The weather has been changeable, skies shifting from bright blue to lilac, pink and then heavy rice-pudding white. Snow falls overnight at the Arts Centre but thaws in the Spring sun. It's still hovering around zero degrees with a biting wind.
I had hoped to produce work here at the centre, that I would consider finished, but it’s not working out that way at all. I’ve never had to work in a studio space outside of my own- and getting used to it is quite difficult.
I have come to realise over the last two weeks that I am a messy painter. I rely on the organic behaviour of paint and restricting the way that I can work is frustrating, so I’ve retreated to making drawings, collage and colour studies of the actual landscapes. Having the time to focus and look carefully again is precious; being able to concentrate and think about my practice, without the deadlines that I have at home, will eventually be beneficial for sure. I’ve been mixing paints to create the myriad subtleties of the tone and shade that you find here, something that I haven’t done for years. As a person who is a little nervous of colour it’s proving to be very useful. I’m also spending lots of time working in charcoal and graphite sticks on natural canvas; using natural materials also seems appropriate in a place that is so elemental.
I think spending the first week travelling and taking 100’s of photographs will be the foundation of a new body of work. I am fascinated by this country, its precarious nature of fire and ice. I’ve been researching ice in all its forms this last week, both terrestrial and astronomical. The images from NASA of Triton are so beautiful, and the photographs so like the landscape formations that I have seen here.
This macro-micro notion has kept me busy for hours.
The virus has cast a shadow over my time here. I suppose primarily because I am away from my family – who are obviously concerned about the situation and its escalation. But I am in complete isolation here – relying on the BBC to keep me up to date with developments. All I see are stripped supermarket shelves, general panic and mixed advice at home. I may have to cut the residency short – which is upsetting, but every day I see countries closing their borders and movement restrictions enforced. It leaves me with a palpable sense of disquiet.
