By God it moves!

Forgotten video footage of work in progress on a sculpture of my son Tristan.

My new camera has enabled me to view and edit a box of video tapes that I took twenty years ago. The tapes had been put away and all but forgotten about. One of them records work in progress on a sculpture of my son Tristan. Tristan had no means of knowing at nine months old that he'd be the brains behind editing the video twenty-one later.

I can now say, as Dylan Thomas said of poetry: By God it moves...and so by God it does!

Follow this link to view the video: https://youtu.be/x4hx0qHWDI0

Footnote:

This is the first of many work in progress videos that I have in mind. The quality of the presentations will improve with time, so bare with me. The User Manual for the editing program I'm using runs to 586 pages and that for my still and video cameras run to an additional 347 pages. That's a lot for my dyslexic brain to absorb. Fortunately, I have my computer savvy son on board to get me out of difficulties.

The nuance of newsprint

Denise: A demonstration sketch for lifeclass students.

The drawers of my drawing cabinet contain sheets of the finest all rag, all acid free paper. They cost a fortune and are seldom used. On the other hand, I am forever having to replenish my pile of cheap newsprint. I can relax before a 22" x 28" sheet of newsprint in the knowledge that a mistake will only cost me a few cents. Furthermore, I like the nuance of the subtle sepia shades it develops over a period of time. True enough, it's not archive material, but then again neither are my sketches - especially those I make as a demonstration for lifeclass students. 

What might have been.

The artist at age twenty, unaware of what the future held in store.

The opening photograph was spotted a member of my family on my brother's facebook page. Whilst I follow my brother's blog - it was my brother that introduced me to "blogging" in the 1990's - I am a person non grata on facebook. My paintings and sculptures of the female nude contravene their community guidelines. 

My brother's photograph set me thinking of what might have been, if I have been sane and sensible. Had I not turned my back on an engineer's drawing board in my twenties I might have risen through the ranks and for the last twenty years been bored to death in comfortable retirement. 

A second photograph on his facebook page brought home to me what commissions might have come my way had I pursued my work in public sculpture. But my sculptural passion led me towards the nude figure, which for the most part - that being the parts facebook objects to - is deemed unsuited for the public's gaze and detail is absent.   

A remarkably detailed sculpture by Andrew Sinclair MRBS 

recently unveiled in Halifax Town Centre.

When I was debating whether I should give up my job in engineering design, this quotation by Arthur Ransome tipped the scales in my favour:

Grab a chance and you won't be sorry for what might have been.

Thankfully, I grabbed the chance and have no regrets.

An invitation to share the creative process

I am always searching for ways that enable the viewer to enter the creative process. The finished work is one thing but the struggles that brought it about is quite another. This time around I'm attempting to do it by means of the moving image on film. I still use the word film even though nowadays it's video. Actually the word video is more accurate, for it's derived the the latin "to see". 

But I don't want the end result to be yet another "how to do it' instructional video. What I am after is the creative interplay between artist and model. It won't be easy to get this across. One needs to be superimposed on the other. The trials and errors of work in progress will need to be captured. 

I found the clue as to how to go about it, not from watching the attempts of other filmmakers, but by re-reading the novels of Jean Rhys. Her prose style is one of searching: of picking something up and putting it down again - often in mid sentence. And that is how the creative process works.

Annabelle as she is seen in my paintings.

My book "Notes on the Nude" contains a soliloquy that I murmured while working on one of my session with Annabelle. Perhaps similar murmured soliloquies from both artist and model could be the suggestive sound to go with the vision.

I’ve ten minutes left to save the day…Just relax in whichever way you choose…Where do I start…I’m seeing a line in silhouette that runs over the left breast and down to right thigh…Just one simple line with a hint of the rib cage…Now I can place the right breast and follow the curve to the hip…What a wonderful line that is…Keep it loose, don’t play about with detail…The face is largely hidden behind the left arm but that doesn’t make it easier…First I must let the chin fall into place…Now I can tie in the arms. The complication of the clasped hands I’ll leave to take care of themselves…Okay, stretch if you need to…No more line, just get the washes down, boldly, once and for all…My brush instinctively finds the earth colours I need…Leave the washes to find their own way…Keep the lights light and don’t be afraid of defining the darks around the face…The same touch of Indian Red serves for the lips and the nipples and the merest touch where the thighs meet…No time for background and it would be superfluous for what I am after…A glance at the clock tells me our time is up…To add more would be less.

