Seth Clark, a different approach to deteriorating architecture

Seth Clark works in the medium of collage, layering found papers as a base for other mixed mediums to create the finished result. Incorporating multiple art forms in one piece reflects an essence of his disjointed subject matter, derelict buildings. A sense of confusion and busyness is seen within the tumble down buildings and their scatterings of old wood and bricks. An overriding sense of neglect and abandonment is reflected in the lonely stand alone structures, both through the scruffy state of the buildings, and through the dark, sombre tones. Touches of bright colour flicker amidst the colour palette of dark greys, navy blues and tones of old wood. However, even these colours are aged and worn, amplifying the tired mood of the buildings.

While Clark shows the buildings as solitary, he also aims to create a mood of dignity and strength. They were once structures of solidarity and despite their ruined state, still remain standing; something that is emphasised by their isolated state on the canvas. In some pieces, such as ‘Pile VI’ and ‘Mass I’, the overall structure remains, despite the fact everything else about the building is entering disrepair. This juxtaposition between the ruined walls and windows and the building’s solid, geometrical framework suggests some sort of determination that Clark sees within the structures to maintain their existence. Clark appreciates the old and discarded, and evokes a sense of their belonging. The sense of place can also be seen in the ruins I photographed in Ireland, and this is something I want to be present in my own work.

Technically, Clark uses found papers to layer a unique and textured background. On top of this, he uses a variation of mixed media such as acrylic paint, charcoal and pencil to add definition to the buildings. The process of collage adds depth to the work, and suggests an almost 3D effect, bringing the buildings to life and making them feel present in the moment. Whole segments of old papers are used to represent a specific element, for example a piece of wood, adding to the realistic nature of the work. Clark works in a predominantly realistic way, however there are touches of exaggeration in the work, for example amplified dark tones or overly erratic and bold shapes. Clark appears to be suggesting the extraordinary in the structures that we see as commonplace through this delicate abstraction.

PILE VII

Ireland, my summer holiday

The Republic of Ireland, a country synonymous with quaint farms and idyllic country living, I place I have always longed to visit. However, when my parents proposed it as a summer holiday destination, I was somewhat uninspired. In contrast to the exotic and exciting choices of Egypt, Bora Bora, Venice make by a selection of my friends, it felt a little tame. Our small grey bricked cottage was in the middle of nowhere, twenty minutes from the closest village, and civillisation. As well as this, we were most likely to forgo the sun that we Brits crave when on holiday! It didn’t scream ‘romantic countryside getaway’ to me in the same way as it did to my parents. And no amount of my mother stating “It’ll be just like Wuthering Heights” could spark excitement.

However, as with lots of things, I was wrong to be unexcited. Upon waking up amidst the misty, rugged and close to untouched heart of Connemara National Parkland, I very soon changed my mind. I was breath taken by the view from the isolated track we drove down, surrounded by rolling hills wrapped in a vibrant, organic green that were so charmingly dotted with grey and white speckled rocks and the rare flash of purple from an occasional thistle. For miles, all I could see was the ragged earth enclosed by a sombre sky, laid out like a multilayered collage. I redefined uncultivated in my head. I was instantly taken back to the Romantic poetry of John Clare who dedicate his life to landscapes like these. Coming from the south east of England, places where you are able to feel apart of the natural world are few and far between, and I fell in love with the raw, unpicturesque landscape.

Whenever a house did spring up, it was entirely respectful of the environment it lay surrounded by, built within the peaks and troughs of the land. Ivy and long thin grass crawled up the sides of the houses as if to reclaim them, as almost every building in the area was built from the same grey stone found in the land.

Something Ireland is certainly not lacking is a broad collection of ruins in all forms, perfectly fitting in with my most recent A2 project for Textiles. Being a mark of history, culture and belonging, these tumbling down stones are hard not to admire. I found it a beautiful and atmospheric, unlike any other place I have visited. From now on, I think I’ll stick with the unconventional holiday.

Results Day (warning: high levels of melodrama)

Ever since I stepped out of my last exam a few months ago, the words ‘results day’ have consumed me. As a 17 year old girl, it is possibly one of the most terrifying things to be encountered. Knowing that everything comes down to one day; every late night revision session, every minute straining to understand what you need to know and quite frankly ever tear, will amount to a few letters on a computer screen. And these much anticipated letters will stick by you for the rest of your life, particularly if you want to continue on to university or apply for a job – they will define your success. 

In short, it’s a lot of pressure.

It’s not surprising that as the time draws nearer, doubt begins to creep in. Months of assumptions and attempts to second guess what your marker (most probably drowning in their sorrows of reading piece after piece of incomprehensible trash in wine by the time they get to your rendition) will make of your essay. You may also chose to further torture yourself by repeatedly racking your memory and going over what you vaguely remembered writing. Or one may op for an option more likely to destroy the soul, thinking about the effect your grades will have on your future. By this time, it is unsurprising the lack of confidence that inhabits your mind.

So when, on the very day that I have been viciously dreading, I receive the best news of my life, it is fair to say I am left in a state of shock. Not to mention hyperventilation. And there are tears too. It just would not sink in, I had done better than I had ever expected, while also fulfilling all my repressed desires that I thought to ridiculous to humour. But it goes to show that the not so occasional pessimism that I indulge in may not be the best way to go about things, and my god am I grateful for a boost of confidence. As clique as it may be, the hard work will pay off, maybe not immediately – my GCSE results are testament to that – but it will.

The work of Shizuko Kimura

As a textiles A-level student, writing a piece of artist research becomes a common task. I am interested and inspired by artists that I chose to investigate; currently, I am looking at the work of Shizuko Kimura. Initially training as a fine artist, Kimura later moved to the medium of stitch and textiles. Her work remains rooted in discipline of fine art, while exploring different techniques to capture the ‘drawings’.

Shizuko Kimura is renowned for her style of ‘illustrative stitch’. Possibly what endeared me most to her is the fact that she works directly from live models when using the human form as inspiration in a similar manner as a painter or sketcher might. This forces the pace of stitching to be fast; resulting in her capturing the essence of a person, not creating an exact replica. All textile pieces are done by hand stitch, meaning the finished product is delicate and intricate. In terms of materials, Kimura works on cotton and muslin, both natural materials that add an organic feel to the work, and a natural atmosphere to balance the erratic stitching. She creates a delicate and airy quality of line to outline the figures, and then introduces a heavier stitch when shading and drawing attention to a specific area. The fabrics are rarely dyed, allowing the soft greys and blacks of the thread to be fully appreciated; in fact the majority of Kimura’s colour palette is muted, incorporating mostly greys, blacks and creamy whites. It appears that colour is used only in moderation and often to emphasise a particular area or subject.

Technically, Kimura uses hand stitch in a natural, unrefined and raw way. As the stitches are originally done in timed conditions, her aim is not to accurately recreate the exact shapes of the human form, but to capture whatever mood surrounds the form. She surrounds the figures in a strong sense of sensitivity; the delicacy of stitching creates a sense of vulnerability around the naked women, but also a beauty by capturing a raw, unedited moment. I feel a strong sense of fragility and purity that leads me into the pieces, as well as leaving me with a longing to know about the women she draws.