Jazz Green : Artist Journal

Posts tagged ‘found drawings’

here are two small abstract paintings on paper from the series now known as chromatids (derived from colour, identity and dna)… there are one hundred of these and i do not think these two particular paintings have had a public viewing before (they can also be viewed ‘actual size’ here)…


LXIII and XLVII, mixed media painting on paper, 15cm x 15cm

striations, as it turned out, were the most direct, uncomplicated means of exploring elemental colours and textures on a very small scale – they also began to be about developing a narrative within the process, of texture & surface and how the colours related and interacted within the ragged, irregular edges of the paper – the pattern of striations echoed what i had observed in the rural environment, scenes composed of the weathered, worn surfaces & rough edges that most appealed to me visually. these close-up, abstract photographs were all taken in early 2008, shortly after being given a new camera to play with…

recalling again how this series of one hundred paintings first came about (it was a dull, drizzly day in early november 2008) has caused me once more to muse upon the japanese aesthetic of wabi sabi, an appreciation of the understated, the transient, ephemeral or imperfect. for myself, understanding the aesthetic or philosophy of wabi sabi, it seems to first arise within, in a sensing, a feeling, an intuition or an awareness, that momentarily surrenders up the ego in reverence for the object or scene, that acknowledges the relevance of time or location upon it, and that it can be experienced any time or anywhere if one is mindful enough to see it…

there is definitely something in wabi sabi that speaks very much about my own artistic inspiration, something that i can trace right back to my mixed media collages, but i am not sure one can faithfully make an artform of it, for wabi sabi is what it is

in early 2005 i had sketched out a mindmap about the the perception of the landscape and the environment, in which transience, impermanence, stillness and the effects of time surfaced as major keywords. much later, in september 2007, i once again found myself contemplating where i was headed within the environmental nature of my art – and i was reminded of things that are discarded or rejected, that situations do and will change, that nothing is permanent. i had also briefly referred to solitude a couple of months earlier and the importance of time in the making of my art.

i didn’t write anything in this journal for a few months, except for the posting of some photographs of a painting that i had completed, a painting appropriately entitled shrede (an archaic spelling of ’shred’), implying a slow scraping back or paring down of layers, and what remains, tattered, torn and fragmented. the outward signs of impermanence and an inner sense of solitude eventually led on to a very meandering, philosophical path eastwards, towards all things quiet, gentle, calm and ultimately zen, one that made me realise that an awareness of situations or things could actually mean something much more than the sum of their parts – it did not need a name, but it offered up some new interpretations…

over the last week a few hours have been spent out in the garden, on some required ‘tidying-up tasks’, pruning back overgrown hedges and shrubs, fixing up fences (there is always more work to do, it seems). back in the summer i took these two photographs of a blackbird’s nest that i had discovered in one hedge, images which i later accidentally erased (hence the previous post on rescuing deleted images from a camera) but i have found them again, safe and well…


[a blackbird's nest, 18 july 2010]

the same two blackbirds that i had observed nesting in a tangle of clematis earlier in the spring had made a new nest in a different location – just a small incident of nature quietly at work…


[baby blackbirds, 25 july 2010]

in this autumn clear-up i have subsequently discovered many more birds nests of varying sizes and designs, suggesting that the parts of the garden which were left the most undisturbed had become something of a sanctuary to nature… but i did wonder if any of the garden birds would be returning to use these nests again in the spring; i found the answer to whether birds do or don’t reuse their nests on the RSPB website…

yesterday, i spied this intricate slug drawing on a leaf…

does this exude a little of the wabi sabi aesthetic? it is part of the boundary fencing that my neighbour had put up a few years ago (sans chamber pot, of course) – i rather like it, even though it is far from perfect…

i went out for a little lichen reconnaissance yesterday; i had to remind myself just how diminutive these living, symbiotic organisms called lichens really are, having lost somewhat any sense of the true scale of the situation… but whilst there i discovered some particularly fascinating found drawings

i shall try to explain why these are unlike the usual accidental, scrawled & scraped textures which may aesthetically be regarded as a found drawing (or a found painting, the matter of which may need further clarification in a future post), in the accepted meaning of physical marks visually recorded in response to something else, usually made on a surface…

these are drawings made by ivy. one can clearly see the eroded traces of its prior existence, the pattern of growth, aerial roots in search of water and nutrients, the clamouring for light in every crooked twist and turn… the following four images were found in two different locations on the outside of a church and the drawings (as i perceived them to be) bore noticeable differences in their designs, which made me ponder…

these first two images are close-up sections of the wall shown above. this roughly rendered facade faces east and is sheltered to the south by a brick wall and to the north by a dense boundary of trees. this very convoluted impression of the ivy’s growth seems coded with some meaning, worthy of some visual analysis – wonderful whorls, contour lines, tight coils and concentric circles, a lasting (but not everlasting) imprint of nature at work…

one could easily make visual associations with topographical maps or satellite imagery of the earth, but i was also reminded of ancient inscriptions, lexicons, symbols or hieroglyphs… look unto these walls…

this is another wall, from the same church; it faces due south…

here the ivy drawing seemed more fluid and calligraphic in nature, the lines stretched out more elegantly, creating a much slower, meandering path across the wall’s surface, perhaps following the course of a hairline fissure in the render (or else it was one of its own making, such is the tenacity of ivy).

