

Several things are about to click into place.

In a month or two I won't have much free time, perhaps for quite a while.

Well, that's the way I like it.

Different times, different rhythms.

Further thoughts on the UCA Farnham Summer Show

2009-06-20T10:39:00.006+01:00

At the Summer Show I was keen to see what was happening in the Fine Art department. Overall, I was disappointed.

A few things struck me: one was the lack of painting - there were only 2 paintings in the whole Fine Art exhibition. The second was the conceptual nature of much of the rest of the work, with no obvious point of access into it. The third was that the artists were nowhere to be seen so there could be no dialogue with them.

In the Textiles department, the preparatory work and research was an integral part of the display, with the result that you could get a handle on what was being represented. Also, the designers generally hung around the exhibition and were willing to talk about their work. Perhaps the difference is that their work is more commercial and part of their development is learning how to explain ... and sell ... what they are doing.

If that's true, then I can only guess that the fine artists are not interested in personally presenting and selling their work.

It's not easy to read a picture. Or any piece of art. There's a visual language, set in a personal and cultural context, that needs to be understood - at least to some degree - if the work is to be appreciated. I know there's a school of thought that says a picture should be allowed to speak for itself, but I don't agree with that and it's not the approach I'm taking.

All this has made me think about what I'm doing.

For me, as I've mentioned before, it's about getting some ideas 'out there' to debate and test them - and hopefully improve them. My primary medium is the visual arts - though I won't be restricted to that.

I want there to be a conversation and a connection about those ideas. This may or may not result in a sale (though often it does).

I'm not sure a passive gallery display will ever achieve that.

I want to have conversations about my art in the studio, in a coffee shop, around the table ... preferably with lots of food and wine.

I'm figuring out how best to do that.

At one of my exhibitions, I complained that no -one asked me any questions or made any comments. Someone told me that they didn't think they were allowed to talk to the artist. I understand that - and the gallery environment can add to that sense of intimidation and unease. That's another reason I think it's important to find different ways of presenting art - at least in my case.

When I post my pictures on my blog, I don't do it like you're supposed to. The photos are pretty poor quality (though I want them to be better); I don't give any details of size, media, price or how to purchase should anyone wish to. I'm just giving a glimpse of what I'm doing and what I'm producing. I don't want my art to be reduced to a high-res image and a set of dimensions. I don't aim to sell art from this blog. I just use it to tell stories and give a bit of background and context.

I want to create environments and opportunities for people to see my pictures 'in the flesh'; to hold them, to touch them, to feel free to ask questions and make comments.

No pressure to buy ... just bear in mind that I'll die of hunger if you don't.

University for the Creative Arts Farnham Summer Show 2009

2009-06-16T15:01:00.005+01:00

I went to view this annual exhibition at the University for the Creative Arts at Farnham. Work was being shown from all the 3rd year BA students, and included Fine Art, Interior Architecture & Design, Ceramics, Glass & Metalwork & Jewellery, and Textiles for Fashion & Interiors. It was the last category that I was particularly interested in because my daughter, Jo, was on that course and was exhibiting her work.

The Textile Design course combines print and weave. Textiles are designed for fashion, interiors, fine art and architectural contexts. It's a very innovative course that develops practical design and production skills with a strong business orientation.

It has been interesting to see how Jo's thinking, experience and skill have developed and improved over the three years. She's also enjoyed the course and has often talked enthusiastically about the other students. I was looking forward to meeting them and seeing some of their work. According to the tutors, they were a particularly good group.

And it showed in the exhibition. It was amazing. There was so much variety, so much creativity. Different types of printed and woven fabrics displayed in many different ways and intended for many different uses. There were final samples together with many of the research elements. Some of this was in sketch books, photos, and videos. So many stories were being told and ideas being explored. Two that stood out to me were the girl who designed her whole project around smoking and cancer ... producing fabrics that were beautiful but that held a powerful message ... and the girl who printed onto dissolvable fabric and then threw it into the sea. The material dissolved leaving the design on the water and the rocks until that too washed away. She captured all of this in photos and on video.

