Tuesday, 19 May 2026

Marc Chagal and his Gogol etchings

Мarc Chagall Mrs. Korobochka’s yard. 1927 Etching. 28 by 38 cm

Some artist's work I go back to again and again and Chagall's work in particular I have found most rewarding. It is the fusion between the awareness of looking that has come from Cézanne via Cubism and the visualisation of the mythic folk traditions of everyday life. Because of their stripped down nature, his etchings are I think easier for me to assimilate, they walk a tightrope between the flickering moments of outer perceptual awareness and the inner visions of memory, a tightrope walk that for myself, ties together interoception with perception, that constant flicker of conscious awareness that lies at the centre of life.

The Garden Beyond Plyushkin's House: From Dead Souls: Etching and drypoint 

During the 1920s Chagall made a suite of etchings illustrating scenes from Gogol's 'Dead Souls'. These etchings testify to the vision of a man torn between the folklore and literary tradition of his homeland and the new post Cubist lens of modern art. One image in particular has for myself become a keynote and it has helped me to think through how to potentially reconcile my approach to drawing the landscapes of perception, with my more imaginative reflections of what lies within. 'The Garden Beyond Plyushkin's House', etched and engraved during the period 1924/5, flickers with the scan of looking. The vegetation rises up and literally grows out of the ground behind the house, the house itself broken open to allow the rapture of energy to emerge. 

In my own drawings I have many times tried to achieve this sense of nature being looked at and at the same time being visualised as a living, growing entity. 




Sketchbook pages

I have also seen this sensibility in the work of other artists such as David Jones and Leonard McComb.

David Jones: Flora in Calix Light.

Leonard McComb

My grandad's shell case with flowers

Every now and again I try to find a way of drawing the world around me that echoes my own sensitivity to these same issues. An image such as the one above I made from my grandad's shell case, into which I had inserted flowers, was one such attempt to capture the flicker of my own looking, whilst at the same time finding an image that had symbolic force.
Jones and McComb also exhibit an uncertain certainty. Something I have written about in detail before. However, the important issue for myself about Chagall, is that he is also able to embed his interest in a mythic Russia, into his attempts to remind the observer that 'I saw this'. He is able to capture the feeling tone of a memory induced by Gogol's text, and at the same time access it via something that I feel was actually seen in Chagall's youth when he lived in a Russian village. Perception, memory and illustration entwined.

Yelizaveta Vorobey

In 'Dead Souls', the name Yelizaveta Vorobey is brought up by the landowner Sobakevich while he is listing recently deceased serfs to sell to the novel's protagonist, Chichikov, who will in turn try to sell them on to the government. The surname Vorobey translates to "sparrow" and in Chagall's image, she is both a dead soul and a lively old bird. Perception, memory and illustration entwined and imaginatively reinvented through etching; for Chagall, dead peasants are in his mind always very alive.
I have recently been asked to draw illustrations to a children's book. I hope I can like Chagall achieve something that transcends the text and that can stand alone as well as sit alongside the typography. I'm worried about this new venture and wonder how it can enhance what I'm trying to do, hoping that it wont simply be a diversion. But sometimes you just have to try things to see how you respond to them, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I hope what I come up with wont frighten the adults, my idea of a good children's book illustrator being Maurice Sendak and I know that adults tend to view Sendak's works as too dark and frightening, whereas children are enthralled by them. We shall see.

See also:



Tuesday, 12 May 2026

Imaging Inscape

This iconography was obtained after a prayer to the spirit of intelligence and of light to reveal itself by a form. A shower of lights and of intelligences. Luminous olives with trails and bent stem. Projected rays. These falls of lights, intelligences, understandings, according to the degree of their virtue will constitute the spirits of varied hierarchy and the beings which will reach carnal incorporation.

'Imaging Inscape: The Human Soul' is the title of Dr. Hippolyte Baraduc's 1913 book whereby he discloses the results of his experiments with photography and its ability to capture images of the invisible spirit world, as in the image above. 'Imaging Inscape' is also as a title, perfect for my research into the visualisation of interoception. 

