Writing alongside painting
Writing has taken much more of my creative energy in recent months than painting- participating in Faber Academy’s fine Writing Poems course, held for the first time in Newcastle. So, when I would usually head to my studio (an early start) I’ve been heading to a writing chair instead. I’ll explain the route to poetry in my next post.
In some cases, the link between poems and the paintings is very explicit. For example, my last post included a painting about exploring Heptonstall’s churchyards. I’ve now written a complementary poem, with the same title:
Searching for her resting place
Approaching the first
and shattered shell,
an uneven pavement
of outsized tombstones,
discards of some
supernatural storm, now
covering what remains of
so many
Greenwoods
and Chatburns
among the tens of thousands
persisting here.
These broken bulwarks
catch rain drops as they fall
from empty archways,
etching grit in steady trickles.
Now step
out well beyond these
high enclosing walls
where
crazed crosses and,
Sycamore boughs
and tangled wire
mark the intake’s edge.
Look
where
between Southworths
and Speaks
her name’s embossed,
then clawed away,
some craving conscription
of those fierce flames.
Some resting place!
More passing-place
for lives incomplete.
And finally, if you are unfamiliar with this place- a couple of photographs as well…
Spring delayed
Two new paintings- both developed from my sketching trip to the South Pennines in March. The temperature was mild but rain was rarely far away and the wind on the tops made for arduous walking.
Spring certainly seemed close, but perhaps further away on the high exposed open moorland.
I’m still working from the photographs and sketches I took on that trip- and here are two from the margins of moorland villages.
After testing the ropes- over Hebden Vale (2023) Oil on panel
Searching for her resting place (2023) Oil on panel
Revisiting the familiar
Before the start of spring, while the trees were still bare, I took a trip to the South Pennine hills between Yorkshire and Lancashire. The wind and the rain restricted my activities a little. I came back footsore, with a very damp sketchbook and fewer photographs than I’d planned. But the visit helped recover my affection for and interest in this place, its moorland, valleys and streams I have known well. This landscape has been the subject of my artwork in recent years- up to the photo-etchings I made in 2019/20.
These photographs are now up on my studio wall, and I am now painting with the benefit of these and my sketches, the first of which I’ve included here.
Over Wadsworth Moor (2023) 41x30cm Oil on paper
Rippling outwards (2023) 41x30 cm Oil and acrylic on paper
Exhibiting- local and remote
It’s some years since I have shown my work in physical rather than virtual form. The invitation was to submit both print and other media, to exhibit with fellow artists in the Northern Print studios.
Two of my images were selected: a print and a painting. The exhibition: One and Another runs until June 24th. What follows is the selected images, together with the accompanying written submission…
What most connects these images, both small details within larger landscapes, is also what most divides them. The etching comes from a series titled South Pennine Paths, prepared for an exhibition that was planned for April 2020. The exhibition was a victim of timing, despite the work being ready to show, and became an online-only experience. The ideas and source images for these series of photo-etchings and monoprints came from extensive walks on the Yorkshire/ Lancashire county boundary.Seedheads (2019). Photo-etching 38x31 cm
The more recent painting is of a more local landscape, from an ongoing series of works about walks around a small section of my local country park. The photographs, sketches, notes and ideas I gather while on these regular local walks has now become the main subject of my work.Winter Colour (2022). Oil and mixed media on paper. 41x30 cm.
So what most connects and divides these landscape details is the pandemic- as the very local focus of the work has its origins in the same restrictions that disrupted my print exhibition.Repetition
Snow recently prompted me to take a different route through local woodland; what was familiar from my regular walks had become strange, with landmarks out of sequence or no longer evident. But even these relatively minor disruptions to a familiar pattern were disorienting.
