Rooftop archive 9 - early 1990s

Yes, this rooftop archive is pretty big, but it has served a purpose to go through everything that was there taking measurements and photographing past work, and best of all PURGING work that I don't need hanging around to haunt me! I have recently blogged about the archive (installments 7 and 8) here and here. In installment 6 - here - I have also given links to all the previous installments.

As this piece is undated, I am relying on memory and circumstances to suggest that it was either from 1989 or 1990. It was created after my first solo exhibition in Dublin while I was living with my parents in Bray. It is of course based on dream imagery except for the crazy complicated lightning bolts – lightning configurations that I actually saw during a storm in Ontario  in the 1980s! This untitled work hung on my Mum’s bedroom wall (which had been my room when I lived there) for many years and was returned to me after her death in 2016. This untitled, mixed media work is 157 cm x 150 cm.

In either the spring or summer of 1990, I returned to Toronto to be in a group show with nine other young artists. I created the sculptural element of a work to exhibit while I was in Ireland (a trellis table holding a house with a fimo figure dancing among stars who could be viewed through a bay window on the second floor of the house). Behind the sculptural element was this oilstick drawing, Two Waterspouts. Amazingly, I still had the huge roll of Strathmore paper my mentor professor (sculptor Hugh Leroy) gave me while an impoverished art student at York University, Toronto, some years before. I gessoed the paper before drawing the waterspouts, 107 cm x 63 cm. The sculptural element had live roses added to it for the exhibition; that part of the artwork was sold and I do not have any pictures of it! 

I was living in Toronto, perhaps in turmoil, when I drew this work on Oct 20 1991 (very specific date written on the back of the drawing!). Tornado, graphite on paper, 102 cm x 66 cm.

Two mediums I still enjoy a lot are combined in this drawing that I created while living in Toronto in the summer of 1992. Foxglove, oilstick & graphite on paper, 76 cm x 49 cm.

 In the early 1990s I was quite obsessed with stonework and windows in both ecclesiastical and secular ruins around Ireland. I think this obsession started when I was on holiday here in 1992 and visited a friend who had moved to rural Kerry and ruins nearer to where my parents lived on the east coast as well as ruins in Clones, close to where one of my sisters was living at the time. I did large, loose sketches of a number of windows using monotones from acrylic black paint and I later used these sketches as research for a new body of paintings that I entitled My Tower of Strength (taken from the motto on my family coat-of-arms). These painted drawings are all untitled, acrylic on paper, 76 cm x 56 cm (or 56 cm x 76 cm), the specific ruins that they are based on can be found in Clones (a church ruin), 

Kerry (outer wall of Ballycarbery Castle)

and Wicklow (Killadreenan near Newcastle). 

It is only the stonework in the drawing of the church window at Clones that I recognise as making its way into a future painting. 

Rooftop Archive 8

I'm returning now to the so-called "rooftop archives", that is the portfolios and rolls of work that I pulled from the roof in the last few months of 2022 in order to actually see what was there and hopefully do some purging! The purging was successful in that I destroyed a lot of things whose moment had definitely come and gone, including all the chalk pastel cut-outs and drawings that I did while on residency at The Tyrone Guthrie Centre at Annaghmakerrig during the spring of 1989. I talk about about my first solo exhibition in Dublin here, the main reason I was on art residency but since I had most of the work done for the show by then, I spent most of my time winding down and having fun. This link also gives all the other links to previous posts about the "rooftop archives" or simply do a search for them on this blog.

I was surprised to find that I kept the irises as I had already thrown out tulips and roses at some other point! But dry pastel is very messy and I have no plans to ever install this work anywhere again, so it was easy enough to make a "trash" decision.

Though I like the drawings well enough, should I ever want to recreate the installation I would use paint rather than pastel.

I loved working large and freely, but there was no reason for me to keep these works once a picture and measurements had been taken (the rectangular drawings are approximately 100cm x 150cm or 159cm x 100cm).

I had made friends with painter Pat Moran (who I blogged about here) while at Annaghmakerrig and he called my studio “the playroom” as each day for several weeks I did large pastel cut-outs of flowers, whales, dolphins, swans and stars and affixed them to the wall. My studio became a space where my dreams could be immersive. Here is the dream imagery on the walls of my studio at Annaghmakerrig.

I can't remember how I affixed things to the walls -- I don't remember having blue tack, but perhaps I did or else just use loops of masking tape. The size of the cutouts is apparent from the chair and the sink area alcove. The figure caught in the trellis is the same figure which appeared in a lot of work and I associate with myself and the sea (as she turns into a red-sailed boat in the original series of drawings, which I talk about here).

I also made some of the stars green in colour as a nod to American poet Wallace Stevens, whose poem Our Stars Come From Ireland was a poem that I had been obsessed with for a few years by this time. 

At the corner of the room I decided to affix another drawing, mixing land, water and air (flight) together in the same space. Sure the stars had already prepared the way...

The final image in the studio is the rose rain area between the two windows. The next area leads to the start again: the drawing of the swan over the sea leading to the big cut-out swan flying over the flowers at the radiator.

