Colour / Not Colour 4: I Got The Blues

These city streets really are a gift that keep on giving.

Here, in a unloved corner of an overlooked backwater, I am drawn to gorgeous juaxtapositions of saturated and neutral colour, but also find the found flawed geometry of fields meeting edges, a textual conundrum, hazard graphics, entropy, absence, time, and numerous other clues.

East Leicester, June 2014

So many of my favourite things, in fact.

Completed Painting: 'Consumed 2'

'Consumed 2', Acrylics & Paper Collage On Panel, 100 cm X 100 cm, 2014

It’s taken a while but, at last, I have a new painting to show you.  This one’s called ‘Consumed 2’ and picks up from where it’s predecessor, (‘Consumed 1’, predictably enough), left off.

'Consumed 1', Acrylics & Paper Collage On Panel,
100 cm X 100cm, 2014

As I’ve already outlined, these paintings are an attempt to revisit some smaller-scale experimental pieces, made in 2010, which essentially started the general phase of work in which I’ve been immersed ever since.  Those pieces were as much collages, as paintings, and were an attempt to integrate text elements into a nominally abstract composition.  They also made direct reference to the layers of torn advertisements and fragments of printed street text I both photograph and collect.  In those respects, they represent three key features that have recurred throughout my work in recent years.

'Untitled 2', Acrylics & Paper Collage On Board,
60 cm X 60 cm, 2012

'Untitled 4', Acrylics & Paper Collage On Board,
60 cm X 60 cm, 2012

However, as is often the case with such beginnings, those early pieces were somewhat tentative and not particularly well resolved.  Having decided that 2014 should be essentially about consolidation, rather than opening up any new creative avenues for a while, I felt it was worth exploring what they might have been, had I known then what I do now, as it were.  These recent reinterpretations certainly follow the almost total collage approach, although, as ever, there is paint in there at various levels.  They've also seen me wielding my electric sander with increasing enthusiasm throughout their development.  That's something I got back into after seeing the beautifully nuanced surfaces of Stewart Geddes' 'Zed Alley' paintings, earlier this year, and I can only apologise to my neighbours for the persistent droning emanating from my back yard.

Stewart Geddes, 'Ellerhoop' (Detail), Oil & Mixed Media On
Wooden Panel, Date Unknown

Two other obvious correspondences are the use of an essentially chance-operation mode of arriving at a composition, and the largely monochrome palette employed, (essentially black, white and greys with the merest hints of actual colour).  As with its predecessor, this painting has a relatively formal composition in its final form, but that coalesced from a pretty loose and unpremeditated process of establishing dark and light areas initially.  Although it seemed to take a lot longer to resolve in this piece, the method currently feels like a less pressured way to deal with some of my uncertainties over how to develop paintings over the last year or so.

As far as the palette goes, almost totally removing considerations of colour in favour of a tonal scheme has felt like a useful return to fundamentals, (variation within limited means, balancing polar opposites, the properties of positive and negative elements, relationships between figure and ground, etc.).  As is always the case though, it’s also raised a whole new set of issues and potential problems to be solved.

West Leicester, January 2012

West Leicester, August 2012

Not least of these is how to employ blacks or near blacks whilst avoiding the kind of turgid grubbiness that can result from working with straightforward black pigment.  In this case, my frustrated wrangling with this problem was only really resolved when I came upon a supply of spotted black tissue paper by chance.  Such serendipitous occurrences are always to be welcomed and, in this case, allowed me to energise hitherto dead areas of the painting whilst chiming in with the theme of printers’ half-tone dots on a new scale.

My instinct is to continue this mini-series by attempting a predominantly noir variation on the theme whilst exploring a richer palette of ‘blacks’ tinted with different hues.  However, I must admit, another part of me rather misses the more vividly saturated colours I was employing a while back.  As things stand, I could easily go either way in my next major piece.