There's no going back

 

The countryside of my childhood.

A few evenings ago I searched Goggle Earth for the countryside of my childhood. But my nostalgic trip down memory lane turned out to be a nightmare. Everything had changed beyond recognition. What I remembered as green fields are now housing estates. Alas, there's no going back.

On my wife's first visit to England, she got up at the crack of dawn and wondered through the countryside shown in the above painting. She came back to my parent's house clutching a bunch of dandelions. My mother pulled a face and told her that there were better flowers in the garden - they're just weeds. But to a West Indian, a dandelion is as exotic as the hibiscus or passion flower.

As a child I remember the "pop man" coming around with Dandelion and Burdock - a fermented drink made from the roots of the two plants - that he sold in returnable one gallon stone jars. 

Preaching to the Unconvertable

Pulpit. All Souls' Church, Halifax, Yorkshire (As I see it)

 

Pulpit. All Souls' Church, Halifax, Yorkshire (In reality)

The opening painting and photograph, speak of a lifetime's preaching to the unconvertable. What most people are after is an exact depiction, as against a different way of seeing. They just can't get their head around that which is divergent to the norm.

This post, in its brevity, gives you an insight as to what I'm up against - no matter what the subject or art form.

From a distance and down to earth

The opening photograph is a satellite image of my studio and surrounding countryside and the one below is of the same location down to earth.

Award winning novelist, Jean Rhys (1890-1979) was born and grew up in Dominica. The open scenes in her literary masterpiece Wild Sargasso, relate directly to the countryside that surrounds my studio. As she rightly remarks:

Too much blue, too much purple, too much green. The flowers too red, the mountains too high, the hills too near.

My week has likewise been spent reviewing work from a distance - that being forgotten videos taken thirty years ago of work in progress - and work accomplished in more recent times, as the subject for a video documentary on working from the live model. 

The extreme delicacy of form.

The veins of a leaf photographed against a deep red background.

 

My search for variations of the diaphanous for my Bare Minimum fashion label, led me to examine at close quarters, the veins of a leaf. As mentioned in an earlier post the dictionary defines diaphanous as:

"characterized by such fineness of texture as to permit seeing through", "extreme delicacy of form", and "insubstantial, vague".  

My challenge now is to replicate that delicate diaphanous structure into something that can be worn against the subtle dark skin tones of my models. 

 

From the dark areola of her breast, brown madder and yellow ochre merge. 

While sienna reds and blues subdued, in deep purple shadows converge.

16 x 9 vision and painting on the spur of the moment.

Breadnuts wrapped in the tree's fallen leaves.

My painting of breadnuts was made yesterday evening on the spur of the moment.  My wife placed her harvest of nuts, wrapped in leaves, down on the kitchen table. I painted it on the spur of the moment: the moment being ten minutes. 

For this blog post, it serves two fold: first, to show the elusive effect I aim for; and second, to practice seeing my subjects in 16 x 9 vision. In other words, the wide screen format.

The latter learning curve has been thrust on me by my "new" video camera. My old one saw scenes in 4 x 3 format. The wide screen is all very well for landscapes and reclining figures but it poses difficulties for portraits and the standing figure. I have been spending my evenings watching films that have won awards for cinematography to see if I can get the hang of it.  

By the way, breadnuts are from a different tree to breadfruit. Both species grow within a few yards from my studio. By this morning the leaves were in the compost and the nuts in a pot ready for cooking.

Breadnuts photographed in 4 x 3 format.

Differentiating between nude and lewd

Carnival is an opportune moment for me to differentiate between nude and lewd. The above painting of my wife Denise illustrates the natural beauty of the nude, unadorned with sexual connotations. The pictures below are two regional Carnival Queen contestants.

