voy who?

making small talk and someone is talking about an occurrence, are we voyeurs in some small way? Are we intruding or peeping into an event that we had no part in? Why are we interested in what is being told? Many reasons....
To what extent do we beguile and seduce in the telling of a story? Do we colour and embellish to gain the attention of the listeners? Do we facilitate their voyeurism?
What kind of thrill do we provide by the recounting of a story? Is it like finding a fresh motor car accident along the highway of catching a glimpse of exposed skin in a crowd?
Do we play this game intentionally or is it a subconscious reaction to hold the listeners attention?
Imagine opening a box of possessions and lifting out objects one by one...things you know nothing about...they enthrall you and there is a frisson of discovery... Why? What is it we get excited about?
In the work I am doing right now, I am playing off different images and trying to confront the viewer with images that may trigger predictable reactions and then contrasting the imagery with something unexpected.
Here are two views of two different pieces. The upper is a glimpse of a figure through a small window and the lower image is ons of the "magic" boxes with the various sliding panels and dead end storage spaces. They are both only aspects of the entire work and are still in process.

sisters

two sisters painted. Tried to keep it light and loose and fun. Thank goodness for digital photography which allows me to shoot as many pictures as I can of children...they can be so fickle and difficult to get a good shot. In this case they were two angels and really worked hard to give a smile with mom coaching them off camera.
I used an oilpaint wash with turpentine which I rubbed off in places and gave a lovely tonal range. Lots of glaze as always.
Now back to the main work of getting my history story done.
Snow has fallen and I can more easily stay indoors and work. Less distractions.
Also working on my new website with the crew of Squareflo.com They are helping me build a fine and refined new website which will host my blog and everything else. Now my illustration work will be side by side with my fine art stuff.

look through

working on the billboard style "mimesis", I kept feeling as though I wanted something more on the main picture...to suggest that there would be more hidden elsewhere. I painted an eye looking through a hole where the right eye would be.
Meanwhile I have been working on the preparation of other pieces and experimenting with some technical ideas, adding digital imagery by using a transfer film and getting some smaller pieces covered in silver point ground for drawings.
Nothing much to show there...only the new eye which I thought was worth looking at.

mimesis nemesis

mimesis, the old Greek concept of copying. The thought was that art was mimesis, it copied nature. Art could invent nothing. Its an old debate.
But in the stream of what I am working on, its a reference to the copying or almost miming of stories and history which one tells in social interactions. I "copy and paste" stories into a conversation from my memory.
When one is faced with explaining about yourself... telling about who you are and not just peripheral framework regarding yourself... one is faced with the rather large question about how you portray who you are. Do you under state in the belief that the cultural system of the audience is able to process understatement? Or do you inflate and colour the story for effect, knowing that the listeners will desaturate the story as with most media they come into contact with. (one hopes!)
The way one loads meaning into or onto the verbal picture you create is so easy to miscalculate and change the true nature of the point you are making.
In this image, a billboard style picture of myself,I present myself as a face one would find on a sideshow advert. Its the well worn sign board that is put out to attract the curious to come and see the freak show, the bearded lady, the tattooed man, the lizard creature. I have a single rhino horn growing from my forehead. Rhinos are pretty dangerous and lack good eyesight, they tend to rush in horn first, ready to gore any shadow, more bluff than lethal intent.
Its also a reference to the famous self portrait of Albrecht Durer in which he presents himself as a sophisticated gentleman, his long hair in carefully painted ringlets.
The halo.... so many people unconsciously want the artist to be fired into creativity by the Furor Divinus...divine madness... as though its a fragment of greatness or a touchstone of magical power. This is my worn and damaged and rather tacky halo which is worn on ceremonial occasions only. Hoarknockle dragged it out of the vault for this performance. Specially.
The whole surface of the image will be degraded and aged and faded to make it look old and worn. Rather a has been billboard.
The surprise will lie in the center of the work...which is in fact two narrow doors that hinge in the middle of the piece.
On the narrow faces of the two edges that meet when the hinges are closed, will be painstakingly painted insects against a dark background... once again a reference to the concept of Vanitas...the insects taken from 17th Century still lifes.
But thats still not there...for now its the billboard..getting older by the minute.. paint peeling and flaking off.