The 'inscape' is what I am visualising when I mentally delve down below the skin. It was the poet Gerard Manley Hopkins who I think first defined the "Inscape", using the word to refer to the unique, inner identity of a thing, as well as a human being's interior mental landscape. Baraduc's use of the word I presume is in acknowledgement of Hopkins, who coined the word "inscape" to describe the inner essential character or "thisness" of a natural object, person or landscape. For him it was the distinct, dynamic pattern that constituted a being's identity, often perceived by Hopkins, as a fleeting, sacred and intense moment of beauty that revealed that everything was the result of God's creation and therefore at its core it had to be beautiful and wonderful. Hopkins uses 'inscape' to wondrous effect in his poetry. In 'As Kingfishers Catch Fire', each element has a special something that is essential to its being. the kingfishers catch fire as opposed to the dragonflies drawing flame. Just close your eyes and think of them both and their differences. The sudden dart of a kingfisher is like a flash seen against the dark of a river bank, the dragonfly flits along, its wings drawing flame as it crystallises the sunlight and dances with it from flower to flower. Hopkins sums up his idea in the phrase, 'Each mortal thing does one thing and the same', telling us that everything has a unique something that is essential to its identity. 

As Kingfishers Catch Fire

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell's
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves — goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I dó is me: for that I came.

I say móre: the just man justices;
Keeps grace: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God's eye what in God's eye he is —
Chríst — for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men's faces.


Gerard Manley Hopkins: illustration in 1862 letter to Charles Luxmoore

It is no surprise therefore that Hopkins loved drawing and was in his drawings looking for that 
unique something that was essential to a thing's identity. 


Gerard Manley Hopkins: Landscape: Flowing water

Text and image flow together in Hopkins, his awareness of the visual nature of reality penetrating his words as well as his eyes. His landscape is an 'inscape' as well as an 'outscape'. His drawings being very straightforward, with no pretension, simple records of a few moments of looking.

Beech, Godshill Church behind Fr. Appledercombe

Drawing of flower forms

Hopkins also draws in his letters, in my mind perhaps at exactly the same time that Van Gogh was drawing in his letters. Both men were of a religious cast of mind, Van Gogh wanting to become a pastor in the Dutch Reformed Church. His intense piety leading him at one point to work as a missionary in Belgium, Hopkins converting to Catholicism and working in both England and Ireland as a priest. Both men found a way to embed their piety into their art, one into painting and the other into poetry.

The 'iconography' as Dr. Hippolyte Baraduc termed his images, that sits at the top of this post, was obtained after a prayer to the spirit of intelligence and of light. Baraduc is like Van Gogh and Hopkins of a religious cast of mind. I tend to think of my own work as touching upon some sort of secular idea of the other, of spiritual forces that are more in common with the findings of contemporary physics, both which nevertheless seek to probe beyond what we can see and feel with the limits of our outer perceptual organs. Our inner feelings it seems to me are still surrounded by mystery and never fully open to objective clarity. It is in that gap between knowing and intuiting that art can operate and as it does I make no apologies for it touching upon the spiritual, an admission that I know will be for some readers also an admission of failure and I will be accused of hiding behind the mumbo jumbo of mysticism but if so, so be it.

An exploration of interoceptual feelings: Painted glass

I'm writing this post in a hotel room in Ganz, resting up after a day hosting workshops and working with the curators at Forum Stadtpark. The installation that houses my work, is one that is in my mind designed to echo the environment of an older man, like myself, who lives in a room of his own, unlike myself, that is composed of furniture he bought back in the 1980s. As the environment was constructed I was reminded of an older post, whereby I was reflecting upon how then current exhibitions were being hung. As the installation evolved, minds were changed many times but hopefully we got there in the end. Today there is going to be a 'round-table' and I get to speak about what I'm doing. Tomorrow the exhibition opens. 

