Jazz Green : Artist Journal

Posts tagged ‘collagraphs’

ever increasing circles

March 9th, 2010

Some recent printmaking experiments – intaglio prints made from some worn and discarded sandpaper discs that I have been collecting for a while.


[prints, proofs and other experiments on the wall]

Rather than retaining their perfectly circular shapes, I have instead been tearing and distressing the paper edges, as I print and reprint the proofs.


[eroded sandpaper used as a printing plate]

I also wanted to pursue the idea of the imperfect or broken circle, or with parts missing or two halves that don’t quite match – cracks , fissures, fused joints.


[detail of embossed surface textures]

Most of these first experiments are printed on white drawing paper, some are on Hahnemuhle, some on Khadi. I also tried some viscosity printing – a technique that enables you to print two, three or even four colours in one go – it requires more prep work but the results are immensely textured and tactile – and even the crumpled paper discards have visual appeal. Most of these initial trials will be heading for the collage drawer…but I have some heavyweight paper set aside for the next stage of printing…


[crumpled inked paper]

Thinking back to the earlier intaglio collagraphs on paper (on canvas), yet again I didn’t want to end up with a flat print, so I erased the evidence of the plate mark or edge by trimming some of the proofs, giving the print some potential as a sculptural form rather than a material mark on paper.


[more embossing textures]

During this time, I have been pondering on (or should that be inspired by?) the earth’s shifting tectonic plates and the so-called ‘ring of fire’ (according to scientists, Concepcion city has moved ten feet to the west since Chile’s earthquake), to the micro-ecologies of lichens, my collections of striated beach pebbles and hag stones, the geometric pattern on a dinner plate, even an abandoned bird’s nest that fits in the palm of my hand, and the strange fruit encountered in the hedgerow…


[lichens, found on churchyard gravestones in Suffolk]

striated beach pebbles
[collection of striated beach pebbles]


[pebbles with holes; hag stones]


[Barbara Brown dinner plate]


[a tiny bird's nest]


[strange fruit in hedgerow]

While printing some of these collagraphs (if printing from sandpaper comes under that category) I heard on Poetry Please (on Radio 4) the poem, Try to praise the mutilated world by Adam Zagajewski … (but I am sure some of its depth is lost in translation)…

Lastly, I have been accepted as a new member of Artworks. Established in 2000, Artworks is a dynamic group of thirty contemporary East Anglian professional artists working in a range of styles and media, some with national and international reputations. So, I am looking forward to the new connections and opportunities that being a member of Artworks will bring into my creative life.

when the wind blows

February 13th, 2010

Another abstract in an ongoing series of small mixed media works on canvas…


[Pompeii, collagraph and painting on paper and canvas, 5" x 5"]

Wikimedia led me to this pictorial reference for the above abstract (titled after its original creation) since these works are entirely about colour and texture, yet with a little analysis they link back to another place, another time… in this instance, to the remains of a villa in Pompeii…


Wall frescoes in the house of Lucretius, Pompeii (image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)

The red (Pompeiian red is also a pigment) and grey stripes appear to reference the patterned wall frescoes of the ancient villas, and of the stonework and structure of the interconnected streets and avenues of ancient Pompeii.

Many years ago I visited Pompeii… Although I didn’t realise it then, the ancient relics and the eroded, weathered facades of Italy, Greece and Turkey were to become a creative muse of sorts… I would love to go back to these places, with the benefit of wiser eyes… but I would probably take far too many photographs…

These are from an old photo album (I wonder how many people still compile photographs in albums these days, after the advent of digital photography and online sites such as flickr?). That’s me in the lower left picture, drinking from the water fountain (of youth!)… which prompted another visit to everyone’s favourite photo album Flickr to see how many others had recorded this very same location at Pompeii…

Google Maps has recently visited Pompeii too, so I persevered with Google’s virtual Street View and retraced my steps back to the original site of the water fountain…

Even with these many thoughts of distant travel on my mind, I would like to be homebound for a while… (if only to get on with some more artwork).

I had a horrid drive home from work the other evening, in what at first seemed to be sporadic snowfall – but about two thirds into my homeward journey it turned into a heavy blizzard. The falling snow quickly compacted to a sheet of ice under the weight of the rush hour traffic, as the main road had not been salted or gritted. My journey, which normally takes about an hour, in the end took three and a half hours. The queue of traffic slowed to a near standstill about ten miles from home, as the drivers ahead were finding it increasingly difficult to drive with any degree of control or safety.

