ARTISTS TALKING

# 13 [27 February 2008]

2007 update

After 6 years at Cleveland College of Art and Design (CCAD) studying part-time, 2006-07 was earmarked as time to redress the toll of neglect suffered by home and family. I had never intended becoming a professional artist but graduating with a first and selling a degree show painting to Hartlepool College of Further Education was such a high that my return to domesticity has been gradual and temporary. Emerging from the cocoon of the academic art world has been a sharp cultural surprise. My first encounter with that new world was mima’s ‘Make Your Own Damn Art World’ event last autumn where artists bravely manned market stalls in a gale to celebrate Middlesbrough’s magnificent new gallery. I was then asked to exhibit in a selling exhibition at Aske Hall, to which I wisely invited some CCAD graduates otherwise my work would have probably been unique in having no reference to waves, trees or furry creatures.

The shock of the commercial versus the academic art world registered reinforcing my conviction to pursue an MA, if only to buoy up self-confidence in my practice. I have been accepted on Newcastle University’s MFA next September – full-time – and with son at university and daughter driving, I’m hoping to cope. Next participation is a charity event, ‘Art for Youth UK North’ in April. Throughout, I have been conscious of the final show we part-timers planned in 2005 for May of last year. Then I was unconvinced, but now I recommend any graduating artist to do likewise and plan ahead. It focuses your attention, forcing you to make new work.

The first big shock post graduation is the realisation of how much work you need in order to submit to whatever: galleries, competitions, shows. I have been ‘ticking over’ but not doing enough, and with weakening conviction. I have a studio in a barn at my home near Scotch Corner that I will lose shortly for the summer due to building works, although the renovated buildings will make a fine new studio and possible exhibition space as well. Because of that, and a visit to artist Len Tabner, I am experimenting with work on paper, culminating recently in a couple of ‘refresher’ print-making courses with Peter Wray in York (if anyone out there has a table-top press to sell, please let me know). I now anticipate my return to academia with relish, but also trepidation. The summer will be devoted to ‘gearing up’ mentally and practically for the task ahead.

Tish Bloom graduated from Cleveland College of Art and Design in 2006.

# 12 [12 June 2006]

Press Release: Emerging Teesside Artists

Fine Art degree students at Cleveland College of Art and Design have been holding their final show this week at the college’s Burlam Road site.  The show, which marks the culmination of their honours degree programme, opened on the 7th of June and closes on Friday evening.  Sponsored by Dickinson Dees Law Firm, Simon Bailes Peugeot and mima, the show was described by CCAD Principal David Wilshaw as ‘one of the best ever’, an opinion echoed by mima (Middlesbrough Museum of Modern Art) curator Judith Winter who offered her congratulations to the students for the quality of their work.

The twenty students have transformed the rambling premises at Burlam Road into a spacious gallery.  Unusually, the work this year has a strong emphasis on drawing and painting, from Jo Brundall’s questioning images of local landmarks and Lisa Wilkinson’s sensitive introspection through to Tish Bloom’s sculptural canvases drenched in colour.  An exception is Nigel Clynick’s eerie installation, an elegant solution to pollution.  For a catalogue or more information on the artists, contact the Fine Art Department at Burlam Road on 01642 806626 or better still, come and see the show!

Venue: CCAD Burlam Rd., Middlesbrough, TS 5
Opening times: Tuesday 13th June 10am - 8pm
Wednesday 14th, Thursday 15th, Friday 16th 10am - 4p.m

# 11 [9 June 2006]

I thought I’d be a last lone voice in the wilderness but it seems we’re mostly still up and running.  My grizzles and grumps pale somewhat in comparison to poor Jay – you have my most sincere sympathy, what a terrible thing to happen but as you say, a phoenix will rise from the ashes.

