Lost - final prints

With many thanks, I received an Agility Award from the Arts Council of Ireland-An Chomhairle Ealaion in the fall of last year for the research and creation of a new series of monoprints Lost. While I began research immediately, the prints didn't start taking shape, ie, I wasn't satisfied with the results, till the beginning of March this year (2023). I have previously posted finished pieces here, here and here and now I will show the final works in the series.

My parents fulfilled their long-cherished dream of returning to Ireland in early June 1983. Since I had grown up with them saying this every year since I could remember (they had emigrated to Toronto in the late 1950s) it was actually a surprise to their children that they actually finally did so. 

Taking a break from packing up their home, monoprint, ink on Japanese mulberry paper, 12.5 cm x 18.5 cm

In the early years, Christmas was an occasion for song, monoprint, ink on Japanese mulberry paper, 18.5 cm x 12.5 cm 

I have many good memories of my best friend's parents who really did treat me like one of their own always making room for me at meals and providing me with a place to sleep when I was homeless. They were also great fun at video film nights, card nights, birthdays and other special occasion celebrations.

 

They were just like second parents but also good friends, ink on mulberry paper, 18.5 cm x 12.5 cm

Although I had lived in several other houses in Toronto in my early years, it was the house on Kingswood, in The Beach area of Toronto, where I spent most of my growing up. The front porch featured in many of the games we played with neighbourhood kids in my childhood. It was also a great place to sit inside on a muggy or stormy summer in the city night and still have a connection to the outdoors.

Young friends described it as a big house, but with twelve occupants, the three bedroom/one bathroom didn’t seem large at all, ink on mulberry paper, 12.5 cm x 18.5 cm

The Toronto skyline has certainly changed a lot since this memory of it from the late 70s/early 80s, before I realised it wasn’t always going to be my city, my home.

Even though the ferry ride took only fifteen minutes, from the islands the city always seemed distant, ink on mulberry paper, 12.5 cm x 18.5 cm

This is the penultimate print from Lost series of contact monoprints and a tribute to my great friend, Jay Dampf, who died far too young, several years ago.

On the long bus journey of the first art school trip to NYC, he brought home-made instruments and led everyone in song, monoprint, ink on Japanese mulberry paper, 12.5 cm x 18.5 cm

I had nearly finished the series when I realised I never posted any in-progress/technique images! So here is the aftermath of making a print for this series. It took many attempts to get this one right (more than any other print) before I was finally happy with the image of mother and child.

She hoped I would smile at the person behind the camera, monoprint, ink on Japanese mulberry paper, 12.5 cm x 18.5 cm, 2023. 

Martin McCann at Rathfarnham Castle

I had really wanted to see Wabi Sabi: the Beauty of Insignificance, an exhibition of paintings and prints by Martin McCann, but couldn't seem to fit it in to my schedule, so I was so glad that the exhibition was extended and I made it to Rathfarnham Castle on the very final day! I love seeing the very different ways that artists respond to the castle and how their work is set up in the gallery spaces of The Dining Room, The Saloon and The Pistol Loop Room. I discuss my own exhibition there last year in numerous posts, just search this blog for Memory Is My Homeland for virtual tours and the work as it progressed.

I think the work is fabulous but recognise that my pictures don’t do justice to the layering and textures. The largest paintings were in The Dining Room. 

 It was lovely to meet Martin at the Castle too, as he was on hand to talk about the work and answer questions. 

Infirmary Road, mixed media on cradled wood panel, 100 cm square

Martin set up all his midsize/smaller works in The Saloon, which allowed for more intimate looking.

A Not So Distant Shore, mixed media on cradled wood panel, 40 cm square 

Aerial #4, mixed media on cradled wood panel, 28 cm square

As I had done for my exhibition, Martin used the much smaller Pistol Loop Room to display all his prints. Gelli monoprint collages were the ideal medium to complement the layering and textures in McCann's paintings.

Inuit Sanauganit: Art Across Time

While I was in Winnipeg (Canada) recently, I went to The Winnipeg Art Gallery-Qaumajuq to see the amazing exhibition Inuit Sanaugangit: Art Across Time. 

The huge exhibition included work by artists spanning from 200 BCE to now, so we decided to start in the smaller, top floor gallery and work our way down. There were a number of sculptures here and walking space around each, in order to view in three dimensions.

The mezzanine-like top floor gallery, allowed me to look down on the main gallery. This view shows only a portion, maybe a third, of what awaited!

The catalogue of work, names and years was far-ranging and included finely decorated weapons, such as this bolus

detailed drawings on horn bone

and utility items such as pipes. It also contained traditional textiles, such as clothing, and I enjoyed earwigging on a school tour to hear some stories and facts related to various works.