Repetition does matter in artistic endeavours, most obviously in music. The Listening Service suggests repetition (and any disruption to it) is essential to music https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b078n8p2. Repetition matters too in landscape-based art too: some of the most familiar and literal repetitions are evident in the many representations of the Stour Valley in John Constable’s painting, as in Barges on the Stour at Flatford Lock (c. 1811) and Flatford Mill (1816-17). Similarly, Peter Lanyon’s walks in and flights over West Cornwall- are evident in the forms, colours and labelling, as in Porthleven (1951) and Haseltown (1961)- even if the figurative cues are less clear. More recently, John Virtue’s multiple paintings of isolated features observed and recorded on repeated walks have become the substrate for much larger pieces- such as Landscape No 75 (1987-89).
Repetition took on a new significance for many in the spring of 2020, with pandemic-related travel restrictions. No single body of work could hope to capture the pandemic and all its implications. However, for many, the most immediate and obvious consequence was severely curtailed opportunities for movement. In response, I soon narrowed down my regular journeys to the same few local routes, which I documented in photographs and sketchbooks.
From these walks, I built up a knowledge of these few local paths, the surrounding trees, the valleys they traverse and the stream that runs through them. Having this insight means that other changeable factors- the seasons, weather and time of day- become more obvious, and available to explore. Disruptions to these walks do not, of course, arise only from the external environment (nor are these necessarily the most important). Haste, distractions (from wandering dogs and other walkers) and preoccupations (on private or public matters from grief to food supply and the onset of war) all disrupted these repeated walks as much as changeable weather (even snow).
Understanding and observing both the repetition and the disruption means there is much more to explore from these short journeys than is immediately obvious- particularly if the disruptions are explicitly admitted. What then emerges depends on the repetition and what is revealed through it.
From the transient
Early morning walks make for unpredictable light in winter. Mostly, setting out before dawn means a gloomy start, or sometimes bright soft colourful skies.
One promising, brightly lit morning was abruptly curtailed as I walked downhill, as the gap between the horizon and the cloud bank narrowed and closed. But then for a few moments, the gloom took on a pinkish glow, as the pre-dawn light reflected from the clouds above, tinting the leaf litter and the bare trees that top the banks of the shallow cutting.
This brief transformation prompted some experiments in palette and form. These form the start of a new series There all the time- many of which can be seen in the Painting section of this site.
From series: There all the time. Oil on paper 41x30 cm
Light from darkness: Advent 2022
The start of a new series
Light from darkness- Advent i (2022) Oil on paper 41x30 cm
This time of year early morning walks start in darkness. The sky lights slowly from the east from behind the hill, the inky blue of night gradually replaced by pale watery greens, yellows and oranges
There's little foliage in the trees, silhouettes against the sky, with limited light allowing only cool, muted colours.
But as the days pass, and the year turns, these pale skies will inevitably soon brighten again.
Advent 2022
Simplify
My recent paintings all have a common origin in the local woodland and the paths through them. I have though varied the extent of formal structure, which in turn determines the degree of flexibility in the painting that follows.
Many recent paintings have had limited formal structure. As a result, many have dense, energetic surfaces, with multiple points of interest, giving a disturbed and unsettling effect.
This progression culminated in a group of paintings started without any specific structure, with the intention of responding to the emerging marks. These became increasingly hard to develop in any particular direction (see below).
From here, it was clear a course correction was needed. The opportunities to define and develop a subject were too limited. So I’ve pulled this back, starting with simple charcoal forms, and very limited colour palette and brushwork. This stripping back is a a clearer structure and simpler subject.
From series Colour of Bruising. Oil on paper 41x30 cm
Colour of bruising
My woodland walks remain a strong inspiration. The repetitions of these familiar subjects are regularly refreshed with the changing seasons and weather, as well as the day’s events and mood.
These images still draw inspiration from the forms revealed of these trees and undergrowth, the rocks and paths as well as by the play of light through the trees and varying canopy .
The studio work draws out these experiences- with the assistance of sketchbook and visual memory.