In fact, there may be another delay before that can happen.  Much of this summer will now need to be devoted to a collaborative project I’ve agreed to work on for Melbourne Festival, (Derbyshire, not Australia).  The festival falls in September, but there are plenty of decisions to be made, and some quite large-scale elements to produce between now and then, which I really need to prioritise in coming weeks.  I've taken it on in the hope that a deadline to meet will shake me out of my recent relative sluggishness, and that I'll return to stuff done purely on my own agenda with more vigour, once it's completed.  Anyway, more about all that when there’s something more concrete to discuss…

Colour / Not Colour 3: Yellow Edge

Everywhere I look...

East Leicester, June 2014

...These thrilling Cadmium Yellow interventions, punctuating urban blank zones.  (Never get tired of the car parks).

My White Bicycle

From one mode of (highimpact) transport, to another (much lower impact) form.  I turned 52 today and can finally enjoy a present I’ve been looking forward to for several weeks.  After feeling some improvement in my creaky knees, in the latter stages of last year, I started to spend more time on my bike and started to get interested in the idea of acquiring a new one.  My trusty old purple steed still works, but is starting to show its age, having been purchased in 1992.  The choice was between a major re-fettle, or the indulgence of a new one.  Needless to say, after a few hours of online research and casually lurking around bike shops, consumerist indulgence won out.

Although much of my cycling is inevitably urban in nature, I take little pleasure in riding on traffic-clogged roads, and I'm always looking for the back routes, towpaths, unofficial cut-throughs, and those more liminal or derelict tracts of territory that feature so often in my photography.  Hence, I’ve always found that a Mountain Bike is the most versatile and comfortable form of bike for me, sacrificing a little speed in favour of the ability to scramble over less well-paved terrain, and possibly get out into the sticks occasionally if I need some respite and recalibration from the city.  I became intrigued by the changes in design that have affected MTB technology since I last bought a bike, (not least suspension, disc brakes and a more relaxed riding position).  More superficially, I’m still very attracted to the chunky aesthetics of such bikes too.

Having identified the model I wanted, I allowed a salesman to persuade me they were rapidly selling fast out due to desirability and bought ‘the last one of these we’ll get’ some weeks earlier than planned.  I'm sure it's the oldest sales trick in the book, but salting it away until today has allowed me the delicious anticipation of a birthday bike to look forward to, - something I remember with great pleasure from my childhood.  Of course, life being what it is, it’s been slashing down with rain today, putting a bit of a dampener on my slightly Tantric sense of deferred gratification.  Luckily, we got a two hour window of sunshine and I immediately jumped on the saddle to play out.  I’m also bemused by the fact that, almost as soon as I’d put down a deposit on the machine, my knee problems started to reappear.  Anyway, I may be an old geezer, but I’m not quite ready to give up just yet.  My legs will just have to improve again now, - I’ve spent the money.

There's A Bloke In Glastonbury Who'll Do This To Your Own Spec.  How Could I Resist?

Of course, this post is largely about showing off.  However, it also means that if some toe-rag tries to steal my bike, the whole Internet knows this one's mine now.  I’ve talked before about how cycling is one of my preferred methods of exploring the urban environment, and inevitably, many of the photos that appear on this blog in the future will have been accessed with my new two wheeled toy.  Mostly though, everyone just deserves a new bike from time to time.

Last Week Drag Racing,  Now This.  Conflicted? - Me?

Thanks should also go to my Mother for making it possible by chipping in with a bit of pre- birthday finance.  Cheers, Mum.

'Faster, Faster', (Shifting Gear).

Willys Dragster

I’m conscious there haven’t been too many posts on here about my own artwork for a while.  Although work continues, progress has been slow and I’ve been feeling a bit bogged down and uninspired generally, not just in terms of my art, for a few weeks now.  The school Summer holidays are here now, bringing the luxury of unbroken, usable time, but I’ve decided to shake things up by deliberately doing some non, (or only tangentially) art-related stuff with my Summer alongside the obvious attempts to get on with the painting.

1957 Chevrolet Bel Air, Gasser Dragster

I wasted a lot of last year’s holiday really, then felt frustrated afterwards, so this year my intention is to avoid getting too intense about it all again by leavening the mix of my activities generally.  Whilst individual pieces can always cause dissatisfaction, I’m not too unhappy with the general thrust of my work, so the theory is that, if I’m feeling a little more stimulated and mentally refreshed overall, the painting will start to inspire me a bit more too.  Thinking about it, it may not even be the root problem at all.

