It comes to pass in many young children’s lives where they begin to leave art behind. It won’t take more than a few years before many of them will begin to say, “Oh, I can’t draw. I wish I could, but I can’t.” Their imagination no longer lines up with their perception of reality, and slowly they cease to draw or paint for fear of “getting it wrong”.
Interestingly, a lot of accomplished artists actually break down and strip away a lot of what they create to reveal the real essence of their subject, to get the heart of the work right before embellishment is added. We’ve all experienced the desperation of wondering why artwork we’ve spent hours on “doesn’t look right”… I suppose, “over-working” artwork can occur when you add too many layers that stifle the life out of a piece of work, accidentally extinguishing the little bonfire of excitement that pushed you to create it in the first place. Perhaps this is why it’s so interesting to see the sketchbooks of our favourite artists- they are books constructed from little sparks of excitement, raw glimpses into the mind of a person. Since it’s been a while since I wrote a post, I thought I’d describe the last couple of months by way of a series of these little moments!
Back in July, some friends and I went to Dublin for the first time to see an exhibition all about the production of one of my favourite animated films, “The Song of the Sea”. We got to meet and chat to one of the very lovely animators who had worked on the film as well as seeing their process from concept to final product! (Below are some of my own photos taken at the exhibition, as well as some stills from the finished film.)
From sketches right through to final animation, this film bursts with life and energy. The shapes and structures are wonderfully simple (the stormy skies in one scene come from the process of letting wet ink bleed across a page) but so beautifully detailed and embellished. Its heart and soul is Irish through and through, and draws many of its narrative elements from Irish folklore (particularly the legend of the Selkie.) Could this mean that energy and essence are easier retained through the artwork process when a story is at its core?
As well as the Song of the Sea exhibition, during our stay in Dublin we visited the Leprechaun museum (also known to some as the Irish Folklore museum, but as our guide pointed out, the word ‘Leprechaun’ draws in more overseas travellers than the word “Folklore” would.) We went for the evening show, which meant we got all the scarier stories they’re not allowed to tell in the day for fear of scaring the children… They do a podcast now too, around a new story per month, which is brilliant to listen to for inspiration or to help you relax. (You can find that here if you’re curious!) The storytellers are truly talented people, and really whisk you up into their tales- I’ve started compiling my own written notebook of the stories I’ve learnt, for later reference (avid readers will know how much I love illustrating a good folk tale!)
I go back quite a lot to visit my friends and significant other in Wales for weekend adventures- joined by my sketchbook, of course! I had a bit of fun sketching the chickens belonging to my other half’s parents back in the summer, although I do have a bit of a rocky past with one in particular… Let’s just say, when she didn’t want to get back into the barn with her friends, I attempted to assert myself in herding her back inside, while she remained not the least bit bothered or affected by what I was trying to achieve. This fact aside, she and her friends made some excellent life models!
I had an exciting adventure to a certain “Culver’s Cove” back in August, an an old favourite spot for smugglers around the Welsh coastlines. The most frequent visitors now seem to be seabirds, but even that is pretty exciting- any slight noise and the sky is filled with startled shapes zipping overhead.
The construction set within the cliff face seems more organic than man-made, save for these three little windows carved out of the face, smuggler’s spy-holes, I bet.
All of these little moments over this year have paved the way for the most recent show I participated in. I’ve been meeting with a few local artists to help plan this event for a while now, as round where we are there isn’t that much in the way of easily accessible art- there’s plenty of artists, but with the exception of a bi-annual county-wide arts trail, there’s not much that can tie us all together. That’s exactly what we wanted to change, and bring all of these talented people out of their homes and studios, to put more of their work into the public eye, and bring more of a sense of unity and community to our little spot in the world. Everyone was very happy with how the event turned out- we all managed to sell some work and make some new contacts, and our wonderful hosts, a volunteer-run, coastal view cafe, were thrilled with the buzz we managed to create outside of the normal season. A fantastic week all round!
After digesting an audiobook of George Orwell’s 1984 and a new TV series this week (while combating a particularly nasty cold) I can’t help but think upon the importance of the little quirks and personalities that each and every person has. Keeping a sketchbook, drawing and painting allows me to express more of myself than I ever could with words: much like Winston Smith in 1984, the process of recording in books your thoughts and feelings, however they come out, is a record of your individuality that cannot be denied.
After all, we are all human. We are scared, vulnerable, joyful, unpredictable, and full of love; and for many of us, art is one of the things that will enable us never to forget that.
The AutumnHobbit
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