An exploration of shadow, light and tension at the Turnpike Gallery, Leigh.
photos ©Mark Howard Photography/rockpoolcandy2011
The only way I could make this piece work was if I became the mannequin.
An exploration of shadow, light and tension at the Turnpike Gallery, Leigh.
photos ©Mark Howard Photography/rockpoolcandy2011
The only way I could make this piece work was if I became the mannequin.
It's taken a year to create all the elements of this monstorous piece;
delicate little screen-printed footprints on stones that change in the rain,
individually printed and sewn monkey embryos,
bleached animal bones meticulously wrapped in fine embroidery cottons and stacked into a nest,
plants from my garden pounded to a pulp through muslin and made into paper sculptures,
fabrics and hides surface printed with lino cuts and crocheted forms,
paper and silk mushrooms crafted and decorated,
mounds and mounds of grass sewn by hand,
organisms imagined, dyed, spun, woven, crocheted and wired,
all brought together into one great knoll.
It is akin to a consumption that has held me in its grip. And finally let me go.
So here it is. My malady in 3D. I am released.
'Monkey Spawn'
It is by just a tweak of nature or environment that we are here in our current form. Evolution has many branches. Had the World been a wetter place, would we, or indeed would monkeys, have evolved to spawn like frogs instead of give birth to live young?
At first engagement, I want the onlooker to feel safe, familiar even, with my installation. It looks like a quiet glade. But as you inspect, you begin to feel a disquiet. A nest made of wrapped bones. Strange footprints that appear to be made by a one-footed animal. And above you, a huge ball of monkey spawn, suspended in spit. What creatures made these marks? How large is the mother of this nest? Is she nearby? Is she watching you? Are you indeed safe? The onlooker becomes an intruder. How long dare you stay?
'Monkey Spawn' will show at the FE McWilliam sculpture gallery in Banbridge, Northern Ireland as part of 'Another Dimension. Print in 3D' until 15th May 2011.
The University of Ulster, Belfast, were gifted some BEAUTIFUL old display cabinets from the V&A.
You know the sort - the ones that make you want to climb inside and install mad taxidermy scenes.
Unfortunately, I haven't got any mad taxidermy (yet) but I did get to climb in them. (They have false bottoms - ooer!)
I decided to do fill one cabinet with colour and plastic;
the other in (more or less) monochrome foam.
There were a few hiccups - nothing would stay stuck to the glass, so the arrangement is a little 'flat' for my liking, but you can only swear at double-sided tape so many times before accepting its limitations.
The cabinet displays will stay until the 8th December, so if you get a chance, head up and take a look. They're right outside the Dean's office.
Over the last few years, I've leapt on any unattended loom in my vicinity and relished weaving. But I knew that a loom of my own was a long way off. Extra-wide, 8-shaft countermarch looms aren't cheap, or that readily available on this side of the Irish Sea.
Then a little, brown sparrow of a loom came into my life.
and delapidated after 30 years in a stable, it had lost its voice.
But I treated her wounds, painted her metal-work gold, and gave her a new coat of blue.
Missing pieces were replaced using reclaimed mill bobbins and timber.
And lace bobbins now adorn her limbs.
Spare findings hang in her basket.
And she's started to sing again. Her voice was as rusty as her heddles had been.
But the cloth is starting to flow, winding around.
We've a way to go. The weavers amongst you will spot that the harnesses are hanging too high and need adjustment; and that my tension in the 30-year old warp that was on her isn't even.
But Rome wasn't built in a day. And wings take a while to get back their strength. And one day, I plan to turn her into an 8-shaft too.
But for now, in the early-morning autumnal mornings, she and I are humming away together, enjoying our new friendship and getting to know each other; making our new slice of Ulster history.
So no, I didn't die totally. Although I thought that I might with the nerves... Here's how my piece panned out.
Lay down base colours and drips.
Remember to wear gloves, Kiddies! Or you'll end up with a numpty finger like mine!
Add a torn map and some linen.
Sand that baby back.
Stencil lace over certain areas.
Add a song sheet and wood-blocked image I'd printed previously.
Rub away the damp layers of the paper to trap the image.