The following notes delve deeper into the subject:

A century ago the American artist Robert Henri wrote:

“There is nothing in all the world more beautiful than the nude human body. It is not only among artists, but among all people, that a greater appreciation and respect for the human body should develop. When we respect the nude we will no longer have any shame about it.”

In the Caribbean, carnival is culture and culture is classified as art. As an artist I have spent a lifetime depicting the beauty of the nude, and in particular, the beauty of the Afro-Caribbean female nude. From that perspective, let me try to differentiate between nude and lewd.

In the 1980’s, from my studio in the BVI, I began the paintings and sculptures in my series, “Daughters of the Caribbean Sun”. My mission was to extol the beauty of the Afro-Caribbean woman, unadorned by foreign influences. To achieve my objective I had to go beyond Marcus Garvey’s plea to “take the kinks out of your mind, not out of your hair”.

The nude figure is less sexually provocative than one that is scantily dressed. After the initial shock of the nude, the eye takes in the beauty of the body as a whole rather than being drawn to the parts tantalisingly hidden in the name of decency. I know that this is something that many people have difficulty getting their head around, but it is a fact. If I wanted my models to look sexy, I’d put them in a bikini and have them pose seductively, hand on hip.

This is where sexual lewdness corrupts an otherwise innocent picture. But differentiating one from the other can be a delicate balancing act. And this applies not only to the artist and model; carnival participants are also vulnerable.

Let me make it clear, I am not advocating that we revert to a state of nudity but that we do not succumb to an overload of missionary zeal. A comment in my visitors’ book from a Carnival Queen contender reads: You have opened my eyes and mind to true beauty.

Incidentally, age need not destroy beauty. A profound nude by the French sculptor Rodin portrays a woman in her eighties.

My subjects are not professional models. They come from all walks of life, from college graduates with a Ph.D. to market vendors. What they have in common is an understanding of what I am trying to portray. Without exception they have all found the experience liberating and uplifting. It is the model’s task to inspire and they are proud of their contribution to the creative process.

Before I begin a painting, or when instructing a life class, I cite the words of advice given by a past master of the figure:

“Take the shoes from off thy feet, for the ground you are about to step upon is Holy Ground”.

Perhaps it behoves us all to heed those words.

Capturing the essence of life before it's too late.

The opening picture is of St. Georges Market Place on the island of Grenada, and the sketches below are from the scores I made of the market in the 1980's for my book Caribbean Sketches. 

 

My mission in those far off days was to capture the essence of the islands before it was too late. It began with sketches made in the 1970's for my book Virgin Island Sketches. The contents of that book are now history. And the same goes for the hundreds of sketches that I made throughout the Caribbean.

The "Come See Department Store" (below) once stood a few yards away from the new - "all mod. cons" - Market Square shown in the closing image.

The New Market Square, Road Town, British Virgin Islands.

As the Dubliners sang of their own land in the 1970's...

The old ways are passing and soon will be gone
For progress is aye a big factor...

Farewell to the besoms of heather and bloom
Farewell to the creels and the basket
The folks of today, they would far sooner pay
For a thing that's been made out of plastic.

Shakespeare wouldn't stand a chance against today's censors

 

I've left it rather late in life to be brushing up my Shakespeare, but over the last year that is what I've been up to. In doing so it has brought me to the conclusion that he wouldn't stand a chance against today's censors. His suggestive writings have been banned from many schools in the United States and my interpretation of his lines from Venus and Adonis haven't fared any better.

The code of Shakespeare's writing is a difficult on to crack. In the words of jazz musician Wynton Marsalis: He's not going to come down to you; you have to go up to him. But having cracked the code you're in for some risqué double entendre surprises.

A double entendre that Shakespeare would have been proud of appeared in a press release about a new market square in the British Virgin Islands. At first reading, reference to the vendor's market stalls can be confused with reference to the male and female lavatory stalls in the adjoining toilet facilities. Either way, the stalls are a market version of Pete Seeger's "Little Boxes" hit song from the 1960's.

