Yr wylan deg ar lanw dioer
Unlliw ag eiry neu wenlloer,
Dilwch yw dy degwch di,
Darn fel haul, dyrnfol, heli.

Dafydd ap Gwilym

Janine Flynn
Gull Rock
323 mm x 445 mm

O sea-bird, beautiful upon the tides,
White as the moon is when the night abides,
Or snow untouched, whose dustless splendour glows
Bright as a sunbeam and whose white wing throws
A glove of challenge on the salt sea-flood.

Read more Dafydd ap Gwilym

“Yr Wylan” (To the Sea-gull), line 1; translation from Robert Gurney (ed. and trans.) Bardic Heritage (London: Chatto & Windus, 1969) p. 130.

Gull Rock is one of the images featured in the interview in the first edition of
Full articles and interviews with further images are available in the high quality PDF edition

“I found there was such beauty in the co-ordinated human endeavour that the composition – human in appearance – became abstract in shape. I became completely absorbed by the extraordinary beauty of purpose between human beings all dedicated to saving life; and the way this special grace (grace of mind and body) induced a spontaneous space composition, an articulated and animated kind of abstract sculpture very close to what I had been seeking in my own work.”

[1]

HEPWORTH 1903-1975
Fenestration (The Microscope)
1948
Pencil and oil on gesso-prepared board
14 x 18 inches; 35.5 x 45.8 cm.

Barbara Hepworth
Mother and Child
1934
Wakefield Art Gallery
copyright Bowness, Hepworth Estate

I recently visited the Moore | Hepworth | Nicholson - A Nest of Gentle Artists in the 1930s exhibition where I saw this Hepworth Mother and Child and was struck by the tenderness of the composition. It brings to mind those heart stopping moments when babies are learning to stand - and spend more time falling down, that precarious moment of poised success before the wobbling legs collapse into a surprised heap of giggles.

Reducing the forms to this simple expression emphasizes that moment and the universality of the experience. Most of us have seen something like this and though it’s unlikely we remember it, we will have been that tiny form trying to stand. The process of de-personalizing the moment through simplification has paradoxically made it more accessibly, individually personal at the same time as emphasizing the universality of the experience. And, taking the analogy a step further, is a wonderful reminder about the persistence of effort.

The image doesn’t do the piece justice, it can’t because one aspect of it is that it’s actually two pieces with the baby being removeable - it ’sits’ on a peg, though it fits in only one position. There is another piece also titled ‘Mother and Child’ by Hepworth in this exhibition but the one shown here outshines it for me.

Exhibition tours to the Graves Art Gallery, Sheffield from 20 May – 29 August 09

“I must always have a clear image of the form of a work before I begin. Otherwise there is no impulse to create.”

Two Rocks
1971
Irish black marble
Height: 116.8 cm /46 ins

“One must be entirely sensitive to the structure of the material that one is handling. One must yield to it in tiny details of execution, perhaps the handling of the surface or grain, and one must master it as a whole.”

Group of Three Magic Stones
1973
Silver
Edition of 6
7.6 × 35 × 31 cm / 3 × 13 3/4 × 12 1/4 ins

“components fall into place and one is no longer aware of the detail except as the necessary significance of wholeness and unity.”
[2]

Disc with Strings (Moon)
BH484
1969
Aluminium with strings, edition 4 of 9 + 0
Height: 18 inches

A few Quotes





And a few more Quotes





More examples of works by Dame Barbara Hepworth at the New Art Centre

[1] An extract from her autobiography that relates to her watching a team of surgeons operating, quoted by Will Gompertz in his article My life in art: Barbara Hepworth and the art of alchemy, further information about her autobiograhy is not provided.

[2] source as [1]

Drawing is “going for a walk with a line.”






Paul Klee (1879-1940)
painter and graphic artist




Paul Klee (German, 1879–1940)
Introducing the Miracle
[Vorführung des Wunders]
1916/54

I would say that art is more like taking the eye for a gentle stroll.



I’d chosen Venice as a destination because I wanted to study the Tintoretto’s, gaze in admiration at the Titian’s and see the fabled light for myself. I returned with 160 frames on my camera, admittedly many of these are more memories than potential subjects but the master of Venice Rio stood out as a composition because I liked the overall effect, temporarily overlooking that perspective drawing is my least favourite element of any subject.



The aspects that were obviously appealing to me were the dramatic contrasts of the deep shadows and brightly lit boats. The shadows were challenging in themselves because they could easily degenerate into a dull and boring surface. It was important to the overall feel that they retained an interesting texture without appearing to be just walls that were a darker colour; they needed to seem ‘unlit’ but visible, to contrast and frame the bright highlights in the middle ground. It wasn’t until after I began that the subtle complexities of the underlying structure started to reveal themselves

Venice Rio

I like the way there are small highlights in the plants and details that are picked out in a way that encourages a visual route around the surface that echoes the more dominant route of the shadows. The challenge of these lights was that they needed to remain a supporting echo to the very dominant highlights of the boats and parts of the bridge.



The bridge in itself was intriguing because it appeared at first glance to be square across the Rio but is in reality at a very irritating angle as far as perspective is concerned. Another aspect that I hadn’t noticed initially was the tendency for the buildings to be slightly wonky (technical term). This created quite a dilemma for me whether to aim for accuracy where it could so easily look like my perspective drawing was flawed or straighten them up a bit and know that I hadn’t been accurate; I settled on my favourite solution of ‘near enough’ as being about right.



Another aspect that is significant to the whole composition is the right hand side of the bridge as there are a number of elements that keep directing attention towards this area of the picture.



One of the technical discoveries I’ve made from this visual exploration is how using a variety of marks can create a quite separate element of composition. For instance, the dark areas in the foreground are built up to suggest the various textures, then overlaid with more vigorous pencil work to create a subtle sense of energy as if the shadows were a physical form; this is then contrasted against the more controlled and precise areas of pencil work that create areas of calmness and these varieties of marks form a counterbalance to each other.



Venice Rio was finished around midnight the night before I submitted my portfolio to become an Associate member of the Society of Graphic Fine Artists, so I haven’t actually sat and had a good look at the finished drawing yet.

Dayboats

There are a number of elements that can be drawn on to create this journey, whether these be singled out or used in partnership. The strongest element of the journey in Dayboats is the balancing of the strong white on the left boat which acts as a pause against all the surrounding busy surfaces and textures. There are a number of routes around the picture that follow along the ‘architectural’ structures. If you look at it for a while, notice how your gaze travels around the different items but will invariably return to the white boat - then off it goes again when it’s had a brief rest, trying out a different route perhaps.



It would be inaccurate to think that I am always conscious of a full understanding of how or why a composition works right up until it’s completed. Usually, I see something that I find striking because of one aspect of the image (like the reflections in Dayboats) and discover the reasons for it working, for me, whilst I’m getting it on paper. I was aware of how the overall building and features contributed to the flow of Dayboats before beginning it but inconspicuous details like the shadows cast in the left hand side or the rope hanging down from the scaffolding - quite minor details, almost ignored visually - are integral to keeping that visual flow going. I was totally unaware of the significance of the white boat until it was finished.



So drawing is my way of finding out what it is about a view that interests or intrigues me; it’s pulling the elements apart to find out how it works, what makes it striking to me, discovering why it appeals.



Apart from Pine Trees that is; I’ve never come up with a satisfactory explanation for that one - yet.