Iron on cheesy embroidery transfers.
I like the bits that got stuck in the paint best.
Glue down Eastern-European birdie stamps.
Drill holes for a branch and three flowers. Spray highlight drips.
Tie on flowers that I'd made previously.
And bind the branch on with ribbon.
Add a tag & a paper-sculpted bird to the branch.
This angry little fella's created from old books and found papers.
Hang the blummin' thing on the wall, have a glass of wine, and swear off art for life.....
Until my knees have recovered, that is...
So I've been slacking in my posting. You know what? There are several reasons why.
Here's one. Life's just peachy.
We've been hanging out with my friend, Debi, and friends, on her 'dirt farm' as she calls it. 'Damn near perfect' I call it. This was taken about 2 hours' from her, just at sundown on a western Floridian beach.
There have been parties with fire dancing - you know the way it is....
And then there's checking that the pool water is the right temperature.....
But more importantly, there's been fibre fiddling. Meet Marvin Morgenstern. What he doesn't know about Overshot weaving, ain't worth knowing. The man is a genius.
And luckily for the weaving world, he's documented every overshot pattern that he's ever woven. The library is extensive. I just hope that someone out there with the necessary archiving skills approaches Marvin and gets this stuff down officially. If there was a website with this stuff on, it would go into meltdown.
For our own projects, we've started sculpting loom weights from clay. Fir cones took our fancy. We've got 40 ready to fire. We'll build a neolithic-style loom to hang in the cathedral of trees on Debi's farm.
And then we've been acquiring new skills, like warp thread painting.
And there are three looms to explore no less.
And then there's the dyeing, the spinning, the rug hooking.
And I want to share it with you all, but, you know, it's hard to sit in front of a laptop when the sun is
shining, the Thanksgiving cassoulet is bubbling on the firepit, and there are balls to throw for Lil' Bit.
And right now, we're busy in Washington D.C.
We're visiting artists at Pyramid Atlantic paper and print making studios.
Creative Director, and buddy, Gretchen Schermerhorn, gave us a crash course in papermaking.
Including bashing the heck out of gompi bark that we boiled. It makes THE MOST beautiful paper.
And we went to town on the process, adding in my wool, pieces of embroidery, peacock feathers from Debi's farm and anything else that didn't move quick enough to escape our clutches.
But you know me, I wanted to go 3D.
And to the onlook and thumbs-up of workmen working in the street outside, I created a few coral forms.
And then a few more....
It was SO exciting to watch as the paper dried in the hot box.
I'm pleased to announce that I have fallen in love with papermaking.
And a HUGE installation is now in the pipeline. I'll need a space to exhibit, but I'm hoping that opportunity will present itself...
here's hoping.
So for the last three weeks, I've been lucky enough to be staying at the most beautiful of schools, Shiplake College,
where the hub and I scored the deal of being artists in residence.
Set on the River Thames, it's like Harry Potter with rowing facilities. (Their Dep.Head is an Olympian Gold Medal Rower, don't you know...)
As you can see, the beautiful surroundings, wall-to-wall sunshine, misty mornings and general eagerness to explore and learn at the college were hellish....
With the luxury of an orchard all to myself, I was able to while away the hours crocheting on the trees,
using neolithic principles to build a loom
and creating a 12th Century-inspired spinning wheel from 21st Century junk.
I span Herdwick on the newly-built wheel. The resulting cob made my heart leap, as it mirrored the huge cones on a nearby fir. Pleasure perfection.
I ventured into new realms of natural graffiti, creating leaf stencils
and veneer marquetry to reinstall in nature.
Along with students, we explored the space amongst the trees using threads and fibres,
then challenged our egos by taking them down, often without even a photographic record. (These are two of the few taken.)
Ask yourself, as an artist, do you need everyone to know that you created a piece, or was the process satisfaction enough? Ironic to discuss on a public blog, but I for one, do not show and tell a great majority of my work. Sometimes it's a secret between me and the piece.
So the adventures continue to bloom and blossom, not just in England, but in just a fortnight across the pond, in the USA, too. Again with the hub, I will be exploring all these ideas and more, with the students of St Lawrence, Canton, NY. I am beside myself with excitement and cannot wait to meet them all. I hope they're looking forward to it, as much as me.
