FOR A GOOD FRIDAY

 

I don't remember where or when I found the bone/skeleton which inspired this assemblage nor do I know what creature once animated it. But its extraordinary ressemblance to a crucifixion immediately struck me. I inserted a thin strip of wood behind the 'crucified figure' but otherwise altered nothing. A small palette knife painting I did a long time ago provided a Middle Eastern kind of landscape and two small stones plus a suitably deep frame completed the scene.

Even though I was brought up Catholic I have never felt I fully belonged in that tradition - there are too many things I question and disagree with, and that goes for all religions. As I try and usually fail to explain whenever the subject of faith comes up, I do believe in God but I don't believe that God is a member of any human religion.

The concepts we are taught, whatever culture we come from, are merely the opinions, the points of view of human beings, shaped and solidified by repetition over thousands of years. But faith itself is something else. It has an independent existence which is not necessarily the result of any kind of indoctrination. Some people are believers because they've never questioned their tradition, some because they've been converted to or have freely chosen a particular tradition. But some simply 'have faith' - it is part of them, like their name or the colour of their eyes. It's not a crutch, not a consolation for all the suffering life doles out, and not an explanation. Inexplicably and illogically, it just is. That's my position. 

That a crucifixion should be the main symbol of a creed which, before becoming institutionalised as a religion, was based on love - love of God and of our fellow humans - seems to me very strange. Couldn't they have made a logo for love instead of suffering? Suffering is always unjust, unfair, tragic - whoever it afflicts and for whatever reason it happens. Jesus on the cross did not deserve to suffer. No one deserves to suffer. 

On this Good Friday I send love to all who suffer, whoever and wherever they may be, and may the God they believe in, or do not believe in, bring them a resurrection.

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NEW PROJECT IN PREPARATION

A while ago I mentioned that I was waiting for an exciting new project to be confirmed. Well, I can now reveal that it is definitely going to happen.

A new collaboration with The Old Stile Press on a limited edition book: Dick Jones' wonderfully spirited English translation of Blaise Cendrars' (Fréderic-Louis Sauser) chef d'oeuvre, the long poem Trans-Siberian Prosody and Little Jeanne from France, illustrated by me. Our project has received the blessing and agreement of the rights owner, Miriam Gilou Cendrars, daughter of Blaise Cendrars, a most interesting person in her own right. I'm currently immersed in her marvellous biography of Cendrars which brings to life this elusive and complex poet so vividly that you feel part of his circle of friends, family, lovers, critics and collaborators and the time and places in which they lived. 

Preparatory work has been simmering for the last few months but my task of creating the images and making the relief blocks to be hand-printed by Nicolas McDowall begins in earnest now. It's going to take a long time before the finished book appears but I know it will be stupendous. I'm not going to blog about the work in progress - I think that would spoil the final effect. 

For now here are a few more not-so-recent constructions/assemblages. By the way, in case you were wondering, some of those I've been posting are for sale. If interested, email me please.

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MISS PEPSI

Miss Pepsi might be her given name but she has never touched the stuff. She's made of tin and her smile is forever fixed. She's jolly but something in her eyes tells you not to mess with her. She might be saying come hither or bugger off or wadder you lookin at? She's seen better days but makes the most of her unorthodox appearance.

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CRIMES OF THE IMAGINATION

That's the title I gave to this construction, consisting of found objects arranged inside an old cigar box. There is a story to it but I prefer to leave it unexplained - spectators can invent their own story. The hole in the cover reveals the clockwork of the vintage pocket watch attached inside the box. The handwritten text reads:

The Prince (the Prince?) departs
broken-hearted.
The Princess has fallen (fallen?)
off her pedestal. 

Time runs out.
Now the truth
will never be known.
Real tears are shed.

 

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MUSEUM ASSEMBLAGE

I've had family staying with me for the past week - a legitimate excuse not to have kept to my 5-day rule - but here I am again, continuing with the theme of constructions.

I have a stock of small objects accumulated for this purpose, amongst which are plastic football players in various positions. This scene was particularly enjoyable to assemble: on the back wall of the box I pasted the only proof of an etching I'd done some time ago, brought in the stag, put him on a plinth to act like an ironic modern sculpture, added the bemused spectator in shorts and, presto! A mini-play inside a Museum of Modern Art. 

