Magic Moments...

…you turn to load the brush once more with pigment, turning slightly away from the painting momentarily, turn back to it once more to make one more mark and then you suddenly realise…oh… it’s done. Completed. In that moment you turned away it seems to have completed itself without your knowing. You can’t see what needs doing anymore. And it’s not because you don’t know what to do, it’s because it just doesn’t need anything more.

I’ve been painting all afternoon and had one of those rare moments today. I’d been really struggling with it, but then it sort of revealed itself. It all sounds a bit mystic doesn’t it, and it sort of is, but I just hope it doesn’t sound pretentious. Those who paint, or those who create anything, will know what I mean…Whether it’s actually any good or not, well, that’s a different question…

I had a good day yesterday too. I was in London with the students at JCC visiting the National Portrait Gallery and the V & A Museum. I particularly enjoyed the Tudor portraits at the NPG. I really like the awkward, stiff poses, and a flatter, more graphic look to many of the sitters. Many of the artists are anonymous, which adds to the almost naïve, folk art quality of many of the portraits (I’m not sure why the artists are anonymous, as they are paintings of such famous historical figures, but have a suspicion that I should do)

Catherine of Aragon,

Unknown Artist

Anita,

oil on canvas, 90 x 60cms, 2005

These paintings, and other early Medieval portraits, have always been a big influence on my own portraits, over more modern inspirations.

'...lost and moody...'

Winter Painting, oil on canvas, 90 x 110cms, 2010

Here’s one of the new paintings that I’ve completed this month. It’s based on a view of a tower block in the fog in Highgate, Birmingham from different studies. I feel it represents a small pictorial breakthrough in my approach to landscape and the themes I’m hoping to develop further. An artist friend said it had a ‘lost and moody’ quality to it, which is weird, as it sums up pretty much how I’ve felt all month regarding my work…

American Servicemen and Women Who Have Died in Iraq and Afghanistan (But Not Including the Wounded, Nor the Iraqis Nor the Afghans),

I love these portrait drawings, and the sentiment behind them, by American artist Emily Prince currently on show at the Saatchi Gallery in London.

In an article in The Guardian it describes how ‘at the last count, the artist Emily Prince had drawn 5,218 small pencil portraits of soldiers: all of them very different individuals, and all of them dead.

Today her project, American Servicemen and Women Who Have Died in Iraq and Afghanistan (But Not Including the Wounded, Nor the Iraqis Nor the Afghans), went on display for the first time in the UK at the Saatchi gallery in London. For two days Prince and some 10 helpers methodically pinned up the simple but powerful drawings, some with additional personal facts and tributes, and all of them on cards that correspond to their skin colour.

Prince said the idea came in November 2004 shortly after George Bush's re-election. "I felt really frustrated by the direction America was heading ... I needed to channel that energy into something."

She said it was all too easy not to think about the conflicts and the resultant deaths on both sides if there was no personal involvement. "That gap disturbed me. I wanted to engage more deeply with the information," she said.

"I'm not always emotional when I'm drawing the portraits but the most moving part is reading the articles. Before I began I had a stereotype of who a soldier would be and that's been taken apart."

The work has a resonance with British artist Steve McQueen's Queen and Country project, in which he created postage stamp sheets of 155 British soldiers killed in Iraq. He continues to campaign for the stamps to be issued.

Prince's work will be shown until 7 May, and the project continues until the conflicts stop. "I can't see any sign of it," she said. "It seems perpetual."

What a powerful statement. I’ve got to go and see these. Here’s also a link to Steve McQueen’s brilliant ‘Queen and Country’ project’s website

www.artfund.org/queenandcountry

Rituals...

