excitement, frustration, markmaking…

 

Work from final day of Emily Ball workshop © Mari French 2019Work from final day of Emily Ball workshop © Mari French 2019

My work from final day of Emily Ball workshop © Mari French 2019

I’ve been sadly neglecting my blog posts since December. In my defence I was suffering quite badly from the good old S.A.D. (Seasonal Affective Disorder) symptoms along with a bout of creative block, that can plague me (and many people) during the winter months until thankfully, spring seemed to arrive with a flourish in February.

So, now I’m playing at catch up as a lot has happened in the past two months. Because it relates to the previous two posts I’ll tell you first about the Emily Ball markmaking workshop near Cambridge that I attended a couple of weeks ago.

After the boost the previous EB workshop I’d attended in 2017 gave me, I was keen to freshen my markmaking and visual language again. For me art making is a continual learning process and I recognise the need in my own practice for fresh creative input from outside sources occasionally. Emily always gives an intensive, exhausting but very rewarding workshop and this was no exception. We’d had ‘homework’ to do to prepare us and I’d decided to concentrate on Dungeness (see previous two posts) as my subject. So I spent a few weeks producing a series of small experimental studies based on my memories of Dungeness before attending (see image above).

It was great to meet old artist friends and make new ones, and the 12 of us soon filled the art room walls at Linton College, near Cambridge, with a startling variety of large mark-filled sheets of paper. From creating a markmaking ‘alphabet’ of our own marks from our homework studies and exaggerating them in different ways, to ‘blind drawing’ with black and white oil bars, then working on editing complete paintings to ‘get more space in!’, it was full-on, fun and exhilarating. 

By the final day, we’d all experienced highs and lows, whoops of delight and wails of frustration, but all of us had moved on significantly in the development of our own visual language. The image at the start of this post, the last I produced on the workshop (stormy abstract landscape on my easel) thwarted me so much in its development that I hated it for several days. Now, however, I can appreciate the energy, mood and space in it and now I quite like it! Emily must have the patience of a saint, she’s a great tutor and I can highly recommend her workshops.

Selection of the fabulous variety of fresh work made on the workshop. © Karen Stamper 2019.

Selection of the fabulous variety of fresh work. © Karen Stamper 2019.

Special mention to a small selection of the artists from the workshop whose work I admire and you might like to check out (links to the artists’ websites):
Leslie Birch
Sarah Russell
Karen Stamper

 

 

emerging blooms …

Mixed-media on canvas, 100x100cm. © Mari French 2016

Mixed-media on canvas, 100x100cm. © Mari French 2016

After struggling with a couple of canvases this week, I was beginning to lose the plot with this one. Remembering what I’d recently been advised* – ‘Don’t let your painting know you’re scared of it’ – I threw caution to the wind and began editing the image by vigorously covering certain areas with paint, then adding a variety of marks with oil sticks, paint pens and ink pencils. 

Some marks were robust, some delicate and twirling or meandering. Several of the latter seem to be suggesting etoliated, wiry but fragile blooms? I love this colour palette, luminous, soft and atmospheric.

Standing back, I’m quietly excited by this one.

 

Emily Ball, artist & tutor.

Sun & storm clouds (ii)…

Stormy sky towards Thornham

Stormy sky towards Thornham. © Mari French 2016

On my second recent sketching trip to Thornham Saltmarsh, I wanted to try out my new Posca paint pens with gouache and ink, as a change from the watercolours I normally use outdoors. 

I encountered Posca pens for the first time back in January on the Emily Ball workshop I attended in Cambridge, but this was the first time I’ve used them out sketching. They come in a range of colours and types of nib/width etc and at first look like felt markers. However, what I particularly like about them is their ability to be used over other colours without losing their clarity (see the fine blue lines and the white thicker ones in the sketch above). They seem to combine well with gouache, but I’ve seen them used effectively on acrylics, collage and so on.

Although the yellow rape had gone over, you could still detect its balmy, honeyed, slightly medicinal aroma along the raised paths around the marsh. Many other wildflowers were out – purple mallow, yellow rattle, white clover, ox-eye daisies, cow parsley and the stunning blue chicory,  with sea lavender blushing the marsh with mauve.

Butterflies flickered along the margins of the paths (one landed on my sketch), and many plants were studded with tiny button-like snails. The wind rustling through the reedbeds and the grasses emphasised the peace and quiet.

Ragged Marsh. © Mari French 2016

Ragged Marsh. © Mari French 2016

 

Hot day, windy with skylarks and jets. © Mari French 2016

Hot day, windy with skylarks and jets. © Mari French 2016

I didn’t walk as far as the beach this time, but spent an hour observing and sketching the weather over the marsh. From distant Thornham village, acrid woodsmoke drifted in, giving rise to the brownish smudge on the abstract sketch above. A jet zipped through the sky ripping it open, but the skylarks continued spiralling upwards casting their songs into the air.

Chicory, Holme dunes. © Mari French 2016

Chicory, Holme dunes. © Mari French 2016

 

Bench & signpost. © Mari French 2016

Bench & signpost. © Mari French 2016


Sketchbook © Mari French 2016

Sketchbook © Mari French 2016


Sketch in gouache and Posca pen © Mari French 2016

Sketch in gouache and Posca pen © Mari French 2016

 

Sketch in gouache, ink and Posca pen. © Mari French 2016

Sketch in gouache, ink and Posca pen. © Mari French 2016