there must also be some relevancy, i thought at the time, to the differences in light and moisture in this south-facing location, when comparing these found drawings to the much busier drawings previously seen on the other wall… it was something to think about…

a phrase that has been rattling around in my head recently is intellectual rigour… i thought that i had read it somewhere (or maybe i am just imagining it) but i actually heard it on radio 4 yesterday, serendipitously while transfering the photographs of the found drawings to my computer – so perhaps i am just ‘tuned in’ to it, wherever it occurs. whilst i think there is some conceptual grounding to the found art idea i do not think it has enough intellectual rigour…

BUT, what if i were to create a situation where i grew stuff, such as ivy, or mould or whatever, and then either feed it or deny it light, water or nutrients, how this would control the pattern of growth and influence any resulting ‘accidental’ traces of their organic activity on a pre-defined surface, assuming this to be a way of forcing nature to make some art… any intellectual rigour suggests that one should be more academic and methodical and leave no hypothetical stone unturned (but what wonders i should find underneath real ones…). i did actually find a recipe for encouraging lichens to colonise on various surfaces but it would be quite a wait for any form of art to emerge from it…

an artist that came to mind who intervenes with or uses nature as a means of making his own art is tim knowles. i first came across his work in a little show in the cut gallery a few years back. he is one of those more scientifically-minded artists, a little bit heath robinson, making complicated contraptions, devices or drawing machines, harnessing the powers of nature (natural phenomena such as the wind or light from the moon) to make ‘his’ art (is it a creative collaboration or is nature the real artist here?).


tim knowles, tree drawing (willow), 2006

i realy like the concept of knowles’ tree drawings and his website is well worth a look, but you don’t get to see much detail of the finished drawings, more the machines that made them – this is an important part of the artist’s practice, the systems or methods employed to create the work. another artist worth a mention in this context is the norfolk-based artist roger ackling, whose work i particularly admire, as it is very delicately crafted, often small in scale, combining found materials with a very intricate, controlled method of drawing using the power of sunlight…


roger ackling, voewood, sunlight on wood, 2008

so, here i am, re-creating in my spare time, but with technically quite robust art materials (aside from a bit of chalk, soot, metal powder, sand, dust or plain ol’ dirt), the seemingly ephemeral traces of rust spots and encrusted striations, the pattern of lichens on stone or the subtle blooms of mould on a wall… i wonder what is lost or gained in the translation…

a few years back i wrote in an email to an artist (who had first emailed me regarding my paintings) that i would like to leave my canvases out in the elements and let nature do its beautiful/ugly workings, let them go to rot, so to speak – the only problem being that rot is, in the end, rotting and rotten – there is no archival permanence to it, it makes things more fragile, fugitive, dust to dust and all that…


detail of a lost painting, 2010

what i wanted to do was to make permanent (for myself) these signs of impermanence as i experienced them, but simultaneously i wanted to be drawn into another world or landscape that i perceived just beyond the immediate surface, perhaps just a reflection of my altered state of mind at the time, and not just recreate the raw materiality of the object… i also wanted to conceal some of the made by human hands aspect of the process of creating a painting, to de-personalise it (again for myself, in order to rediscover or re-live the initial aesthetic experience) – thus, the use of various materials and techniques to apply, layer, alter, blend, blur, cover up or reveal, slowly embedding a secret (and vital) history into the surface… as i wrote once before, it’s colour applied; some of it lived and some of it died


another detail of a lost painting, 2010

i know that in the end the current lichen paintings will evolve to be something quite different from their initial source (the source being, by its very nature and location, separated from my own place of work) – formally synthesized, abstracted and distilled (a word that i probably overuse but it conveys the raw ‘essence of seeing’), my own re-creations, that come to exist in themselves and won’t knowingly have their contextual twins in the real environment…

s is for seeing, a sign

June 28th, 2010

chanced upon, in the ‘city’, the discarded ‘trim’ of a payslip – it is, after all, that time of the month

i was there to attend a workshop, and even with a map to guide me there, i was looking more at the pavement, equipped with my camera in the hope that the textures of the city might ‘provide plenty of opportunity for the development of aesthetic sensibility’… i arrived at my destination three slides into the standard-format-for-training-purposes powerpoint… and came away three hours later with many paper-based resources, all conveniently collated in a file…

so, a brisk walk through the city’s streets turned up some more found drawings… perhaps this is becoming rather repetitive but, in this stone wall, exhibited within each block, was a very different and unique drawing, in the mark-making, colours and textures; i liked the composite grouping…

around the corner, an entirely different wall, made of flint… curiously appealing in its suggestion of the natural environment and yet an entirely functional building material, the breeze-block of its day…

later, some vertical shutters… not really a found drawing or painting, but seemed worthy of a snapshot…

and then later still, as if by magic, came a message came from beyond the grave – tony hart beckoned, in the form of an art book found in a charity shop – a positive ‘must have’ when discovered deep within the reduced box at just 50p… delightful ‘light reading’ for the journey home…

i do have quite small hands, all i really need are some big ideas…

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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.