Oriel Q gallery in Narberth presents “Under New Made Clouds” – an exhibition by a group of three artists responding to the landscape around them in new and innovative ways.
Sian Jones captures the ever-changing light from her riverside studio,
Ruth Sergeant explores details like the algae and reflections in the water trough left by a farmer to water his stock.
Jess Woodrow’s colour-rich work is stimulated by the monumental and minute detail experienced on her travels and in the mountains near her Abergavenny home.
Each artist has her unique response in their visual work, from audio and digital installations to ceramics, drawings and paintings.
Created over Lockdown , the works give fresh insight into our experience within the landscape of Wales. This show allows the spectator to see it through the artist’s eyes.
Glenn Ibbitson has been in [e-mail] conversation with the exhibitors.
J.W. I do work in the studio, I don’t work directly from the landscape except for the odd water colour . Paintings (oil) are memories of place and experience usually from some time ago, when something triggers a particular feeling , so bringing at the past into the present. Drawings are more directly from the landscape around me, drawing on stories that seem to be already present there, maybe past events (often grim!) Narrative is important in everything, even if its not obvious what that narrative is. I don’t try and do anything thats new….I think if you are true to yourself, some aspect of the work will inevitably be new. Its important to me to be as personal as possible, at least with the painting on panels. I like to think of it all as a kind of emotional geography…..which I absorb through my skin as well as see with my eyes. I work most days in the studio. Movement however is vital, if i don’t travel, things become destructive! literally ending up in the bin. Movement is everything. Walking (or driving) in my immediate landscape helps to bring together other times and places, events. Walking ties it all together. A kind of time travelling…… deja vu maybe sometimes. I could probably write forever about painting…..I work on several at once, discard, return to, rework, until I have a series of 10 or so...
G.I. Jess, you have presented paintings in oils and works using ink on paper, which both convey a spirit of place, but in hugely divergent ways. Does the specific pictorial problem presented by the subject at hand suggest the medium to you to the exclusion of those others available to you?
J.W. That’s a kind of chicken and egg question! I think I use oil primarily because I love its qualities, and because I like the challenge it evokes in terms of the historical baggage that using oil paint brings. I want to turn it on it’s head somewhat, and make small works that have a strong presence but aren’t grandiose in any way. Using oil appeals to a complex thought process which is at one with what I am searching for I hope. Because it is a search. I use boards which I make gesso for, because canvas doesn’t offer me anything, the gessoed boards feel like I already have something to have a conversation with.
Similarly, with paper, it has something to offer because of its texture, so i respond to that. So I think the answer is I follow the materials, but I chose the materials which I find most sensually appealing and I guess there is some sense of the romantic landscape which oil painting gives me and some sense of movement and energy that brush and ink gives me.
G.I. The materials here certainly produce very different results. They both suggest that the motif you use as a starting point for a work is merely a springboard. You mentioned the romantic in art, so are investigations into feeling and response foremost in your search?
J.W. Yes, I would say that investigations into feelings and response are definitely foremost in my search. The motifs are something that I search for to help express that, so I don’t start with them, I tend to finish with them. I apply paint, often in many layers, sometimes removing it as well, until I find a resonance between a shape/motif that perhaps appears as if by accident, and a feeling that is already there. As soon as a motif takes on a life of its own, I leave it. Oil paint lends itself very well to this way of working. I have found a way of using ink, and various other water based paint on paper, by turning it over and incorporating the stains that come through into another image which slows down a process that would otherwise be a much faster way of working. This way accidents can still be a part of the process. Similarly I allow motifs to appear very slowly, so they are searched for. The paintings, I think, do relate somewhat to a tradition of landscape oil painting. I love looking at oil sketches, i.e. Constable or Corot, or Thomas Jones, but instead of making fast oil sketches, I make slow ones, which involve numerous places and a lot of time. Maybe the works on paper are more primitive in a way, and relate to a much older way of mark making and recording surrounding or events. I like to look at drawings by Dubuffet, or Eileen Ager…..Artists who work from their sub-conscious.
S.J.Being a painter during the Covid pandemic hasn't been that different to ‘normal’ times because as an artist and gardener I am very used to isolation.
What has been difficult is not seeing friends, and in particular other artist friends.
