Lightfoot's Hackney Project

Agata Chalks on paper, 23 x 32 cm

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 17:25:00 +0100

Agata

Chalks on paper, 23 x 32 cm

Tinatin Shaburishvili Oil on canvas, 40 x 30 cm

Mon, 03 Jun 2013 01:24:06 +0100

Tinatin Shaburishvili

Oil on canvas, 40 x 30 cm

What is Painting?

Mon, 03 Jun 2013 01:14:00 +0100

I have tired of reading a great deal about art. I always have lots of art books piled up about the place, but generally, although I read bits and pieces from them, I mostly just look at the pictures. After all, Munch, or Titian or whoever it was painted pictures; if some chap comes along well after Mr Munch or whoever it is has died and writes all about him, then I hardly see why one necessarily needs to read what they have written really; surely the important thing is always going to be what Mr Munch himself put out there for us to look at! The paintings, of course! After all, one does not feel that one must always read in depth discussions of the lives of film-makers or musicians in order to ‘get’ their work, and to properly appreciate it, so why is that considered to be so necessary by so many when it comes to properly appreciating the work of painters?

Now I have read plenty about art in the past, and don’t regret having done so; it’s just that right now, the painting is the thing; the painting itself, either looking at other peoples paintings, or painting my own. There are not endless hours available, so one needs to prioritise. Don’t get me wrong; were I to know that I would live a few hundred years then I would read far more, but life is short, and art is long- it takes a long time to get anywhere with it- so one simply must get ones priorities right if one is going to get anywhere as a painter, especially if one cannot paint fulltime…

I don’t mean to say that I don’t read; in fact I read all sorts of things; just not a great deal art at the moment. Yet it’s potent stuff, reading; one ought to always be aware of that. A long, long time ago I read somewhere that the bob haircut was originally conceived of as imitation of a helmet; like a racing car helmet or some such. It is all to do with early twentieth century excitement about modernism and all tall the new inventions coming in, such as cars and aeroplanes, were considered sexy enough that ladies got their hair cut in imitation of what one would when driving one of these things. So now, although I’m crazy about the swing dancing scene, and still think a girl can look lovely with a bob haircut, thanks to that little thing I read somewhere about what first inspired them, I can’t ever look at them as an abstract form, but rather, I see a girl with a bob haircut, and I think; ‘helmet’, which is not necessarily what you want to think about when you see a pretty girl with a nice bob haircut…

So one needs to be a little careful with what one reads, I would say; whilst I’m all for reading a lot, I would consider that it’s entirely reasonable to be somewhat weary of reading a great deal about art, as an artist, as one may be really rolling with a certain creative endeavour, and simply not want to be to distracted from it by something one happens to read; certainly one simply may not want to endlessly second guess oneself and what one is doing; something people studying art at uni (or even those long out of it, yet still toeing the uni-party line on their philosophies of art) seem to be rather good at doing…

But it’s PAINTING damn it! It’s NOT WORDS, when all is said and done ‘Ceci n’est pas une pipe!’ (Well you would have to have read a bit about art to know what that quote is all about, but not a vast amount; and you can of course always google it; though that goes without saying I suppose…)

Yes, words are powerful; they cast spells on us; so careful what you read I say. You can read either too much about art or you can read not enough, yet if one is to really paint or draw well, then I would suggest that frequently the former of these too hazards to ones progress is more likely these days, where artists seem to be expected to discuss and think about their work through the prism of an endless succession of fashionable philosophies and theories. But there are no words in painting, and no words in looking at and understanding painting; not deep down. One needs to have lived a little, read a bit here and there about art- yes indeed- but not necessarily a vast amount, and one needs to have a little passion, and open oneself to a good painting… allow the painting to permeate one’s entire consciousness for a while, and one needs to slow down, and look and give it the time it needs, and be patient, and quiet, and let the thing speak top one without words…

So, having said all of that, I’m now going to apparently perhaps contradict myself (I quite like a good contradiction though, so it’s fine by me) and I now must recommend a book- one book- about painting to both painters and those who care deeply about painting, that I came upon again recently and which seems to actually back up my feelings very well indeed. It is no surprise that Mr Elkin’s paints as well as writes, yet he also knows a great deal about alchemy, and goes on to use alchemical ideas to very effectively discuss painting. But for now I am simply going to offer up an excerpt from the introduction to his book here- as much to remind myself of how inspiring it is as much as anything else. I’m going to type it out and I shall let it speak for itself, as I think I’ve said quite enough myself for the time being already:

‘A historian looking at this painting might recognize Sassetta, a fourteenth-century painter from Siena. Sassetta is known to art history as a late medieval artist who slowly adjusted his work to the emerging sensibility of the Florentine Renaissance. He knew about the important new works that were being made in Florence, and there are echoes and hints of them in his paintings, though in the end he remained faithful to the conservative ways. We know little about his life, and about his patrons and commissions; and we can guess at his friends, and the places he visited. Pictures can have many meanings of those kinds, and art history is a rich and complex field. But a painting is a painting, and not words describing the place it was made or the people who commissioned it. A painting is made of paint- of fluids and stone- and paint has it’s own logic, and it’s own meanings even before it is shaped into the shape of a Madonna. To an artist, a picture is both a sum of ideas and a blurry memory of “pushing paint,” breathing fumes, dripping oil and wiping brushes, smearing and diluting and mixing. Bleary preverbal thoughts are intermixed with the nameable concepts, figures and forms that are being represented. The material memories are not usually part of what is said about a picture, and that is a fault in interpretation because every painting captures a certain resistance to paint, a prodding gesture of the brush, a speed and insistence in the face of mindless matter: and it does so at the same moment, and in the same thought, as it captures the expression of a face.’