The precise forms, colour and tone evolve with repetition and experimentation, gravitating towards with this latest sequence of paintings. While these appear as damaged fleshy surfaces, they are not intended to be pictures of bruises any more than they are pictures of woodland (though the primary source for these is still the local landscape)
See more of my current painting and the progression to the current work here Painting- from woodland
Deeper into woodland
Painting in the studio continues on the woodland theme. I've added some of these to the published sequence, and have started editing out some from earlier in this sequence.
Restart- in paint
I’ve not posted anything recently as I’ve been brushing up my painting skills, a significant undertaking after a pause of more than ten years.
I’m still walking, sketching and taking photographs as I go, but am now working these ideas into landscape paintings. But after such a long break from painting, it has seemed like a complete re-start. And from a standing start I realise more of what I didn’t understand, so progress is slow.
However, I realise that it’s been six months, and so timely to share some of the most recent output- a sample below and a few more on the painting tab.
About water: From sketches
The stream is an obvious constant of the tight, narrow, twisting valley that informs my current work. Despite this, until recently, the water has only featured indirectly. This has changed with changing seasons, as the stream rises and falls with downpours and dry spells, so with my sketchbook. The pages are now filling with water-related line drawings and annotation. All describing the short, relatively unremarkable sections of that small watercourse.
These sketches and notes are what I take back to the studio, working initially through small scale works on cartridge paper (two examples in this blog post)- and then on larger sheets of watercolour paper.
Sketch for water drawing. Charcoal and chalk on paper 41 x 30 cm
Sketch for water drawing. Charcoal and chalk on paper 41 x 30 cm
The resulting drawings explore the flow of water, the obstructions, the water coursing through narrow straits, juggling pebbles as it flows- the leaves, branches, soil and pebbles pulled along with the current as well as the bubbling, rocking and roaring that that accompanies it.
Review and new work
Since my last posting, I’ve developed my drawing and painting; a sample of which below…
Untitled. 2021. Charcoal and chalk on watercolour paper. 76 x 56 cm
This is one of the largest pieces I’ve made in a while, and is on a single full sheet of watercolour paper. Preceding this, lots of drawing on a smaller scale, and associated paintings. This perhaps needs a bit of context, so here goes…
I make art about landscape, most recently about my immediate surroundings. I make expressive drawings and paintings that document local landscapes and my responses to them.
For many years I have explored favourite landscapes across the remoter parts of Britain through painting, drawing or photography. My regular local walks are now the starting point for my art work; taking notes, photographs and sketches. These are the source material for the drawings and paintings that I work up in my studio.
The paintings and drawings are often dark and near-monochrome. They are dominated by large organic forms, which emerge from dark grounds. These are memories of my local walks, developed by variations on the 'exquisite corpse’ game (in which I am the sole collaborator). Cut and sectioned charcoal drawings reassemble fragments of landscape forms (rocks, falling water, horizons, clouds) but in disrupted combinations. Expressive marks also meet and merge suggesting eyes, faces and figures. These non-topgraphical readings are more evident in more recent, larger drawings, where suggestions of some written observations and recollections also appear
These works document the experience of passing through this enclosed space, and offer an opportunity to reflect on living through constrained, unnerving and uncertain times.
How to photograph a fast running stream without a tripod
Many days of recent months have started or finished with a walk from the door. Carrying a camera has provided an incentive to get out, even on less than clement days. As the months have gone on, I’ve had to look beyond the most obvious subjects. One of the most distinctive aspects of the local landscape is the steep slopes running down towards the Tyne. Over winter, as streams have swollen over winter, there’s been plenty of fast-running water. So I’ve taken the opportunity to experiment with a subject I’ve found intimidating, as I’ve struggled to produce results I’m happy with. Most of what concerned me is though relatively easy to solve with a modern camera and a bit of experimentation.
