Blog Hop and Where on Earth Have I Been?????

 Oh my and heavens above etc etc is it really nearly 18 months since I last blogged?  I'm surprised the world hasn't stopped turning on its axis.

Anyway, perhaps in a subtle move to spur me on to get going again, the lovely Chrissie Freeth, handloom weaver, blogger and all-round Extraordinary Woman, has nominated me to take part in the blog hop.  You can see her post here.  And if you haven't yet checked out her work then please do - I love the rich colours of her dyed wools and the beautifully eloquent yet down to earth way she talks about her inspiration and working practices.  She does have an irrational aversion to the colour blue though, so be warned.

So, the blog hop......basically artists and makers answering the same 4 questions and nominating two further people to do the same the next week.  I accepted Chrissie's nomination because I thought it was about time I gathered my thoughts, having had my head down constantly since April, making work for the new galleries I'm stocking.  It's 2 days late, so you must forgive me.  I hate the stereotype of the scatterbrained creative type (hmmm, future subject....) as most of us are pretty organised (as you have to be to run your own business), and I'm usually glued to my organiser, but something may have come unstuck over the last few days...Apologies if it's a stream of consciousness, but 'it's been a year'*.

What am I working on?

As I mentioned above, I've been very production-orientated for the last few months, since getting some interest from galleries at the British Craft Trade Fair in April.  So invention has gone to the wall rather in favour of producing stock designs which I know I can make in a reasonably profitable way, and are popular - my bread and butter.  However, I'm unable to resist playing around with shapes and colours so, for example, my Lunar range, which started with 9 designs (which fitted nicely in a 3x3 square in my brochure) now has 19 items in it.  

The Craft & Design Gallery in Leeds had spotted my metallic pictures on my website and asked for some of them for their Christmas exhibition, 'which was nice'** This was very flattering, as they weren't something I'd really gone out of my way to market - they tend to just evolve and I regard making them almost as a luxury. It did make me knuckle down to produce some finished framed versions which I was really pleased with.  They are the logical conclusion to the work I've been doing combining jewellery and printmaking techniques and I plan to develop these further 'when I get the chance'***, perhaps with some more photographic elements incorporated into them.

How does my work differ from others of its genre?

My Mum's always saying she likes shiny jewellery, and mine is definitely not shiny.  I recently helped out at a pop-up shop where my work was on display, and it was most illuminating to hear peoples' comments about my work when they didn't realise the maker was listening in.  Thankfully, most of the comments (and one I get often to my face) was that my work was unlike anything else you tend to see around, but there was also some puzzlement as to the nature of the metal it's made out of.  A lot of people tend to think it's pewter, which I don't really mind as I love pewter, but I think that contributes towards the darkness and subtlety of some of the colours & textures, contrasted with a bit of shiny-shiny. 

There's quite a painterly aspect to some of my work, both in the abstract landscapes and the enamelled pieces, which isnt surprising given the printmaking I suppose.  The fact that I love to work on a flat plane contributes to this too - I'm working towards making this even more of a feature and defining my pictorial style a bit more.  There's so much more to be done!

Why do I do what I do?

Ever since I used to frequent Camden Market in my teens, I've wanted to be a jeweller.  I wanted to be one of those cool people who lived on a barge with dreadlocks and ate felafel with fingerless gloves.  Now I think it would be a bit too cold, but I still love what I do.  I love the fact that if I fancy making something, I can make it, and then as an added bonus which I still don't quite believe, people actually like it.

When I did a painting and drawing evening class we dabbled in printmaking and straight away my tutor said I was a printmaker (maybe that was a tactful way of telling me I wasn't a painter or drawer but I liked the sound of it).  In jewellery-making, no matter how spontaneous you try to be, you're constrained to some extent by the fact that you're making something which has to be worn on the body, not fall to bits or fall off, or be uncomfortable, and will make the person wearing it feel good.  It's been a subject of some debate in my circles, but I remain to be convinced by some creations that are beloved of the Crafts Council world but fail in my books to qualify as jewellery...anyway, back to the point......yes, printmaking is far less limited by these factors, and the joy (and sometimes pain) of peeling back the paper to see what has printed will never leave me.

Experimental monoprints

The unpredictability of the processes I use, combined with the possibilities, and combination of possibilities, and sticking one possibility on top of another and then cutting it out and sticking it somewhere else, are sources of endless inspiration.  I try to translate this as much as possible into the jewellery, to the extent that when I put together a new landscape piece, I always have to take a photo as I can't believe my luck and that I'll ever be able to replicate it. 

Metal Landscape Picture

 How does my process work? 

Somewhat haphazardly.  I very rarely now sketch out a design unless it's for a commission to give the client some idea of what I'm thinking of, though I gaze in wonder & envy at the beautiful sketchbooks of my friends.  It's more a case of fitting together a jigsaw of bits and pieces I like the look of as I go along.  I do make notes of enamel colours I've used, as they can change so much during the firing it's impossible to tell in retrospect.  

Drypoint on an etching plate

The starting point is etching the metal using traditional printmaking resisit & techniques to control the access of the acid to the metal.  This could include brushing the resist, stencilling, scratching into it, masking off.  I often do this in large expanses which are then cut down as I find trying to limit myself to a certain size cramps & contains the movement of the lines and textures.  I then cut out shapes to overlay onto other shapes, whatever seems to work.  Quite often there'll be a happy accident where I just put something down on top of something else in the workshop and it looks great.  Then it's soldered together, selectively polished to acheive aforementioned contrast, and finally patinated with a stinky old mixture of liver of sulphur and ammonia.  Sadly, although this produces astonishingly beautiful colours of sepia and turquoise, they don't last when lacquered to protect it, though some little protected areas tend to shine through. The general effect is to add dark areas in further contrast to the shiny bits.

A Happy Accident

I use so many processes in printmaking that to describe it would take far too long, so have concentrated on the jewellery, but the same haphazard approach applies. (If interested in some of the printmaking techniques see previous blogs). 

So them's my questions - I have nominated Naomi Southon of nimanoma's blog.  I think we have a similar approach in terms of using art pieces as inspiration for, and basis of, jewellery. Naomi has a far more scientific approach through her background in biology, and an endless fascination with the minutiae of nature which results in the most stunningly detailed and coloured pieces.

My other nominee is an as yet unnanounced surprise....


*    Time Gentleman Please 2000-2002
**   The Fast Show, 1994-2000
***  Any craftsperson or artist, ever.