From ‘What Painting Is’ by James Elkins

Hayley at Passing Clouds (with Permanant Magenta glaze) Oil on...

Wed, 22 May 2013 18:59:00 +0100

Hayley at Passing Clouds (with Permanant Magenta glaze)

Oil on canvas, 41 x 33 cm

Hayley at Passing Clouds Oil on canvas, 41 x 33 cm

Fri, 15 Mar 2013 12:28:00 +0000

Hayley at Passing Clouds

Oil on canvas, 41 x 33 cm

At the bar Oil on canvas, 40 x 50 cm

Mon, 04 Feb 2013 19:23:00 +0000

At the bar

Oil on canvas, 40 x 50 cm

Manor road in the snow Oil on canvas, 25 x 30 cm

Fri, 01 Feb 2013 18:05:00 +0000

Manor road in the snow

Oil on canvas, 25 x 30 cm

Another overcast day Oil on canvas, 40 x 50 cm

Thu, 14 Jun 2012 17:19:00 +0100

Another overcast day

Oil on canvas, 40 x 50 cm

Second-hand bookshop Oil on canvas, 33 x 41 cm

Fri, 18 May 2012 13:42:00 +0100

Second-hand bookshop

Oil on canvas, 33 x 41 cm

Saturday Afternoon Oil on canvas, 41 x 46 cm

Wed, 02 May 2012 10:25:00 +0100

Saturday Afternoon

Oil on canvas, 41 x 46 cm

Manor Road, Stoke Newington, early spring 2012 Oil on canvas,...

Fri, 27 Apr 2012 12:08:00 +0100

Manor Road, Stoke Newington, early spring 2012

Oil on canvas, 33 x 41 cm

Stamford Hill Jews Oil on canvas, 25 x 30 cm

Sat, 21 Apr 2012 14:54:00 +0100

Stamford Hill Jews

Oil on canvas, 25 x 30 cm

Regarding Baudelaire’s ‘The Painter of Modern Life’

Sat, 21 Apr 2012 14:39:00 +0100

I was discussing this project with a friend recently and he asked me if I had ever read Charles Baudelaire’s essay ‘The Painter of Modern Life’. Though Baudelaire’s book of poems ‘Les Fleurs de Mal’ (‘The Flowers of Evil’) had had a profound effect on me as a teenager (and on my partly symbolist inspired painting that was beginning to evolve at that time), and though I had long known that he was highly regarded as an important 19^th century writer on art, I realised that I had never got around to reading much more of his work than his poems.

My friend was quite insistent that I should read the essay and so he kindly sent me a copy and now I am very glad that he did. ‘The Painter of Modern Life’ was indeed an inspiration to me and a spur to some of my deepest intentions with this project.

On the third page of the essay, this part struck me deeply and stayed with me:

‘Beauty is made up of an eternal, invariable element, whose quantity it is excessively difficult to determine, and of a relative, circumstantial element, which will be, if you like, whether severally or all at once, the age, it’s fashions, it’s morals, it’s emotions. Without this second element, which might be described as the amusing, enticing, appetising icing on the divine cake, the first element, would be beyond our powers of digestion or appreciation, neither adapted nor suitable to human nature. I defy anyone to point to a single scrap of beauty which does not contain these two elements.’

How wonderfully different an approach to apprehending art than is fashionable today Baudelaire has and yet how wonderously true his words chime, as to what is still so important in much good painting, in my experience at least.

I would like to read over the essay again and quote more from it for this post; perhaps even take the time to craft into the right words some of the delicate yet stirring thoughts and emotions that it provokes in me. But then I stop myself. Is Saturday afternoon to be spent writing, or painting?

My housemate is out and so the flat is quiet. The light today is especially good and a specially primed canvas rests on my easel. I have carefully collected and prepared the necessary reference material and have my rough design for the picture established. Although I am tempted to simply pick up a brush and begin painting, I have decided in the case of this new picture to make a more precise preliminary drawing than I have been making of late, which will then be transferred methodically to the canvas. But this should only take an hour or two, maybe three. If I make a start now then there may even be daylight enough left at the end of the afternoon and into the early evening for me to mix a few colours and make a start on the best part, of both the making of pictures and indeed of living itself; painting.

