Day 6 - Kurt Schwitters Merz Barn Residency

After finishing my book yesterday, I was left with lots of different ideas for how to start testing and playing. I wanted to carry on with the mini-projects I had begun to set myself (I like good project), they were proving both useful and practical. 

I was beginning to find my voice again, after initially going on this residency with the aim to strengthen my ideas and challenge concepts within my practice, I was gradually learning bit by bit more about myself. Re-discovering why it is that I am so immensely fascinated with colour and light combined. 

Luminosity was the word that encapsulated both interests in a way that made sense to me. The notion of luminous colour seeping, spilling, bleeding and staining the surfaces around us has been present in my practice for years, now I had a word for it. 

In the essay 'The Luminous and the Grey' Batchlor writes;

Luminous colours, however old they are, appear to have a particular relationship with the world around them and with their beholders that is unlike that of other colours. First, these are colours that escape their containers and bleed into the street; they deliver what colour always promises bus doesn't always achieve: a release from the surfaces and materials that support it, a release that leads to the fleeting magic of the 'fiery pool reflecting in the asphalt'. p.49

My has always been my challenge and interest to capture this notion within my practice. This concern, I feel, now has to be researched, pulled apart and made into being work, as my understanding of the medium deepens.

Reading whilst on this residency has been initially challenging for me, but has given my so much back in return. When I return home, I shall keep it up, keep learning and keep feeding this knowledge back into the work I develop.

Today I started to think about luminous colour within nature (as it was on my doorstep). Making a series of 'colour slides' which became little jewels when held up to a light source. I was thinking small-scale in order to trial the idea, the photographs below demonstrate how flat surface colour become luminescent.

Remember what I wrote on Day 3? - "What interests me about colour in the natural/rural landscape is the vividness created when the intensity of the sun shines onto/though it. More on that later…" In this experiment I was testing this thought out, instead of using the sunshine (of which there was very little on this cold autumnal day) I used a bulb.

Day 5 - Kurt Schwitters Merz Barn Residency

As my residency continued into day 5 at the famous Merz Barn, I became increasing aware that I had slowed my pace of life down. Reading had pretty much taken over as my daily task, then amusing myself by making relatively quick responses to the chapters in the form of mini-projects.

So far these mini-projects were helping me understand the meaning and concept of each chapter, allowing for a deeper knowledge of colour concerns, perceptions and discussion.

Today I had reached the last chapter. It was all about grey. I am not fond of grey, admittedly. The rest of of book had highlighted the use of luminous colour around us; in the media, in our cities, in our general everyday lives and why is is so brilliant and optimistic. I was not looking forward to the chapter on grey. I thought to myself - "no one is ever going to manage to convince me that grey is a worthy colour, is it even a colour? - more like a tone..."

I read on regardless, trusting the voice of the author wholeheartedly. His writing so far had been accurate, believable and educating.

David Batchelor's first line of the chapter is; "Grey is the colour of dying" - great! The last sentence of the chapter finishes describing the closing sequence of Andrei Tarkovsky's film Andrei Rublev (1966), it reads:

"The last, silent shot returns to the living world and to a panorama of grey, but a quieter, more humane and perhaps more luminous grey."

LUMINOUS F*****G GREY! The longest and most convincing chapter by far, but all that was written in between these two quotes was the most useful of all. I have been looking at grey as the neutral, bland, pessimistic, nothing colour for years.

I went outside of the gallery and pondered, looked around me; I noticed blues, reds, greens, oranges and all different colours within the greys around me. I realise that this is not a breakthrough for mankind, but I had been so dismissive about grey that I had not looked past the end of my own nose (and I have a sizable nose!) and so this was a small revelation for me personally.

"It is close to impossible in practice to find a grey that is not inflected by some other colour, although the not-grey of grey often only becomes visible as two or more different greys are placed next to each other. It is as if when a patch of grey is first seen it is more assumed than observed." p.78

Having completed this chapter and finished the book, I went off in the beautiful landscape and woodland of the Cylinders Estate where the Merz Barn is located with my camera and came back with the following set of images - as confirmation that blue -grey, red-grey, green-grey, really do exist and are BEAUTIFUL! 