Credit crunch? Pah! We crafty crafters are better than that!
Who needs expensive florists when little posies spring forth in our gardens at this time of year?
And it needs a press, but my 6ft show banner began life as vintage doilies, lace tray cloths and bra straps!
And what will Cinders wear to Ravelry Day?
Well, whilst digging about in a charity shop recently, I came across a load of lovely handmade silk ties. They triggered a misty memory of a wartime dress pattern I'd seen in a 'make do' article.
So being a lady of hour-glass proportions and liking bias-cut hip skimmers that slim. I've embarked upon a dress.
I'll let you know how it goes....
Have a colour-filled day of joy.
For those of you who can't make it to the Turnpike, you can watch my (rather clunky) youtube video of me winding my ball and then crocheting the monster bacteria. It didn't turn out as big as I'd hoped, due to lack of stuffing, but hey, it ain't no granny square.
Oh, and who would you want watching you shed blood and sweat for your artistic practice? Well the UK Minister for Culture, Andy Burnham, of course.
Stay tuned for my next Cor Blimey Crochet! installation. This is just puppy feed.
I'm getting ready for the UK DIY show at the Turnpike Gallery.
You'll recognise one of my white reefs on the cover there (and Alabamawhirly's gorgeous gloves, Miso Funky's emo-broidery, Ildiko Szabo's freeform and the odd bit of yarn bombing, too).
But I'm not installing coral this time. I've cooked up a plan with Ildi to install micro organisms.
All are larger than life.
Some crocheted and felted.
And some gigantically, ridiculously, arm crocheted (as let's face it, hand crocheted doesn't apply to this monster!) I'm calling it Cor Blimey Crochet!
If you've ever wondered what a listeria bacterium would look like enlarged to the size of a car, then the Turnpike will be the place to visit.
Thanks to the lovely Jacob Semko and my one and only hub, MyTarPit, shaking their tail feathers for the last 3 days and helping me construct this filament, I've got 300m of the stuff to drag across the Irish Sea and tame on site. I'll not know if it works until we're actually in the gallery, so fingers crossed.
And so why am I doing this - because, let's face it, it's not for the fun of picking glitter out of my undies for the rest of the year! Well, I want people to think about who really rules the world. Here's a sneak preview of my wall text.
MICRO POWER
I've often wondered why the Human Race thinks itself so superior. By taming other creatures and bending them to our will, we assume that we have the greatest intelligence of any organism.
But I'm not so sure.
I'm beginning to think that micro organisms truly rule our planet. We rely on them to keep us alive, all the time hoping that they don't kill us. Meanwhile, they're mutating and evolving, making our defenses ineffective.
At only a few nanometers long, some of these microorganisms are so small that they don't even reflect colour. (Humans can see colour waves between only 400 and 700 nanometers long.)
Under a powerful electron microscope, scientists have to fire electrons at the microorganisms to 'excite' them and make them glow to be visible.
MICRO POWER lead me to enlarge these monumentally powerful, yet microscopic entities using crochet and felting. Featured here are the common cold, bacteria, micro fungi or other viruses.
As you visit the gallery, think about how you're trafficing these micro organisms unwittingly and look out for new clusters.
Not convinced of their dominance?
•Millions of Prochlorococcus can live in a drop of seawater, quietly making oxygen. They made one in every five breaths you take.
•About 100 trillion microorganisms live in your gut. Most of these bacteria and viruses aid your digestion.
•Some viruses use mind control. Rabies, which is fatal in humans, enrages its host, making it bite, just to pass on the virus.
•Then there's body control. Dengue Fever turns your immune system against you, so that you're attacking your own body from the inside.
•Myxamatosis, found in rabbits decides just how long it needs to keep its host alive to be bitten by enough mosquitoes in order to move to new hosts.
•And there are micro fungi that lasso roundworms before devouring them.
My advice? Think small.
So come down, help the viral spread of artwork both in and out of the gallery and rediscover your love of craft.
There are a few extra classes going on. I've tried to photograph the details. Hope they come out. If not, just go to the Turnpike site.