pittsburgh entry

a brief flurry of urgency in the studio as I rushed to get this ready for shipping to the Pittsburgh Society of Illustrators exhibition.
This is a work I originally created digitally to explore the concept of packing and unpacking as a metaphor for telling stories. The idea of blackbirds escaping from a baked pie is wonderful and has the magical and surprising quality I look for.
These birds are packed in boxes along with various other references to them and what they do.
I printed the piece on watercolour paper and pasted it to a thin sheet of plywood, sanding off the corners to emulate the way old photos are worn away, corners go missing and they develop all kinds of irregular shapes.
The frame is built to look like the top of an old box, now opened, showing some of the wooden slats that closed it and nails where the wood would have been broken away. Beneath the main picture are a few other old papers as though this would have been a box containing old memorabilia and now opened to reveal a picture of birds in boxes. The frame and wooden parts are made from old cedar fence boards al grey and broken down from years of being outdoors.
I took a brush to the digital print and added some darker areas and highlights and glazed it to add depth.
What I like and aim for is the contrast between the dry aged wood and the satiny glow from the picture inside it.
Like stories told, there are all kinds of unexpected revelations that emerge in the narrative. You find out things from places and people you often least expect it from. They have been packed away in boxes for years.

gun again

just a short posting.
Mostly finished the two pieces I have been working on and have been doing a lot of glazing and over glazing...slow going.
There are so many things that rob one of time to paint.
Its interesting to me that my grandfather, Johannes B Wessels, had to sign a paper promising allegiance to the British Crown after the cessation of Boer War hostilities. In becoming a Canadian citizen I too had to pledge allegiance to the British Crown. After all these years!
The rifle barrel is the front end of the rifle trigger...the more business-like end of the tool. I have often wondered at whom it may have been pointed and if it ever found its mark. Sobering thought.
These pictures have had numerous layers of over glazes to develop the depth of darkness and colour I was striving for. Its slow going but it certainly does achieve results.
The other pieces I am working on are all in such an early phase that it seems pointless to show a bare piece of wood.

empty space

rather like waking from a coma, and not quite knowing where you are in space and time. Having just arrived back from installing my youngest son in university, a week of preparation and driving and making sure he is okay.
I walk back into the studio and feel like I have suffered a brief spell of amnesia, the pictures look familiar but I feel I need to re-establish my connection with them, slightly awkward.
Hoarknockle (Why did I want to call him Horseradish?) is away visiting his sick auntie (I suspect there is a comely niece or cousin once divided, erm I mean removed, who may be hovering there). This means that I am currently living a life devoid of ethanolic joys as I cannot seem to find the wine cellar. Lets call it amnesia.
This has allowed me a giant stride in my work. I have taken up the brush again, a heroic moment. Now if only I can remember what one does with it.
My eldest son has returned from hunting tigers...or whatever it is the young men do nowadays. He is thin as a rake and has an extraordinary preoccupation with bicycles and Belgium. He intends to go peddling in Tobago... not quite sure what he'll be peddling. As long as he isnt trying to sell off the cars..... or my wine collection. Oh correction... pedaling.
Here are the most recent iterations of my work too.
The large painting featuring Sir Cornelis is almost done.I added parts of a rifle to it The red phone is coming along and is part of something more. The Cuca refers to a Portugese beer "Cuca" which was sold in Angola and after which illegal drinking places were named during the South African Angolan war. I found the bottle cap during a sojourn in Angola.

trigger

times when one manages to complete things in a satisfactory way... one always seems to remember those breakthroughs rather than the long slog to get to the point where you decorate the whole things with a final cherry on the top.
The large piece with Sir Cornelis is getting closer to completion and I finished a smaller panel that will be added to the large piece, a very satisfactory moment.
This trigger is an actual rifle part from an old .303 rifle that came into my grandfather's possession toward the later part of the Boer War. There is quite a long story behind it. Its a wonderful metaphorical component to the image.
Positive, very positive.

