Tucked away in the corner, discretely positioned between animal studies and an open door I’m privy to all the comings and goings in the main art teaching and studio space. The strangeness of the new environment is intensified by the compulsory mask wearing and social distancing which no doubt makes more difficult to enmesh myself in the new environment.
First impressions, Welcoming!
There was even a handmade welcome sign painted in my new ‘studio space’, overwhelmingly I have found all the staff and those students brave enough to speak have been amazingly supportive and accommodating, nothing is too difficult. John (the principle) met me in in the car park when I first arrived and gave me whirlwind lay of the land tour, introducing me to the office & library staff then handed over to the art department – it’s obvious his passion and nurturing nature is key to the caring atmosphere of the school.
The art department – wow what a vibrant hub – the staff bring a wealth of experience to the table, all specialists in their own field… (makes me wonder what I can bring to the table) although their days are full, its fun - spinning multiple wheels yet maintaining a personable non rushed presence for whoever is in the space.
For the first three days I have simply settled in, unpacking, and setting up. I had a grant application closing midnight on Monday, so that was my first agenda - to send that off. Then I was able to focus, setting up the first large canvas which is an exploration into the hidden colours of B&W. This has proven a little problematic with the open windows the light keeps shifting so it’s hard to judge the tonal shifts. Shifting scale from the ChromaCorona charts in the books to a 180x72cm canvas with 15x8cm squares. The first row is always the hardest, laying down the tonal shifts which will be the template for the complete work. Unlike the original test canvas, I thought I would lay down mock blanks only - these are blacks that are mixed from two to three different colours. For example the first row is a mix of French Ultramarine & Burnt Sienna. What I am finding now 6 rows in, when I mix the pigments, I have rich dark black, but as I work on tonal gradients the colour within the black becomes more prominent, each row with a different nuance. I’m considering whether I should inter-disperse rows of pre-mixed black like Mars Black and Lamp black etc, to emphasise the variants found even in these pigments, although they will sit a lot flatter. I need to think about that.
This week has also allowed me to passively see the classes that are run in the space, so I can get a feel for what they are focusing on and how I can possibly enhance that experience. Fortunate for me the focus for the next season is painting, so I’m thrilled its not to out of my comfort zone.
I haven’t explored much outside of the art department yet as I wanted to get an overview of its rhythm. I did however venture out for a walk besides the river in Don reserve towards the Aquatic centre. The first thing that stuck me after the energy of classrooms was the stillness, then the smell, the sweetness of the tea trees and the sounds of the Superb fairywren darting around only to be eclipsed by the screeching of the Yellow-tailed Black -Cockatoo. The tea trees have this transformative presence where you can indulge in the solitude but feel embraced and not truly alone, each turn noticing different patterns and dancing of the light. I only walked for about an hour, enjoying the softness of the sawdust paths contrasted to the concrete floor of the studio. You could be forgiven for thinking the forest is entirely monochromatic, as tonal shifts and the contrast of light and shade is more prominent than colour but then there are these random flashes of yellow jolting you back to the reality that this is a ‘managed’ space. Perhaps I was somewhat melancholy as I was walking, the start of my time away from home also coincided with the invasion of Ukraine by Russia, which has weighed deeply on my heart, likewise the east coast of NSW and vast regions of QLD are facing devastating floods… and I have family and friends in some of the hard-hit areas, so my focus has been suspended, in silent hope for peace to prevail. I will need to revisit and think about these junctures, these interruptions to the landscape, signposts of the present.