Well our show/s came and went.  I mentioned a while ago that CCAD in its wisdom decreed that we had to invite family and friends on a different night to the ‘VIP’ reception, ostensibly because of the crush of bodies in our crumbling building.  What they failed to make clear to us was that they were circulating to the great and good of Teesside invitations to a general open evening of all three sites on the same night, at the same time.  Well it doesn’t take a lateral thinker to realise that VIPs cannot be in 3 places at once and guess where they were not?  Apart from one Professor on the hunt for prospective MA candidates, R and I didn’t spot any of the local academic hierarchy (he’s familiar with most through business).  The press fared a similar fate.  Despite having circulated our specific invitation to arts eds in general, it would appear that they sent their chaps to Hartlepool which features in a wonderful article in tonight’s evening paper as the ‘fine art show’.  To add injury to insult, VIP invitations, which the college sent out on our behalf, appeared to have morphed from our own 21° to their garish, generic ‘Exhibitionists’ invitation.  3 of the invitees who know us had to phone for directions; one of R’s colleagues who tipped up down the road was informed that Fine Art was ‘on all sites’ so who knows who else we lost?  Meanwhile, back at Burlam Rd., not a governor or any of the college management was in sight…even some of the tutors were missing…

Well, the Principal did turn up on family and friends night and I had to resist the urge to tell him he hadn’t been invited.  He’s a very nice man and he did apologise for missing what must have been the quietest of degree shows ever (which, ironically, he also described as one of the best degree shows ever).  I’m only thankful that one of our sponsors was unable to fund the event because of business commitments – it would have been too shaming to bear.  As R has said, he will think very carefully before agreeing to help another degree fundraiser in the light of our experience.  Sod’s law it happens to our year, eh?

Last night was f&f and very jolly – lots of booze because nobody had drunk it the night before!  Pitching up for sentry duty today was to discover some very hungover bodies scattered out in the sun or hiding inside in the shade on sofas purportedly there for the exhibition.  It runs until Wednesday and then – finito!  What a lot of effort for nowt.

So, it’s goodbye blog, it’s been good to know you.  Thanks to a-n for the opportunity to write it and thanks to fellow bloggers for sharing their experiences.  I can’t tell you my degree results because they don’t come out for another fortnight (and I don’t suppose I’ve done them much good tonight!).  Congratulations to Jay and the best of luck and good fortune to you all.  Perhaps meet up again if a-n does a recall in a year or so…?

P.S. Tomorrow I'll post some pictures of other work in the show - please don't go away quite yet!

# 10 [2 June 2006]

Goodbye, Mike, if you’re still logging on.  It’s been wonderful to be reminded of another degree run-up.  I’m not sure that this format isn’t actually more demanding than exams, especially as we took many of ours down at ‘Old College’ gazing out at the sea as it teased the rocks.  I certainly hadn’t prepared for those finals as I have for these.  There’s something significantly different about working towards a target you have chosen later in life, rather than a teleological progression of conventional education.  I’m constantly struck by the number of ‘mature’ students, full and part time, who turn to art degrees.  As I said last blog, it’s been very rewarding for me and the test now is what I’ll carry forward.

But back to the present.  I’m recovering with a glass of wine after my day out with Vernon.  He’s not an easy fellow; big vans of his generation were designed for beefy, macho-men who take their tops off when the sun shines and write profane graffiti on the sun-visors (we have some).  I’m a match for most men but I feel no desire to prove I can tame Vernon and usually choose to leave him to my husband.  But he wouldn’t take the responsibility of transporting my paintings this morning so he FOLLOWED me!  Yes, I did hit the curb twice – sorr-eey – but we did make it intact apart from one of the panels getting stuck to its bubble wrap (touch up Monday).

The electrician held me back by at least ½ a day, much to the ire of our caretaker.  He’s a great bloke as long as you’re not bothering him but today I outstayed my welcome.  Unbeknown or unexamined to/by me, we were meant to vacate the premises at 12.30 so he could paint the floors.  Well the electrician took forever to do the lights (he had spent the whole of yesterday putting up the most pathetic example of lighting and, as one has to in those circumstances, I had to be as politic in my critical appraisal as possible or eureka! – neon strips).  So, having lumbered in in Vernon, I was not going to leave without hanging the paintings.  We left at 4.15.  I couldn’t understand why my foot ached so much.  When we stopped to open the gate at home, I took off my shoe to find a staple imbedded ½ a centimetre in my toe…one must suffer for her art.