Poster advertising tonight's talk

As I put the talk together for this evening I begin to wonder about 'instress': If 'inscape' is about that inner unique identity of things, 'instress' is the force or energy, that holds the inscape together and allows the viewer to experience it. Instress was seen by Hopkins as the power that carries the inscape into the mind of the observer. I wonder of that could be another name for 'art'. Thinking of which, here are a few shots of the exhibition.



Some of the lino cuts made as votives

I'm seeking to find visible symbols of invisible truths, attempting to externalise what are inner sensations and making feelings concrete, by embedding expression into imagery. All facets of a way of thinking that I have for a while now, thought of as animist. Rather than treating the non human world as a passive resource, animist thinking engages with it in terms of reciprocal relationships, therefore the objects I make also have their own agency, possessing powers that can engage with others and become agents for change. 

Wednesday, 6 May 2026

The flying carpet, art and craft

I sometimes get textiles made in order to communicate certain types of ideas; in the past I have had headscarves, shirt material and hangings made. I'm now thinking about how the carpet and prayer mat carry associations. As crafted forms they can also be used to posit questions as to where the art/craft divide now lies and whether or not that divide still exists. I recently saw that there had been an exhibition of what have been called Afghan war rugs. It was advertised with the for myself worrying byline, "War and conflict have long had a role in the production of art." The associated text went on to say that, "This survey is steeped in the tension between aesthetic beauty and violent subject matter." I wasn't sure about this either but it did remind me of something that has long haunted my imagination, the flying or magic carpet, a form I have been fascinated by since when as a boy I saw the 1940 film, 'The Thief of Bagdad'.

From: 'The Thief of Bagdad'. Abu on the magic carpet. 1940 Dir. Korda

Much of the action in the film takes place in Basra and at one point the young thief Abu is turned into a dog, an attribute as a 'Barker' I could easily empathise with, my then late 1950s school nickname being 'woofwoof'. 

Abu as a dog

My understandings and feelings about the city of Basra are therefore conflicted and confused, it is woven together in my head as both a place of magic and of war, a place inhabiting my 1950s memories as much as my more recent awareness of tragic events brought to me by the various news outlets.

My inner head mash up continues; our lodger is from Iraq and he has tales and stories of conflict from the time of Saddam Hussein, many people in his family having been put to death because of their political views. I still clearly remember going to London to march and protest against Tony Blair's Labour Government wanting to take us into war with Iraq over weapons of mass destruction; which we found out later never existed. We now see night after night of images of a gradually being destroyed Iran, so soon after it seems like a thousand and one nights of a slowly being destroyed Gaza, these events being our contemporary bedtime stories. The Middle East or more accurately West Asia, feels like a media myth, a story played out like some form of fantasy tale that no one in the West seems to have any real understanding of. The 'Middle East' might as well be another story from a 1001 Nights. In Islam, a prayer mat is placed between the ground and the worshipper. It also operates as a magical flying carpet, one that helps to separate the devout follower of Mohamed from the filth of the world when they pray. The prayer mat in effect operating as a temporary vessel for a spiritual journey.



 Prayer mats

Within Islam, the prayer mat is a powerful symbol and it is disrespectful to put one down for prayer in a dirty place. They are traditionally woven with a rectangular design, typically asymmetrical so that it is easy to see where the head goes when in prayer. The designs may also represent the promise of paradise and eternity, the mat in many ways operating like a doorway into paradise. No wonder the myth of a flying carpet arose out of this tradition. 