 

Rooftop archive 6: more dreams

In previous "rooftop archive" posts I have discussed selfies and early work here and here, other people's work here, other dream drawings here, and the Tidal Series here, which is more vision than dream and remains a major influence on my work still.

Here is some 80s dream work from the rooftop archive. I have been interested in dreams and psychoanalysis for a long time with a dream diary spanning four decades. Imagery from my dreams is often used as a starting point in both my writing and my visual work. I had picked up a number of oilsticks (as opposed to oil pastels) while visiting my parents in Ireland one year and absolutely loved drawing with them. The diptych of swimming angels was created directly from a dream that reflected my obsession at the time with the Wallace Stevens poem “Our Stars Come From Ireland”. This diptych from 1987 is quite large, each panel measuring 102 cm x 67 cm.

Dolphins often appear in my dreams, and this depiction of them churning up the sea is also a direct dream image. “Dream of Dolphins” measures 82 cm x 66 cm and is also from 1987, when I was still living in Toronto.

When I first moved to Ireland, I lived with my parents in Bray and one of our morning rituals was to discuss our dreams over breakfast. This image of a double bass in the water is related to one of my Dad’s dreams; oilstick on oil paper, 51 cm x 76 cm, 1988. 

This chalk pastel drawing is my attempt at visualising a specific dream of my own. It measures 56 cm x 76 cm and is also from 1988.

In 1988 I worked on a number of oilstick drawings, which were an amalgamation of recurring dream images (ladders, the sea, the red-sailed boat, dolphins) before I finally settled on a theme and medium for my 1989 solo exhibition in Dublin. Ladders to the Sea, 77 cm x 57 cm, is one of these dream amalgamation drawings.

Rooftop archive 4 - dream drawings

Continuing with sorting through the rooftop archive, I took great delight in tearing up loads of life drawing exercises removing the proof that I can draw but really, at this point I hardly need proof! Of more interest to me, and thus kept, are the left-handed drawings I was encouraged to do while studying art at York University in Toronto. I think the following three drawings were from 1984 or 1985 when my professor for independent studies was sculptor Hugh Leroy. They are based on dreams/nightmares and I remember the b&w drawings being exhibited in the display cases of the fine art building at the time.

charcoal on paper, 56 cm x 76 cm

charcoal on paper, 56 cm x 76 cm

charcoal on paper, 76 cm x 56 cm

pastel on paper, 101 cm x 66 cm

Once I had regained my confidence and proficiency with my left hand, I was able to go back to my regular right hand and not be inhibited. I enjoyed using tackier media, such as this dream drawing in crayon, 101 cm x 66 cm, 

And of course, luscious and beloved oilstick!  Along with another two oilstick drawings (no longer extant) the following two works were exhibited on the walls of Calumet College lounge in 1985 as part of a two-person show with my friend Elizabeth Canfield.

101 cm x 66 cm

I didn't hear The Cure song till a few years later, but "A Forest" always made me think of this dream.

101 cm x 66 cm

For previous posts on the rooftop archives, look here, here and here.

inspired by flowers

I always seem to be noticing flowers and admit that I find them inspiring! Wisteria hasn't yet entered my painted repertoire, but I always stop to look at it when I see it. This picture was taken a couple of months ago before the flowers were fully in bloom. I was in Dublin that morning and just had to stop and snap the trained wildness over this doorfront.

My absolute favourite example of the trained wildness that is wisteria is this magical portal here in Bray. I used to live up the street from this house so watched it bloom every year.

This is one of my favourite gardens in Bray, and right next to the wisteria gate is a gorgeous magnolia tree. As the tree is so close to the footpath it was easy for me to do sketches of the flowers in different phases of bloom when I lived so close by.

The result of my sketching that particular tree was this acrylic painting that I did in the spring of 1999 and which was included in my Blessings exhibition at Signal Arts Centre that fall. In 2000 the exhibition was again displayed at Cavan County Museum, Ballyjamesduff. It currently resides in a private collection in the US.

As well as working from sketches and photographs flowers also appear in my dreams. When I lived in rural Kerry in the mid-90s I noticed that many people had beautiful and enormous calla lilies in their spacious front gardens. In fact, I think this may have been my first experience of seeing these flowers other than in pictures and I was quite taken with them. So much so that I dreamt about them, albeit in my dream life the flowers were vibrantly coloured. I made this Father's Day collage card in 1995, and a later riffing on these images painted the curtains that became the main part of my installation Dreaming for Dad, which was created as a memorial for my father (he died in September 1995) and exhibited at The Basement Gallery, Dundalk in 1996.

When thinking of seminal images of my home and life in Kerry for my painting Knockeen, the dream calla lilies made a large appearance. This large painting from 2021 was part of my exhibition Memory Is My Homeland at Rathfarnham Castle earlier this year. 

Sea of Roses

When I first moved to Ireland in the late 1980s, I lived with my parents in their house in the centre of Bray. My room for two years was the middle upstairs room and, unbelievably when I think of it now, it was also my studio. All of the work created for my first solo show in 1989 was drawn and/or painted on the floor between my bed and the fireplace! Sometimes, for very large pieces, I was allowed to take over the house's front room and work on the floor there. In 1989, after my exhibition, I wanted to work very large on an idea inspired by a dream. Sea of Roses, approx 140 cm square, oilstick, 1989.