artist?

just what do people imagine one to be when they discover that you are an artist? Is it registered as a kind of condition, much like being blonde or flat footed? Could it be that because there are so many people who claim to be artists that it has lost any kind of meaning? There are those who have bought a pad of paper and a set of pencil crayons and have the urge to draw.... but dont. They claim to be artists.
Its time they regulated this title. Not that many fakers claim to be doctors or space scientists.
It leaves me dumbfounded when people see my work and utter "I never realised you did that..." I make art...I paint...I am not sure what they imagined. If I were a wine maker...would people be surprised if I produced a bottle of wine?..."I would never have imagined that you ACTUALLY make wine...fancy that!"
I rest my case.
Meanwhile I have been making art. Much to everyone's surprise. I know.... "and for my next trick..."
Sir Cornelis continues...gets darker and partially disappears. There are other things happening to that piece you cannot see. Its a surprise. I am doing something using paint. Completely unexpected.
I also began work on a red telephone. It may cause people to lose consciousness when they find out. Please show it around responsibly.
Hoarknockle is back and I suspect that he may have become contaminated by liberal ideas from his visit to Lord Pfaff.
Lady Sandra is packing the Maybach in anticipation of sending our boy off to university.

where from?

where do ideas come from? I have no idea. Really. Thats why the relationship with the muses is so important. One does not want the muses to cut off your ideas. Ever.
Ive often worked on pieces which have not cooperated ... resisted my best efforts and seemed to have a mind of its own. And then, without warning something will happen...Ive seen this a lot... and I can tell when its happened, but never how to make it happen. An elusive thing it is. Its a thrilling feeling to suddenly see it come to life.
Here is a close up of part of the picture... its the image of Sir Cornelis fractured and inside small square spaces. Its still in process...but close enough for it to look like something.
The progress is positive.

insurrection and paint

A friend and fellow artist called me from one of the old colonies, the United States, in fact. He has been having some awful trouble with his servants who seem to have formed a union and refuse to work. Seems they are under the impression that they have rights of some kind!
I immediately got Hoarknockle to pack emergency relief supplies and commandeer his friend Alphonse Gorefinch to travel to the distant land and offer my help. They have packed cases of claret and some of my burgundy and a collection of fine hunting guns...my WW Greener matching pair as well.(I do hope they remembered to pack some foie gras for dear Kurt)

I havent heard back from them as yet. They set off a day or two ago in the Maybach.

Meanwhile I have been working like a trojan, doing everything myself. I have even discovered the kitchen, but did draw the line at making anything myself. I now have a scullery maid who waits on me.. she carries a small portable radio device from which I dispense orders for her to comply with. Not quite dear Hoarknockle...but she will do for now.

Here is some actual painting I managed to do. Its Great Grandfather, Sir Cornelis. (Lady Sandra says I look just like him..without the beard of course.)

crackle...etc etc

the studio is full of pieces in differing stages of work.
Bad paint flaked off a large panel and there was some swearing and scraping. New primer turned out to be a solvent based paint and is a reminder that spectacles should be worn when buying paint, even when the can is among others of the acrylic persuasion.
The image of crackled paint is something I did... its not actually old.
Household enamel paint is horrid stuff. I'm not perturbed by the solvent....it's due to consistency and stickyness and its unique ability to hold a static charge and flick off the brush and land in places its not wanted.
On the conceptual front there has been steady progress and ideas keep turning up and knocking on the door. Who knows where they come from? Right now I dont care, as long as they keep coming.
Its going well.
I quite like the look of the Diana Dors 1949 Type 175 S Delahaye going on the block soon. I am tempted. It would look quite lovely if it were covered in paisley design....Its such a beautiful car... Lady Sandra would just love it...I can see her in it, her blonde hair blowing in the wind....

