Geelong Grammar School Residency - a final studio visit

   

My time in the Geelong Grammar School studio is now just a fond memory, albeit one that will linger on. In this post I step inside for one last visit, if only a virtual one, and hope you’ll join me.

During the residency my time was equally divided between painting and printmaking. I set up the printmaking table directly inside the the studio entrance and my painting table at the opposite end.

 

Second from the top, above left, and top left in the more detailed view below, is a previously carved block, part of Illustrated Women, an artist book in the making. My intention was to use this and other pre-carved blocks to demonstrate hand burnishing techniques to the students.

To its right is the first linocut design completed during the residency. Made for a major group exhibition and print exchange next year, the block is ready to begin cutting. In fact, I’d intended to complete the carving while I was here - until the Muse decided to pay me an unexpected visit.

In the foreground of the table are my three most recent works, shown in various stages of progress. None of these were previously planned. Progress views of the blocks centre and right were featured in my last post. They are intended for a collaborative exhibition, The Artist’s Garden, a Goldfields Printmakers project. In September 2022, two works from each of us will be exhibited in Bristol as part of IMPACT 12, a international print symposium held biennially in various parts of the world. The Artist’s Garden will also be exhibited in Australia (details to follow). Being exceedingly time poor, I’d initially declined to participate in the exhibition. But the Geelong residency gave me what I’d previously lacked: time and the headspace to recognise that there was indeed a place in my work - and my schedule - for it. Moreover, the two panels for IMPACT 12 have provided the impetus for an ongoing series that may also develop into an artist book. A third panel (foreground left) is currently in development and others will follow in due course.

Below: a detailed progress view of my work for next year’s print exchange and group exhibition. 

Everyone I met during the residency, from the Principal to the students to everyone else, was warm, welcoming and genuinely interested in what was unfolding in the studio. People of all ages stopped by to talk about the work.

I particularly enjoyed my sessions with the art school teachers and their students. Directly below is Gen, snapped on the last day of my residency. A student from her group was examining my Moth Woman Vigilantes lino blocks, made several years ago, when she noticed one one of them bore an uncanny resemblance to Gen.

Among the things I’ll miss most are the early morning chats with Lucy before classes began for the day. 

Working with her colleague Sharon, AKA Shaz (pictured below) was also a joy. 

Unfortunately I never got a photo with Peter Bajer, Head of Visual Arts, who I probably spent the most time with. What an extraordinarily kind, thoughtful and considerate host he was. I’ll really miss joining him for morning tea in the staff room and in the cathedral-like dining hall (affectionately referred to as “Hogwarts”) at lunchtime. Every day he would come to collect me, ensuring I took proper breaks. Peter and his wife Iga looked out for me throughout the residency, and were marvellous company - it’s mainly thanks to them that I was able to settle in so quickly. 

Early in the residency, Andrew Ryan took a series of photos for the school’s archives and has kindly sent them through to me. One of his portraits of me is now on the school website. You can see it HERE. It’s an honour to join the list of luminaries who have gone before me, and in August, my partner, Shane Jones, will be among them!

A small selection of Andrew’s photos are below. Also in the photos are are a delightful group of students from one of Lucy’s classes.

The sun may have set on my residency, but besides a swag of happy memories, there has been much to take away with me: new works, the promise of new directions, and a world of new beginnings.

End of an era

It’s amazing what you find when you’re having a major clear out, for example, this snippet from THE AGE newspaper, dated Wednesday, April 24, 2002. The article focuses on the challenges faced by artists who are based in inner-city areas, in our case, Abbotsford. There is a long history of artists discovering affordable areas in which to live and work, then being forced out when they become fashionable and prohibitively expensive. The article contains some inaccuracies - for example, our soon-to-be-former studio/dwelling most certainly wasn’t purchased with the aid of a government grant. Aside from that, it’s spot on.