Even after I left my parents house this large work remained affixed to the wall of the middle room. This room later became my Mum's bedroom after my Dad died and an elder sister with her family moved in. After my Mum's death in 2016 the piece made its way back to me and has been rolled up, taking up space in my studio ever since. At this point the oilstick has permeated the paper (good Canson stock!) making it brittle. It was always destined for purgation, I just had to figure out when and how. In my January clean-up of the studio, my husband set it up to photograph as its time for destruction neared.

There were some scratches through the oilstick medium in different places but otherwise the drawing has held up pretty well over the years.

It was difficult to get the colour nuances, in the roses especially, to show up in the photos.

A picture of the reverse of the drawing, where I signed, dated and titled the piece, shows how the oil has permeated the paper.

I used a ruler to tear up the piece, which took about an hour! I couldn't resist saving about nine of the roses, in their surroundings, as individual keepsakes but otherwise Sea of Roses is now a memory.

Home Project continues...

I've done some more work on the "Home" project. The "House with the Green Door" was the second house I lived in. My family moved there when I was two and we left when I was four but I still have quite a lot of memories from that place! As I mentioned last week, this house was across the road from St Martin's, the school that my older siblings went to. I specifically remember playing in the schoolyard one day, it must have been on the weekend, and I had to climb over a tree that had fallen in the storm the night before (perhaps it was hit by lightning?); I got a splinter in one of my fingers from the tree bark and ran home crying.

With the help of google streetview, I did sketches of all the places (including apartment buildings) but for now I will skip those sketches and jump ahead to my emigration to Ireland in 1988! My parents had already returned "home" five years previously, so were well ensconced. At that time I was still dithering about where I wanted to be, but I lived with my parents in the middle of Bray town on and off for about 2 years.

Then I moved back to Ireland at the end of 1993 with my partner (now my husband). We moved down to rural Kerry in early 1994 and the house we rented, beside a small humpback bridge in a small village, was a renovated traditional cottage. We lived there nearly a year and a half.

Loathe to leave the beautiful Kerry, we found a farmouse to rent near Portmagee. I couldn't sketch it from google streetview as it is not visible from the road! I found this photograph of myself and my husband in the field in front of our yellow farmhouse. The summer of 1995 was a glorious one, and I recall having regular swims in Portmagee Channel (the water and Valentia Island can be seen in the distance. We simply had to go for a walk in the field behind our house and we were upon our own private beachfront.

After my Dad died in September 1995, my husband and I were travelling frequently between Bray and Kerry. It was an exhausting drive in an old banger that could not accelerate to pass rural traffic. We moved back to Bray in the fall of 1996 to a house that was available just a few doors away from my Mum. Being part of the same terrace, this house mirrored my Mum's house, though it didn't have the renovations that my Dad had completed. We lived in this house for a good few years, until our daughter was born in 2002 and we moved to the edge of town - where we have been since!

Home Project!

A couple of months ago I had a dream in which a friend gifted me some prints. I thought the prints quite beautiful and interesting. Both prints seemed abstract, but on closer inspection I realised they weren't. In the first print, overlapping layers of translucent colour were actually house forms, where each house was a different colour. In the second print, I realised the Rorschach-type blob was actually the same as the first print, except instead of translucent colourful houses, each house was printed opaquely monotone, such that only the outline was identical to the first print. I decided I should do these prints and made a sketch.

In thinking about the new project, I also thought the houses should have personal meaning for me and decided that I would research all the places that I have lived. I have lived in 19 different houses during my life, in Ireland and in Canada, for both short periods (1 month) and long (18 years). With the help of Google maps/streetview I began the research sketches of my homes. The house I lived in for the firt 2 years of my life was in "Cabbagetown" (so named because it was a huge area for Irish immigrants) in Toronto. Despite only being a baby and small toddler in this house, I have a surprising number of memories associated with it. Most significantly is the colour of the door: red.

My family, still remaining in "Cabbagetown", moved to a different house. The house with the green door. My siblings went to the school across the road from this house and "Walter's" was the cornershop up the street. Riverdale Zoo was only a block away, as was a cemetery and a playground park. Again, even though I was very young and only lived there for two years, I have very strong, specific memories associated with this house. While my siblings were at school one day, my Mum was watching a "parade" of some sort on tv. Suddenly I realised she was upset and crying. I was three years old. John F Kennedy was shot.

We moved to The Beach (now called The Beaches) in the east end of Toronto in 1964. I grew up in this house, spending the next 18 years there. I moved out for good the year before my parents fulfilled their constant wish - to retire early and return to Ireland.

I still have two more homes to sketch out of the nineteen, but I wanted to have an idea about colour and translucency. Using tissue paper I sketched the houses and started cutting them out (I have always loved cut-outs!).

 After cutting out the houses, the project started to develop legs. I no longer thought of it as solely a print project, but could imagine other media as well.

Starting at the beginning:
The House with the Red Door, oilstick & graphite on wood, 23.5 cm x 15.5 cm.