Unknown maker West Afghanistan, “War Rug with Peacocks,” date unknown


Detail from a prayer mat I had made and which was installed as part of an exhibition

Ten years ago I had a prayer mat made for an exhibition about the migrant crisis and I had a Qibla compass inserted into it, so that it was always set out on the gallery floor pointing towards the Kaaba in Mecca. I thought and still do, that the idea of a direction for prayer being more powerful than an idea such as North-ness, was an amazing thing, giving a physical shape to the idea of belief. Ten years on, the work feels naïve, so much has happened since then and AI has thrown image making into a tumble dryer, what might have been seen as an interesting conjunction back then, is now simply lost under an avalanche of everybody's personal AI image generated snow. Which is sort of why I'm getting more interested in craft. The handmade object is coming back into its own. The more AI is used to make decisions, the more we will need to be reminded that humans can still make things and we will look more and more for the fingerprints of a maker and perhaps value the sleek engineering of the manufactured object less. 

When I used to teach on the Foundation Course in Art and Design, there were fierce debates about the relative value of art and craft. Craft was often denigrated as being just about hand skills and fine art it was argued was more to do with concepts and was therefore of a higher value. Since then we have had the material turn, a theoretical shift across the humanities and social sciences that now focuses on the agency, role and importance of physical objects, technologies and bodies. "Things", such as a crafted object or a skill such as an ability to weave, are seen as active ingredients, enmeshed into life's meaning, rather than them being passive or inconsequential. Artists such as Grayson Perry have shown how articulate craft can be and have helped to break down the art/craft divide. 

But there is still that need to create meaning. It is wonderful to think that the hand is being appreciated as a thinking tool and that the mind is now understood as something embodied, rather than being something that sits outside of our bodies, sort of gazing out of a fog of unreality. But ideas are still needed, they just change with the readjustment of focus and the application of a new lens. Craft or an understanding of making, becomes an idea in its own right, therefore it can be added into a theoretical toolbox and then it rubs up alongside all those other ideas, such as critical theory, spirituality, evolution, game theory, scientific method, human rights or communism. 

I've just been working on two related pieces that are now showing in Yorkshire Sculptors Group exhibitions. One 'Monkey Mind' has gone on show in Barnsley Civic, the plan for its installation being directly below and the other 'The Cosmic Body' is on exhibition on the third floor of Salt's Mill in Saltaire. 

Monkey Mind

The Cosmic Body

Both installations are made of textiles and ceramic pieces, but I had the textiles made by a company that usually makes objects for domestic use, so they are seen as 'throws' or 'blankets' and I'm repurposing them as magic carpets. I have been trying to fuse several ideas together. One is to do with the fact that ancient burial sites have objects buried in with the bodies. These objects were often to help the dead navigate the afterlife and this navigation might be a protection from evil spirits or perhaps spiritual food for the now dead. 'Monkey Mind' is for the now alive, but to give them things to contemplate, in a similar way to how Japanese kusiizu images work, which are graphic depictions of corpses in the process of decay, images that Buddhists could meditate upon as reminders of the fragility of life and the reality of death. 'Monkey mind' being what we need to escape from, the never ending internal mind chatter of what to do and what to think being something that at some point we will have to cease. It's interesting that the only feedback I've had from anyone visiting is that someone thought my work looked like roadkill. 
In contrast 'The Cosmic Body' is more a reflection on traditional Chinese medicine (TCM) and its view of the body as a cosmic entity. In TCM the human body is visualised as a microcosm, a miniature universe or "cosmic entity". It is intricately linked to the natural world and governed by the same forces, therefore health is maintained by balancing our internal energies to ensure harmony between body, mind and the world. I continued to put '
The Cosmic Body' together in different ways as I was trying to follow various narrative shifts, but I had to stop as the work needed to be installed in Salts Mill in readiness for the exhibition opening. 




Details: The Cosmic Body

I like the mix of a cheap reproduction, (the textiles) and the hand made, (the ceramics). In many ways the ceramics are 'cheap', as I am using bright earthenware glazes and have avoided the subtlety of stoneware. I'm still trying to work out what things mean, rather than simply letting go but I seem to be in a mental trap of my own making. Both these pieces are presented on 'magic carpets'. The textiles being frames that allow the idea to float, as if in another world, the fringes defining the edges of an idea as much as an object. However I now need to refocus on the work for Graz, as I go over tomorrow to install work and host workshops. After all the hassle trying to get the work over there, (I was using a carnet system as organised by the Bradford Chamber of Commerce), I shall also go over with a tube of glue, in case when I open the shipping crate, the ceramics are broken. The getting of an exhibition into Europe is now a post Brexit nightmare, but I shall reserve the details for a later post, as the procedures took a while to sort out. If someone else reading this blog is foolish enough to also be thinking of shipping an exhibition across the Channel, all I can say is, beware the bureaucracy of the carnet system. 