I’ve been painting most of the day. I don’t really regard myself as superstitious (I’ll happily walk under ladders and open umbrellas indoors), yet I do find myself following the same sort of rituals each time I attempt a painting. I place my tubes of oil paint out in a certain order; clean my brushes carefully and lay them on the bench in order of size; cut up five pieces (always five) of material to use as rags; squeeze out my oils onto the palette in a particular way from warm to cool colours. I then carefully fill up my jars of oil and turps, after usually an hour mixing all the colours I’m going to use before I start. I then line up the music which I like to work to (this has also in the last few months become ritualistically Bon Iver’s ‘For Emma, Forever Ago’ as the first album I’ll play. I just love it. It seems to fit the mood perfectly). It does indeed all feel like some sort of ritual or small ceremony.

It all seems a bit sad seeing it written down, but I think it’s a lot to do with the way I paint. I don’t work on paintings generally for more than a day. I like to try to nail it in one sitting. I therefore like to keep a whole day clear to attempt a piece. It often feels like I’m about to step into the ring for nine rounds with Mike Tyson as I walk to the studio on a painting day. I feel these rituals are just a way to help me ‘psych up’, clear my head, stick to tried and tested routines of preparation so when I am ready to start putting those first strokes of paint on the canvas, which is so thrilling and nerve-wracking, nothing gets in the way.

Thinking about it, when it comes to painting, maybe I am a bit superstitious…

January 2010

Snow has fallen and hangs heavy on the trees. If I brush against the branches of the fir I’ll be buried. It’s deep as I walk, making my feet freeze. I look up at the icicles hanging from the porch as I rattle the key in the padlock and enter the cold studio. It’s January 2010. Welcome to the blog, with your host, Shaun Morris.

I’ve been listening to too much ‘Theme Time Radio Hour’…

I’m off work. I was sent home because of the bad weather. It’s nice to have some extra time in the studio. I’m ruminating. New Year’s resolutions. The same every year: do more work; get it seen by more people. Get a decent gallery behind me.

Since August 2009, I have actually had a decent gallery behind me; Tregoning Fine Art in Derby. It’s not come to much yet, with no sales. They are still interested in representing my work though, particularly the recent ‘nature’ paintings. ‘It’s about building a reputation, earning trust through sales’, says Phil Tregoning, the gallery owner. I’ve still a way to go here. I’m trying to find some wider representation for more of the work and Phil has given me a few useful pointers to some other possibilities.

That being said, commercial representation is just one avenue for the work. It’s pretty limited on many levels. I’m keen to get involved in more project work in the community or commissions and seek funding for some of these ideas.

A new year. As I sit here in the studio, a bigger question seems to loom. What work do I actually want to make?

There seems so many possibilities at the moment…so why do I feel so stifled by them?

A man's list...

Yup, like a lot of men of a certain age I like to make lists, so this is my end of year review as 2009 draws to a close. All my favourite magazines are filled with their favourite records, films, books and TV at this time of year which gets the cogs in my own feeble brain whirring as to what have been my own cultural highlights.

Francisco Zurbaran, 'Saint Serapion', 1628

My favourite exhibition this year has been Wilhelm Sasnal at K21 in Dusseldorf. I think my fine art interests increasingly becoming narrower and narrower each year to just painting, and other more traditional forms such as sculpture and photography, and this exhibition pushed all the right buttons for me. Sasnal’s engagement with the medium opened up possibilities in my imagination but also confirmed some of my own convictions in the decisions I’ve made in my own painting practise in terms of keeping it mobile and varied. I also really enjoyed Van Dyke in Britain at Tate Britain, and Per Kirkeby at Tate Modern, as two other examples of the vigorous possibilities in painting from very different places but very rooted in its traditions. I always found ‘The Sacred and the Real’ at the National Gallery, the exhibition of Spanish Realism in the Polychrome sculptures and paintings of Zurbaran and Velasquez, two favourites, very moving. Seeing Zurbaran’s ‘Saint Serapion’ (above) in the flesh has been a particular highlight this year. The best things locally had to be Neal Rock’s sculptures and Gordon Cheung’s paintings at New Art Gallery Walsall. These two exhibitions, that ran alongside each other, were really exciting, particularly in their ambition and engagement with their materials in service to the ideas. I’ve also enjoyed discovering the paintings of Janet Fish and Rackstraw Downes this year.