Photographs of any moving object depend most on the camera’s shutter speed. Flowing water is no different from any other moving object; how long the shutter is open determines how far the water moves across the camera’s sensor. The longer the shutter is open, the further the travel across the sensor. A fast shutter speed, where the sensor is only exposed for a small fraction of a second, will in effect ‘freeze’ any drops of water, clouds of spray or bubbles. But with slower shutter speeds, it is the paths taken that become more prominent than the drops or bubbles themselves. The resulting silky surfaces are quite seductive, particularly for the small-scale dramas that play out in miniature waterfalls and cascades than otherwise most rarely consider worth capturing.
1/80 second f7.1
But with slower shutter speeds, it is the paths taken that become more prominent than the drops or bubbles themselves. The resulting silky surfaces are quite seductive, particularly for the small-scale dramas that play out in miniature waterfalls and cascades than otherwise most rarely consider worth capturing.
1/6 second f8.0
Keeping the shutter open long enough to capture the flow is therefore key to varying the appearance. There are a few ways of doing this- perhaps the easiest is to limit the light and force the camera to compensate. To do this, set the camera to Aperture Mode (the A of PASM) and close down the aperture (larger f-number) to cut the light reaching the sensor. The camera will then compensates by lengthening the time the shutter is open. It’s a matter of experimentation as to how long- but I’ve used anything from ⅙ of a second to a second, depending on the distance from the water and flow.
At this point, I should qualify this guide. I use a compact mirrorless micro four-thirds camera. These notes should apply to any mirrorless digital camera with a good degree of image stabilisation. Mine claims to make a difference of five stops compared to hand-holding an unstabilised sensor. So, if you have a camera that does not boast image stabilisation in the body (Olympus models) or lens (many Panasonic models), you may need to go the tripod route.
The feasibility of this method also depends on the focal length of the camera lens. There is no great mystery here; try pointing a short stick at a distant object and compare the amount of shake you observe when you swap to a stick three times as long. Longer lenses mean greater chance of camera-shake creeping in. I have had greatest success with a standard (12 to 40mm equivalent to 24 to 80 mm full frame) zoom lens.
Professionals use tripods for such work. Tripods are designed to keep your camera still and stable, making it much easier to get really good clear pictures, even with slow shutter speeds, where otherwise camera-shake would ruin any images. Using a tripod therefore maximises the flexibility over camera settings.
But tripods are bulky and heavy and have rarely passed the test of being important enough for me to carry more than a few hundred yards. This has limited when and how I take pictures, but has meant I’ve kept a camera at the ready more of the time. That has made a difference for many of my short walks from home in recent months; the absence of a tripod has meant I have taken more photos on these daily trips. But I’ve had to work out what is feasible in getting good images.
If you find your photographs of moving water unsatisfactory- and have a camera with image stabilisation- then I hope these notes encourage you to some productive and enjoyable experimentation.
12mm (24mm full frame equivalent) f13 4/5 sec
How do I improve my photography?
We all own cameras, and all carry a good one round with us every day. There’s no problem with taking too many photos, we can take as many as we want. And there are any amount of pictures available online about any subject.
There are still some choices left; in what to photograph, how to compose and record the image, and how to process what’s recorded. I’ve wrestled with all of these in recent months, and these are notes of the main sources I’ve used to improve, to the extent I’m happy to share what I produce.
These notes are in gratitude to those I’ve recently learned from. To be clear, while I’m grateful I’m not recommending any just because they are good photographers (though they all are), rather because they made me think about why I take photographs, or encouraged me to take and make more of them.
Great all round:
Chelsea and Tony Northrup- they have lots of free videos on YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCDkJEEIifDzR_2K2p9tnwYQ You can pick and choose from their channel. Their ebook Stunning Digital Photography (which includes more free linked videos than I’ve been able to watch) is far more structured. It is available from their website https://northrup.photo/product/stunning-digital-photography/ or Amazon is a great resource. The Northrups also guarantee to give you free updates to their ebooks (and I’ve availed myself of these for other titles)
Why take photographs:
Sean Tucker’s philosophical videos https://www.youtube.com/user/seantuckermerge are all worth watching, for Sean’s considered and generous manner. They also have great cinematic quality. His philosophical playlist is worth watching to improve any creative endeavour https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLtEck2fInszGXrz5T7KanHqB8E8i9E9NA
Landscape photography:
Nigel Danson has lots of great material on taking and editing photographs, with a strong emphasis on landscapes. Much is available free https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCkJld-AoXurbT2jDnfM8qiA. I’ve been tempted by his landscape masterclass https://www.nigeldanson.com/landscape-photography-masterclassold, particularly with the substantial periodic discounts. If I were starting again, I would make the financial and time commitment.
