Monthly Archives: October 2018

What’s Your Line?

Time wears on and my weeks continue to be a balance between drawing and stitching. At the core of each is line — everything else seems to branch out from there. Although it’s surely more time-consuming to try to make room for both disciplines most days, I wouldn’t give up the exchange between them for anything.

In my life drawings, I can’t seem to move away from using .03 and .05 pencils (H, HB, & B). I would prefer richer darks, but don’t want to lose the immediacy and detail in each stroke to smudging or quickly blunting pencil tips, as commonly happens with a softer, darker lead. Using finer points allows me to build layer upon layer of marks that eventually carve out a form that tells a story through patience and time, for me and for the model. I don’t know our sitters, but I have the illusion of feeling I know them better at the end of each session.

When I look at the art of others, as I may have mentioned before, color can draw me from across a room, but it’s line that brings my nose inches from the piece and keeps me there for careful study.
After visiting the Boston MFA this past weekend, I am still thinking about the expertise of two very diverse artists who exploit line to its fullest and best effects.

Dandelions, Jean-François Millet, 1867-68, 16 x 19.75 inches, Pastel on tan wove paper, Boston Museum of Fine Arts

The first was a surprise. I think of Jean-François Millet as a painter, not as a pastel artist. But in the current exhibit French Pastels – Treasures from the Vault (on view through January 6, 2019), a dozen of Millet’s pastel works (along with selections from Cassatt, Degas, Manet, Monet, Pissarro, Redon and Renoir) allow one to experience the breadth of his fluency with line, conveying each scene to the effect of intimately enveloping a viewer. The rhythmic strokes give the illusion that you are peering over his shoulder while he works.

Dandelions, detail, Jean-François Millet, Boston Museum of Fine Arts

In another part of the museum and in a completely different way, EH Shepard’s illustrations in the exhibit Winnie the Pooh: Exploring a Classic (also up through January 6th) are pure delight. I was weaned on A.A. Milne’s books, so it was enchanting to see Shepard’s working drawings, including the written notations between him and Milne as their collaboration developed. Shepard’s ability to convey so much — mood, emotion, & personality — with such brevity, is breathtaking. If you too are a fan of the Hundred Acre Wood, try to get to Boston to catch this special show.

Tree for Wol’s (Owl’s) House from Winnie-the-Pooh, 1926, E.H. Shepard, Pencil on paper

Piglet and Pooh, E.H.Shepard

“Do you think it’s a Woozle?”, E.H.Shepard

“Bumpity Bump going up the stairs”, E.H. Shepard

Hundred Acre Wood, E.H.Shepard

And finally…
Looking for a light-hearted, uplifting, and inspirational art movie to cap off your week? Check out the film Faces Places by Agnès Varda and JR, available through Netflix — or try searching to see where else it may be streaming online. In it, a line of a different sort grabbed me. In response to an onlooker who asked Varda what was the point of the artwork she and JR were creating she quipped, “The point is the power of imagination”.
Perfect!

Endpapers for the House at Pooh Corner, 1928, E.H.Shepard

Traveling With Your Sketchbook

I think Vermont is beautiful at all times of the year, but these past short weeks of peak fall foliage take the cake.

We had two days of upper 70’s weather last week — perfect for enjoying the colors of fall while clearing out the last of the tender veggies in order to get the garlic bed ready for planting.

Such beautiful scenery made the hour-long drive each way / each day this past weekend, to an eagerly anticipated workshop given by Susan Abbott at the Highland Center for the Arts, anything but tedious.

The Highland Center for the Arts in Greensboro is a beautiful venue/resource. It’s mission is to provide “a balanced, year-round schedule of locally and nationally sourced performances, exhibitions, and events suited to serving the residents and artists of Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom”. Lucky for us, you don’t have to live in the Kingdom to enjoy it.

