a spring collection
sublime #37
Up here in the treehouse we can watch the weather roll in and move from one side of the house to the other. Technically it’s not a treehouse but we do live three storeys up so our level is very much shared with the owls and squirrels and close enough to have leaf shadows dancing on our walls.
The oaks, lime and beeches that form our nest (and sun one minute, snow/hail/downpour the next) are telling tales of springtime, the neighbours race each morning to be first on the Rotary-Clothes-Thingy and in the afternoons we catch them stealing a moment of sunshine (sometimes a short nap) on the benches in the car park. Winter has wintered and the days feel long already. In the last month we’ve walked almost every day to track the white flowering cherry trees up the road; each day convinced they’re at their peak and standing under them to listen to the bees. We pause, inhaling sweetness.
The slower pace of winter proved ‘productive’ for me… I naturally have fewer photographic commissions and lean into the semi-hibernation. I did focus on some pretty special custom large-scale prints for a few interior design clients, which are a total joy to be a part of so more of those projects please.
The freedom of my light sculptures gave me a new-found confidence in finding other ways to explore light and texture, especially in the deep dark days where there is not a lot of ‘dazzle’ delivered but instead gentle gloom and fog.
“If light is scarce then light is scarce; we will immerse ourselves in the darkness and there discover its own particular beauty.”
Jun’ichirō Tanizaki, In Praise of Shadows
I have gathered a small collection of spring offerings for a shop update on Thursday 9th April at 7pm.
paper:
When the sun did shine I made the most of it and created some snowdrop cyanotypes. There’s something in the droop and the contrast of these that I love - the texture of the paper and the telltale watermarks that reveal my inefficiency of washing out the chemicals. I like the layers in photography and this feels like an extension of that - stepping further and further away from the object/subject to make a reference rather than straight-up documentation.
I scanned the results, softened the bright blue (not my thing) and made some Giclée prints on deliciously-textured Hahnemühle papers. The sun studies stand strong as individuals but also work magnificently as a group.
object:
I love to get dressed. Exploring form, texture and colour relationships is such a therapeutic exercise for me and the practicalities of wearing for life/style are like a great unending puzzle; I love being playful with structure and finding the balance that fits the world I inhabit. My style icons exist in Dutch and Danish oil paintings rather than glossy magazines.
My world is made of deep dark browns, black on black and varying shades of mud and earth. The glimmer of a bead or line of silver becomes pooled water on the floor of a cave, the shine of a button a crack of light in a dark room and the gloss of satin or flash of lace makes the whole thing feel like a treat. In the lighter, warmer months the same principles apply, though I swap heavy fabrics for crisp poplin and the darks lift into off-whites, creams and chalky almost-greens. Beaded accessories make perfect sense for me.
The initial shock of cold glass and stone on skin, quickly lost.
Chosen for weight and elemental connection.
For refraction, reflection and revealing so-called impurities.
Smooth to run through fingers, the subtle difference in shape and tone, the ever-so-slight irregularities that organic matter holds.
Each piece is marked with a handmade bead as my signature, no two the same and all with the fine lines of my fingerprints. I’m always drawn to the ‘human’ references in ceramics (the bits we’re encouraged to erase - the evidence that hands made something). I choose to keep those marks. The darker pieces remind me of lacquerware in dark spaces, the whiter take me to hot places drinking tapioca pearls in milky drinks, flavoured with brown sugar.
a short interlude to observe the magic that is sunshine on the toaster…
more paper:
Material Things (Venice, Florence and Rome) a series of printed photo essays from our trip in February. Part of my campaign to show more of the images I make instead of keeping them all locked away on hard drives. Available as a trio or as individuals. All three are celebrations of quieter moments and everything else I champion here on the quiet sublime.
Shadowplay collages; entirely-unique artworks born from the language of shadows (now sold out). Each composition plays with light and shadow, with hints of life from streetscapes and sublime something-from-nothing scenes. These work as standalone pieces or talk to each other when displayed in pairs, threes or more.
A7 notecards celebrating the idiosyncrasies (and outright miracles) of light. I always struggle to find the right cards for people, so I made my own. They come as set and bring sunshine to any table/mantel/windowsill and can be framed (with a mount in a bold colour or popped in these or these) for extra presence.
Beautiful collages, India - several of them took my breath away.
The grid of 9 sun studies are so good.