A Question of Identity Part Two

It has been exhaustingly silent on the Inky Leaf radio frequency this Easter but I can conciliate that it has been busy in my head (when is it ever not?!). As such, I have a lot to write about, but irritatingly, I can't seem to organise my thoughts and theories coherently into a blog post. I have been milling about everything for a number of days and well today I just decided I am going to have to bite the bullet and go straight in.

Parades in Granada during Semana Santa

So... where was I? Oh yes, last week I put Darth vader to one side as I just can't seem to conquer him right now and picked up my 'propaganda posters', which I also didn't finish. They are now currently all pegged on a washing line across my studio, staring at me accusingly. My back is to them when I paint. It's slightly un-nerving turning my back on eight versions of myself, but they all look so devoted to the cause that it's even more unnerving to look straight at them. The consequence of this is they are encouraging me to paint even when I am not in the mood. 

Wisteria which has just burst into flower right outside my window

So I began another load of work, this time for the RHS. I really want to submit some work to the Picture Committee this year. I have fannied around for long enough and I need something to focus on. I am therefore painting a huge Artichoke Leaf and a Wisteria. I am enjoying the leaf (quelle surprise). This was idea that popped into my head in October when I moved here and thankfully I have now found a window to get on with it. 

Artichoke Field just around the corner from our house

So yes, I was rather happily getting on with the leaf and then I entered another shadow phase and ever since then I have literally jumping in and out of the shade. I didn't want to mull around all week being idle - I have to get on with it, so I picked up a board and painted myself again. I suddenly found I was able to paint, even though I couldn't paint the leaf and this situation intrigued me. I found the entire process of doing a self portrait incredibly therapeutic and started to think back to the posters and then to all self portraits in general. I wondered if Van Gogh painted himself to deal with his black dog and then remembered Frida Kahlo and all of her paintings - the emotion, the turmoil. So to conclude this account, whilst watching a crucified Jesus being carried along the streets with men and women dressed in black dripping candle wax all over the floor, I have moved on from plants to people. 

Easter Sunday, the dress changes from black to white. These chaps with the pointy hats are called penitentes - they  are those who are doing penance for their sins. They wear the pointed hats to hide their identity.

Philosophy of the Self Portrait

So I ask myself - why am I painting myself? I hate myself. I suffer from a crippling low self esteem and I can't think of anything worse that to look at myself in depth. I realise though, that the answer is really quite simple - it is a question of existence. It's the spirit trying to show a body that it exists. Personally, for me, I get the feeling that this is a very serious stage in my development as both a human being and an artist, so I have to nurture it and give it the attention it needs. I can't turn my back on this requirement. I need to look at myself and draw a representation, whether it be true or fanciful. Maybe its all about finding myself so that I can do the other botanical works that my head wants to do. Maybe this is all part of the journey and I can't cross to the far shore until I have done this excruciating work on myself.

Popular trees just starting to come out into leaf at the beginning of last week

It is true to say that I have never taken any form of portraiture seriously, I always preferred Vincent's landscapes to his portraits, but that was because I was ignorant and I didn't grasp their true importance, or maybe I did understand them, but the ego rebelled. Now though, I feel understand... Whilst also healing themselves, artists such as Vincent and Frida used their own emotions, (rather than avoiding them), to make something which remains to be of useful to all of us. By representing their inner and outer selves and meticulously documenting the facets of their existence, they are able to communicate to the masses via an empathetic state which is beyond their physical being. To analyse oneself so thoroughly is deeply enlightening and, from what they have left behind in the material world, these artists continue to challenge our perceptions of reality and question where our identity lies.

Selfie - a work in progress

Regardless how much we try to change our appearance, we are trapped within our selves as our identity lies beyond the physical. Using art is an extension of our physical existence, I believe that we can travel time and space. We can project an idea, a moment, a feeling into the future and we can also review the past. I consider this to be an incredibly powerful tool. The self portrait therefore not only heals and reveals, it also communicates. Despite being a material object, it is almost as if the document were living and breathing. It's us, but with a superpower - as it also has the ability to travel beyond on another plane and enter worlds that are so very different to our own.   

So, with that in mind I feel I have to continue on the path of self portraiture. It's frustrating, as it wasn't what I wanted to do with my time, but I trust that the urge to look at myself in this way has occurred for a reason, and for that I have to embrace it with open arms and dive straight in.

Paul Klein on How to Succeed as an Artist

Macoto Murayama's Talk July 2014

 

Introducing the extraordinary Macoto Murayama©

So I went to Macoto's talk this week and what a joy it was. Firstly, the Japan Foundation was a superb space and all of the speakers and directors made us feel so very welcome, providing us all with refreshments which is always a nice thing. Secondly, it was an awesome experience because Macoto delivered the entire lecture in Japanese (thankfully there was a translator on hand). I was really pleased that he did this as not only did it make him feel more comfortable, but also because I believe you can tell a lot about a culture and the thought processes associated with it when you listen to it's language. Even though I had no idea what he was saying, one could note the pauses and changes in rate and expression. I noticed that Japanese seemed to be more efficient as a language - less words were said than the translation - and I wondered if that sort of efficiency gets translated into other aspects of life, such as in their art work.