Around a decade ago I discovered the expansiveness of the art blogosphere. Susan’s paintings/blog/sketchbooks were among several* that opened the world of drawing back up for me in a major way. I don’t attend many workshops, but when this one on Travel Sketchbooks surfaced, I was eager to sign up.

©2018 Elizabeth Fram, 5 x 30 inches, Ink and Watercolor on Paper. One of Susan’s tricks is to take a sheet of watercolor paper, cut it into 4 strips and then accordion fold the strip into equal sections. The result is a mini-sketchbook that is small enough to tuck into a pocket.

It was cold, windy, and rainy our first day, so rather than venturing outside, we took advantage of Ethan Hubbard’s striking black and white photographs of “Old-Time Vermonters” in the gallery of the art center as a way to practice capturing a human form quickly and concisely. Paired with Susan’s slides of Greensboro architecture, we had a taste of creating a sense of unity between a diverse images.

Sunday was a beautiful, sunny day – perfect for being outside. We were warmly welcomed at the Laggis Bros. Farm by human and canine owners alike. With 500 or so Jersey cows who didn’t seem to mind our attention, plus 1500 acres of beautiful farmland vistas stretching into the distance, we had the best of all worlds at our disposal for practice.

©2018 Elizabeth Fram, 5 x 10 inches, Ink and Watercolor on Paper This and the sketch above are both two-panel sections of another accordion sketchbook. Each square was drawn individually, which explains why the barn to the left of the milk truck is cut off abruptly. I tried to carry some element of each panel into the next to give a sense of continuity.

It was a productive couple of days and Susan was quite generous with her wisdom.
We were immersed in the discussion and practice of contour and gestural drawing, negative space, page design, color theory and the idea of weaving a narrative throughout. All that, sprinkled with art history and plenty of examples by famous and not-so-famous sketchers to study, among friendly workshop mates, made for a fun & rewarding weekend.

*Inspiring sketch artists I discovered all those years ago whose work you may enjoy too are:

Laura Frankstone of Lauralines – look at her galleries over the years
Danny Gregory
Katherine Tyrell of Making a Mark
France Van Stone of Wagonized
Amanda Kavanagh – I’ve linked here to the sketchbook page of her website

I’m as big a sucker for baby animals as anyone. Who could resist this day-old calf, snuggled in its home-made blanket sewn by the farmer?

Enjoying the Ride

Last July I started experimenting with a new approach to my dyed and stitched pieces.
Flipping the coin from the way I’d been working, I started embroidering the imagery with white silk thread first, and then dyed the cloth afterward using a new stitched-resist method that I had begun experimenting with at the Vermont Studio Center in April.

My hope was that the silk thread would absorb the color and pattern of the dye process, leaving the image to some degree camouflaged while still maintaining its visual strength. I wanted the viewer to be drawn in by the pattern and to discover the imagery upon closer inspection. Unfortunately, the results were decidedly unsatisfactory because the image became almost completely lost. It shows more clearly below because the angle of the photo catches the light to its advantage.
To jog your memory, check back to my post “Committing to a Process of Search” to read about my initial stab at this new process.

After working my way through the more recent lobster piece (my second attempt at this idea), I returned to the original this week with new thoughts on ways to salvage it from its ghost-like appearance.

While there are elements of the process I’d like to tweak, I am definitely making progress toward my initial objective. And more importantly, as I work back and forth between the stitches and the pattern they sit upon, I’m really enjoying the ride. For lack of a better way of describing it, there’s a satisfying rhythm to considering both image and surface, puzzling out a way to bounce between the two so that they can simultaneously work together and independently, with neither being overwhelmed by the other.

Meanwhile, serendipity happened in the form of Neil Gaiman’s 2012 University of the Arts commencement address “Make Good Art”.
The thing about a good graduation speech is that it’s just as inspiring to everyone else in the audience as it is to the graduates…maybe even more so because being older provides the benefit of life experience as a measuring stick. Gaiman’s advice resonates loudly and clearly in its encouragement to make mistakes and to keep trying.