New Abbotsford workspace

Our place in Abbotsford has been a virtually constant work in progress since we moved here. (I've just asked Shane to remind me how long it's been and he tells me it will be twenty years ago next May. Goodness - where did that almost-two decades go to?) Aside from getting an air conditioner installed upstairs in recent weeks (heaven knows how we survived without one for so long) the other exciting - and considerably more aesthetically pleasing - development is the latest transformation of part of the downstairs area, which, over the years, has variously been used as a studio, an office and a spare bedroom.

It's now a small studio again, an adjunct to the sizeable work table I have upstairs. Shane has done a magnificent job of plastering its ceiling, which continues into the adjoining entrance area, as well as installing art deco ceiling roses and light fittings (the latter sourced in antique markets in the Victorian Goldfields). 

Not shown in these views are the storage cupboard to the left of the bookshelves and two wooden plan cabinets directly opposite. The remainder of our books are now stored on bookshelves in the entrance hall; there's a partial view of them in the above photo. After a recent flood, one of several we've had over the years, numerous books had to be rescued from Shane's studio, the entrance to which is behind the art deco door, in the top photo, right. Fortunately, this time the damage, which at at first looked horrendous, was relatively minimal, and all of Shane's artworks were miraculously unscathed.

Shane also built the heavily laden bookshelves which fill the entire back wall of the revitalised space. A section of them can be seen directly below.

I spent the better part of yesterday tidying up the space, particularly the books, with a little help from Alice. She is seen taking a well earned rest in the following two photos.

On this sunny New Year's Eve morning, it's a good feeling to have the space ready and set to go for 2018.

Artworks on the wall are by Shane Jones, Paul Compton, Priscilla Ambrosini and
Jenny Nestor. The small sculptures on the top shelf of the cabinet are by Shane.
The moth masks on the bottom shelf are by me.

Alice, sitting on the lap of my cushion doll, Elsa (named after her lookalike, the
great Elsa Lanchester. See also below).

On the wall, right, are some of my celluloid and theatrical heroes, including the
Marx Brothers, Margaret Dumont, Charles Laughton, Elsa Lanchester,
Angela Lansbury and Ethel Merman. 

A door closes...

In 2007 I took over a large room in the city of Melbourne that was to be my studio for over four years. Despite the frustration of persistent leaks (how many artists through the ages have had to endure those?) some of the most productively happy times of my life were spent there. Once I was inside, all else but the work fell away. The saga of the mysterious Moth Women, who first saw the light of day in my Abbotsford studio, continued here, and flourished. And here I created The enchanted hair ornaments, the multi-panelled painting which morphed into the fairy tale of the same name - the first story I ever wrote. More recently it was where the Winged Women linocuts and paintings were hatched.

So now it ends. Notice has been given and although I have not quite vacated my studio, it is close to empty and my head and heart are already elsewhere. Last weekend on iPhoto I trawled through some of the umpteen photographs I have taken there over the years, and found I had tears in my eyes. There’s no denying the time is right to move on, but I will take a great many memories with me. I will also be taking the gargantuan spider plant from my little balcony – a living monument to survival against the odds. It was there when I moved in, puny and barely alive. The room had been vacant for some time, and because of the ongoing drought, the plant couldn’t even depend on rain water for sustenance. I’m not known for my green thumb, but having nurtured it back to life (it particularly seems to thrive on washing up water) there’s no way I’m leaving it behind.

Here are some before, during and after shots. As the pictures show, the walls I inherited were in dire need of repainting. I took over the studio in the full heat of summer. My partner Shane (who I can never thank enough, both then and now) came in at night and worked late with me. Hard, sweaty work, but more happy memories. After working for hours in seclusion, stepping out into the buzz of the city on a summer night always gave us a startling, but not unpleasant jolt. Sometimes we’d stop for a cooling beer at an outdoor café on Federation Square to relax and unwind before heading off home.

An old friend is taking over the studio. It’s a solace to know I can still drop in occasionally to visit her, the other artists on my floor, Francine in the office, who has been such a good friend to us all, and my old studio. It’s a shame the owners of this fine old building don’t care about it as much as its tenants do.

Now Shane and I are just about back where we begun, living and working in our place at Abbotsford. But more of this and other developments once I am settled and sorted.