The Burning Bush

David Hawkes: Study for a Beautiful Day 2

Wedderburn is a small place, just out of Campbelltown west of Sydney.  You would expect with the concentration of most of Australia’s best abstract artists that it would be a remarkable place.  It’s not, it’s the bush and a gully and like most of the Australian landscape, scrappy gums,scrubby undergrowth and patchy pinkish rock.  Beautiful but not exceptional.  It’s the translation to art that makes it remarkable.

“I could spend the rest of my life just painting this bit of bush.” Elisabeth Cummings Wedderburn

Elisabeth Cummings is the humble queen of the Wedderburn bush and her current exhibition at King Street Gallery is testament to her rights to that crown.  Regular readers of my blog will know already of the influence of her work on mine.  This exhibition has some truly notable pieces, especially Crossing the Gully and Small Billabong.

Looking at her work I am inspired to get back painting in oil and at the same time insecure in that I feel I would never be able to produce anything so exquisitely complete and complex.

Just down the road in Watters Gallery, David Hawkes also paints the Wedderburn Bush. Like Cummings, Hawkes takes the essence of that landscape and pours a rhythm of the bush into his work in slathers of paint. His 49 studies for a beautiful day seems to indicate every day is a beautiful day in Wedderburn.

A beautiful day in Sydney too.

There’s An App For That Art

Taking a photo at the lake on my walk, why not give the old Tate Ball a shake?

This was my treat on a hot summery night.

I think when I heard the Sesame Street rendition of “There’s an app for that…” I knew my excitement for apps was justified.  I can’t say that I’m a tech expert but I can negotiate around the app store like a book shop.  I head straight for the art section (surprise,surprise), do a bit of opening, browsing, reading reviews.

The Magic 8 Ball Tate Ball

A grey day at the lake, a shake and presto!

So my phone now has a great selection of art apps and one of my all time favourites is the Magic Tate Ball. It has it all. At any time of day, anywhere you can give it a firm shake and magic chance along with a little GPS tracking and sensing your surroundings, it will predict an art piece specially selected for you to make your day a little brighter. Todays treat was Barbara Hepworth!

Along with apps from most of the major galleries, there is also a variety of arty games and another favourite time-waster is Art Museum. It is similar to the old card game of patience where you flip over and match the pair – in this case art works, you then go on to match the painting to the artist and even further to match the title to the painting.

There is a great variety Dali Watches, Draw Something, Muybridgizer, and Magritte It are a few fun ones.  Let me know if there is the ultimate art app that you would love to share.

If you think all of this may be just too much to take in, check out this fun animation that sums up my problem.

No, I didn’t get locked out but I was a little paranoid.

That Messy Abstractionist Drawer

Joan Mitchell

The bombardment of information through internet sources has meant that I hear about more and more artists that I like.  ”Great!”  You might say.  I’m not so sure.  My current reading material is an essay by Elaine De Kooning on the artist Earl Kerkham and I had earlier read an article on American abstractionist Joan Mitchell.  I really didn’t know about these artists and rather than just a name printed in black and white, I wanted to see their works, give them time and recognition.

 

 

I was really enamoured with Joan Mitchells work and was surprised that I had not discovered her work earlier. I don’t know if it was a case of seeing and forgetting or never looking.  How many others have escaped me?

Earl Kerkham Head 1962

The trouble is there are so many artists out there past and present and the more time spent looking means less time spent doing.  I admire artists who are single-minded and focus on one or maybe two artists and can develop their own work as a result. I thought I could do that and if I really had to choose, I could only narrow it to three – De Kooning, Giacometti and Antony Gormley.

But what happens to all the others I discard to focus on the big 3?  Do I chuck them all into the second drawer that is my head and rummage through it when I’m working on a painting or series? That scares me, I know what that drawer is like and there is always a fabulous instrument that lurks at the bottom, sharp and edgy and when you go in to retrieve it you could possibly be hurt or come out with something you really can’t use.

My Lake series is bubbling and I am looking at artists that I think might be relevant to what I need  - Puccini, Arthur Boyd, Rembrandt and Elisabeth Cummings are in the pot. And if I could give them a stir with the tool at the bottom of the drawer it would be Rauschenberg.