And they all look the same...

I'll leave you with Cole Porter's Brush up your Shakespeare from the musical Kiss me Kate.  

From clockwork to digital

 

The classic Bolex 16mm Camera

I started out in film at the age of eight, drawing my own animated film strips on rolls of post WW2 heavy duty toilet paper and viewing them on a projector that I had made out of a cardboard box. Fifty years ago, I progressed to a clockwork Bolex 16mm camera. This classic camera has been the choice for documentary film makers and it still retains a dedicated following. Twenty years ago I updated my equipment to early digital format, and this week I moved up to high definition digital. 

My "new" (already out of date) camera has none of the romance of my clockwork Bolex, nor the creative ingenuity of my cartoons on toilet paper. And although Sony have ambitiously enabled me to digitally set the date up to 2079 I doubt that the camera will last that long - but then again, neither will I. 

Furthermore, my Sony is not as photogenic as the Bolex.

My Sony HDR-FX7 Video Camera

My return to the moving image has been triggered by needing to capture the "movement" of my paintings, sculptures and fashion designs. None of my work is static. 

The poet Dylan Thomas, who was all for taking the highfalutin nonesense out of poetry, claimed that a reader's response to a good poem should be the same as viewers responded to the first motion picture: "By God it moves, and so by God it does!".

Getting caught: hook, line and sinker

When I was at a loss for what comes next in my Bare Mininum fashion designs, my wife caught me: hook, line and sinker. The word crochet is derived from the Old French croche, meaning "hook" and the pictures below show what she's been up to.

Forty years ago I may have been the first to hit on the idea of crochet bikinis. My insperation came from old ladies in the Virgin Islands skilled at fine crochet work. Since then crochet bikinis have been all the rage, but not as I originally conceived them. Today's versions are made from heavy threads in all colours and the end result is more suited for the North Pole than for the tropics.

Using the smallest needle and the finest thread Denise created Mk1 of a Bare Minimum version. They quintessentially follow my theme of subtly revealing the beauty of what lies beneath.

No sooner said than done!

On the banks of Shibden Brook

My brother's latest blog post makes reference to the countryside of our childhood and to a stream that we played alongide. His memory was prompted by the old picture postcard shown below. He adds, that he has yet to see any artist transpose its features to canvas, although he strongly suspects that he will receive an e-mail within the next few days to tell me he has done so several times. 

Well, if not on canvas, I've certainly painted the Shibden Valley, and the stream in question, on the best watercolour paper. Moreover, he can safely copy today's painting on his Facebook page. In more recent years my subject matter violates their stringent puritanical Community Guidlines. 

Long live the artistic freedom of Blogger!

 

Getting it right by letting it go wrong

One wet colour thrown down on another.

A watercolour can't go right until it has gone wrong is a truism all the more true when painting diaphanous cotton voile with fabric dye. The dye and fabric make a mockery of calculated control. The dye begs to bleed beyond imposed boundaries. It is when they are allowed freedom to interreact that the magic happens. As with watercolour, speed is of the essence and the best results are obtained by throwing one wet colour down on another.

Up to now, I have fraught shy of painting with fabric dye on cotton voile and have restricted myself to the tighten weave of cotton lawn. But the latter does not have the transparency of the former. And the veiled glimpse of what lies beneath the fabric is what I am after.

The subtlety of the design becomes all the more apparent after washing removes the surplus dye. The images below show a design before and after washing. The "before" image was photographed flat against a white background and the "after" image was photographed against the dark skin tones of the model. The final picture shows the imprint left on a paper towel used to absorb surplus dye during application - a surprising image created by accident rather than intent.

In watercolour the only white is the white of the paper. Likewise, when painting with dye, the only white is the white of the fabric. An added variable is the material's transparency and it's ability to cluster, drape and flirt in the breeze. 

At a fleeting glance

Light as a will o' the wisp.

