Graphic Grey

Sunday, 12 May 2013

Thoughts on Mastering your Craft


My bedtime reading this week has been a book called 'The Goldmine Effect' by Rasmus Ankersen, an ex-professional footballer and performance specialist. The book is essentially about how, in the end, success comes down to who wants it most. Thus it beautifully answers many of the questions that I am frequently asked about how to succeed as an artist.


Over and over again I hear the question "what should I do to become a successful artist?" Ha! I wish I knew! It's taken me almost nine years since leaving art college to get where I am now, and although I guess I have achieved a great deal, I definitely haven't reached a pinnacle of success by any stretch of the imagination! I have a long way to go yet; there's certainly no magic formula to make the route easier either. One thing I do know though is that although I may have been blessed with a degree of talent, most of my gains have come about through brute determination and hard work. I have a huge drive to succeed, period.

If I look around at all the other creative professions such as graphic designers, architects etc, I see them working flat out to grow their small businesses into something successful. Those that don't will fail, for competition within those fields is stiff. I am a creative professional, so count myself as operating on the same playing field. It is considered entirely normal for any other creative profession to work at least a forty hour week to achieve success, and I have always believed that I must too in order to succeed as an artist. And so I make sure I work for a minimum of 8 hours every day, and usually chalk up over 40 working hours every week. Not only does this further my career, but it also enables me to develop my technical skill set. I don't expect to gain unless I put in the hard work.

When reading 'The Goldmine Effect’ it was good to find my thoughts echoed. Rasmus talks a great deal about the consensus of idea that in order to gain true mastery of a skill, whether sport, art or anything else, the amount of training required to become world class is 10,000 hours. This is the equivalent to putting in 2 hours and 40 minutes every day for ten years: the Ten Years Rule. Thus "high performance (success) is first and foremost a choice that you can make, as long as you are willing to invest in what it takes". So, the fact that I've been working professionally as an artist for almost nine years now means that I have surely clocked up my 10,000 hours of practice. In fact, with my 8 hour days I must be well over. This seems to corroborate the fact that the last couple of years have been my most successful ever. It's not only my practical artistic skills which I have honed, but also the arts-based training side of my practice and my business skills; all of these have finally begun to add up, meaning my art is at last en route to becoming truly successful.

Further on in the book Ankersen says "it seems that anyone who thinks that talent means that success will come quickly or easily is setting themselves up to be disappointed." Well sure, I agree. In addition, surely success is twice as sweet because of the effort you have put in to get there, and the knowledge and life skills you have learnt along the way? It's easy to become disheartened and think we'll never attain the levels of success of those 'talented' individuals we see around us. But "when we are convinced that we see raw, innate talent, we are in reality simply seeing 10,000 hours of training consumed at a very early stage in a person's life." This means that to be a successful artist we mustn't give up. We must paint more, create more, become more fully immersed in all aspects of our practice and build up our own 10,000 hours. Unfortunately though, as Ankersen points out, "it's no good having 10,000 training hours... if your competitors have 20,000... How much effort and how many hours you are going to have to practice to become the best are defined by your market. In many markets, it takes 10,000 hours of preparation to win because most people give up after 5,000 hours. In other markets where the rewards for succeeding are huge and the competition ruthless, the number is probably closer to 20,000 or more." 

Wise words indeed, and so very true. How many artists do you know of who have got tired of the struggle to make something of themselves, and given up to get a 'real' job with regular pay cheque? Perhaps all they needed for success was a little more persistence and practice, and a little less impatience. You must focus on your long-term goal; the route to the top is never going to be easy otherwise everyone would be there already.

So I guess this is the best advice I can give to any artist who is desperate to succeed: There's no magic formula; no group or society you can join which will instantly put your art in front of the big galleries; no recipe for success. All I can advise is to keep going, to network with as many people as possible, to have a strong online presence, learn as much as you can, and above all, to spend as much time honing your craft as possible. I can honestly say that the progression of my career has been one of the most difficult, frustrating, satisfying, exhilarating and rewarding things I have ever done. From a self-conscious, shy art student I have now become a confident business person who counts art as just as one of my many skills. And this in itself is a great success.

