Jazz Green : Artist Journal

Posts tagged ‘sketchbook’

i have been focusing on some printmaking lately – but today, dear reader, you might like to take a peek inside this recent sketchbook…

sketchbook drawings - trees in a landscape

last weekend i started & subsequently filled this most diminutive of sketchbooks with some simple line drawings… each sketch is 10cm x 14.5cm…

sketchbook drawings - more trees in a landscape

travelling about with a pocket-sized sketchbook and an ink pen…

sketchbook drawings - trees in a landscape

here is a selection of some of those small sketches…

sketchbook drawings - a gnarled old tree

observing & remembering the patterns of the natural, material world…

sketchbook drawings - tree bark

such as a tree slightly leaning, its bark gnarled…

sketchbook drawings - water surface patterns

or watching where the water flows…

sketchbook drawings - surface patterns water

and where the earth grows…

sketchbook drawings - surface patterns made by water

something can be found…

sketchbook drawings - more patterns

from looking at the ground…

sketchbook drawings - sky

or somewhere way up high…

sketchbook drawings - dark skies

in the darkness of a sky…

sketchbook drawings - night sky

seeing clouds perhaps, or infinity in the absence of them…

i really like the limitation of size and drawing implement – but it is not planned that way, nor perhaps is it even relevant to my abstract paintings, but if someone was to pack me off to greenland on a drawing expedition i would probably be very happy to go… every artist should draw something everyday for it enables one not just to observe but to think singly & deeply about something, even just for a short time… i always find myself reminded by the simple process of drawing how sometimes it seems so difficult to really understand how another person might think, feel or respond to something, how difficult it is to communicate a personal sense of something that has no adequate means to describe it; but artists will always try and this is what makes art so special…

a while back i conveyed to a very accomplished artist how i felt i had come to a crossroads with anything created in the abstract (i have had similar conversations with many people), about how i felt i was not always succeeding in conveying a genuine feeling about something, without resorting to the means of illustration… there was no answer other than trying to find a new way of getting an aspect of my character into the work… i do not want to drastically change course, but rather i want to consolidate the voice that is undeniably and uniquely me… i guess the truth is, i already have it but i won’t find it by looking elsewhere…

i was quietly sitting in the garden one sunny afternoon and very soon spied the covert movements of a wood pigeon making a nest. i didn’t know whether it was a male or a female but this particular garden bird rustled in the top of the spindly bamboo with a furious flapping of wings, with a slightly ungainly, shuffling side-step manoeuvre along a very slim-looking branch, finally hopping into the dense greenery. after a short while the wood pigeon would reappear again, waddle its way back along the skinny branch to fly off again. she (or he) would then return a minute or so later with a long strand of meadow grass or a thin twig clasped in its beak and once again make the awkward, sideways shuffle back towards the location of the nest.

photograph of a wood pigeon building a nest

a wood pigeon building a nest in the garden – rather conveniently, she/he seemed unruffled when i went in to get the camera, and was even prepared to wait a moment for the close-up…

there is another wood pigeon nesting high up in another tree, hidden among some rambling honeysuckle; she has been sitting on her eggs for four weeks or more… meanwhile, the grumplesome hen of henley house’s own nesting quarters, for all the appearance of wanting to brood herself, has steadfastly refused to lay a single egg since late april… am i to be the brooding, quarrelsome hen or the hard-working wood pigeon?

anyone with a garden and a mind to make something of it will have been busy these last few weeks. i proudly potted up ten small courgette plants grown from seed (that’s zucchini to any passing americans) in early may, five black and five yellow (plain green is just so last year) and placed them outside, only for them to be caught by the first morning frost in what seemed like months – all my green-fingered work instantly undone. one yellow courgette plant has since survived and three of the black courgette plants also appear to be slowly springing back to life from their shrivelled stems… so, ne’er cast a clout ’til may be out (or whatever; i’ll get my coat…)

now, we hope for more characteristic british weather to quench the dusty, arid earth, after what has been the driest (and probably the warmest) april on record. the months of april and may passing us by without a good ol’ fashioned drenching doubtless signals that august will once again be characterised by many days of rain…

dear reader, it seems like it has been a while since i last wrote, due to a certain ambivalence about the relentless task of blogging (too much of the introspective grouch)… much has happened which is relevant to the life of this contemporary artist, but there is no need to share it here… i had cause to think back five years, to how i assumed that writing a blog might invite some exchange and subsequently change… i realise now that the creative exchanges that i most draw upon tend to come from the small, real world that i actually inhabit… art is art, and everything else is everything else

nature studies

March 8th, 2011

i went back to the local wildlife fen last week and completed these two quick nature studies plein air… as perceived/recorded, limited by time, size and materials… a good artist friend had given me a small sketch pad of watercolour paper; it seemed churlish not to use it… these two studies are in watercolour and watercolour pencil…

local wetland fen - sketch in watercolour, acrylic, pencil

i thought it would be interesting to photograph the studies in situ, but in order to get both the drawing/painting and the ‘real’ landscape in the frame, the wide angle lens made the subject appear much further away than my own perception of it.. it seemed interesting too, in a phenomenological sense, to offer with one image, both the before and after, the past (as i first saw it), the present (as it appears now) and the future (in the objectiveness of such a material study)… and the apparent act of free will or intention in mark-making and gesture and yet controlled by the circumstances in which they are derived…