The Finish Line

Thus, I found myself at Santa Pod Raceway in Northamptonshire to watch some Drag Racing the other day, - something that’s well outside my comfort zone of customary activities, and all the more enjoyable for that very reason.  So why am I telling you about it?  I guess, because it just reveals that, however deliberately outside the gallery or ‘studio’ I may put myself, I always end up experiencing most things through the filter of sensory stimuli, and relishing the essential strangeness and excitement of a new situation as an abstract mélange of sights, sounds, smells, and related sensations.  Essentially, that’s where being an artist really starts for me, and I love the fact that I can see pretty much anything in those terms, whatever category of activity or scale of spectacle it may represent.

Funny Car Dragster Supercharger

Willys Dragster Supercharger

Anyway, enough philosophy.  Regular readers will have noticed that, whilst hardly a petrol head, (just the opposite in many respects), I have a vestigial interest in slightly unusual vehicles, inherited from my late father’s love of all things mechanical, and vintage vehicles in particular.  This inevitably rubbed off on me, and often being drawn to the alternative or extreme, my particular adolescent enthusiasm was for hot rods and dragsters.  My interest centred far more on the aesthetics of it all than on the nuts and bolts, and the bizarre stylistic conventions of that scene allowed my imagination full range.  All this coincided with the 1970’s, - a period when it seemed perfectly natural to build a car that resembled a cartoon as much as possible, (it’s kitsch on wheels, essentially).  ‘Whacky Races’, Hot Wheels toys, Revel model kits and ‘Custom Car’ magazine were very much part of the zeitgeist for me at an impressionable age.

1932 Ford Tudor Sedan With Period Trailer.

1956 Chevrolet Bel Air

As another birthday approaches, and I move deeper into my fifties, I’ve started to list things that I’ve meant to do but just never got round to.  I think of it more as a ‘walking stick list’ than a ‘bucket list’, but either way it’s just a reminder to myself to avoid excessive routine and to keep enjoying new experiences while they’re still achievable.  Going to the drag racing, for old time’s sake if nothing else, was an easily realised item, and I enjoyed every minute.  The event in question was Santa Pod’s annual ‘Dragstalgia’ weekend, when older vehicles on the scene come together to recapture something of the 70’s golden age, (not just for me then, it seems).  When I realised that the venue was only just over an hour’s drive away, it seemed too good an opportunity to miss.  The fact that several of the drivers piloting their potential death traps down the strip were apparently of pensionable age helped to put my list into context too.  You can pay for a ride in a two-seater dragster at Santa Pod, - I wonder…?

Slingshot Dragster Reversing On To Start Line

For those unfamiliar with the sport, Dragster Racing involves accelerating ludicrously over-powered cars in a straight line, traditionally for a quarter-mile, in as short a time as possible.  Whilst two hopefully well-matched cars race alongside each other, the real competition is against the clock, with vehicles in a particular class returning to the strip repeatedly on an elimination basis, until the fastest is decided upon.  Competition classes relate to differing technical specs and the fuel used, (Methanol and Nitro Methane generally yielding higher performance than straightforward Gasoline).

Slingshot Dragster Reversing On To Start Line

The cars vary from the narrow, elongated and purely functional ‘slingshot’ or ‘rail’ forms, through bizarre, distorted mutations of something vaguely recognisable as a traditional car, to those not too far removed from regular production vehicles, (often termed ‘Door Slammers’).  There’s an appreciation of the retro and the incongruous, and flamboyant paint jobs, featuring flames, stripes and lurid signwriting, are de rigeur.  Rear wheels are massive, whilst front wheels can be minimal, (handling’s not really the issue here).  The preferred power source is a massively over-tuned American V8 engine, with short, open exhausts, and possibly, a huge supercharger with gaping air intake, mounted on top.  Ideally, the reimagined engine should be exposed, or too large for any bodywork to enclose, resulting in a very public display of ‘mines bigger than yours’ machismo.