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Friday, 1 May 2026

Some primitive forms


By chance I found the image above entitled 'Some Primitive Forms', it reminded me of Hokusai's 'how to' drawings, whereby he shows us how to construct images out of basic geometry.

Hokusai

I was also reminded of William Latham's 'Family of forms' and his involvement in the Organic Art product. The idea was to show how organic forms could be 'bred' by asking a computer program to develop more and more complex forms from combinations of basic units.

William Latham

William Latham: A Family of Forms

Reflections bring about connections and I was soon thinking again about the time when I used to teach on the Foundation Course at Leeds. One of the processes we used to engage with was building complex forms out of simple shapes. We used to get students to draw simple 'primitive' shapes in the form of three dimensional solids and then to use them to construct more and more complicated forms. We would begin by constructing images similar to the ones immediately below. Occasionally I need to remind myself of how useful and important an idea this was.


The concept that the world can be constructed from a series of basic building blocks is an ancient one and relates to Plato's idea that beneath the complexity of appearance, there lay a basic set of simple forms, in his case we have what we now call the Platonic Solids, five simple forms whereby each face is made up of the same regular flat polygon and the same number of polygons meet at each corner. These forms would also come to have symbolic meanings, the cube representing earth, the octahedron air, the tetrahedron fire, the icosahedron water and the dodecahedron the whole universe.The thing about primitive forms is that you can gradually make them more convoluted, which is great if you are thinking about drawing complicated things. 

The first form to draw three dimensionally is usually the cube. This can be done in perspective as above or it can be an isometric as immediately below. Once you are able to do this, the first set of complicated forms most students produce are made by cutting slices and blocks out of the first set of primitives.

Isometric rectangular blocks being cut into


You can also twist a basic shape, or elongate it by pulling it. If you have sliced it, you can gradually change each slice, so that a form begins to bend or get larger or smaller as it is built. 






Once you have grasped the basic concept you can go on to create organic looking forms such as the shell below. all you need to do as a drawer, is to have a basic grasp of perspective and the time to practice drawing these forms over and over again, so that in your head you have a good three-dimensional understanding of possibilities. 

Drawing for snail votive

This notebook drawing for a snail votive may seem a long way from the concept of primitive forms but without time spent doing the work of drawing those forms many years ago, the what seems to be a quickly thrown off sketch, would not be anywhere near as convincing. 

Snail votive

In the world of CGI, other techniques and processes have now been introduced that build on more sophisticated rendering systems to do something similar, but with an inbuilt awareness of light interaction as forms evolve, so that the changing form of shadows becomes a vital part of the process.  

Some primitives made by raymarching 

For instance, raymarching is a 3D rendering technique that iterates rays step-by-step through a scene, often using Signed Distance Fields (SDFs) to determine safe step distances, (the distance an object travels between frames, to achieve natural, weight-accurate, and smooth movement). Unlike traditional polygon-based rendering, it is frequently used to render complex, procedural or fractal geometry by calculating, rather than intersecting, surfaces.

It gets more interesting when you begin putting forms together. Nature of course got there first, anabolism is the process where cells build complex molecules from simpler ones. Examples include amino acids joining to form proteins or nucleotides forming DNA strands. 

I'm always looking for visual metaphors and the idea of building images from 'primitive' units, is an interesting one, as it suggests that you can build an image in a similar way to how nature constructs complex forms of life. 

