Studio As Athanor

26.04.20

 

Initially this was going to be quite brief, intended to shed more light upon my working processes, and the beginning of sharing more in the way of 'work in progress' imagery. However, it has turned into a more in depth discussion of how I think about and experience the act of making. And besides, I figure I for the moment I have a somewhat captive audience... After this you will find details of the unstoppable success that is the 'Artist Support Pledge'. And to close, some links to recent sources of inspiration in the studio. 

Sharing images of 'work in progress' and detail on the making of my work is something I have not done a great deal of until now. The art studio can be an intensely private place, of sanctity and solitude, which I would say is true for me, to an extent. I am always happy to welcome interested visitors (although not right now, keep out!!), and for some artists it is about preserving the curiosity of the viewer, "how is that done?!" Sometimes it can be almost something of a disappointment to get that peek behind the curtain, where you realise what you thought was 100% unearthly genius turns out to be a formalised process involving 95% sheer hard work and determination, or worst case scenario, the creative act reduced to production line. 

 

My take on this is that the studio space is essentially an athanor, an (alchemical) oven for the intensification of a process of transmutation. We can consider this in terms of the change in the state of the art materials from disparate and seperate, essentially formless elements, which via the artist are integrated into the wholeness of the image. The key ingredient here is the intention with which the artist approaches the work and the materials, the visible form of the finished image accounting for only part of its presence. This intention requires added to it the right quantities of focus and concentration (devotion), creating an intensity, or in the oven analogy heat. As a result the inner and outer elements in the process become more malleable, and this allows for the changing materials to speak for themselves and inform the next stage of the development, which is then again mixed with what I experience as 'my' intention. So creating the work becomes a reciprocal process, a conversation.

 

The physical act of making the artwork is simultaneously mirrored as an inner 'work', whereby through the focussed intention put into transforming the materials and creating an image that did not exist previously in the outer world, corresponding changes also take place within oneself. Perhaps this might be experienced on an emotional level, or something more subtle. This could also be spoken of as the capacity of art for healing. Maintaining devotion to the work is important because if intention becomes diluted by too much thinking and reasoning, or being shown to the light of day too soon and coming into contact with external feedback, then not only will the artwork be affected, but the inner image will not reach the same potential for potency either. In a sense one could say that the process has been corrupted, and accordingly the resulting outer and inner forms are impure versions of what they could have become. 

This is not to say that the work I make is so particularly unique in this regard, because to varying extents this same process is occurring in the creation of many works of art, by diverse artisans. The question is the extent to which the creator is conscious of the process, back to that word again - intention. And this also leads to the greater question of from where does such intention arise? To consciously create art in this way, requires something varying from devotion or faith, to at least the suspension of disbelief. By allowing the possibility for oneself to be a material, or pushing that idea a little further, as the materials themselves are often referred to, the 'medium.' This is why art can function on several 'levels', dependent upon the extent to which the work communicates that hidden quality of intention that was there at its inception. For example, in relation to my own work, there would be absolutely nothing wrong with appreciating an image purely for its quality as a landscape. But in another sense the images I make are not really 'landscapes' at all, that is only part of the story.

 

What am I saying here, with talk of transmutation, reciprocal processes, conversation with the materials, artist as medium? That viewed through animistic eyes the materials (much like the artist, and indeed the 'landscape') are in essence alive, hence the artwork becomes a kind of entity, a being in its own right, and as such should be treated with some courtesy, courted as opposed to controlled. And so we might have the courage to ask the image what it wants, what would serve it? 

 

And so, this brings me back to the start. Why not share lots of images of work in progress? Many artists choose to do so, and I often enjoy looking at the work, and being inspired by it. It is also true that an important part of developing ones work comes from the observations of others. So this is not intended as a criticism of that. For me it is not so much about preserving some sort of mystique around the work, the reality is more mundane. The unfinished artwork comprises only the visible component of the 'work' or 'intention' that is in progress, there is also the inner aspect to nurture as well. Put as succinctly as I can, if you open the oven door too often the heat escapes.

I'm aware I have gone into very little detail here concerning technique and this particular piece itself. This will come soon, once the image is complete. Thank you for bearing with me as I figure out my own way to talk about what I'm making. I hope this functions as an initial introduction to how I work, and that I have at least revealed more than I have obscured. For the most part I will keep my 'work in progress' images to these newsletters, which still feel contained within the vessel to a certain extent. If you have any particular comments or questions please get in touch using the 'contact me' link at the end. 

 

Here (above) we see the image develop from its initial stage being marked out in pencil, and the ink work. The area towards the top is an iron gall ink, and at the bottom this is acrylic ink. Both are applied using the 'dip pen' which you can see on the right of the image.

Artist Support Pledge + Website shop

If you follow many artists on social media you will probably have noticed this big red sign cropping up with increasing frequency. This initiative has gone from strength to strength since being set up by Matthew Burrows in March. Click the red sign for full details. In essence the idea is simple; artists post an image of a work on instagram (or other social media) using the hashtag #artistsupport pledge. The piece must be priced at £200 or below. When an artist has achieved sales of £1000 they pledge to purchase work to the value of £200 from another artist. This seems to be tremendously beneficial for many artists across the world right now. You can see the images available by searching the tag #artistsupport pledge, or seeking out @artistsupportpledge. 

 

All of the work available in my website shop priced at £200 or below is included in this 'pledge.' Some have been significantly reduced in price in order to participate. You can keep up to date with any other work added by following me on Instagram @aphillipsarts.

 

Here are some tips for artists I know who are participating, and ideas about where my own £200 contribution would be heading..

@andrewmackenziestudio

@charlotte.rosebury.art

@callummclure

@rowanpaton

@kenrismacleod

Inspirations

The Oracle Bone

 

A new release from Richard Skelton, whose music is ever present in the studio. This is a sumptuous longform piece, carved with his usual precision for atmospheric excavations, summonings, and laments. This link is to Bandcamp, where you can decide what to pay for the release. Give what you can in order to support Corbel Stone Press, run with his partner Autumn Richardson.

Night Terrors

I first met Jon Buckland around 18 years ago, or thereabouts. I spotted his Nine Inch Nails t-shirt across a crowded college canteen, and the rest is history. It was love, or perhaps something more like 'eclectic nihilism', at first sight.

 

Cutting to the chase, Jon has been putting together some excellent playlists, and I've been delving into these whilst in the studio. There's plenty of common ground in our respective musical preferences, but Jon has a vast awareness of brave new sounds. So if during this 'lockdown' you're in need of some fresh musical meanderings, I suggest you try this. The same would go for film. Jon is a seasoned wordsmith and writes for well known UK music zines. Check out his extensive writing on music and film here. 

David Whyte

 

I mentioned David's work in my most recent communication, and have been attending his series of online 'The Courage of Poetry' seminars. He in such a rich vein of form, good any time, but essential for these times. This will link you to videos on his website. Of note this week was the emphasis on allowing a "radical letting alone of oneself."

Thanks for reading

Next week I will come bearing news about a new exhibition, the first to feature my work in Wales.

Take care.

 

Although my front door may be firmly sealed at the present time, do feel welcome to cross the threshold virtually. I am always pleased to hear from those who may have an interest in what I do, or simply to converse about the related themes. 

 
Contact Me
If you are not already subscribed to the mailing list...
Subscribe

Share on social

Share on FacebookShare on X (Twitter)

Website  
This email was created with Wix.‌ Discover More