So this weekend is finalising all the publicity material, research book and the foldout for my little book.  I have all the main text and images sorted but I’m not sure it will get finished.  We’ll have to see.  Monday is final touches: book plinth, signs, etc.  All the full-timers have postcards.  Postcards?  Oh, no… something else to do!  And price lists!  What?  I only have 4 pieces and one is definitely not for sale…oh, pass the wine… takeaway tonight folks.  Last instalment next week.

# 9 [26 May 2006]

I’ve just taken time to catch up on what everybody else has had to say and it is genuinely reassuring to recognise similar patterns of emotions in all of us.  The last time I felt so exhausted was when I foolishly undertook a week’s blacksmithing course.  Then it was sheer physical fatigue; this week it has been sleep deprivation and hyperventilation that have qualified me to join the living dead.  Thankfully, today has marked the onset of normality: supermarket shop, a quick read of the Indy arts section, leisurely walk with the dogs, pondering what I’ll make next…relief!

I managed to get my Opus book finished.  I wish I’d had a little more time but I really don’t think it suffered much.  I still want to make a foldout insert for the back of the book about an allegorical poem, The Vision of Canon Ripley.  It’s all about a toad who eats too many grapes and explodes.  (The computer wants me to refer to the toad as ‘which’ but I won’t.)  That’s this weekend’s job.  The real trial of endurance was printing off my research dossier.  It was such a huge file because of all the images that I eventually had to programme each page individually, even though I was double-sided printing.  I only realised what the problem was after literally hours of feeding the printer, which continually told me my paper was incorrectly loaded.  At one point my lovely new printer nearly made it’s way through the study door to printer eternity.  As the day progressed and the usual landmarks of Sunday came and went without my participation I was face to face with the Churchillian black dog, I can tell you.  When eventually I did resolve it (relief and fizz all round), my darling M pointed out that the last full stop on the final page had shifted - *** it, that’s how it stays.

So, we were assessed on all but our Final Show yesterday.  It’s a strange feeling to be coming to the end of such a long commitment.  One of my fellow part-timers said today that he felt it was ‘a relief’.  I said ‘what a shame, I’ve really enjoyed it’, adopting those limp platitudes one does on such occasions but I HAVE.  I’ve loved it, not every minute but overall I know it’s one of the best things I’ve ever done.

Enough of the emotion.  Tuesday sees the beginning of show preparation.  I’m thrilled with my space.  I finally managed to track down my electrician who’d forgotten he was meeting me – he does a lot of hairdressing salons so I hope I’ve chosen the right chap!  His remit is to flood the space with light without shining directly on the paintings (because they have varying glossy areas and direct light will distort the colour and texture).  He went away muttering that he’d be in touch with ideas and I’m a little concerned, to be honest…  That’s probably the next problem but who knows; I still have the ceiling to contend with, not to mention hanging the monster, Quintessence, or even getting them all to Burlam Rd.  M is eventing again on Sunday so Monday is Vernon’s valet-day.  Vernon is the horsebox – we called him that because the friends we bought him from described him as ‘looking like something out of Heartbeat’.  They’re right.  Well, here’s to Vernon and next week!

# 8 [21 May 2006]

It's going to be a quickie today - I'm absolutely exhausted. I've wrestled all day with my computer - I'm meant to be an artist for goodness' sake! My research dossier has taken me 4 days, my kid-skin has only just arrived for my book and everything must be ready for assessment next Thurs. Shut down time. Speak again on Friday. 

# 7 [15 May 2006]

It’s been a strange old week, one of those that seems to stretch back forever when you try and recall it but has flashed by while you lived it. That’s probably because I’ve been hunched over the computer for a greater part of it, working and printing the images for my book. I’ve just finished them but it has been a taxing process; computers and I share a natural antagonism – it always seems to take so much longer than anticipated to sort things out, not helped by my fairly rudimentary skills in Photoshop. Anyway, they’re done and now all I need to do is bind the book once I’ve sourced some leather and taken delivery of some photographic details of my paintings. All nice and easy…

I’ve also taken on the duty of VIP/Press invitations for our degree show. We have 2 private views, one press etc., one friends and family. The reason that prompted me to add even more to my workload was my connection with our main fundraiser, the art auction held under the auspices of R’s firm last March. If I hadn’t done so much work for that, I’d be all done and dusted by now. It raised just short of £4000, 1/3 of which we donated to charity, so was pretty successful. I was a little disappointed with the turnout on the night and have made notes for future reference but, along with other funds raised, we should have enough for our needs. Anyway, I want to make sure that all those who supported us get VIP invitations, the donors, the purchasers and the hosts so tomorrow’s job is mailing lists.

