Newsletter: February 2024
In the rhythm of making artwork, February has been about thinking and planning new work for upcoming shows, and mulling over a new commission, combined with the rising panic that comes when you realise how little time you have and how slow you are!!
I’ve been out and about in the weather gathering ideas, lots of weather in fact; rain(almost constantly), snow and big storms too! Not so much sun to be honest, although I am sitting in the studio today and the sun is warming my back which feels blissful-I’m not looking out of the window as the antics of the sheep in the field are too distracting and I wouldn’t get anything done! The Curlews and Skylarks are back, so despite all the rather grim weather, it does feel like spring is coming. Personally I love winter, but the version I love is those cold crisp days when you can walk for miles, rather than the reality of this winter, which has been more about wading through boggy fields, and coping with absolutely no natural light in the studio at all for days on end, which is such a problem for painting.
In amongst all this, I’ve been thinking about why I paint; it’s a question I’m often asked…When I was very little, about 3 I think, I can remember my Dad, sitting working on a ‘double elephant’ sized drawing table, with a parallel motion.
It lost it’s parallel motion a long long time ago, and the lovely wooden top is covered for protection, but it’s still here with me in the studio, and part of my everyday process and life; a really tangible link to my lovely Dad.
Double Elephant is one of the wonderful old paper sizes, much more colourful and descriptive than A1, AO etc…It’s actually 673mm x 1016 mm, and just one of the names given to Imperial paper sizes-Grand Eagle is another, even larger size much used by the amazing illustrator of birds, John J. Audubon.
Anyway, back to the story! As a small child the way my Dad made his artwork in black Pelican ink, and with an array of pens and brushes, seemed a kind of magic…and working in art seemed like a natural part of life to me. For a long time teaching art became my focus, and I spent many happy years teaching at Secondary school level, running a department and then as an advisor to schools and colleges…it was truly wonderful, and I don’t regret a second, but as anyone who takes teaching seriously will tell you, it takes all your creativity and energy, and leaves little for your own practice….Eventually I took the leap, and decided to focus on my own work. I think it had been building in me for many years; a really powerful ache to paint, and to see where my own ideas would take me…
So why do I paint?? Well, I think it’s complicated… I love music, but I can’t sing or play an instrument myself…
Painting for me is a profound way of communicating, very like making music in so many ways, and I can say things in paint that I could never manage in words. So it is a lot to do with a desire to communicate, to connect with people, and to express myself freely. The process of painting is also complicated; sometimes it’s stressful, sometimes a massive relief from other pressures in life and a huge source of joy and excitement….the physicality of painting is something I love; moving paint around and mixing colours, working with different tools from super precise to massive and free, making expressive marks and using your whole body in the process.
One of the biggest motivations is about the impact owning a painting has on the people who love and live with them. For me homes without pictures seem clinical and bare, and I know that we are very lucky to live our lives surrounded by artwork of different kinds. We have loads of my Dad’s paintings and anatomical studies he made when he was a student, some of which have now spread out from our home to our son’s too, and I love that this builds the connection with the Grandad he sadly never knew…there’s also work by others artists whose work we all love, and some of mine too; pieces which are special to my family.
Paintings aren’t just about decoration, although they are a wonderful way of bringing life and soul to a space, making it feel more than bricks and mortar. They’re also about making connections between people, and for me with the open spaces I love to paint; with the power of landscape and weather. I hope that there’s a universality about the places I paint…although they always come from a specific place and time, in their abstraction I hope they mean something to people far and wide, because in the end, they aren’t about individual trees and stones, but about atmosphere and the feelings and sensations of being there.
Probably all artists have a small collection of personal ideas and themes, and by working with these and tapping into my own emotional reactions, I hope these feelings are conveyed to the people looking at and living with my paintings. I’ve always been nervous about being too specific about my own themes and preoccupations, but they centre around a sense of yearning, quietness, peace and solitude, open space and sometimes impending storm, and so these things really are my subject matter.
I tend to go out walking early in the morning and late in the afternoon…there’s something about the light and the sky then and I can find the quietness and solitude I’m looking for. I’ve spent all month working on a large panel, about 120cm x 90 cm…I’ve been fascinated by the weird and wonderful skies we get over Nidderdale, in this case from early evening, and this painting is about the feeling of being out watching the colours and textures develop across land and sky.
The speeded up video below shows me building up early layers in the painting, and hopefully gives an idea of how I work to build directional and expressive marks, working loosely and trying to keep a sense of flow….I’m working on a panel, fixed to my painting wall.
The grid of images below, shows some of the stages the painting went through…some are close ups sections and others show the whole piece…please click on an image to see it larger, and click on the arrow to scroll through.
The image below shows the whole painting; finished I think??? I just need to live with it for a little while as usual to be sure…I think it’s going to be called Prelude.
It’s horrible to photograph by the way, and I haven’t managed to capture all the depth and texture in the foreground…it has so many layers and there are very subtle transitions in colour and value, which really are a nightmare to do justice to in a photo….On this particular evening there was a weird combination of stillness and calm, combined with dramatic looking clouds.
Prelude: an atmospheric abstraction about a rich skyscrape above a wide open stretch of moorland.
If you would like to learn more about the way I work, do have a proper mooch around my website.
To see work in the flesh, you can visit any of the lovely galleries I work with; Silson Contemporary, Northern Lights Gallery, Look Gallery, and the Jerram Gallery, all of which have current displays of my work.
Until next time take care and have a lovely month, keep in touch and let me know if you have any comments, queries or suggestions for things to cover- I love reading them and really appreciate all your lovely feedback.
Jo Xx
All content, text and images ©Jo York 2024