Merriam-Webster defines diaphanous as "characterized by such fineness of texture as to permit seeing through", "extreme delicacy of form", and "insubstantial, vague".  

Diaphanous is derived from the Greek word diaphanes. The prefix dia- means "through", and phanous means "to show or to make visible". Thus, diaphanous translates directly as "to show through".

Shreads 

Both pictures refer to my Bare Minimum experiments. What I am after is not so much fashion, but a way of revealing at a fleeting glance the beauty of the human form.

Seaweed, the entrails of worms and the hides of oxen.

Experiments with block printing.

The seaweed in the title of this blog is Gracilaria, the Caribbean indigenous variety of seamoss. When soaked and converted to a gell it can be used to thicken the fabric dyes I use for block printing. I am experimenting with incorporating block printed designs to my Bare Minimum fashion lable. The process is centuries old and getting it right is a steep learning curve. 

While my hands are taken up with the task of carving the blocks my mind wanders on the subject of clothing in general and brings me to the "entrails of worms and the hides of oxen". On that score, the following quotation speakes volumns.  

The horse I ride...is his own sempster and weaver and spinner; nay his own bootmaker, jeweler and man-milliner; he bounds free through the valleys, with a perennial rainproof court-suit on his body...nay, the graces have also been considered, and frills and fringes, with gay veriety of colour, are not wanting. While I - good Heaven - have thatched myself over with dead fleeces of sheep, the bark of vegetables, the entrails of worms, and the hides of oxen or seals, the felt of furred beasts, and walk abroad a moving Ragscreen, overheaped with shreads and tatters raked from the Charnel-house of Nature, where they would have rotted, to rot on me more slowly. 

From Sartor Resartus by Thomas Carlyle, Scottish essayist, historian and philosopher (1795-1881)

Outdoors in a cold climate I can well believe needing the felt of furred beasts. But in the Caribbean women dress for autumn in New York, and jackets and ties are derigueur for attending Government meetings. Missionary zeal and Colonial hand-me-downs have a lot to answer for.

Freedom from Restraint

The subject of a painting should not be an end in itself, but a point of departure. 

So many painters today, especially those working in watercolour, slavishly copy from photographs. If the medium of watercolour could speak it would surely say: For God's sake set me free.

For thirty years I have been hammering home this message to artists and art students throughout the world by way of my blog posts. For those working from the live model my book "Notes on the Nude" drives home the same message.

The painting I have used to illustrate my point was made there and then from life. The "there" being a hillside between rain showers, and the "then" being less than five minutes from start to finish. Rather than spoiling my painting, the rain aided and abetted it.

I don't expect my painting to garner the "beautiful", "lovely" and "nice" comments, but it honestly speaks of life and it's not "just like a photograph". 

Facebook and the Fine Art of Censorship

Work in progress on a life-size reclining figure.

 

Todays image is just one of thousands that have been deemed as inappropriate for the eyes of Facebook subscribers. Since their inception in the mid 1990's blogs have served as a valuable record of artists' work in progress. But alas, links on Facebook to blogs such as mine are ruled as spam by the administrators and immediately deleted. Appeals on the ground of legitimate art content, fall on deaf ears. 

Why the majority of art societies favour Facebook as their preferred means of communication is beyond me. No organization has done more to censor artistic expression. 

Nothing serves better to bring this message home than this brilliant YouTube video. 

In trying to find ways around this ban I was reminded of Guinness Brewery takeover of Bells Scotch Whisky in 1985. At the time, publication of the slogan "Guinness Is Good For You" was prohibited on health grounds. In order to attract Bell's shareholders, Guinness used the ban to their advantage and took out a full page add in the Times Newspaper. Other than the heading "Message to Bells Shareholders", the page appeared to be completely blank. But on closer inspection, in the smallest type size available, were the words: Guinness Is Good For You.

My attempt to evade the searching eyes of Facebook censors hasn't the subtlety of the Guinness ploy, but it seems to work. The permitted image shown below enables Facebook users to copy the link to this blog.

