Collections

On reading the book “A sense of place” on the Scottish artist Joan Eardley, what struck me was her description of her painting practice… “I find the more I know of the place, or of one particular spot, the more I find to paint in that particular spot. I do feel the more you know of something, the more you can get out of it, the more it gives to you.” And so, some summers, Joan set up and painted the same vista every day, in every weather, each time allowing her attention to be drawn and swayed by different aspects.

This made me think more about the yellow lichen covered rocks that I pass each day on my walks. It gave me the idea of tackling them in every way that I know how. I wanted to lay the rich yellow ochre paint on a canvas, and I also wanted to carve the shape in wood and print it. I wanted to stitch it onto a small cloth, making the shape with hundreds of short lines, coming together as one. So, I decided to do all these things, enjoying the place and the pull, feeling the edge of it, until it is enough.

Some of the ones that got away.

In a time of uncertainty, there have been places that I have crept to, again and again, to settle myself and calm my unravelling's. These are the spaces I present in a series of multilayer reduction woodblocks – layers of monotone, slowly built up to achieve the quiet and permanence of the place.

A series of semi abstract reduction woodcut and screen prints inspired by photographs taken of the artist/self, submerged under water, from above. The edges of the form are broken and with no clear start and end to the body, it becomes a part of the environment.

Discombobulated soups of self-portrait. An examination of the disparate parts of self that make the whole, and how these parts interact with each other and the environment. A reference to a space that makes the artist feel that she is safe and can breathe. Under water, the edges of the artist are blurred, her body and the liquid push pull hold.

And then a retreat into the mind, where the body floats under the tannin rich dark umber waters of the Cape, naked and without encumbrance. If the artist were to exhale, she would slip a little further below the surface, and quite soon be invisible, hidden by the dissolved minerals and botanicals coexisting with her in the slippery liquid. She is holding her breath. She is searching for self. For the essence that makes the person. 

A monotype print is one that is not duplicated.  There is only one of each.  I make monotype prints with both oil based and watercolour ink, building up the image on a sheet of plastic by either painting or wiping away the ink.  The plate is printed onto damp paper, in single or multiple layers.  Sometimes, sufficient ink remains after the first print, to allow for a faint ghost to be printed too. I have recently forayed into screen print monotype, and in this case, an image is painted onto a screen and the ink is pulled through the screen onto the paper below. 

This collection includes textiles and textile papers, naturally marked through botanical contact print and dye. These pieces are exhibited in galleries, either framed or suspended, allowing the viewer to determine the appropriate treatment.  Some of these pieces are collaboration pieces with other fibre or paper artists.