lots of white

it takes time to layer on enough paint to approximate the kind of build up found on indoor surfaces that takes years and constant abuse. Old enamel paint used to drip and dribble and leave marks and then eventually dry to a glassy finish which cracked or splintered and chipped to reveal ghastly older colours beneath.
This is all part of the concept I am working on for my exhibition.
Imagine arriving in a different culture and trying to explain yourself. Even if you get the language right, you struggle to convey ideas because there are many small obstacles like words having subtle differences and accents which have all kinds of meaning inside them.
If you come from a different culture, even simple things dont necessarily hold the same meaning or value. The ability to use a verbal shorthand is lost because the whole construct of understanding is based on very different values and historical knowledge.
My work deals with the issues and obstacles of telling my history story. Every time I am in a situation where I need to explain or tell about who I am, I figuratively unpack all the boxes I travelled with. Sometimes the stories follow a different order and different things are emphasised and there are subtle differences in meaning from one occasion to the next. The configuration changes although the essential truth of it all remains the same...but the constant reconstruction of the larger story allows the nature of it to change.
My works revolve around this "telling of history story"
To show this I am working in and on boxes...painting objects which will go into boxes, painting onto actual boxes and special boxes which have been purpose built to show many ideas, but the panels obstruct each other. Other works will be built from collections of loose bits, rather like a quilt. (no...not a quilt!!) There will be repetition of imagery and sly trompe l'oeil trickery to add a confusing element.
Right now I am in the process of making and preparing the various objects and surfaces onto which I want to paint. The want to look old and used and I am going back to my recent career as scenic artist in film and TV to use techniques of breakdown and aging which will make everything look used and well travelled.
It is taking some time... be patient....Hoarknockle is trying his level best.

layers

the work before starting on the actual painting is less romantic and just requires a brush and paint applied to a surface to prepare the surface. This gives me time to reflect on the concepts and techniques I want to use and refine the imagery I have in my head.
As I sit here watching Hoarknockle scrape and paint the boxes and boards I will use, I can sip a beautiful wine and marvel at the tenacity of the human body as it works to paint and sand, a tedious and exhausting cycle of steps that will allow me to work on a velvety smooth substrate.
I am also using an old scenic painting trick of painting acrylic onto PVC plastic in layers and then peeling it off and then sticking it to a board or other surface... this gives the effect of thick old paint which can be peeled back or cracked and splintered off, giving wonderful textural effects. I also plan on using chips and sheets of this paint to draw on in silverpoint.
I havent really thought this whole thing through properly... now that Hoarknockle is painting, I have no one to minister to my demands for libationary sustenance....and I cant seem to remember any of the other servants names, how do I call for anyone?
I wonder if Lady Sandra knows?

...and once again...from the top...

back from the land of chocolate and wild yeast beers...and the famous Fabrique Nationale weapons factory! Yes Belgium.
Hoarknockle is holding me steady as I plunge recklessly into my HISTORY STORY project. (Although the title may change depending on my mood and whim)
The grant I received from the Saskatchewan Arts Board will allow me to work almost exclusively on this project which will deal with the notion that I have to explain my background to the people I get to know in the country I now call homeland. Because I was born on a different continent and have boxes full of real and metaphorical stuff to share and explain, my work will deal with the concept/metaphor of boxes and the contents.
The white boxes shown in the photo were custom made for this project and have all kinds of wonderful hidden, sliding panels on which I can paint. So far its all priming and getting them ready...quite a lot of preparation before one can get to the juicy stuff.
I now have red and white wine piped to taps in my studio, a large supply of cripplingly expensive cigars and a new collection of artistic cravats and berets to wear while I paint.
Lady Sandra is out tending to the poorly as she usually does. The boy wonders are individually either flying a kite or riding a bicycle very quickly.
Rather exhilarating!
Its about time for my snack of crepes and melted Belgian chocolate...