 

Tuesday, 7 May 2013

Childish Experiments #2


In my quest for a solvent which can remove newsprint ink from newspaper I’ve been doing a bit of online research. Whilst doing this I’ve rediscovered an activity I remember from my childhood. It wasn’t so much an experiment, more an interesting discovery, that Silly Putty (the fascinating, mouldable, semi-solid goo in a plastic egg) will pick up the text from newspaper when they are both pressed together.




So as a child I would go around collecting text and images from newspapers on my flattened Silly Putty, then squishing the putty together until the writing had gone. I’d repeat the process over and over until the olive green putty turned black from all the blended ink. I don’t remember ever wondering why the transfer of text was so successful with the putty, and yet didn’t occur when using other mouldable substances such as clay. It turns out there is a scientific reason for this. It’s all to do with the solubility of the ink.

A rule of thumb for solubility of two substances is “like dissolves like.” Polar substances (such as water or alcohol) will dissolve other polar substances. Likewise, nonpolar substances (such as oil and fat) will dissolve other nonpolar substances. However, polar and nonpolar substances (oil and water) do not dissolve in each other.
Newsprint ink is a pigment suspended in oil (a nonpolar substance) which is adsorbed by the paper. Since Silly Putty picks up the ink from the newsprint, it must also be a nonpolar material. The pigment-oil suspension of the newsprint ink is readily adsorbed by Silly Putty. Our oily skin often picks up newsprint for the same reason.

From this, I can conclude that inks which the Silly Putty cannot pick up are polar substances and therefore are not readily picked up by the nonpolar Silly Putty.
So does this then give me a clue as to how to dissolve newsprint? Nonpolar solvents, as a rule, sound pretty unpleasant to me...
At least this discovery has started me thinking about testing a greater range of solvents to discover which may share the polarity with the various inks and pigments I have been using. So far I’ve tried numerous household cleaning solutions, as well as acetone, surgical spirit and white spirit, with varying success. My next batch of experimentation will be with various inorganic salt solutions; beginning with table and Epsom salts, and then progressing away from the commonplace and further into the world of chemistry. I’m curious to see how they may react when placed side by side with a selection of pigments, inks and solvents… *dons mask and gloves*
 

Sunday, 28 April 2013

Childish Experiments


With a research and development project it’s sometimes hard to know where to start, for with so many possible avenues to explore, the possibilities are endless. A recently rediscovered book from my childhood has been supplying me with my current inspiration. It was written in the 1980s, an era in which, I guess, we as children must have been much more innocent and easily pleased than the children of today. Activities include such gems as how to make a mouse and twirling ballerina out of a pocket handkerchief. My attention was caught however, by a recipe to make an image transfer medium using white spirit and soap.
 
 


While I can’t say that the images I transferred using this method were entirely successful ), they have led me to an interesting line of enquiry around the capturing of images for insertion into resins.
 
 
I’m particularly keen on the idea of physically ‘capturing’ the ink from a page as opposed to reprinting or copying the page as I love the idea that the removal of the ink and its encapsulation is somehow extracting and preserving the soul or essence of the book/newspaper/printed words; somehow more pleasing to me than simple reproduction. My next step will be to experiment with solvents/alcohols to see whether I can dissolve the ink from the page. Any suggestions as to what may work would be gratefully received!

Saturday, 13 April 2013

Absorbing interactions between Resins and Pigments

Over the past few weeks I've been creating intricate cracked patterns which, when viewed up close, bear a remarkable resemblance to the cracked, dried mud patterns found in river beds.


This has started me thinking again about the way that mankind persists in mimicking nature. As a species we are inherently contradictory; on the one hand we struggle to control and gain power over the natural world, shaping it to suit our needs, and yet at the same time we place nature on a pedestal, forever reproducing and recreating it for our own pleasure. Think of the smell of a flower captured artificially in perfumes and air fresheners, pine forest bleach, artfully arranged plastic 'blooms' in a hotel foyer and stunted trees cropped to suit the restricted growing space of an urban street. Or look to the extreme example of The World; fake islands constructed in the shape of countries and continents and arranged in the shape of the world off the coast of Dubai.