The road was becoming near impassable – after two hours slow-driving on the most nervous of tenterhooks I didn’t want to have to drive any more. A couple of miles further on and I decided to abandon any hope of getting home by car and parked my vehicle on a wide bit of the roadside verge. I could see that some cars ahead were sliding on the ice and a large articulated truck had got into difficulty going uphill, stopping any flow of traffic – it was fast becoming an accident zone (and I do blame the council and those who said the snow and ice wouldn’t amount to much). Lots of cars were stuck in a static queue (myself included), occasionally crawling forward feeling the ever-present danger of the inevitable wobble and slide.

After I had parked up, I walked along the snaking line of the (now) stationary vehicles, and, as you do in a crisis, you empathise with their dilemma and then share a little rant about the council not gritting the roads (yet again) – but this time it was serious. Taking a slightly safer snow-underfoot path, I walked the half-mile or so into the nearby town, where a good friend and now saviour (after providing a much-needed cup of piping-hot tea) decided they would take the risk and drive me the last few glacial miles to my door – the drive was quite dicey in places, but arriving home has never felt so good.

I declined the early morning lift to pick up the car on the way to work, and decided I would instead walk the four or so miles back to the roadside verge later in the day. It was very cold but sunny as I set off and much of the snow had already melted – belying the ice-frightmare of the night before. Aside from the hassle of passing traffic (climbing high up onto the verge is always the safest procedure), the walk was quite relaxing – and not entirely without incident. A few minutes into this bracing midday stroll, I passed the small boatyard by one of the nearby lakes and was instantly captivated by the most unusual tinkling sounds coming from beyond the roadside hedgerow. A strong breeze, blowing through the hidden tangle of ropes, wires and chains of the boats’ fixtures and moorings, had made an uintentional but quite magical melody.

Click to listen to the breeze-created tinkling sounds from the boatyard…

The same wind that brought in the blinding white flurry of a blizzard the evening before, that forced the wind-chill that plummeted the temperatures to below zero, that created the perilous sheets of ice on the roads, the very next day quietly sang to me when no one else was around…

This weekend is the last chance to see the contemporary art exhibition, Elements: Man and the Environment, at the Forum, Norwich (read more about my work in the Elements exhibition).

another journey into colour

February 8th, 2010

It is very curious where this virtual journey into colour is leading, as every made-up colour combination finds its corresponding place on earth…


Tsavo, mixed media collagraph on paper and canvas


Tsavo East National Park, Kenya  (image courtesy of flickr)

The blue sky and scorched red earth give this vista some aesthetic appeal, but without fauna it looks to be a barren wilderness. I can imagine the occasional roaming herd of elephants emerging from a clearing in the trees, or seeing buffalo drinking at a water hole, but there will also be the parched bones of the less fortunate ones hidden in the scrub, savaged by the lions. This image gives no indication of a highway much travelled by the safari-hungry tourists, although a quick search on youtube returns more than enough shaky videos, with the resident wildlife often appearing less than amused. This is still a hunter’s landscape, of man and beast.


[Tsavo, detail]

I am not sure how long I will pursue this idea, mapping colours to a location, but at the present moment it has its rewards, with the added gratification of getting one’s work out there soon after it is made. These works are very small at 5″ x 5″, and are, in effect little objects (but not objet trouvé), faux tablet mementos to places that I have never visited. The larger canvases (the edgescapes) are distilled vistas of places I have been to, but to me they resonate with more distant and imagined landscapes scarred and ravaged by the elements. The farmscapes have their obvious mechanical, minimalist geometry, but on some days I question their formality, they seem too detached from their source. Making larger works also takes up all available space, so the work gets restricted by its surroundings and develops much more slowly. I guess that all artists have to deal with those if only moments – of a lack of space and resources. You can adapt your ideas or your work, but there is always a doubt inherent in that decision, in that it is a compromise, not a solution. That perpetual lack of space issue forces the change for now…

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The website of British Fine Artist Jazz Green MA RCA. Abstract landscape paintings, fine art photography. All images and text copyright the artist.