The last image is more of a luminous grey than all the others - the sky!

Now I had finished my book and nearly finished my residency - what was I going to do?

 

Day 4 - Kurt Schwitters Merz Barn Residency

Today's mini-project revolved around the notion of how we remember surface colours and how our eyes respond to light.

Batchelor writes about the way in which we see colours as the property of the object. Even in different lighting conditions; our colour memory tells us what colour we think am object is. We make assumptions about the colour of an object based on what we have previously experienced, even when we see the same object under different lighting e.g. in a darkened room.

Colour constancy: "The facility that enables us to piece together wildly divergent perceptual experience of colours - a coloured object in sunlight, at dusk, in shade, at a distance, in varieties of artificial light, against other colours and so on" Batchelor suggests.

"Seeing the same objects under... different illuminations, we learn to get a correct idea of the object colours in spite of different illumination. We learn to judge how such an object would look in white light, and since our interest lies entirely in the object colour, we become unconscious of the sensations on which the judgement rests." - Hermann von Helmholtz (physicist and theorist of visual perception)

I wanted to test this theory.

I gathered a few objects from the Cylinders Estate, all of which depicted colouration of the chemical variety; colour only available within industrial manufacture (plastic, paint, etc). The hue in these objects is unchanging, until decay and weathering takes hold. They are entirely monochrome.

I photographed them under different lighting conditions: outdoor natural light; against a natural background, under artificial light; fluorescent and halogen. Below are the resulting images.

Although my experiment was fairly crude, it points out exactly what the text is talking about.

I am trying to think about exactly which colour I remember these objects to be; out of the possible three differences I saw. I 'think' of it to be the most vivid. To someone else, however, this could be different.

Interesting much....

Day 3 - Kurt Schwitters Merz Barn Residency

Firstly focusing on the preface of Batchelors The Luminous and the Grey I found the initializing of the argument to be about how and why colour exists in the world around us.

"It is not the presence of colour in a work that matters but the use of that colour; it isn't whether the colour is there that is at stake but what that colour does" - p.17

This got me thinking about where colour resides in the natural environment and asking myself: does it interest me?

What interests me about colour in the natural/rural landscape is the vividness created when the intensity of the sun shines onto/though it. More on that later...

For today, though I thought I would focus on surface colour, as that is highlighted in the preface. Instinctively it is the colours of chemical manufacture that interest me most; those vivid in hue and with strong saturation. Whilst residing in a rural landscape I wondered what the juxtaposition between natural colour and artificial colour would look like.

I also wanted to make a start by playing and involving my hands (baring in mind it was now Wednesday and the week seemed to be flying by) . I systematically wrapped from top to bottom green cotton thread around a dying plant. At first I just wrapped one, but then decided that in order to make an impact and become noticeable I would do several; this took me all day. 

  

By the end of the day I was satisfied with what I had done, but also felt that I wanted to learn more and so read on.

Today's work was futile in its longevity but useful in its concept. It did what I wanted and thought it might do, It got me going. However small, however insignificant in the grand scheme of things, it was a beginning, and everything has to start somewhere.

Day 2 - Kurt Schwitters Merz Barn Residency

After an interesting first day of exploring the estate where the Merz Barn is located, I tried to set myself to work on something, anything.

I struggled.

I had put way too much pressure on myself to fabricate something, but I did not know what to make. I had so many elements around me to explore, so many exciting forms and shapes, different colours, equipment and not a clue what to do with them all.

You could say I was overwhelmed.

I felt I should be making something. I felt I had a very limited amount of time on this residency in which to come away with something credible, exciting, final and/or lasting.  

I tried to make something out of found bamboo sticks; a shape in the landscape. My aim was to cover it in plastic and light from within; trying to think about a future commission I had been set. It didn't work, the bamboo was too weak to hold sturdy. It collapsed shortly after this photo was taken. Boo! But maybe that was a good thing, because if it had worked then I would of spent all week playing with that idea and that would not have allowed for new struggles, deliberations and new ideas.

