I'm not exactly good at painting, but I do love to mess about with colours. These painted splodges are going to end up stuck in a junk journal.
But my flowery messes aren't the main point of today's blog post. I mooched into the city centre on Wednesday for another of my monthly Stitch Art classes. This time we headed out of the art gallery and into the sculpture gallery next door. It wasn't a building I'd been in before, but I will definitely visit again as it's a lovely space. We had a chance to visit the archives, and in particular to concentrate on the work of a sculptor called Roger Ackling. I confess I'd never heard of him before, but we had a talk from an archivist about his method of working and what inspired his art. The current exhibition of his work is entitled 'Sunlight' and I'll quote from the printed guide:
'For forty years Ackling made objects by burning wood, focusing sunlight through the lens of a hand-held magnifying glass to scorch repeated patterns of lines on the surface. Collecting his material from the margins - driftwood, reclaimed broken or discarded materials - Ackling took little from the world to make his work and left nothing beyond a wisp of smoke in the air.'
After his death in 2014, Ackling's wife passed boxes full of his papers to the archives, and we were able to look at several of his notebooks and various photographs.
There's something very appealing about leafing through these books with their scribbles and drawings, their random contents and folded pieces of paper tucked between the pages.
I love this bit of John Menzies packaging.
These small, densely written books made me think about the drawer full of old diaries I've got stashed away. I'm reluctant to throw them out because of all the memories they contain, but who'd want them after my death? It makes you wonder about the possessions that we keep and value, and how those possessions are seen by the relatives who'll inherit them. Inheritances are often talked about in terms of houses or bank balances, but relatives inherit the everyday possessions too. The bedsheets and duvet, crockery, cushions, our taste in books and pictures on the walls, the houseplants and saucepans. Did Roger Ackling hang on to these books for sentimental reasons? Or didn't he consider what'd happen to them after his death? Or perhaps he'd expected them to end up in an archive? Who knows.
Anyway, after our talk from the archivist we went into the gallery to look at 'Sunlight', armed with pencils and paper to sketch ideas for interpreting the work in stitches. It was a Stitch Art session after all.
These pieces certainly lend themselves to being interpreted in fabric and thread.
I think this (photo above) is one of my favourites. The contrast with the off white and the weathered wooden board. There's something very pleasing about that.
This vivid tomato red is a vibrant contrast to the dark scorched wood.
I sketched and took more photos.
These prints could easily be turned into textile designs.
These objects are fun. They include a dolly peg and a fork!
I'm thinking of couched thread and French knots for a stitched version of the artwork above.
Roger Ackling must've had the most extraordinary levels of patience when you remember that all these scorched lines were made by him holding a glass lens over the wood and letting the sun's rays burn patterns into it. He must've gone into an almost meditative state to do this with such precision.
After we'd gathered our thoughts and ideas, we sat down with strips of calico and embroidery thread for an hour's sewing. As usual I didn't get a massive amount done in the time, but am happy to carry on at home.
This morning, I machine-sewed my calico on to a length of cotton, doing a zig zag around the edges. Partly to stop the edges fraying but also to allow me to get my calico into a hoop. My design's still in the early stages, but I'll work on it this week, trying to represent Ackling's scorched lines with backstitch and stacked running stitch.
If you're in Leeds, I'd recommend a visit to the Henry Moore Institute, situated next to the art gallery on The Headrow. If you're not in this neighbourhood, maybe look up Roger Ackling online instead? I won't recommend that you have a go at burning into wood with a lens and the power of the sun though. Don't want to start any fires!
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