I belong to a group of artists called Six in Conversation (sic) and we meet once a month to discuss art, life and food! We support each other in our practices and organise group exhibitions and laugh a lot - which has made being an artist a lot less lonely.
Having an exhibition to work towards gave a focus to days which could have lacked motivation. Like a lot of people, my world shrank to my garden and the daily walks around the village. I really began to take notice of shadows and reflections and got excited about puddles in the road! Once you start noticing these things it becomes impossible to ignore them. The shifting shapes and wind blown reflections are mesmerising. Alliums, euphorbias and grasses in the garden provided the colours and structure. And so the inspiration for my work in “Under new made clouds” came into being.
G.I. Sian, your paintings achieve a sense of deep illusionistic depth of field between fore and backgrounds; yet still acknowledge the flatness of the picture surface. Addressing this fundamental dichotomy is a cornerstone of Modernism. How do you see your work relating to contemporary art practice?
S.J. With regard to how I see my work relating to contemporary art practice, it's a good question but not one that I give much attention to. The reason being is that I see contemporary art as being eclectic in its lack of uniformity, principles and ideologies, allowing artists a fair amount of freedom to express themselves. It is often about ideas rather than purely aesthetic considerations and within that framework I am able to communicate my interest and concern about reconnecting with nature. With this in mind, my aim is to rethink the familiar and convey my views, but also invite the viewer to make their own individual interpretation.
G.I. So you are hoping the viewer will see something new in what they may have assumed was the familiar everyday?
S.J. The short answer to your question is “yes”, however it’s not that simple! It’s great if the viewer sees something new in my work but my paintings are not intended to be didactic - they are just my own exploration of the subject. I might begin with very little idea about where a body of work will take me but in the case of the current exhibition “Under New Made Clouds” (a quote from Dylan Thomas’ Fernhill) the title immediately got me thinking about the garden and landscape around me. I find reading poetry is a good way of seeing things differently because the relationship between words and the visuals can be quite distinct. For example you see a group of alliums and you ‘ know’ them as alliums but in poetic terms they could be described as musical notes. Observation, imagination and pictorial language combine to create something new. If I have my own way of looking at the world, then others are bound to see things differently too and therefore I am happy to accept individual viewers making their own interpretation of my work, whether it fits with my original intention or not!
R.S. I saw the opportunity to continue a body of work compiled for an online course in Art and Archaeology and completed during the first lockdown. Both had given me the stimulus and time to root myself in the landscape with the hope of capturing the constants of movement and change. From the tail end of hurricanes to approaching hose pipe bans, I found a rich seam of activity and some noble collaborators to tap into.
G.I. Ruth, In our conversation in the gallery, you referred several times to the physical extraction of material for your art from the earth's surface. Completing an MA module in Art and Archaeology has obviously influenced your thoughts and practice. Could you elaborate?
R.S. The references I made to taking from the earth came from a long-standing love hate relationship I have with clay, my need to work in multiples and the complex environmental questions this throws up. I thought that the art and archaeology module which led to a final submission using raw porcelain with inclusions of wool, mould, tree litter and moss had solidified my position. Raw clay can of course be recycled. But one year on it seems not.
G.I. and your work here has an element of collaboration -with noble trees whose branches contribute some mark-making. How did you set that up?
R.S. Collaboration yes. Never work with children or animals, I believe actors say and I think the trees upstage my mark making on every occasion. This idea evolved during the storms of early 2020 - Kiera and Dennis - when attempting to capture the movement of the laburnum opposite my studio. I am impressed by the work of Mark Nystrom who makes wonderful work with the wind. http://marknystrom.com/winds-process-2005-01 I thought that in place of his machine constructions, the branches could deliver, and possibly in a more random and exciting way. My first drawings with trees were made with saturated ink on drafting film attached to gesso board and simply offered up to the lashing wet tips of the tree. (image 1 attached)The drawings in Under New made Clouds come from marker pen attached by cord to the branches and allowed to roam freely over drafting film supported on the ground.(image 2) An apple pencil on an ipad works well. In a short time, I realised the almost limitless possibilities with different trees, medium and weather conditions. It did seem each tree had its own signature.
Under New Made Clouds
September 2nd - October 9th
10am to 4pm , Wednesday to Saturday