After a moment of self-torment I grabbed a staple gun and a roll of plastic sheeting attached it to the length of a whole wall in the Shippon Gallery. This was to become the basis for the outpourings of my brain for the duration. A brain chart, a mind map, a spider diagram, whatever you call...

I started by en-circling four things to focus on:

• Why be an artist?
• What does my work intend to say/do?
• Why colour?
• Why light?

I added a few things initially, but then started pondering and scratching my head - hard! This residency was starting to push me mentally and emotionally. I never expected to feel like this, or be doing this. I expected to be making, but I wasn't.

I had brought some books with me on the off chance that I might pick them up for a read. Let me enlighten you on my reading habits - I don't! - I am dyslexic (aren't most artists?) and therefore struggle to read a chapter before instantly forgetting it, I find myself reading the same line over and over, I loose concentration and therefore I hate it, it is a chore.

But, BUT I decided, seeing as there was little else to do, except procrastinate by going on a lovely walk (which I didn't), that I should read. Part of the Merz Barn set-up includes a little yurt library that Ian and co built in a day. It is a cosy hub full of his art book collection, soft chairs and a heater. I curled up in there with a cup of green tea and got stuck in. I had selected David Batchelors newest essay 'The Luminous and the Grey' as my starting point.

 

For me this was a momentous occasion. The last book I read cover to cover (not sure I should be telling you this) was over 7 years ago!!!!

I began to recognise theories and arguments relating to the use of colour in out direct environments, it made sense. I hurriedly circled interested snippets and quotes. It felt like all my questions could be answered, whereas before I thought they couldn't and wouldn't be. This is not to say I haven't read around my subject, but instead I have dipped in and out of essays.

I made the decision to set myself mini-projects in response to and after I had read each chapter or section. A starting point.

Day 1 - Kurt Schwitters Merz Barn Residency

Arriving at the Cylinders Estate; the location of Kurt Schwitters Merz Barn in Cumbria, last Monday was like entering a little bubble. A bubble where life is simple and pure.

Fellow artist Alana Tyson and I were to be artists-in-residence for one week (13th - 19th October) in an attempt to push ourselves, our practices and perhaps an opportunity to spend some time together. I could have gone alone, but didn't want to, I felt that the opportunity would be perfect for the both of us and that the critique and conversation that we would engage with together would be helpful.

 

As soon as we arrived Ian Hunter gave us a tour of the grounds and then left us to it. It was time to explore. We made our beds, brought our (limited) bag of equipment into the residency space, unloaded our shopping for the week and made some lunch. It was glorious to just be able to sit outside and eat. A pleasure I rarely have at home as I am without a garden. 

There was a synergy between the indoors and the outdoors. Where the outside space acted as another room. I would step from one 'room' to another as I do in my house, except in this instance I was breathing in fresh air and sitting on a bench. 

I love the outdoors and wish I could spend more time in it. Just by having this simple pleasure I was starting to think about my future; where I might like to life one day; somewhere more rural perhaps?; How important was outdoor space to me? Very! etc, etc. How does living in the city effect my work and ideas? I tend to move too fast!

 

After lunch it was time to get to 'work'. But in this first instance, work did not mean making art, it meant the daily chores of living in the natural landscape. We chopped wood for the log burning stove, we fed the chickens, we retrieved our first fleshing laid egg, got the fire going and explored the woodlands surrounding us ready for potential pursuits in the week to come. 

  

As Autumn is well and truly upon us (Kurt Schwitters favourite time of year, as I am told to believe), the colours around us were of all hues. It was a treat to be a part of. Normally I am not a fan of this time of year as the darker nights draw in and the colder it becomes. I suffer from S.A.D and am frightened of the looming depression I always find myself in at this time of year. However, seeing the foliage change colour in front of my eyes and being outdoors and therefore making most of the natural light that I wouldn't usually see - as I would be wrapped up indoors - felt very different from this time of year in the city. 

It was the perfect time of year to take up residence in this type of setting for me. I also had a lot of questions to ask myself about my art practice; Why, why, why?

I had come a point where I wanted to question my ideas and bring in-depth context to the work. This residency was the perfect time to do this. I had one week, starting NOW.....