When I compare these man-made endeavours (which somehow always retain an aura of 'fakeness' no matter the skill of the craftsman) to the real, nature-made wonders of the world, I can't help but notice that in general we seem to prize our own attempts at recreating nature above and beyond nature itself.

I've been contemplating this seriously ever since attending a discussion event at Arcade Cardiff last week. 'Don't Bite the Hand that Feeds' formed part of the 'Rising Tide' exhibition by the artists Catrin Davies and Lewis Wright, Ingrid Schildermans and Matthew Macaulay. The premise of the show was essentially to consider/highlight mankind's utilisation and replication of nature to suit our own ends. As part of the discussion, a lady from the Red Kite Feeding Centre in Bwlch Nant yr Arian, Ponterwyd had been invited to participate. She helps to operate a feeding programme for Red Kites which has essentially ensured the survival of the species in the 'wild'. This, as a result, has altered the course of natural selection for by providing regular food the principle of  'survival of the fittest' no longer applies. Injured and deformed birds now thrive alongside their evolutionally perfect counterparts. If the feeding programme was removed most of these artificially sustained birds would die as there are insufficient natural food supplies to sustain their population. This interests me greatly for it illustrates the full extent of man's hand in nature, and that how even what appears to be commendable and 'natural' on the surface has been shaped by our input. Even the hills and fields of the 'untouched' countryside are unnaturally green and shaped by generations of farming.


So I guess my resin experiments fit comfortably into this theory, for at the moment the outcomes seem to be the creation of a superior, technicolour mimicry of nature. My own tough, more robust Super-Nature. And somehow I remain captivated by this quest and powerless to move on.

Monday, 25 March 2013

Mixing Up Arts and Science in my Studio


Arts and science collaborations seem to be cropping up everywhere at the moment. After reading about the Broad Vision collaboration at Westminster University http://www.guardian.co.uk/education/2013/mar/19/art-students-find-beauty-in-science, it seemed appropriate to be heading to my studio the following day bearing not only traditional artist's materials, but also more unusual substances like filter paper, microscope slides and Windolene! My art thrives on experimentation. There's nothing like the glow of pleasure when an experiment goes well and turns up an unexpectedly beautiful outcome. And happily that is just what happened. Things are looking interesting so far in the world of Material Interventions, backing up my belief that just because something comes with a set of instructions it doesn't mean you have to follow them. Just because its called Windolene doesn't mean it has to be used for cleaning windows!

Alongside my own arts practice I run workplace training and team building courses for businesses. One of the things that I find surprisingly prevalent is the difficulty staff in various large companies have with lateral thinking and thinking outside the box. Have we all become so obsessed with following rules and doing things the 'right' way that sections of society are losing the ability to be creative? As an artist I am privileged to be able to spend some of my days following the paths of my brainstorming sessions to their conclusions; if I have a great idea in the middle of the night I can get up the next day and work to make that idea a reality, and in doing so, who knows what other great discoveries or lucky accidents I might find? And that's the basis from which my training sessions evolve. Creative challenges = thinking differently = workplace improvements.

Similarly I practice what I preach within my own work. I set myself a challenge, in this case defined by my goals set out in my Arts Council grant application. Using unusual materials in non-prescriptive ways means there is no rule book for me to follow, and thus I'm forced to think differently and experiment to produce results. This I hope will drive my practice forward to create things of beauty which have never been made, or even conceived of before.

 

Thursday, 28 February 2013

Material Interventions - My New Resin Project

My aim with this new project is to discover an unexpected aesthetic and untapped potential within resins (and other industrial materials) through a process of experimentation, trial and error.

Many, many thanks to the Arts Council of Wales for deciding to support me in this Research and Development project.

I will be posting images here on this blog, but will be charting my weekly progress, trials and tribulations on my new project blog.

The project is all about researching new materials, so I plan to organise talks about my findings and possibly studio visits and workshops too. If you are a member of a group/school/organisation who would be interested in this please drop me a line here.