local nature fen - sketch in watercolour, acrylic and pencil

i guess that if i really pushed myself i could do more studies like this and perhaps get better at them, but this was not the day to pursue that, as it turned out…

the little canvas on the prairie

February 26th, 2011

another episode in the creative space-time continuum conveniently afforded by my virtually travelling small i-cons series… shown here in the now customary small canvas pose

prairie - abstract canvas - mixed media intaglio print
prairie 2011, 15cm x 15cm

i completed four more i-con canvases last weekend, this here little prairie being just one of them, the others i might reveal in due course… the i-cons are intaglio prints from handmade collagraph printing plates, individually hand-coloured and neatly collaged onto a box canvas…

prairie - abstract mixed media canvas - by artist jazz green

i am aware that the process of making traditional prints then fashioning the prints into more tactile objects (albeit still vaguely pictorial ones) seems also to embody a rural craft aesthetic… perhaps that is my intention, that they cross that boundary..

prairie - contemporary abstract on canvas - by artist jazz green

and where was this particular canvas headed? why the state of kansas in the usa – but i really should have taken a road map and my virtual reality sketchbook…

so, having landed somewhere deep in the kansas prairies, i then travelled back in time, to the dust bowl of the thirties, the association with the wizard of oz a most curious incidental connection in the process, a psychological, imaginary journey conversely inverted… here is another view of my own prairie, perhaps echoing wooden structures battered by a storm, wind-ravaged crops and dark dust clouds settling on a dim horizon…

prairie - small abstract intaglio print, collaged on canvas

[prairie 2011, 15cm x 15cm, intaglio collagraph on canvas]

my virtual travels slowly unravelled into a bit of an american history lesson… i have seen the wild grass prairies, the fields of shimmering gold and cotton plantations, the enslavement & racial tensions, the old farmsteads & migrant cabins, the depressing dust clouds that shadowed an ecological disaster of mankind’s making, dark skies and a slow exodus of people homeless & hungry, straight-as-a-die dust tracks, winds that whipped them westwards, eerie ghost towns & deserted gasoline stations, oil-pumps in skeletal silhouette, herds of roaming cattle, tumbledown tin barns & ranch houses, the rule of law and a sense of order, then a cavalcade and a smoking gun, the burning flares of a rocket roaring through the ether, wild rodeo kicks & other cowboy tricks, the neon signs of roadside motels & all-you-can-eat diners serving supersize steaks… from kansas to oklahoma and then onwards to texas – it was all a bit of a whirlwind and i was thankful to be home at last…

prairie - concentric circles - abstract canvas

[prairie, digitally circulised]

i was very moved by some images that i viewed in the american library of congress archives, specifically those that related to the ‘dust bowl’ era – abandoned farmhouses half submerged by soil dunes, seeing only the very top branches of trees, and refugees camped out by the edges of barren fields. i wonder if matters have come full circle again, learning little about the precarious ecological balance of a planet that we want to call our home..

but history also provides a means of seeing a prettier picture…

i used to like watching little house on the prairie as a child. i couldn’t remember where exactly it was set, but after a quick trip to the information portal wikipedia i discovered that walnut grove was/is in fact a real place in remote minnesota, but the tv series was filmed in california. i do remember it was loosely based on the true life story of laura ingalls-wilder (whose original series of books inspired the tv series), and i have since discovered she lived in many different places during those pioneering days of the late 1800s…

prairie abstract - intaglio print on canvas

[prairie 2011, 15cm x 15cm, intaglio print on canvas]

so, once transported back to the factual/fictional location of walnut grove, i began to imagine a simpler way of life in the little homestead surrounded by wild grass meadows and golden fields…

of sweet ma & pa ingalls and the too good daughters who looked quite unrelated, laura’s tears & ears and mary’s blonde hair & blindness, the prairie aprons & pretty dresses, the ribbons & bonnets, the handmade gifts from the heart, the hearth and the kitchen, baking sweet apple pie and the rattle of tin plates & pans, the wooden slat steps up to bed, the belief in the bible, the old reverend and the little white church on a sunday, the faithful horse & wagon, the toil of the land and the bounty of harvest, the bundles of school books and the kindly school teacher, mr olesen the storekeeper, his irascible wife and one very spoilt daughter…

i was also reminded of watching the walton’s (portraying a different era in american history), whose home, by british standards, seemed to be the size of a small hotel (with very thin walls, apparently)… can anyone imagine one hundred years from now watching with some rose-tinted fondness the stories of how we used to live..?

but there’s no place [quite] like home… this week i also chanced upon a real life visit to a local fen by way of an appointment in the area, but i hadn’t anticipated being caught in a downpour… these quick photographs seemed interesting enough to post here, with a similar colour palette to the small prairie canvas…

[a view of the fen, before the rain, an overcast afternoon]

[i liked watching the reeds appear to draw ink lines through the surface of the water]

[more reeds & water, but the camera soon gets quite misty eyed]

[another kind of drawing (or an abstract painting), made by rain, water and some reeds]

this last photograph reminded me of some quick rain-induced sketches from last year – by that i mean some spontaneous mark-making made in my sketchbook while stranded in the rain (i was out drawing clouds but then the rain came down unexpectedly)…

[sketchbook, in a rainstorm]

*prairie has ecological resonances with an earlier work in this series, congo