Month: August 2024

experimenting with exposure

It is a calm Saturday, overcast with a little breeze.  I googled the sun and is listed to be out above the city of Sheffield later this afternoon.  I have wanted to try something for some time, thinking of home. My cyanotypes have mostly utilised pressed flowers and photographic negatives from when I lived in the hutongs of China, all of which rely on the sun to develop the image. I have mostly worked in the studio but have a small amount of papers that I coated last night, and they are under my nose.

Surprisingly, at 8am, a break in the clouds allowed the sun to break through and cast a brief shard of light across the floor of my tiny flat in Sheffield.  Alfie watches on as I place the two objects from home, made of etched glass or crystal, into the shard of light.  The crystal glass was Susan Halcrow’s. I tear a pre prepared paper in half to experiment with what I have – a brief moment of sunshine, two objects, my floor and a little hope.  Here goes.

The sun gives me about 3 minutes, not long enough to develop a clear image. I don’t move, the sun reappears, Alfie lies down and I hope at the wonder of what might emerge – in total I have only about five minutes of sunshine which matches my impatience.

While I wait, I’m thinking of the shadow moving across the paper, even a small amount will blur the image, if the image will take at all and then I am thinking of the movement of time – the Japanese concept of Ma, ( the space and pause between all things) that I am interested in and I watch as the sun hides again, the paper is cast into a shadow and a faint image is exposed upon the paper. I take my chance.

This is one of my processes. Experimentation – either with wool, colour, photography or cyanotype – to take a chance in the moment, with what I have to hand.

And here is the first result.

https://videopress.com/v/12Ho1qLr?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true

I love how the bottom of the jug is deepened in colour, I love how the etched glass stretches in pattern and a faint movement of impression.

Tomorrow, the sun is booked for some hours, I will try again. Hopefully, with a time of exposure to show movement. While, Alfie sleeps on.

Wallpaper

In 2023, when I stayed in Japan for 3 weeks, I viewed exquisite screens in Zen temples in Kyoto, and found that in a world filled with noise and speed, the Japanese concept of ‘Ma’ offered me a new perspective. ‘Ma,’ represents the space, gap, or pause between objects, sounds, or moments. It is not about negative space, but a presence of emptiness that enhances harmony and aesthetics.  I am now constantly considering the concept of Ma, I have since resumed my craft and technical skills of wallpaper printing from my time as Artist in Residence at Sheffield Institute of Art (2019). My current body of work is delicately pressed flower botanical prints and encompasses hand-printed wallpaper, cyanotype botanical prints and the concept of Ma. I am working with my own pressed flowers which at first, I rushed to position in fear of losing the sun process to develop the print, but now I am considering, ‘Ma’ within how I work.

Here I am, on a Saturday, in searing heat, down in my little studio in Sheffield.

I am excited to share the new panels of botanical cyanotype prints that are full of risk and joy.  Firstly, I spend hours finding flowers then pressing them.  They’re pressed under all manner of heaps of cardboard and wood until they emerge, almost flat.  I say almost because I am choosing very chunky buds and flowers like the long tall stem of a Hollyhock with varying depths of bud, seed head and stem and slim leaves – which causes issues with pressing different depths of flower. And then there are the wonderful huge fluffy yellow daisy flowers which, when pressed, and gently removed from the paper that they have stuck to, they disintegrate.  I have one long stemmed small sunflower that I hardly dare look at, squashed between paper and wood. 

The African Lilies didn’t fair well either, when I lifted them from pressing, their petals fell off, so I printed them with falling petals, like tears. 

My flower cyanotypes are subject to risk and mishaps and then there is the sun.  The sun is vital in the developing process of the sheet and when breeze joins in, my carefully pressed flowers blow across the yard of Bloc Studios and I don’t know whether to collect the hard earned flowers or pick up the half baked cyanotype.

I have been in a wonderful development phase which has opened ideas to working at Carousel Studio here in the city, with their UV light box, because the sun won’t be strong enough to process the development of colour in a month or so. And, it will be out when I am at work – I cannot turn the sun on 🙂 The strength of the sun and the length of time of shine on the developing cyanotype, all make a difference. Here, you can see details of sections that worked through lengthy sunshine exposure.

below, the print is slightly lost through less exposure, but I also like the ghost like finish

I am excited by the results and my process and new ideas from my cyanotype prints.  If you have been following me for some time, you may remember my first wallpaper prints which were Shetland lace patterns, and are here in 2019, when I wallpapered the inside of an abandoned croft house in Bressay as a testament to the women knitters who one lived there.

I planning further development of my process in printed wallpaper to include lino cuts and silk screen printing and gold leaf. Maybe even golden petal tears. And I will be showing the panels in Flower shop and concept shop windows.



Let me know your thoughts 😊