The degree show starts on June 7th, so after mailing lists, completing the book, collating and compiling a research dossier and generally finishing everything off for assessment on the 25th, it’s down to the nitty gritty of getting our spaces sorted out. I have bagged the gable end of the mezzanine floor, probably the only space suitable for a set of large paintings so I’m very fortunate that no-one else needed it. I think my main problem will be concealing the crumbling ceiling plaster – I don’t think I dare touch it in case it falls off! I’ve booked the electrician both for me and my fellow part-timers who are exhibiting in our ‘hut’, now euphemistically named the ‘outdoor studio’. It’s a shame I’m not with them but the ceilings are just too low in there for my largest painting so I’m mixed in with the full-timers – strange after such a long time together.

It will seem even stranger when all this pressure is off. After 6 years, I’ll probably drown in the free time. We’ve had a couple of talks on MA courses available locally – one Fine Art and one Curatorial Practice. I don’t know what I was expecting but I must confess to being more than a little surprised at their content. Perhaps our course is one that is unusual in its emphasis on both contextual/work links and independence of development, which is why the two courses described so far appear to be less challenging than I expected. I’ll just have to do some more research, I suppose.

Oh, yes, if anyone actually IS reading this, you’ll be glad to know that football is off the menu from now on – unless of course the management search gets very exciting. I can’t say that many Boro fans mourn the loss of Mr. McClaren, with one publicised exception he and they did not make happy bedfellows. Good luck to England, they’ll need it.

# 6 [7 May 2006]

I’m writing this on Sunday evening.  R and M are off with the horse, eventing at Ivesley (apparently she’s doing very well) while I’m slowly demolishing a delicious bottle of Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc; I can recommend it highly.  It’s not the only thing I’ve been doing but it’s probably the more pleasurable.  I’ve finished off the images I need for my book, finalised my NLP (Negotiated Learning Plan), sorted out my Professional Practice folder and now I’m writing this.  An untypical Sunday, I can assure you but then most of my days are becoming un- or even a- typical.  Oh, and I’ve listened to the football.

At the beginning of these entries I mentioned the deluge at Burlam Rd.  Burlam Rd. is the CCAD site for Fine Art and, in the last few years, Photography.  It’s a Victorian warren, crumbling from neglect because the college would ideally like to remove to one central site (there are 2 others at Green Lane down the road and Hartlepool).  Rumour has it that not only was it once an institution for bad boys but that it’s also haunted.  But, as I said to one of our external examiners who asked how we coped with the idiosyncrasies of the site, you don’t notice it after a while: it becomes the norm and you get quite fond of it.  So when we were told not to come in because of flooding, M and I nearly hit the nail on the head when guessing the reason for the flood.  We got the blocked sink but not the faulty boiler – it flooded for 24 hours, down 3 floors, ruining the 3rd year studios and particularly the printroom on the ground floor.  Any printmakers out there will wince because our printing facilities are out of action until October at the earliest.  The best and only alternative is Northern Print at North Shields, a fabulous set up on the fish quay but a good hour plus journey away.  My mate S who’s a brilliant printmaker very kindly offered me the use of her own press but, again, any printmaker out there will know it’s not that simple.  So how do I make my book?

