Monday, July 9, 2018

The Drift of Memories



On occasion I change mediums, and this sculpture is the fourth one I've made that is primarily a model construction. I've always loved looking at models, whether they are of cities, stage sets or doll's houses. In a sense, it's like viewing life in miniature.

At first I was a little apprehensive at calling it sculpture, the reason being that I've always considered sculpture as a carving or a casting from a clay model. But so much Modernist and contemporary sculpture is a construction, but on a massive scale, this one is simply the same thing on a small scale. I've included some examples of the work in progress. The hardest thing to do was the camera, and it took days to figure out how to bring the three legs together and keep the perpendicularl centre pole in a vertical position. I ended up making a miniature scaffolding that held the pole in the right position then angled the legs carefully to join them all up.

Most small models are about what the eye sees, by that I mean they tell you what a real stage set will look like, or the type of dwelling a small doll would inhabit, or the look of a town that once existed, but what I'm aiming for is to make something that suggests what isn't present. 

The title is about the way memories can be so important, something we need to capture and retain, but in time they begin to drift until they all fade.




The Drift of Memories, 2018, balsa wood, MDF, polymer clay,
 40.5 x 28.5 x 23.75 cm (hxwxd)

























Thursday, July 5, 2018

Moonrise

Moonrise, 2018, oil on canvas, 30.5 x 30.5 cm


With this painting I aimed to contrast the calm in the background against some agitation of the foreground water. It's also done from my memory of a twilight sky over Lake Wendouree in Ballarat. 

It took a while to do, because although there is not much detail, sometimes I added one or two small lights in the background and a few more ripples in the water. I find that my pictures advance in waves, but over time. Some artists can make work as if it was done in a single wave, and it probably was, but I can't do that myself.

Monday, July 2, 2018

Drawing Tim


As the photo shows, Tim posed with his camera for around three hours, and returned for a short while on another day so I could finish the drawing. I love hands, and so I appreciate the effort Tim put in so I could draw them. Tim is a photographer and tapestry weaver, to see Tim's art. click HERE




Tim Gresham, 2018, pencil on paper