nervousSYSTEM

I've been in the work zone since I last wrote here - I've made the work for my upcoming exhibition 'nervousSYSTEM' @ Gallerysmith in North Melbourne Nov 10 - Dec 10 2011.
Here is my artist statement to go with this work:

This past winter found me in a frightening place. My own body, the bodies of others, even landscapes I treasure – under attack; Illness, injury, the threat of death. Events demonstrated that eventual confrontation with tragedy is inescapable. Tragedy is essentially a part of life, just as predation belongs in life. 

My artists’ task then was to find visual equivalence for the experience inside my body; the nuanced throb of adrenaline and fright, pulsing into the tiniest branches of my nervous system, a deep primal anxiety of annihilation persisting in my psyche and expressed as the surge and flutter of hair triggered impulses- escape! survive!

Making the work, I've understood how important, how truly vital is the art of metaphor. The act of creating these images, of taking dried up twigs and desiccated straw and forming them into pictures, has made a space for fear in my life. I found myself shifting into a new acceptance of its presence.

And witnessing the delicate and responsive light sensitivity of the paper I soften and find compassion for the depth of my feelings, accept that sensitivity must amplify sorrow, and I hear how the heart calls for a willing vulnerability and the courage to feel.

As this process metaphorically revitalised the plants, so my feelings have been transformed.

I've learned how, under cover of darkness, hope grows back, forging its way through tiny capillaries, and developing tender new roots.


titles in order below
escape
entropy
predator
sap

CANOPY

These prints have been difficult in their execution - wrangling large branches into the darkroom and leaving enough room to work is an achievement in itself. There are a few issues with the light lock since I re-clad the building and some fogging occurred across one print - a blow given how long the set up and processing took. No time to re-do it on that day.

The thing that takes the most time is the washing. Printing onto a thick fibre based paper means that the prints have to be washed for hours to remove all traces of the chemicals and ensure archival stability for the long haul. The colder the wash water the longer the time extends. In mid winter my hands ache from the work of constantly agitating and turning the prints to keep the water circulating. This all happens outside using water that is gravity fed from a bush dam a kilometre away - it would not be possible to wash with clean tank water, not only because you would quickly run out of supply but also because the water pump would burn out if it were made to work for consecutive hours.

Anyway - I had rationalised that I only had the resources to print one of the branches I 'sketched', but when it came to it I could not resist printing all three as they each had qualities I liked. It will be interesting to see where things go from here.

BRANCH

I have been having a wonderful time working  with Melbourne artists Ros Aitkins and Marian Crawford on a collaborative project for IMPACT 7, the international printmaking conference hosted by Monash University in September 2011. http://impact7.org.au/

Our methods―etching, photogram and wood engraving―have historically been employed to record the discovery of botanical flora. Australia's settlers used illustration and classification to order their knowledge of the plants and animals in the new land. 

Our mediums follow this artistic tradition, but  flag a modern predicament in which the disappearance rather than discovery of plant life  is marked and noted. 

We have focused on three particular Manna Gum trees, Eucalyptus viminalis, growing within a few miles of my studio. They are remnants of the old forest, which have somehow escaped the mass culling, and then the ringbarking by stock. Their lives are marginal and lonely and I feel awe and sadness when I pass or visit them. 

Tonight I visited the closest tree, to commune and choose a branch that I can print as a photogram. I selected three branches that had potential and brought them back to the studio to photograph. 

These photographs help me 'see' the way my images might be finally composed. Taking various pictures is the equivalent of making sketches of where things are located. This is  helps enormously to narrow the choice.  I only have the time and resources to print one.