All the students were artists, who had chosen to work with textiles as their medium.

The other thing that struck me was how much mutual support, encouragment, challenge and praise there was amongst the Textiles students. Although they were all highly individual - as people and in the work they produced - they'd created a real studio environment. I was envious!

Jo's Project Aim was:

"To produce a collection of textile samples which will be used for menswear - playing on the contradictions between traditional and contemporary menswear and printed and constructed textiles; keeping an element of humour and surprise in my prints and fabrics.My collections demonstrate my varied influences such as tailoring, sportswear and streetwear. They fill a gap in men's everyday wardrobes for fashion forward clothes that are wearable in terms of design and also functional - protective, reversible, warm and comfortable."

(see some of her work at http://www.joanne-aguilar.blogspot.com)

I'm not at all biased, but her work was the best in the whole show. Obviously.

Much of the work from the Summer Show will be shown at New Designers in The Business Design Centre, Islington on 9th - 12th July. This is a commercial show where the best young designers from across the country exhibit their work and connect with industry professionals. For more info visit http://www.newdesigners.com/page.cfm/Link=1/t=m/goSection=1

Another 2 pictures

2009-06-13T18:57:00.003+01:00

I'm still producing "Images of Earth and Spirit" pictures. I'm working with my visual language, with small variations each time as my vocabulary grows.

I have too many ill-defined thoughts to put into words, so I'm making art to find out what I think. My thoughts are visual, not verbal, though there is a constant commentary running through my mind.

I'm 'seeing' new (for me) concepts and constructs. I hope they will translate into some kind of reality in terms of how I see myself and what I do.

I know exactly what I want but, as yet, don't know how to do it. Actually, that's not true. I know how to do it, I just don't have the resources to do it at the moment.

When I go out sketching I'm working in a much looser style and using colour. That's how I see things. But there are still fences to get over.

I'm working on it.

2009-06-08T16:32:00.002+01:00

I'm out in the hills again - sitting beside a lake. It appears to be peaceful and calm, but the wind is blowing in the trees and the grass, and the ripples are moving restlessly across the surface of the lake. In the earth there will be all sorts of worms, bugs and creep-crawlies. (Just like in my car.) In the lake there will be fish, and ... errr ... other things that live in water. And while I can't see them, there are sure to be animals and birds around here somewhere.

It's a constant maelstrom of elements and creatures - all inter-acting, inter-relating and inter-dependent. It goes on day and night whether I'm here or not; whether I notice or not; whether I care or not.

It seems life's like that.

I've stopped here for a reason. I have a few things on my mind. I write two of them on scraps of paper, lift my hand and let them go. The wind takes them.

A butterfly flaps its wings in Patatgonia and I throw a few pieces of paper into the air in Wales. Who knows what the knock-on effect will be? What consequences will follow? Maybe my 'prayers' will be answered by some force or some fluke. Maybe not.

It was a special moment.

As I turn to go back to the car, I see a sign.

It says, "Take your litter home. Maximum penalty £2500".

That could go either way then, depending on who was watching.

I've got worms

2009-06-07T18:52:00.005+01:00

I first noticed when I was gluing sticks, grass, dirt and stones onto a piece of MDF at the side of the road in Mid Wales.
Something was moving on the surface ... wriggling in fact. I'd half glued a worm into the picture.

I now have carrier bags full of material I have gathered, in the boot of my car. When I open the boot, flies buzz around and worms are crawling.

Add that to the lingering odour of milk I spilled some time ago and my car is not a pleasant place to be.

Ah well.

Anyway, here are two more pictures from Mid Wales ... and there are more to come!

The reason I'm producing so much at the moment is because:

I'm working without excuses. I'm not waiting for the ideal circumstances ... or even slightly better ones ... I'm just "getting on with it", every day.

I'm also challenging myself more. I'm consciously doubling my output by working on 2 pictures at a time.

Next, I'm going to be thinking about how to package and present my work.