And the worst? Well, it has to be The Event, the Birmingham Contemporary Art Forum in November. Trudging from one venue to another in Digbeth’s Eastside on a cold Sunday afternoon to view ever increasingly esoteric installations was a bit soul destroying. I did enjoy visiting the old factories where some of the events were housed though. it was just a shame to spoil them with such boring installations. When it came to being asked to fill in a questionnaire on my experience I just didn’t know where to start or what to say….I just quietly slipped it back on the table and hurried away…

Wilhelm Sasnal

In music, it’s been a great year for my two favourite artists, Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen. The Boss’s ‘Working On A Dream’ was an album full of surprises and memorable songs, both uplifting and stirring, poignant and poetic. I really loved it, and his Glastonbury performance with the E Street Band was so exciting. Dylan’s Together Through Life was a great record too, with a warmer, more spontaneous feel than ‘Modern Times’, and Christmas In The Heart, the controversial Christmas album is inspired to these ears. It’s like a Theme Time Radio Hour Christmas Special only with all the songs performed by his Bobness. It’s divided opinion but I think the arrangements are terrific. It’s been on my stereo non-stop in the last few weeks anyway.

I’ve also recently enjoyed updating my Kraftwerk albums with the digitally remastered Autobahn and Radio Activity. I think the latter must be one of the most affecting albums I’ve ever heard. It’s both disturbing in parts with its experimental sounds and also very sad. Also sad and wonderfully melanchoIy was Richard Hawley’s ‘Trueloves Gutter’. I was also lucky enough to see him live at the Town Hall earlier in the year-he was fantastic, one of the best live acts around.

Kraftwerk

I’ve also enjoyed a good slice of so-called Americana (which seems to cover most things American with guitars) with The Gaslight Anthem’s ‘The 59 Sound’, Ryan Adams’ ’29’ and ‘Jacksonville City Nights’, The Low Anthem’s ‘Oh My God, Charlie Darwin’, Grizzly Bear’s ‘Vectamist’ and The Felice Brother’s ‘Yonder Is The Clock’. The latter were 2009 releases, and are all terrific listens, but my album of the year has to go to The Low Anthem (below) with its range of songs that were one minute reminiscent of Simon and Garfunkel, the next Tom Waits in raucous jug blues band mood. ‘Champion Angel’ must be song of the year. They were a spectacular live act at The Glee Club in Birmingham too, as were The Felice Brothers.

I’ve not seen much in the way of new films this year, but really enjoyed ‘The Wrestler’ and the lo-fi sci-fi ‘Moon’. The film which made the most lasting impression had to be Swedish Vampire film, Let The Right One In. As mentioned in a previous blog my favourite TV was all five seasons of ‘The Wire’ which were shown late on BBC2, and also ‘Occupation’. This 3-part British drama set in war-torn Iraq proved that our own home grown drama can be every bit as good as the American dramas that are so lauded. It was an amazing piece with very powerful performances by James Nesbitt and Stephen Graham. It was every bit as good as The Wire. I also, rather guiltily, enjoyed ‘Desperate Romantics’, the (very) fictionalised story of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, an art movement I’ve never really enjoyed, but this was great fun, again with great performances.

Let The Right One In

I’ve read a fair bit too as usual. I’ve previously blogged about my enjoyment of the novel, ‘Heartland’ by Anthony Cartwright which is probably my favourite book this year. I discovered the poetry of Jackie Kay, and enjoyed her ‘Adoption Papers’ and the collection ‘Darling’. More recently I read my first George Pelacanos (below) book, ‘The Night Gardener’, which was really absorbing and unexpected. It was very reminiscent of ‘The Wire’, which shouldn’t be a big surprise as he produces and writes a lot of it, but also had a downbeat quality with an interest in the ordinary and mundane details which I always enjoy and relate to.