At the bar Oil on canvas, 25.5 x 20 cm

Fri, 20 Apr 2012 19:09:00 +0100

At the bar

Oil on canvas, 25.5 x 20 cm

Dalston Kingsland Oil on canvas, 25 x 30 cm

Wed, 11 Apr 2012 12:04:00 +0100

Dalston Kingsland

Oil on canvas, 25 x 30 cm

Going home Oil on canvas, 41 x 33 cm

Wed, 21 Mar 2012 12:01:00 +0000

Going home

Oil on canvas, 41 x 33 cm

At the Macbeth, Shoreditch Oil on canvas, 35.5 x 25.3 cm I...

Tue, 20 Mar 2012 16:25:00 +0000

At the Macbeth, Shoreditch

Oil on canvas, 35.5 x 25.3 cm

I think that this picture is at last pretty much finished.

I may work on the faces a tiny bit more, but I shall leave it alone for a good while first.

Painting largely from memory whilst still trying to achieve a certain degree of realism I found very nerve wracking. Trying to work out the lighting, in particular, was especially tricky; different coloured lights coming from all sorts of different places! But for now, at least, it feels finished, and I am actually quite happy with it…

Last night I changed the basic composition of the picture...

Tue, 13 Mar 2012 14:29:00 +0000

Last night I changed the basic composition of the picture again.

At first, I found myself needing to take it back to how it had been initially. Sometimes, that’s the way it goes. This move was an improvement, but something was still needed. At first I was completely stumped, and annoyed that it didn’t seem to be working! Then I suddenly realised that I had to let go of my attachment to the initial sketches I was making use of if that was what was necessary; the hand on the hip of the figure on the far right, which I had found such a nice shape in the original sketch, was not serving the painting as a whole; so I changed the position of the arm and then suddenly the eye could flow around the picture far more easily. The eye had been sort of getting stuck on that elbow, I felt. I wanted the compositional flow to begin first from the figure at the left (which is how we are all of course programmed to read, in the West at least) and then across and then to circle back into what I think is perhaps the final focal point of interest; the girl in the middle of the picture, who is looking out at the viewer. Hopefully in this way, although it is not immediately apparent, the viewer comes to feel that they are implicated in the scene; they too, are part of the picture…

I had over the weekend got my housemate to take a photograph of me with the appropriate lighting arrangement for the figure on the left. Although I basically decided to use myself so as to not have the hassle of finding someone else willing to pose for this figure, I also thought it would be interesting for the painting to begin, when viewed, as something of a self-portrait perhaps (When this picture is exhibited I shall try to ensure that I also exhibit a more obvious self portrait- such as the one I first posted on this blog- so that the viewer will notice that it is perhaps the same person in this picture, and will then infer that this painting is relating an experience that I had, which is more or less the case: I am actually bringing figures seen and sketched during two separate evenings together, but I don’t think anyone would mind that…) Last night I soon realised that I needed to darken the tones around my head, and also generally on the left hand side of the picture, so as to give more focus on the other figures. I suddenly remembered- a recent trip to the National Gallery fresh in my mind- how Rembrandt and also Daumier would manipulate the shadows in their pictures; how they would throw large areas of their pictures into darkness to give greater focus- and hopefully also poignancy- to the areas in the light…

So there it is, the story so far. I am also here including the initial sketches I am working from for you to see. They are not examples of my best sketching abilities, but rather what my sketches look like when I am trying to draw someone who is not entirely still in a pub, on a tiny page of one of the tiny pocket-sized sketchbooks I always try to have on me, and without them noticing too! If you click on the sketchbook pictures then you can see them on your screen at about the size of the real things.

I have a couple of other pictures on the go too, in various stages of completion. The project is up and running now. I don’t think I have time to write about the progress of the other pictures as I am writing about this one, but I am hopefully before long I shall be able to post some more finished pictures up here…

Stage two of the underpainting, or grisaille for ‘At the...

Mon, 12 Mar 2012 22:32:00 +0000

Stage two of the underpainting, or grisaille for ‘At the Macbeth, Shoreditch’. I have made some changes, but I’m still not sure that I have resolved the design of the thing yet. It is tempting to just jump in with the colour…

At the Macbeth, Shoreditch (Unfinished) Oil on canvas, 35.5 x...

Mon, 05 Mar 2012 18:56:00 +0000

At the Macbeth, Shoreditch (Unfinished)

Oil on canvas, 35.5 x 25.3 cm

Almost a year ago I went to a gig at the Macbeth pub in Shoreditch where people were dressed up in the most extraordinary way. I sat at the bar and sketched one or two of them as best as I could. Now, about a year later, I have started a painting which I hope will work out okay once I come to put all the colours in, despite my only having a few quick sketches to work from.

I have also put into this picture a girl whom I sketched on another evening out. She’s the one in the stripy dress. I got chatting to her when she noticed me sketching her and we hung out a while that evening; her name was Sarah but unfortunately I never saw her again, as is so often the case in London. Perhaps one day she might notice herself in this painting when it is finished and eventually ends up on the walls of the Tate? That way I might get to see her again!

I have also sketched a figure in on the left hand side, that I shall attempt to pose for myself. I thought it would be interesting to try and put myself into a picture in this way, although it will be tricky to paint myself in profile like that…