From the National Gallery, London

Umbrian Diptych Master of the Borgo Crucifix (Master of the Franciscan Crucifixes) about 1255–60

The Virgin and Child Egg tempera on poplar 32.2 × 22.9 cm

The Man of Sorrows Egg tempera on poplar 32.3 × 23 cm

 

Giovanni da Milano The Virgin: Left Pinnacle Panel Pinnacle Panels about 1365 Egg tempera on wood 89.3 × 37.2 cm

 

Probably by Jacopo di Cione Noli me tangere about 1368–70 Egg tempera on wood 56 × 38.2 cm

 

Duccio The Transfiguration Group Maestà Predella Panels 1307/8–11 Egg tempera on wood 48.5 × 51.4 cm

 

Duccio The Virgin and Child with Saint Dominic and Saint Aurea, and Patriarchs and Prophets about 1312–15 (?) Egg tempera on wood 61.4 × 39.3 cm

 

While I’m far from religious, whenever I’m in London I try and get to the Sainsbury Wing of the National Gallery to look at the Icons and altar pieces. My foundation tutor was really keen on them and I’m sure his enthusiasm was an influence. I particularly appreciate the “objectness” of them, which these images don’t fully carry. Like most painting, it’s best seen in the flesh. And ideally more than once. Different days, different times, under different circumstances and if you’re lucky, different light. What resonates one day may not the next. It’s these revelations and small observations that are part of the pleasure of looking at and living with art.

And talking of moving at a different pace, if you’re following it today, enjoy the cricket and have a great Easter break.

Five doodles

I’ve pretty much always doodled. I can remember at the age of 16 being told off in my Maths class for doodling in pencil on the table (it could easily be wiped clean). Now at meetings if I’ve a pen and notebook in my hand, I’ll not only take notes but I’ll end up doodling too, sometimes quite prodigiously.

I’ve tried to enlarge my doodles before now, to turn them into paintings, but it’s never really worked. I’ve learnt they’re a thing in and of themselves. They don’t need to be anything else. If I do start thinking they’re going to become paintings or something else I become self-conscious of my actions. The doodles suffer, they feel forced – their strength lies in the their semi-conscious, automatic making.

These five were made over the last week or so. Sitting at my table, half watching something on my laptop or while taking a break between one thing and the next. The top one with the forms standing in space is kind of typical. I’ll often draw object type forms. The black ones, made using a lettering pen, are more unusual while for the middle one I may well have been thinking of a light fitting or working out how to construct a painting.

Donald Judd - Julian Dashper, 2014 Acrylic on bamboo 215 × 150 × 5mm

 

271 What’s appropriation art? It’s when you steal but make a point of stealing, because by changing the context you change the connotation.

285 Graffiti artists use the stuff of everyday life as their canvas – walls, dumpsters, buses. A stylized representation is placed on an everyday object. In visual art, as in other media, artists take unfiltered pieces of their surroundings and use them for their own means.

Quotes from Reality Hunger by David Shields.

From the newsletter archives…

One year ago

Colours.

 

Two years ago

Experimental Monochrome Thumb drawing, mobile phone Sunday 6 March, 2016 22:06

 

Three years ago

Two new works in progress in a rearranged studio. Sixteen inch square, low profile stretchers with gessoed, fine weave Italian linen – a lovely surface to work on.

 

Four years ago

Occasional Monochromes

 

Five years ago

Studies – working title, Not Me

Oil stick on A3 Kraftpaper

Five drawings I made this week

Some artworks are planned, drawn up and then executed, others are intuitive and their direction is unknown. These drawings are the latter and feel like a natural extension of the doodles I’ve been making.

Looking at them I’m reminded of:

• John Reynolds drawings (due to the materials),
• the work of George Baselitz,
• and the mid-career drawings and paintings of Philip Guston.

Also in my mind is a story my foundation tutor, Mick Maslen, once told us. When he was at art school, doodling and not really sure of what to do, his tutor told him to “Keep churning them out”. Week after week, “Keep churning them out”. And this is how I feel about these works – while I’m far from lost, I know I need to keep on making them, to let them develop and see where they’re going.