reflections

there is a lot of staring and pondering at times...and its not the kind of thing people should see. I mean.... its just the kind of thing that brings people to believe that artists stand around, doing nothing.
In spite of the problem, I do stand and squint at the work a lot...its my method.
This is the current state of the Snowbird painting.
To me, the reflection on the shiny skin of the plane is so seductive and the challenge of making a flat piece of canvas look like shiny metal is just too good to pass by.
The work is something of an abstract because its not immediately recognisable as a plane.It is a collection of colour planes (no not the aero-plane kind... this sounds too pun-like and not intended). Then hopefully it will lure the viewer in to look and see or be beguiled by the illusion of volume and reflection. In a perfect world it would.
Hoarknockle has been hard to work with...his simple mind sees nothing of this and his opinion has been of no use to me. He keeps asking when I am going to paint a nude. Suggesting that we call on Mr Gorefinch's niece to model. I see a pattern developing here. Fortunately for us both, Hoarknockle still possesses the ability to make tea and relieve my thirst with suitable libations.
This work is almost done... some last touches here and there after some intense staring.
Imagine a small plastic trumpet fanfare accompanying my announcement.
toot!

jet in abstract

My head is still ringing with jet sounds after going out to the local air force base to see the national display team, the Snowbirds, fly their official first display of the season.
They were great. I snapped hundreds of pictures. So far so good. I want to use the images for artworks.
I am currently working on a large painting, canvas stretched onto an old door. Normal size person door, not a Hollywood size portal.
I have taken an image from a photo and reduced it to something closer to abstraction than a pretty rendition of an aeroplane.A Snowbird display plane. It doest have any recognisable wings or engine...or pilot for that matter. What I am hoping to do it paint the sexy reflections on the highly polished paintwork and use the actual colours of the surfaces to take it to the edge of abstraction.
It involves some large scale brushwork and some fiddly smaller stuff...a good mix to prevent me from getting bored.

wrestling with children

I do believe this one is done.
I am always ever so careful when I wrestle with young children. They are delicate and one has to use small brushes and a lot of glaze to achieve a good likeness.
I know there are some portrait painters who achieve the finish by using bold and powerful marks...but I really cant do it. I find the faces of children to be composed of most delicate shading and shape. I admire those who can capture it in fresh quick strokes... but since this is my style and my work.... "Aah, tea, why thank you Hoarknockle!"
All this one requires is a last coat of preserving varnish.
I wanted this painting to reflect the personalities of the children and to give some idea of who they are and what they do.
Its been a demanding time, and I'm happy with the results.
Now on to some digital drawing.

forging it ahead

Awoken from slumbers after the weekend I see the portrait is as yet unfinished.
Hoarknockle has been taking it easy. He has been out tending to lady Sandra as she burns the oils all day and night in her efforts to assimilate a number of heavy and large textbooks. She is writing a large examination soon and it requires a huge quantity of information uploaded into her brain.
The servants are living the good life and I shall have to bring back the lash. Next thing they'll be wanting to be remunerated. Rats!
I shall have to drag myself away from the trout pond and life of leisure to complete this painting. I cant see it doing so by itself.
Never let it be said that I dont give my everything in my efforts to achieve perfection. For the greater good and all that!
Hmmmmm brushes..let's see...
"Hoarknockle! I require tea!"

love of excuses

It was Hoarknockle!
It was a horrible wind storm!
It wasn't me!
Okay..having got that off my chest and out of the way....
I am working on a portrait of two beautiful children. They are on the canvas together so that they wont be able to take it away from their adoring mother once they grow up and leave home. The mother reasons that if they were two separate portraits, it would be simple for them to take their child images and go. Now it seems they will have to fight one another for ownership or decide not to have a picture with their sibling on it too. I'll tell you the outcome of this in about 18 to 20 years.
I have tried to adopt a playful approach to this piece and keeping the brush marks free and loose and quick. They are children and fill of spontaneous actions and energies. The one is a small male person and the other is a female and I want to try and show some sibling connection as well as the difference in their styles.
So far so good. Alternating between glazes and big brushstrokes in strong colour.
I have forsaken the joys of fortified (reinforced?) beverages during the week in a vague hope that it might increase my ability to consume body fat. Thus Hoarknockle is plying me with tea rather than my usual libations.
Due to my use of acrylic paints, I have no recourse to sniffing solvents. 'Tis a hard life I tell you.