Photos from Frantic Gallery. Work by Macoto Murayama (on Pinterest)

The talk was a beautiful introduction to his work and the methods he uses when creating. The presentation was later followed by a conversational piece between Macoto, Lucy Smith and Nathan Cohen. I particularly enjoyed this element of the discussion and wished it lasted longer. I had several questions that I really wanted to ask, but we sadly ran out of time. The questions I had saved were rather different to eatchother - one was far more basic and certainly less philosophical than the other. Firstly, I wanted to know how Macoto chose the plants that he used in his Botech Compositions (where several plants are used to make an elaborate pattern - see picture below (a couple down)). Looking at the designs, there is no reference to taxonomy or shape, but maybe geography was the key? Or maybe the patterns represented something more journalistic, possibly depicting plants collected on a single afternoon of field work? Who knows?! However - I would like to know as I think this sort of thing is really interesting as it descirbes the thought process and influences one's interpretation.

I also wanted to ask Macoto (and Lucy) if they think it is important to include a level of emotion in their work. At the start of Macoto's talk, he mentioned that he worked in a florist shop in Japan between the academic years of study, so that he could learn more about the relationship that exists between human beings and plants/flowers. Further to this, he also highlighted the groundbreaking moment when he first saw what was inside a flower - how bold over he was and that his first impulse was to share what he saw to the masses. He wanted everyone to see the beauty hidden in plants. Lucy appeared to empathise with this feeling (as do I and probably most botanists and illustrators). There certainly is something truly remarkable about the complexity, wonder and beauty hidden at the microscopic level of an organism that so commonly goes unnoticed. 

Botech Art by Macoto Murayama©

Therefore, from what Macoto is describing, one can deduce that there is most definitely an emotional and communicative aspect in his work. However, I very quickly noticed a contradiction which was introduced at the start of this debate and it was this that I wanted to highlight and bring to the table. When discussing the artists that had influenced his work – Georgia O’Keefe, Ernst Haeckel and Karl Blossfeldt, Macoto said that it was Karl's work that he resonated with the most because he was drawn to the distance captured in each black and white photograph. He liked the clinical nature of Blossfeldt's work, the emptiness, stillness and lifelessness reflected in every piece. I feel that in the majority of work that both Macoto and Lucy produce today, this stillness is also very much present. However, why produce work that is so reserved, detached and quantifiable if what made you want to make it in the first place were the irrational feelings of excitement, ecstasy, awe and sheer wonder?

Botech Compostion by Macoto Murayama©

Lucy's scientific works are mostly black and white and drawn in pen and ink. Macoto's "Botech Art" and "Floral Diagrams" are very mathematical, logical and, like Lucy’s work, linear. There is nothing irrational about them; they are to the book accurate and motionless. I wanted to know how they felt about this and if they thought as illustrators, if it is possible to engage the populace using such heavily structured illustrative works or, if they felt that this where botanical art comes into play. 

Botanical Diagrams by Macoto Murayama

Is botanical illustration able to engage people from all backgrounds, or is botanical art, with its many applications, media and forms, better equipped at tackling this dilemma? I wanted to know if Macoto felt that his compositional work (second above), which features ideas behind symmetry and pattern (these are the ones that look like rug patterns), has been better received across the board than the more quantitative works. Or are people intrigued by the more numeral pieces and if so, why? Do people prefer less emotive works? Are less expressive works easier to observe because there is nothing beyond the shapes and lines to interpret (there is nothing overly challenging). Along this line of thought, I also really wanted to know if he was conducting evaluations of his exhibitions as this is something that I very strongly about. Personally, I feel that it is incredibly necessary to know how one's work is received - it gives purpose and direction.

I was disappointed that I didn’t get to ask Macoto and Lucy their thoughts on the different  channels of visual description and communication, but then it was probably just as well as we might have been there all night debating it, and it might have blown the interpreter's mind! I might have to ask Lucy one day if I see her again - I'd be intrigued to know her thoughts. Obviously her more scientific works are of use to many people under the umbrella of environmental research, but I wonder how she feels about showing her work to those beyond this sphere of enterprise and if she feels that she would need to change her style in order for it to be more noticed by these other spheres and cultures? Basically I suppose I am asking if the work needs to become more emotional, expressive and arousing whilst also being accurate in order to be noticed and send a message?

I am glad that I have been able to highlight these thoughts online. I think this is something that we all need to consider. I myself don’t have any answers, but would be delighted to know your thoughts on how successful ‘clinical’ illustration is (as opposed to the more arty forms of botanical art) in encouraging people to become more familiar with the beauty, elegance and complexity present in plants.