My Headcounter is Running Down

Weeds from the Lake

Sometimes a day is never what you plan.  I wasn’t feeling particularly creative today but after a vigorous bout of gardening and junk throwing-outing I went into the “studio”.  I jotted down a couple of ideas for the lake series that had drifted to the front of the brain. Drew a few thumbnail sketches to see whether a bull in a boat was feasible.

There was no more room in that sketchbook, another one had bitten the dust so I grabbed the next empty. It was a small black moleskin that I had started a collage on the cover. I was using body bits out of an anatomy text-book. I love doing this, simple cut and pasting. I lost focus pretty quick and went from collaging body bits to checking emails.

There was a great podcast on the future of museums so I went outside once more and sat in the sun and listened, watching the counter going down and down. From there I found a link to another creative blogger who had a Vimeo treat for me so off I went watching a selection of  Vimeos, looking at more counters counting down minutes and seconds.

Miniature Melbourne from Nathan Kaso on Vimeo.

I felt I had a counter on my weekend. I tried to remember how it had started but I couldn’t grasp that slide bar to take me back.

A Big Mixed Bag of Lollies

Anish Kapoor Memory

Multiple exhibitions in one venue can sometimes be a mixed bag of lollies.  There’s usually the big musk stick that pops out the top of the bag and draws you in and then there are the ones  at the bottom, the three for 5 cent  jubey things.  My trip to the Museum of Contemporary Art Sydney was like that.

Anish Kapoor proved musk stick-like to be as good as it looked. Something sweet and distinct at every bite, leaving a unique taste in your mouth.  The promise of more sweets inside was the huge mirror dish reflecting Sydney Harbour on a perfectly blue hundreds-and-thousands sparkly day.  Having been impressed by his work for a long time I was hoping for the best and I got better. As usual looking at the works on line, in books, on DVDs doesn’t cut the musk stick.

At the same time the other exhibition South of No North jubes proved to be strawberries and cream. Delicious with no fan-fare, three for one. The exhibition was based on works by Noel McKenna, Wiliam Eggleston and Laurence Aberhart. Noel McKenna’s work has always made me smile. From his doggie poster series to big things. This was a wonderful exhibition and although it is hard to compare the  monumental work of Anish Kapoor, there was a similarity in the complete paring down of subject and the strength in simplicity. I especially loved these small tiles of simply drawn ordinary objects and one of the best known useful products ever deserving to be lauded in glazed ceramic : liquid nails.  It was also wonderful to see his influences in Aberhart and Eggleston.

So my little bag of MCA mixed lollies proved to be quite sweet . It wasn’t too sickly and way too tempting to refuse.

If you hadn’t tried this before, click here for my Doggie Quiz inspired by Noel McKenna.

How Much is that Doggie

Give Some, Take Some and Two Bags Full

I swore no more books in the house until some leave. I rummaged the shelves for sacrifices for the next big book fair. I piled them into two huge bags, took some out, put a couple back in and lugged them to the boot.

I can’t believe the Lifeline Big Book Fair has rolled around again so soon and today is half price Sunday. I expected the visual arts section to be dessimated by the last two days of hungry art students but the pickings were great and I chowed down on a Guggenheim publication, an old botanical art book too big for the shelf as well as some lovely old 50′s mags.

Of course I ended up leaving …heaving the same two bags I had arrived with, more fresh old books. The smell of musty books and scouts cooking sausage sangers makes this Sunday in March delightful.

Giant Ducks in Little Places

TAL Dai-ichi Collection State Library

 

My Painting of shag (cormorant) at the Lady Denman Heritage Museum Huskisson -a large shag in a little town.

 

 

 

 

Sometimes I stumble across stuff by mistake.  It’s a bit like when you are waiting to get to sleep and your mind wanders from one subject to another and before you know it, you’re thinking of something completely new and forgot how you got there to start with.

I can’t remember why I had gone to the State Library’s website but in the back of my mind there was a definite reason and that is now a lost cause.  Anyway, I attended a talk at the Wollongong Gallery on the TAL Dai’ichi Collection (Earl of Derby) that sparked my curiosity. These wonderful albums had been locked away for a long time, like those recesses of the mind.  The talk was not only about the volumes but how the State Library of NSW came across them and was able to purchase them.

TAL Dai-ichi Collection State Library NSW

Walking round the lake this morning it reminded me of the talk and the recording of nature in those early albums. It was a wonderful era where the drawings were so much more than a photo. The initial image replicated in the power point presentation was of a giant duck standing webbed over a tiny painted landscape.  It made me want to paint huge cormorants over tiny lakes. It was though that the watercolours were quite often done on return from the antipodes and that some of the works looked Indian in nature.