This is an old idea, in the 5th century BC the Greek philosophers Leucippus and Democritus articulated the idea of 'atomism'. This concept which asserted that all matter consists of indivisible, invisible particles called atomos, is at the root of why we now call atoms, atoms. The Roman poet Lucretius, then re-articulated this view and in his influential text 'On the Nature of Things' he wrote that atoms are eternal, vary in shape and combine to form all the physical substances that we experience.

However over the last hundred years or so, we have been breaking down the atom and discovering that it is not indivisible, but that it is made up of quarks, electrons, positrons, neutrons, charm and it seems more and more bits, the more scientists probe into the nature of matter, the more it seems to slip away from our understanding of it as a physical substance.

In India at roughly the same time as Leucippus and 
Democritus were thinking about atomos, a similar idea was being developed by Kaṇāda of the Vaiśeṣika school of thought, he proposed indivisible particles (paramāṇu) too, however he also proposed the idea of atoms having momentary (instantaneous) presence, a presence that flashed in and out of existence. Kaṇāda asserted that all that is knowable is based on motion. He also asserted that all substances are composed of four types of atoms, two of which have mass and two being massless. These ideas were presented within a larger moral framework whereby he defines Dharma as the cosmic order. He understands that duty, law, and a right way of living sustain our universe. This is a foundational principle out of which Hinduism, Buddhism and Jainism will develop concepts of virtue, morality, and righteous conduct. Kaṇāda's explicit mention of motion as the cause of all phenomena in the world, does seem to echo the realisation that it is the flux of energy and solid mass that is fundamental. Our present understanding of the basic interactions governing the universe is based on an agreement that there are four fundamental forces; gravity, electromagnetism, strong nuclear force, and weak nuclear force. There are though still little bits in there in terms of the way physicists think. These four forces dictate how matter and energy interact, but in order to interact there needs to be a factor that allows them to do this and this is where we come across exchange particles or bosons. There are various types and some most of us have come across already, Photons carry the electromagnetic force, Gluons the strong nuclear force, W and Z bosons the weak nuclear force, the Higgs boson that gives mass to particles and the hypothetical Graviton that is supposed to carry gravity.

It would be nice to think that our present understanding of the universe might also come with a moral framework, whereby our understanding of the cosmic order, was reflected in a way to approach life. The interconnectedness of everything makes us aware that we are part of an ever forming universe and therefore any religions or forms of thinking that attempt to fix or hold down our conceptual grasp of who and what we are, should be seen as suspect. Over the centuries we have witnessed terrible wars and conflicts, often initiated by one party or another refusing to see the point of view of another. The inflexibility of thinking that comes from a belief in dogma, has caused us to forget that we need to be in constant dialogue with the world and not see it as something separate from us. Empathy with the not us, could perhaps be the starting point for a new moral framework, one that also saw duty, law and a right way of living as principles on which to sustain our world. 

As an artist I have to sustain my practice with some sort of underlying belief. Perhaps this is a curse as much as a strength. It would be wonderful to just 'know' what is right, I use up so much energy worrying about what stance to take but as I get older I get even more thoughtful as to what it is to make art and in this instance perhaps all I can do is leave you with an unformed blob, something waiting for realisation, something on the way to being something else.

I spend time every week with lumps of clay not too unlike the form above and as soon as my fingers begin to push and pull its surface into different directions, ideas of possibilities begin to emerge. Perhaps that is the point, everything is full of potential and all we need to do is to play. Out of play emerges wonder and it is through wonder that we finally find our place in the world. 

Coda

I'm working in Graz putting up an exhibition of my votive work. On the weekend I decided to visit the local museums, of which there are several. In the natural history museum I was fascinated by the history of the earth under my feet in Styria, (the Austrian province Graz is in), in particular in the geology and mineralogy of the area. As I wondered through the older mineral collection galleries, I think I found what I was meant to find, a section of hand made forms, designed as a learning tool for people wanting to think about how various rock formations were constructed out of underlying geometrical principles.

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