If you too are attempting to gain some traction in your current work, give it a listen and see if it doesn’t give you a boost.

Cloth Lullaby

Whenever we travel, sooner or later we usually end up in a local bookshop. Just as with small storefronts that sell fabric, book stores are one of the few strongholds of regional retail that have held onto their individuality in an environment of homogeneous big-box stores and online shopping. As a result, browsing unfamiliar shelves has become another form of travel adventure for me.

Cloth Lullaby Cover

With that in mind, visiting Book Passage in San Francisco’s Ferry Building a year and a half ago didn’t disappoint. If you can get there, they have a really interesting selection of art-related books, which is an attraction that holds true for their children’s section as well. Children’s book illustrations always pull me in and, I’ll admit it, I do judge a book by its cover. And it’s such a bonus that, if the spirit moves, I can read one cover-to-cover on the spot.

“Louise was raised by a river. Her family lived in a big house on the water that wove like a wool thread through everything.”

My favorite discovery at Book Passage was Cloth Lullaby – The Woven Life of Louise Bourgeois, written by Amy Novesky and with lovely illustrations by Isabelle Arsenault. It is a gem meant for the younger set that holds plenty of spark for adults as well. It was a great day when I found I could borrow a copy via our inter-library loan.

“And when Louise was twelve years old, she learned the trade, too, drawing in the missing fragments of a tapestry. It was often the bottoms of these fabric pictures that got the most wear and were most in need of repair, and so Louise became adept at drawing feet. Drawing was like a thread in a spider’s web.”

I won’t bother with a full recap*. Rather, what I’d most like to share with you is the capacity this book has to inspire budding artists. There are so many ways that it might capture a young imagination…it surely inspired this not-so-young one! The pictures are magical while the text is brief but equally as illustrative. It is a lyrical biography that demonstrates the power of art, stressing the strength which textile-related metaphors held over Bourgeois’ art throughout her long life.

Maman ©1999 Louise Bourgeois, 30.5 x 29.25 x 33.5 feet, Stainless steel, bronze, and marble. National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa As you will read in Cloth Lullaby, Bourgeois often returned to the theme of spiders as a representation of her mother – a repairer of broken things. “The Spider is an ode to my mother. She was my best friend. Like a spider, my mother was a weaver. My family was in the business of tapestry restoration, and my mother was in charge of the workshop. Like spiders, my mother was very clever. Spiders are friendly presences that eat mosquitoes. We know that mosquitoes spread diseases and are therefore unwanted. So, spiders are helpful and protective, just like my mother.” – Louise Bourgeois

Novesky’s biographical notes at the end of the book answer many of the questions about Bourgeois that are bound to crop up for young and older readers alike. They also provide a stepping stone toward grasping the importance of exploration when making art, serving as an important acknowledgement of the fluid possibilities an art practice might take by demonstrating the variety of forms it could conceivably evolve into or through as a career develops.

That’s a lot of potential packed between the covers of these 40 beautiful pages!

More:
This 10 minute video: Louise Bourgeois | HOW TO SEE the artist with MoMA Chief Curator Emerita Deborah Wye is a wonderful overview of Bourgeois’ work. Wye talks specifically about Bourgeois’ textile works at about the halfway point of the video.

*Read Brain Pickings’ review of Cloth Lullaby for a more in-depth exploration of the book and its illustrations.

Lisette ©2018 Elizabeth Fram, 24 x 18 inches, Graphite on paper With only graphite, I couldn’t begin to do justice to the vibrant colors and jewelry our model wore this week. At least I have the memory.

Update
Happily, Salley Mavor’s show, which I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, will not go unseen. The New England Quilt Museum in Lowell, MA will be hosting the exhibition, entitled Liberty and Justice: The Satirical Art of Salley Mavor. It will be on display at the museum September 26 – December 30, 2018 and at the Cotuit Center for the Arts in Cotuit, MA March 2 – April 20, 2019. Good news all around!