Showing posts with label monoprint. Show all posts
Showing posts with label monoprint. Show all posts

Friday, 9 March 2012

Ruth/Mrs. Finchley

I'm in the process of designing and producing an 'artist's book'/comic at the moment. It won't be finished until around May, but as we had to put together an exhibition today, I made a couple of trial double-page spreads to show. The design will probably change somewhat between now and when the final thing comes together, but this'll give you some idea of what I'm working on anyway.



Saturday, 26 March 2011

Grandparents and memories

Untitled (2010). Ink, charcoal, paper ephemera, monoprint, calico, parachute silk (well, the cheap version of it anyway).
This was a piece on the subject of memory. The central figure is my grandad, who I never met as he died before I was born. He fought in the RCAF during WW2 at age 17 - he was too young to join the RAF in Britain. The idea was to piece together an image of his memories from this time, based on old photographs and stories I heard from my mum and grandma. I get the impression it was the best time of his life - he never talked about the bombing he'd had to take part in, but he did love flying planes. There are certainly things I could have done a lot better with this piece, the very noticeably asymmetrical shape bugs me. But in person it's got a really nice texture. 

Untitled - detail (2010). Ink on calico.
Untitled (2009). Manipulated family photograph from WW2.
Untitled (2009). Manipulated family photograph from WW2.
Grandma (2010). Charcoal on paper.
During the time I was working on that project for college, my grandma was very sick with cancer. I took the main drawing of my grandad to show her while she was in a nursing home, but after that she was rarely composmentis at all and she died before I finished it. The night before she died, I did this charcoal portrait of her from a holiday photograph. Those of you who have known someone with cancer will know how much it can change a person. We knew she was going to die soon and I wanted us to be able to remember her how she had been for most of her life - kind, strong and lively with a wicked sense of humour - not how she was when she died.