Point of Departure

Headland K Howell 14 cm x 21 cm Charcoal

     Playing with charcoal and oil pastel. The sticky oil pastel collects the charcoal dust in rich deposits, allowing you to scratch it away again if you choose. I love the variety of marks you can make with charcoal. I forget about the distinct lack of colour.
      I'm building a collection of sketches to use as a Point of Departure. Strange to see my table covered in shades of grey, but every few years it happens. I pick up a piece of charcoal and wonder why I ever bother using anything else.
     Also strange that this study is a Landscape. I mean, I'm playing by the rules. There's a foreground, a midground and a distant horizon. This is unusual. I'm not sure what to make of it.
     As you can see, I'm still a little in love with those stone-cut graves. But there are Others coming...

Ups and Downs

Moon is Downstairs K Howell Charcoal on board 6cm x 13 cm

 

 

     Stairs always give a space a lift. This set is incredible. Worn by time, this staircase is reverting to an organic, natural shape. The carefully cut stones have been hollowed by footsteps and collecting rainwater, the sharp edges lost over the years. I talked about an old painting of a new staircase-in-progress here. These stairs are nestled in a ruin dating to the 8th or 9th century. Some contrast.
     The stonework I've been looking at is amazing. Red sandstone hewn by Anglo Saxon tools and weathered by the elements. I've lots of development work to do, but it's satisfying  to be en route.
     Do you have a favourite flight? 

Exhibition at the Lancaster Environment Centre is on until 16 June 2012. A thumbnail gallery is available to view on my website .

At the Edge

Memory (a study) K Howell Pastel on Paper

 

     Some places are so hauntingly beautiful it's impossible to articulate the experience and equally impossible to not attempt... I spent some time on the headland at Heysham, Lancashire . The sort of place you stand and see Forever. Chill-inducing and unforgettable.
     Under the constantly changing sky and just beyond the reaching tide, there are these Human Memories carved in the stone of the headland. More like space left behind than graves, these shapes set in stone fill with rain water and reflect the sky.
     Some 12 years ago, there was a brilliant artist's residency in Heysham; Andrea Gregson took clay casts of these stone graves, also producing mixed media pieces using fabric, with shells and found materials filling the void shapes. Beautiful.
Anyway, the memory pulled at me, combined with the fact that the Human Void shape kept cropping up in my tree trunks.
     So very glad I went back. The visitor's Centre was closed, but I'm hoping there might be some photos on display from Andrea's residency. I'll check on the next visit...
     I seem to be thinking about time and memory, and look forward to playing with this Edge of the World landscape. If you've never been, I'd highly recommend dropping everything and going.

Blue Skies

Split Beech K Howell 2012 Pastel on Paper 14cm x 21 cm

      Catching my breath. I'm working on Other Things right now, but this tree caught my eye. It's remarkable. I enjoyed the shapes it gave the sky and the push/pull nature of the split trunk.
     Spring seems to be the right time for messing with new ideas, trying things out and playing. I'm preparing a few canvases as well as boards for variety and have spent more time than I care to quantify looking for the extra staples I'm sure I had. I've decided I like the look of nails better anyway, even if it's labour intensive because I hate shopping that much (Except for shoelaces, paint and books. Obviously.).
     It's a strange relief after preparing work for exhibition and dealing with it as product to go back to the raw material and start from scratch with the vaguest notion of what might happen this time. Like packing a bag for a journey and leaving, without actually buying a ticket anywhere, just thumbing a lift and hoping you don't get picked up by a psychopath. So where am I going? Well, I'll have something to show for myself sometime soon. In the meanwhile, this tree. Call it continuity.

Exhibition Notes

Undressed:

 A Body of Work Exploring Our Human Connection With Trees

Trees are our still, silent counterparts, rooted in the landscape. Our ladders to the stars. Trees have long provided a metaphor for the human condition as we search for our roots, branch out in new directions or turn over a new leaf. Their seasonal transformation can remind us of both our aspirations and our mortality. They stand as monuments to bare existence, dedicated to growth. Feet in the dirt, looking for the light, we are all, to some extent, planted here.

We share some similarities in design with trees, our basic physical structure of trunk and limbs and our interior landscape of branching blood vessels. I play with these likenesses in raw material and organic form. My work often has a narrative element, hinting at the mythic resonance suggested in tree forms. Some of the paintings describe human-shaped hollows in deadfall trunks, alluding to the Norse creation myth of Ask and Embla. According to the Poetic Edda, Odin drew these first two people from fallen Ash and Elm trunks. I frequently play with the idea of decaying wood bursting with life and being transformed through the narrative process of human imagination. It is a curious life we share with trees, sometimes stricken, always striving.

I work in the woods, drawing inspiration from being immersed in the landscape whilst making studies. Sharing the air. These initial studies are often done in chalk pastel because of the intensity and portability of the medium. The fragility and ephemeral qualities also appeal; chalk paintings can be ruined with a sneeze or a stray sleeve! Some of these studies become finished pieces, some I use to create larger paintings in oil or acrylic. Most of the time I choose to work with acrylic because of its flexibility and fast-drying properties. I work in layered glazes, energetic brushwork and dry over-painting. I tend to use a bent, slightly corroded palette knife to drag and scrape paint, sometimes needles, brush ends and sticks to scratch the surface. Working this way, I try to find a balance between building and revealing colour, coaxing a painting into being. A piece is finished when I feel the raw material has been remade to express something of my experience in the landscape, complete with growth and erosion, infused with the strength and energy of the inspiring trees. Animate and resilient.

I’ve included blog posts written about particular pieces, and I hope these give you some feel for where the work is coming from and how it comes about in specific instances. Your comments are most welcome; please take a card with my contact details or leave your thoughts in the notebook provided.

Thanks for having a look!

Many thanks to the LEC for hosting this exhibition. Please contact the artist with any queries about the work or sales. 

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Visit the website Friday 23 March for more details...

Undressed

There will be more on the website soon, once the actual work is on walls. Virtual Preview:

Friday, 23 March 

Do drop by, have a virtual drink, and leave a link to your work!

Mounting Excitement

Adrift (Hammerhead Shark Form) K Howell 2012
 Pastel on Paper 28cm x 28cm

     If you've ever worked in Framing, you'll know that getting the mount right is pretty fundamental. The word overcut still sends a chill through my system.  But there are so many ways to be inadequate when cutting mounts. My supervisor, when I was training, used to quote the cost of the sheet before I cut anything; just to clarify what was at stake. Rather drained the joy from playing with a razor blade.
     So I have this pile of work to be prepared for exhibition, and I need to cut mounts. It's a bit like renting a suit for an Occasion. The sharp, finished edges give pieces the protection they need to go out into the world. A mount gives work some breathing space within the clear boundaries of the frame.
     Cutting mounts is enjoyable for a repetitive task, because by the time you've cut three perfect sides, it becomes Vital that the fourth cut be exact. And to keep things running smoothly, there's lighter fluid. Exciting!
      So I'm not really thinking about putting work Out There so much as I'm looking forward to the curious thrill of cutting mounts.
More exhibition details soon.