The answer is by trawling the depths of my creative ingenuity by using monotype and monoprint techniques from the dark past.   I think printmakers are the most dedicated form of artist.  To observe a print artist examining every mark, tone and registration is enough to scare the daylights out of most normal people.  That’s why printmaking will always be an ‘also ran’ in my portfolio; I just do not have the temperament.  My workshop this week has been littered with monoprints that haven’t worked, one of the reasons I was so fed up last week.  But eureka!  I’ve finished now and it’s the serendipity that wins through in the end – that’s the secret of printmaking, the mistakes can be better than the plan.  Well, I say I’ve finished but I only have images that I’m happy to use.  The next challenge is adapting them digitally – oh joy…

Anyway, I’m free from the trip to the Netherlands at least which will save me some time (J’s tutor kindly re-arranged his oral, lucky boy). The whole town is buzzing with Eindhoven excitement; I don’t think Middlesbrough has ever had such exposure or such empathy.  Fingers crossed…..

# 5 [1 May 2006]

There were three deer in our front field as we drove home from the Riverside last Thursday night, their eyes reflecting red and gold in the headlights.  This spring has seen an explosion of wildlife in our garden and fields, probably because our old Spaniel and her feline predator-companion both left us for the great hunting ground in the sky a few months ago.  Not that the land around our home has been short of wildlife, it’s just that now we’re awash.  The moorhen on the pond sunbathes on the grass in full view.  The heron doesn’t even twitch when the car horn is sounded and only begrudgingly flies 20 yards down the field if you chase him, silently adopting a stare out with his human hosts.  Hares are meant to be rare, well not here; they are finding our new fences a challenge but are hell-bent on overcoming them as their little pals the partridges waddle, penguin like, up and down the drive.  The wagtails are back along with all the birds I just cannot identify.  As for pheasants, well they know they’re safe from the guns and have decided to stake land claims.

My garden used to be my creative outlet.  To the untutored eye, it is still lovely to observe but to me it is neglected and stagnating, in desperate need of creative attention.  Farmers and gardeners are the closest observers of the natural cycle that so informs my work; the earth is coming to life again after its long sleep and it is simply wonderful. 

Speaking of coming to life again, I presume Lazarus did die eventually but, not being a biblical scholar, I don’t know if or where the Bible records the fact.  The Lazarus that is MFC, however, is alive and literally kicking its way to the UEFA Cup Final in Eindhoven.  Poor J has a German oral scheduled for the day after, so unless his tutor is sympathetic enough to re-arrange it, it looks like yours truly will be visiting the Low Lands to keep R company!  Well, it’s better than watching The Bill…(local knowledge necessary…).

Exams have started here.  Notwithstanding that it is Bank Holiday Monday, M has her last Art exam this afternoon.  She’s a day girl at a boarding school and in common with many such schools, the May Bank Holiday is too inconvenient to observe so soon after Easter.  From my point of view, suddenly there’s so little time to get so much sorted out.  We have our pre-show assessment on the 25th, which, in some people’s perception, is three weeks but to me it’s a maximum of 12 days if I’m lucky.  I’ve been told by experienced hands that feeling fed up is par for the course at this stage and, boy, am I fed up.  At least I’ve finished my paintings which is some comfort but I have only just started on Opus, the artist’s book to accompany them.  I suppose it is an indulgent ‘extra’ but having branched out in the book direction last year and found it so rewarding, I really wanted to include a book in my show work.  So I only have myself to blame for extra pressure.

Last ‘blog’ I described Quintessence, the pivot of the 3 degree show paintings.  It encapsulates the transition from base matter to perfection in terms of colour sequence.  The 2 accompanying pieces are based on 2 of the transitional phases; the first, Aurora Consurgens, from black through red to white; the second, Cauda Pavonis, the multiple colours or ‘peacock’s tail’ that emerge before true whiteness.  I won’t analyse here in any depth the range of ideas that inform these paintings but just provide a perfunctory explanation of sorts.  Aurora Consurgens takes its name from a mystical, spiritual text attributed to St. Thomas Aquinas, written on his deathbed.  In common with a number of great minds in history, he was profoundly interested in alchemy and in the text allegorises the attainment of perfect wisdom (Sophia) with the eponymous rising dawn; black to white, ignorance to wisdom.  Cauda Pavonis, to my mind is an allegory of the spectrum from which white light emerges.  Once again, Sir Isaac Newton was an alchemist.  As I also mentioned last week, their numerical composition is not coincidental either.  Paracelsus defined the Philosopher’s Stone as being comprised numerically out of 1 (the prima materia), 2 (the two-fold nature of mercury), 3 (the principles of all things, i.e. body/soul/spirit), 4 (the elements) and 5 (quintessence). Quintessence represents numbers 4, 5 and 1; Cauda Pavonis, 3; Aurora Consurgens 2. 