Developing a personal approach to landscape photography
Alister Benn’s Expressive Photography videos are useful, albeit many are available only to paying subscribers https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCILI7Qu2dfTE0iWHGvIPwqA. I have bought some of his ebook and video training series, which have been good value.
Pool.
OMD EM1 Mk ii. M Zuikio 1-40mm f2.8.
19mm. 1/2 sec. f11. ISO 320
More recently, I’ve found Mark Denney’s insights on editing technique very helpful https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCujr_HrX3ThMb34DV5YXHIg.
And, of course, take lots of photos!
Finally, a disclaimer- I put together these links based on what I’ve found useful. I have no financial links to anything I have recommended here. I have bought products from them, out of my own pocket. I have not received any financial inducements.
Restart- photographs in quarantine season
Studio printmaking is now on ice; it has been for some months and it’s hard to tell for how much longer. Opportunities for studio practice are limited by expectations to minimise travel and physical contact with others. This has changed work and family commitments. So, what's possible and relevant to my practice? Taking more photographs, and taking them locally seems both possible and relevant.
So, in recent months I've upgraded my camera and lenses (sticking with the mirrorless micro four-thirds format). Both are a great boon; I can now work quickly, hand held, and extended exposures are now possible even in even relatively low light.
Fortunately there is plenty close at hand by way of landscape-related subjects. Our local footpath network gives us access to a varied landscape of woodland, hills and streams punctuated by marks of industrial history. So, plenty of opportunities close to home.
As well as taking more photos, I've been improving my image processing and editing. While it is perfectly possible to leave all the decisions to the camera’s own algorithms and still produce great images. But to get consistent focus on the subject, it really helps to remove odd colour artefacts and other distractions. This is just as relevant and important as in any traditional darkroom. Sadly, it isn’t obvious that early experience of printing from my own black and white 35mm negatives with an enlarger, trays of developer in my makeshift darkroom shortcuts much of what I now need for processing digital images.
So, there’s a lot to learn and I’ve been learning differently, mostly through the generosity of those who’ve shared their knowledge, skills and insights online.
I am now sharing the output of all this- posting an image a day (see my Instagram profile), and am compiling these by adding new sections to the website. The first of these being Water- as there is plenty of this about- images of local streams and cascades.
Symbols and endings
This post is in two parts- it starts with the last of the South Pennine Paths collection - and finishes with some reflections and initial thoughts about future plans.
This plate is from a late afternoon walk across Withens Moor, where a series of flagstones ease the the path across an otherwise tricky stretch of peat bog. Many of these stones are recycled gateposts and such.
This stone is deeply cut for a purpose I cannot discern, but these graphic symbols appear almost as writing. But if writing, it is unclear about what and for whom, particularly as the only common visitors to this open moorland are curlew and skylark.
Withens Moor 24 July 2018 20:07. Photo-etching 2019
This is an interesting plate, with the central symbols sliced by deep shadows from the evening sun. The overall effect became overwhelming when re-worked, so I ground the plate to one side- which opened up more possibilities.
I then under-printed with freshly ground inks, warming up the final impressions.