As a postscript to the previos blog where I asked what am I going to do now ‘The Wire’ has finished, Santa kindly bought me the DVD miniseries ‘The Corner’, which was the precursor to ‘The Wire’ and the book ‘The Wire:Truth Be Told’, by Rafael Alvarez, the inside story of the series. So that should keep me going! Happy New Year!

(Please feel free to share some of your own lists...!)

The Wire

I watched the last episode of the final series of ‘The Wire’ on Tuesday evening. Earlier in the year we bought a HD recorder and recorded all five series when they were shown late on BBC2. Over the last few months, Diane and I have sat down every night to watch an episode totally gripped and drawn into this dense, complex and dark world of modern urban America. I’m suffering from withdrawal symptoms as I write. What shall I do with my evenings? How can I go to bed without my head full of Bunk, Bubbles and Omar, trying to disentangle the latest development in the plot, and trying to second guess how things will unfold, tense and frustrated that Marlo Stansfield and his crew still walks the streets of Baltimore…?

‘If it’s not the best thing you’ve ever seen, you’ve not seen it’, runs the excerpt from a review on the box set. I can’t help but agree. There has been so much written about it, and you can understand why. It’s off the air now (as usual I’m about two years behind everyone else), the series ending its run with HBO in March 2008. It was not by any means a hit, with the last episode aired to an audience of some 100,000’s rather than millions. It’s success was through the box sets and word of mouth, but it’s cultural impact resonates enormously. I don’t want to repeat the details of the show which has been extensively written about much better than I could ever hope to do here. The show’s own website www.hbo.com/thewire/ is a brilliant guide if you’ve not seen it, and has a great archive to the show and all that has been written about it. I just wanted to add a little about it’s impact on me and why I have felt so inspired by it.

I’ve just loved ‘The Wire’ and its characters. Over the course of each series the cast of characters continued to develop their stories and expand with new characters introduced, other ones finishing (often in untimely, violent deaths). I think the real achievement in why the series worked so well was not so much in the brilliantly innovative storytelling techniques, and the unflinching eye that it cast on the society and communities portrayed, but more in the traditions of why all great TV, Film and literature work: the ability to create great characters that draw you in, that you can empathise with, root for, that express something of our shared humanity. And this is what I loved above all else about The Wire (although I was amazed by the other things too). It’s interesting to note therefore that series creator, David Simon, says he had little interest as a writer in character development. Which you can see too in the sense that very little is explored about the individual characters background stories, motivations or personal lives, it is acted out in the moment in the greater service to the narrative arc. And yet who else can express something of our shared humanity as deeply as the character of Bubbles? How can you root for your favourite character (and Barack Obama’s) who is a violent outlaw like Omar Little who acts by his own screwed-up code of ethics that you think makes perfect sense? There were so many memorable characters amongst the regular cast: Valchek; Landsman; Denis; Brother Mouzone; Duquan and many, many more. The performances throughout have been inspiring. The stories told as much in a look or a gesture, as in the words spoken.

The boundaries between the so called ‘good guys’ (the law) and the ‘bad guys’ (the street, the drug gangs) were not so much blurred but obliterated. Most of the time, I felt more in sympathy with the street characters, which considering the often depraved lives they lived again says something of the skill in the writing. I even found myself in sympathy right at the end with ‘Snoop’, one of the most malevolent characters ever seen on TV, as she faced her own death. You couldn’t without hesitation say the lives they lived were wrong. For most, it was the only options they had, or bad decisions made from limited choices. It must be the one of the best written things about the black experience of living in modern America.as well as all the other issues it deals with. I’m not sure how much of an impact it has had on black audiences and whether they recognised it. I’d be really interested in finding this out.

Anyway, I could go on and on. I feel really lost without it. The big question for me now is: what am I going to watch now? Sheeee-it.