Competition Altered Dragster, All The Way From Germany

Funny Car Dragster

If this all sounds pretty juvenile, I’d say yes, - gloriously so.  There’s a kind of cheerful numbscullery about the attempt to squeeze almost unimaginable amounts of power from relatively traditional technology, to the point where steering the thing in a straight line for a few seconds is a major achievement.  American automotive engineering is traditionally about ironmongery and sheer muscle as much as sophistication or anything distracting, like turning corners.  Drag racing is, I guess, the epitome of that.

1960s Slingshot Dragster Engine

Reason has very little to do with it and spectacle is all.  The deafening racket and seismic impact of an unsilenced, high-revving V8 must be experienced to be believed, and flaming exhausts and massive clouds of smoke are routine.  The wheel spinning ‘burnouts’ undertaken to soften tires for improved traction are an important part of the ritual and acquire an added dimension when performed in deliberately ignited puddles of petrol!  There can be no justification for any of this on environmental grounds, of course, but the carbon footprint of a season’s racing in the name of a little entertaining release, is probably a fraction of that, globally, of routine air travel or the reluctant daily commute.

1939 Ford Pickup

Two Willys Hoods With Air Intakes

Watching a seemingly endless procession of vehicles, each running in a straight line for a few seconds, might sound like it would quickly lose its novelty, but I found it enduringly entertaining and strangely hypnotic.  Without a long lens, and with many vehicles achieving speeds nearing 200 mph, I found it hard to capture the action very well in my photos, but luckily, there are already several YouTube videos giving a better impression of the specific event.

In fact, my best images from the day were collected whilst walking amongst the competitors’ pits and the Hot Rods and Custom Cars in the ‘Show & Shine’ display.  I’ve mentioned before, my fascination with the aesthetic mannerisms and attention to detail exhibited in such vehicles, and many such styles were represented, from artfully contrived junk-yard chic, to the sleek, contemporary contours of a shimmering tangerine 34 Ford Coupe.

VW Microbus Rat Rod

Rat Rod Pickup

1957 Chevrolet Bel Air & 1939 Ford Pickups

1934 Ford Coupe

1959 Cadilliac Eldorado Tail Fins

What really cheered me most about the day was probably the laid-back, communal atmosphere of the whole event.  It was pleasingly possible to explore the pit area and examine at close quarters the very vehicles that had been breathing fire and making the earth shake just minutes earlier.  There’s something thrilling about stepping to one side to allow a crackling, polychromatic monster, capable of releasing horsepower in the thousands, to casually trundle past.

1956 Chevrolet Bel Air, Rat Gasser Dragster

1932 Ford Model B Roadster

A grounded blue-collar vibe prevailed, with none of the exclusivity and restricted access one would expect at many sporting events. The small encampments around each vehicle were as much relaxed family gathering as intense racing team.  The cars often undergo extensive mechanical re-fettling between runs, but as many people were simply hanging out and amiably shooting the breeze, as wielding spanners.  I often enjoy witnessing the tribal rituals of a particular subculture and, on limited acquaintance; I’d say the Nostalgia Drag Racing fraternity resembles a cheery, generous-spirited constituency.  Certainly, I was struck by the contrast between their down to earth demeanour, and the power-worship and potentially life-threatening feats being performed just metres away.

'Gas Attack', Ford Anglia Dragster

My few hours at the Drags were a world away from my regular beat of galleries and solitary artistic activity, and all the more refreshing for that.  In reality, of course, the kitsch tropes and Rock ‘n’ Roll aspects of Hot Rod culture have intrigued plenty of Pop and post-Pop artists over the years.  I’m left with memories of painted flames, burning rubber, (and a distinct ringing in the ears); but also with thoughts of Richard Prince’s found Muscle Car body sculptures, the Pop Paintings of Peter Phillips and the auto-fetishistic Photorealism of Peter Maier.  Mostly though, I’m left with the pleasure of having witnessed something taken to excess for the sheer fun of it.

Richard Prince, 'Second Place (Oak Hill, Preston Hollow, Canal Zone,
Haight-Ashbury)', GRP, Body Filler, Acrylic, Plywood, 2003-04

Peter Phillips, 'Art-O-Matic Cudacutie', Oil On Canvas, 1972

Peter Maier, 'Jaws', DuPont Cromax AT On Aluminium, 2009-10