I also loved the stories of the collectors of the images, sometimes members of the Linnane Society who would collect and treasure new and exciting images of exotic creatures. Some of the most beautiful works were of fishes and the colours were fresh and amazing. Following the talk we were able to gather in close around the table where two volumes were gently turned page by page by devoted white-gloved conservators. The delicacy of watercolours means these works are rarely shown. It was a rare privilege to see these giant ducks in this little place.

 

TAL Dai-ichi Collection State Library NSW

The Wingman

Lawrence Hargrave sculpture that sits overlooking Wollongong from the escarpment

Bert Flugelman had a beautiful studio amongst lyrebirds in the rainforest. It was sad news today to hear of this wonderful Australian sculptor’s passing yesterday at the age of 90.  He has left us beautiful works that are part of the Australian landscape.

Cones at National Gallery of Australia Sculpture Garden

One of my favourites is the work in the sculpture garden of the National Gallery in Canberra that is so familiar. The Australian bush is highly reflected in these wonderful stainless steel forms and people and birds are engaged by their distorted reflections.

Flugelman with Wingman by Guy Warren UOW Collection

His friend Guy Warren had won the Archibald  Prize in 1985 with a portrait “Flugelman with Wingman” and the work hangs in the library foyer at the University of Wollongong, commanding and inspiring.

Guy and Bert shared the wonderful commonality of Jamberoo, the little lush town where I had been only a few days ago with my artist friend.  The majority of his work so solidly metal and constructed had its roots in the organic and the love of the bush.

Tetrapus from Bondi Sculpture by the Sea

Words for Birds

Camel Gate 2007 Work in progress by John Wolsley

I can’t describe John Wolseley’s work easily. I might say that he is an explorer or an archeologist or an artist. His work makes me get lost.  I was looking for a book to blog about from my bookshelf and pulled this one out Lines For Birds by Barry Hill and John Wolseley, Poems and Paintings. I thought I might flick through and find a beautiful work to share but that was an hour ago. I have flicked and read and my mind has wandered in the same way Wolsley’s work takes you on an exploration through mark making.

With Carla yesterday spotting birds in the lush hills and cool bush, getting caught in a downpour and steamy hot weather reminded me of Wolsley. His work unfolds like the weather and colour of a day. He involves the paper in a landscape and draws from his immersion in what surrounds him. At times he lets the bush impact and may bury a work or leave it alone for some time and return to check on it’s alone-ness. He uses maps, weather, writing and meticulous drawing as well as random marks made by the environment.

Leaf Litter Bark and Birdsong Cobboboonee Forest detail 2006 2007

Detail Upside-down Flowers 1982

Poetry is just another extension of his work and it’s understandable that words would go hand in hand with his artwork. He is a truly remarkable artist and I have never enjoyed an art book as much as his Landmarks by Sasha Grishin. I remember sitting up in bed scribbling notes madly into my sketch book.  Lines for Birds is not only about Wolseley’s work but poetry on birds. I have included this excerpt from one of the poems by Barry Hill,

OVERALL PATTERN

There were two birds. One, in pencil, dreamed on graphite leaves,

it’s belly full of perfect fit with bed and dance and  dinner.

The more I looked the more I thought it merged with fine matter

drawn with the ease with which it could be erased.

Post Christmas Colour

Each Christmas gets curiouser and curiouser. This year was shared with my painter friend, Jane.  Rather than a traditional Christmas, we ate BBQ sausage sandwiches and painted and drank.  Trying to get back into some semblance of order post-Christmas and cleaning up the studio a tad, I decided to show my daughter my Christmas painting (as I had dubbed it).

Declaring to her “This is my Xmas painting.” I realised I had painted it primarily red and green. Maybe the result of too many Xmas mojitos, the heat and lamb and rosemary sausages but I can’t remember the original subject. Jane’s subject was the lake where we had walked the day before and I’m guessing mine had also originated from the same area. I do remember referring to a sketchbook. But the colours certainly aren’t relevant.

I had also lost a day in the midst of a week and fortunately collected my daughter from the airport on the right day (just!). So now I’m getting back into order, righting the chaos and so this painting is now half done, red and green, unwrapped but needs to be finished. I just don’t know what I’m finishing.