So there you go.  Just be grateful that I’m too fed up to go into the symbolism of May Day and how contemporary culture assimilates the festivals of the past in its own guise…..

# 4 [24 April 2006]

Another Monday and another morning devoted to sorting the detritus of the weekend.  I spend a considerable portion of my life on this planet just clearing up those things that others can’t be bothered with themselves.  That’s fine if you have nothing better to do but desperately frustrating otherwise.  Over the years I’ve developed a routine whereby I sacrifice Monday in varying degrees to the drudgery of household management, which leaves Tuesday relatively unsullied and available for work.  Not that this Monday was overwhelming as detritus goes, partly due to some very sharp warnings and partly that we spent Sunday on the road in forlorn support of our football team.  I could have started: another Monday, another football match (or 2).  If you’d told me 15 years ago that football would loom so large in my life, I would have cried laughing.  But like taking on detritus, a mother has to subscribe to the interests of her children or risk a commonality based solely on filial relationship.  At the moment, football and academic pressures various are all consuming.  The only upside of having lost so ignominiously yesterday is that we won’t have to make the gruelling journey to Cardiff and back next month, not to mention the money we’ll save.

I write this as I wait for the sun to take the chill off my workroom.  It seems to have its own arctic micro-climate which has made working very uncomfortable over the cold winter.  Today is bright with sunlight after the wind has blown off the morning mists but the wind still has its winter accent.  The kids are back to school, meaning that I have no dog-walkers.  Apart from detritus, I’ve spent part of the morning rounding up wayward terriers from various fields and retrieving some particularly noxious rotting viscera from my Newfoundland.  No wonder it takes me time to get down to work…..

I have all but finished the last of 3 paintings for my final show.  They are based on the alchemical sequence of nigredo – albedo – rubedo; that is the transition from putrefaction to the red elixir of the philosophers.  Along the way there are many allegories and interpretations but my interest lies in the Jungian interpretation of the alchemical process: that it signifies a union of the conscious and unconscious which affords knowledge of the force of life or the divine, if you prefer.  Not being religious, I prefer the former but it is difficult not to associate the symbolism of alchemy with that of major religions.  After researching my dissertation, I could have chosen countless directions in which to take my work all based on the theme of a sublimated, primal consciousness.  Most tempting, and one to which I shall certainly return, was the development of the alphabet as the prime form of communication and record.  Appropriate as it was to making books, it was less conducive to painting and, in any case, I had already put a great deal of thought into the universality of certain symbols, in particular the mandala or circle within a square.  Mandala is a Hindu word meaning ‘magic circle’; to Jung, it represented symbolically the ‘nuclear atom’ of the human psyche.  I was fascinated, especially after I had found an enormous zodiac on the wall of a 16thC Greek church, by how the symbol appears everywhere if you’re looking for it.  It forms part of a body of knowledge that has been superseded by rational science.  At present, when time allows, I am reading about Paracelsus, probably the most famous alchemist who ever lived but also regarded by many as the first scientist as well.  He marks the parting of the way of magic and intuition and the way of science and reason.

So, the first painting in my sequence of three is Quintessence, comprising 4 canvases, each a metre square, which all fit together as one whole.  I will explain the numerological significance next time but suffice to say at this juncture that the physical assembly of the finished painting is far more onerous than I’d anticipated.   All the paintings have proved problematic in different ways.  This one was structurally problematic from the start.  I used a conventional stretcher but, in order to make the painting more of an object in its own right, edged the stretcher with MDF to a depth of 10cm.  Of course, when the canvas was stretched over the support, the edges warped so I had to resort to bolting and bracketing in order to get a fair fit of all 4 together.  Here’s the finished article which is propped up on my dining room wall after spending 3 months in sole occupation of our spare bedroom.  If you think it resembles a dart-board, then ask yourself why the perfect ‘hit’ is the centre of a dartboard…..and why a bull’s eye?  Answers on a postcard, please.