Withens Moor 24 July 2018 20:07. Photo-etching and monoprint. 2020
Withens Moor 24 July 2018 20:07. Photo-etching and monoprint. 2020
So, to the end of this blog about putting a virtual exhibition together. Completing this collection has taken longer than anticipated. Selecting and editing the images for presentation, preparing the narrative and organising the web-pages all together were a great way to review the work, remember the the places and consider the methods of production. All of this was under pandemic constraints- with no opportunity for re-visiting, for improving or revising the prints. Not that I’ve wanted to, this review has made it clear that the work had reached a conclusion.
I’m happy to have reached this point and to have the opportunity to consider what next. I can now re-organise these South Pennine Paths prints into a definitive collection on this website. Further, I am still committed to landscape-based work, but the next phase is likely closer to home.
Any exhibition of this work beyond the virtual realm is sadly still some way off.
I hope the blog has provided some insight into the work, how it arose and was produced. I am yet to decide what place a blog might play in developing or documenting future work, so am happy to hear views.
With all good wishes
Mark
Memory
I was convinced that the photographs for both last week’s posting and for this were both taken in midsummer, when everything was dry. This is the case for many images in this collection; those taken in the summer of 2018.
These were both certainly taken within minutes of each other on the same stretch of road up to Warland reservoir. However, In preparing this post, I spotted inconsistencies in the timings assigned to them, so went back to check the source images. This confirmed that, rather than dry midsummer, this was late spring, in far from clement weather. Indeed, these photos were among many taken of damp places that day.
So, it seems my records have corrected my memory, and I have redrafted both this posting and the last.
In any case, this hollow was drying out more slowly than most that day:
Wet Warland Road. 28 April 2017 14:30. Photo-etching 2019
Two sets of masked under-printing with monoprint follow:
Wet Warland Road. 28 April 2017 14:30. Photo-etching and monoprint 2019
Which are strongly reminiscent of the beaches on the Northumberland coast.
Wet Warland Road. 28 April 2017 14:30. Photo-etching and monoprint 2019
Empty
The steep sides of the Pennine valleys are dissected by tracks winding slowly uphill. This image is from one such road that crosses the floor of the Calder valley then climbs towards Warland Reservoir. When I passed this section a couple of years ago, the track was broken in several places, leaving a series of hollows, lined with grit and hard-core, with some hinting at its more usual state.
Warland Road 28 April 2017 14:30 Photo-etching 2020
This plate required several sessions of printing to get right. It took a while to realise that plate itself needed attention. Grinding one side of the plate made for a section of narrower tonal range, which then made under-printing possible.
Warland Road 28 April 2017 14:31 Photo-etching and monoprint 2020
Warland Road28 April 2017 14:31 Photo-etching and monoprint 2019
An afterthought- this series might be seen as a plea for road repairs in a particular place. It is not, rather it draws attention to the way we interact with landscapes. These interactions are not stable. Perhaps to underscore this point, the last time I passed this spot, I can here record this section of track had undergone extensive repair.
Dry
This series is based on a photograph taken whilst walking beside the drain that feeds the Warland Reservoir. On this warm, dry evening, no water was passing through the drain, and the reservoir itself was almost empty.
These seed-heads had dropped onto the middle of the path and as there was hardly a breath of wind, they were spontaneously breaking up where they lay.
This evening walk was very different from my usual experience of Pennine upland paths. They are more usually partially submerged in peaty water, whose surface is broken by fresh winds or obscured through mist or rain.
So this evening seems worth recording.
Warland Drain 24 July 2018 20:20. Photo-etching 2020
The rest of this series is under-printed with monoprint, using hand-ground ink, warming up the final result.
Warland Drain 24 July 2018 20:20. Photo-etching and monoprint 2020
Warland Drain 24 July 2018 20:20. Photo-etching and monoprint 2020
This under-printing also tends to smooth out the image. So, some I have also over-painted with gouache to re-emphasise both the seed-heads and the grittiness of the path.
Warland Drain 24 July 2018 20:20. Photo-etching with monoprint and handpainted detail 2020
Warland Drain 24 July 2018 20:20. Photo-etching with monoprint and handpainted detail 2020