 
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ASSEMBLING

Keeping to my resolution of more frequent posting, I'll stay with the subject of constructions for a while. What appeals to me about the process of making them is that you can manipulate the parts and re-assemble them in innumerable ways without having to lose anything, unlike painting on canvas or any flat surface. 

If you decide something doesn't work when you're painting a picture, or have an idea that replaces a previous idea, you have to destroy what you started with, or partially destroy it, to introduce the new layer. That's fine and can create lots of interesting painterly effects, layer upon layer, but you can't have it all. Whereas in a construction, the elements you're using - found objects, bits of wood, paper, metal, whatever - stay there in front of you all the time, they don't vanish forever under a coat of paint if you change your mind. You can throw pieces out but that's different. It doesn't have the melancholy finality of painting over.

Here is a construction based on my attraction to ancient Egypt. I don't remember what the hinged glass-fronted box was originally used for but I saved it, knowing I'd do something with it one day. Because the lid can be opened, I included a very small book which can be taken out and handled - its pages are painted and textured, like fragments of ancient walls.

The top photo is with the lid open, the bottom one with it closed.

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NOT A VALENTINE

Well I haven't managed to keep to my three day plan but five and a half isn't too bad. I also missed the opportunity to post something sentimental or silly or sarcastic about Valentine's day but I don't feel guilty about that at all. 

Below is a photo of a construction that hangs on my wall and which I suspect I may already have posted some time ago. If so and if you remember it, sorry for repetition. It's called The Creators in Their Ruined Temple and I'm very fond of it. I love building things out of found or discarded materials and giving them new identities. This scene has all those elements and the title simply suggested itself. I see it as a sort of icon, humorous but also serious. Russian and Greek icons, very early ones, are among my favourite works of art but I've never seen a humorous icon, at least not intentionally. 

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GOOD HABITS, BAD HABITS

Every day I tell myself that I must post something because if I keep on avoiding the blogging habit I will lose it altogether. Funny about habits, isn't it? If you have a bad habit - say, smoking, snacking junk, biting your nails, etc - it's excruciatingly hard to lose it. But if it's a good habit, one you've acquired by sheer diligence, creativity, persistence and hard work, it can disappear without the slightest effort on your part, almost without your noticing it's gone. 

WHY IS THAT? Why can't it be as hard to give up doing something good (for you) as doing something bad (for you)? WHY WHY?

To try and keep the blogging habit alive, I am resolving to post something at least every..um..let's say three days? Yes okay that should be possible...every three days a new post...from now on? Yes. Go fishing through my files, drawers, portfolios, memories. Whatever will keep this space active and yes, attractive? The aim - as every blogger must admit - being to attract an audience, however small. Preferably a loyal and interactive audience, one who waits with bated breath for your every effusion. Can a blog post be an effusion? 

Whatever. This is today's effusion. 

Below is a painting I began around the middle of last year which still sits on the easel undecided as to whether it's finished or not. It belongs in my Apple Series and really shouldn't need an explanation. It is a fairly objective depiction of objects which are actually in my studio. The figures in the centre are a paper cut-out hanging on the wall; the speech bubbles say: "This is art" and "No, this is a cartoon".

 

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SNOW, THE ARTIST

Brilliant artist, Snow. Eliminates the non-essential and reveals the geometry we usually don't notice. Brings out the chiaroscuro in everything. Transforms the ordinary into the magnificent. Then it wipes it all out and turns the masterpiece into slush. Artists! We're such a temperamental lot.

Sorry I've been so uncommunicative. My plans to be a more frequent blogger have been overtaken by a marvellous new project to which I am committed but don't want to talk about until it has been confirmed. Meanwhile I will post snippets of this and that and hope my few readers will not give up on me. One resolution I intend to keep is to finish my autobiography this year...or as finished as it can ever be, since I'm still alive. So keep watching this space. 

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HAPPY NEW YEAR

 Does that fact ever strike you suddenly as you're walking down the street or looking out of the window or doing something normal like washing the dishes? Isn't it the most astonishing fact of all facts ever? So why aren't we in a permanent state of goggle-eyed jaw-dropped astonishment? Is it because we can't actually picture it or feel the reality of it? Imagine it for a few minutes.

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