Larger than life

 

In my book Notes on the Nude, under the heading "A New Visual Experience", I mention that I am forever searching for different ways of presenting my work in the belief that there has to be more to exhibiting paintings than static pictures on walls. If, as been said, my paintings represent a different way of seeing, it follows that there needs to be a different way of viewing

One variation that I have been experimenting with is fast-moving audio-visual presentations of images for the large screen. A watercolour no larger than the page from a newspaper takes on a completely new visual experience when projected to the size of a house wall. My video Body and Soul represents a first step in that direction. 

I give credit to William Shakespeare for inspiring the theme for the paintings. 

Incidentally, had Shakespeare lived today, rather than 400 years ago, he would most likely be regarded as a persona non grata on Facebook.

Painterly Painters

A clip from a YouTube preview for my book Notes on the Nude

For many artists it's not just my paintings of the nude that shocks but my way of painting. This particularly applies to those watercolourists who seek to achieve a photographic likeness down to the last minute detail. If the paint itself could speak it would say: For God's Sake Set Me Free!

One of the notes in my book Notes on the Nude refers to this dilemma. 

Painterly Painters

My paintings suggest rather than the defined detail. I leave it to you to interpret them as you may. The American painter and writer, Charles Movalli has this to say about those he terms painterly painters.

The painterly painter uses the viewer's experience to give life to the work. Instead of being a passive receiver of information, the viewer becomes a participant…Painterly painters believe that an abbreviated style is best suited to capturing elusive effects. But although they consciously strive to develop a rapid execution, their detractors often criticize this characteristic, dismissing their work as little more than sketches…The painterly painters labour under a disadvantage, since their idea of finish is not that of the general public.

This link takes you to a YouTube preview of my book and this link enables you to preview and purchase.

Notes on the Nude e-book

 

My book Notes on the Nude is now available as an e-book. Click the link.

The book contains 100 high definition illustrations of my paintings and sculptures and the notes express my personal approach to depicting the nude and to working in accord with the model. They are not meant as a course of instruction or an academic thesis. As with my paintings, they were jotted in the heat of the moment and suggest rather than define.

To circumvent the reluctance of publishers when it comes to depicting the nude, the entire production has been done in-house, or more to the point, "in studio". Hence, the book comes directly from me to you from my island of Dominica in the Caribbean. 

I welcome your feedback.

Unlikely bedfellows

Untitled sketch by Roger Burnett

Untitled painting by Tracy Ermin

Although my work and that of Tracy Ermin are unlikely bedfellows - and more especially when it comes to her controversial "Unmade Bed" and other installations. But we do have the freedom of line in common. And freedom of line reflects freedom of thought; and freedom of thought is an essential component of art. 

A shameful thing

Pudendum (plural pudenda)

Definition: The external genital organs, especially the female vulva.

From the Latin: A thing to be ashamed of.

Curiously, what nature devised to attract we consider shameful and visually degrade it to the realms of phonography. This conundrum has led me to the series of paintings that I am currently working on. Perhaps the fleeting suggestive sensuousness of my watercolours can rescue the pudendum from its shameful state and innocently reveal its beauty. 

A faultless recollection

 

A recently discovered photograph of an early watercolour of my wife Denise. 

I can recollect all the paintings that have flowed from my brush over the last sixty years - with the exception of this one. It is an early watercolour of my wife Denise and would have been painted in the early 1990's aboard our boat in the Caribbean but I cannot remember painting it. It's image survives on a faded colour slide. I can only assume that the original sold.

The fortunate buyer, whoever it may be, has a rare paintings that I cannot fault. 

They will adorn you like ancient Jezebel

The opening pictures show Sudanese fashion model Adit Priscilla, before after her claim to fame. In the before picture she could well have modelled for the paintings and sculptures in my series Daughters of the Caribbean Sun. True enough, it would have been the Sedan sun. But no matter, all my models are of African decent. 

To those who keep asking: I have not given up on my Bare Minimum fashion label. It is just that my creative energy is presently taken up with other projects. The unknown young lady in the picture below temps me back. She leaves the world's fashion designers and catwalk models standing.