This is an enormous exhibition that encompasses Inuit art forms from 200 BCE to now, so it contained traditional older work as well as contemporary work by Inuit artists. 

The catalogue accompanying the exhibition was so huge that it was impossible for me to keep track of new vs old work and artist names.I was always glad of the careful spacing of sculptures, allowing the viewer to see it easily from all vantage points, especially larger ones, such as this, which changed so drastically from one side to the next.

The exhibition included sculpture, drawing, painting, textiles (tapestry and clothing) as well as printmaking. Having recently taken a Japanese woodblock printmaking course. which I blogged about here, I was delighted to see the woodblock displayed with the print allowing me to examine the registration marks and carving techniques. The woodblock carving itself being seen as an artform always makes me think of Canadian artist Paterson Ewen, whose paintings I greatly admire.

more from the "Lost" series

I am still working away on my Lost series of contact monoprints. So in addition to what I blogged about here and here, I am posting more in the series. Because the process can be very random, I can never be quite sure if the print is successful until the final lifting of the paper away from the plate. Sometimes I may have either over-inked or under-inked the plate so I put the print to one side to study if there is anything I liked about it and perhaps make more attempts with the specific image. I have limited myself to three tools for mark-making: a sharp pencil, an eraser and an old credit card. These three tools are giving me crisp sharp lines, soft blurs and sharp areas, respectively. I am very happy with my choices! All of the works are the same size, 12.5 cm x 18.5 cm (or 18.5 cm x 12.5 cm if they are vertical images), printed on Japanese mulberry paper.

Many things went missing from the shared studio

After thirty years abroad, they never regretted their return home

Despite the isolation, we made the place our home

There were only a few occasions when the whole family was together

The kitchen window offered a great view of visitors in the back yard

"Lost" series continues

I have been happily working away on the Lost series of monoprints, a new body of work which I first spoke about in detail here. In addition to being happy with my work, I was delighted to receive the recent news that an image of my "breakthrough" print (the rainy bus image included in that first blog about the series) has been chosen to be included in the spring issue of the US literary journal out of University of Pennsylvania, The Penn Review. In the meantime, here are some more images from Lost.

The kids could play at anything in the back yard, monoprint, ink on Japanese mulberry paper, 12.5 cm x 18.5 cm.

When I was going through the rooftop archives, it was interesting to see that I had attempted, in the late 1990s, to use the gate in front of the house where I lived in Kerry as an artistic motif. I don't think my use of it was successful at that time but it is an image I have come back to. (Look here to see some of the image of the gate from the rooftop archive.)

The gate in front of the house led to a huge field, monoprint, ink on Japanese mulberry paper, 18.5 cm x 12.5 cm. 

Of course, I have used this image before in more recent work - most notably the small linoprints on silk fibre sheets that I made for Memory Is My Homeland (a search of this blog using that title will bring about works in progress as well as a virtual tour of the exhibition at Rathfarnham Castle, Dublin, in 2022).

Field Gate, Knockeen, image size: approx 6 cm x 7.5 cm, sheet size: approx 20 cm x 26 cm, 

It really is just a blink of the eye, monoprint, ink on Japanese mulberry paper, 12.5 cm x 18.5 cm. 

The friends of 1975: where are they now?, monoprint, ink on Japanese mulberry paper, 12.5 cm x 18.5 cm. 

"Lost" - beginning new work

Although the sorting through and purging from the archive of rooftop portfolios and rolls has taken up a lot of my time these past few months, I have also been busy with some new work. In the autumn I received the delightful news that I would receive an Agility Award from The Arts Council/An Chomairle Ealion for my proposal of a new print series Lost. As often happens with new work, I certainly had moments of confusion and despair as nothing seemed to be working the way I imagined. I finally had my breakthrough moment in early February when everything worked as planned and I knew for certain that indeed I had chosen the right medium (contact monoprints) from which to create this new body of work. All of the works are the same size, 12.5 cm x 18.5 cm (or 18.5 cm x 12.5 cm if they are vertical images), printed on Japanese mulberry paper, which is both strong and delicate. The pictures are about memory and refer to lost moments, lost country, lost time, etc. I decided I wanted the titles to give a bit more information about the story behind the image, at least as a starting point.

Even on a rainy day, the bus might be on time

When I was a teen, I went on an amazing government-sponsored youth project, Educanada, which brought teens from all over the country to the capital to learn a bit more about their own country so there were day trips to Montreal, Quebec City, Upper Canada Village near Kingston, as well as local Ottawa tours of the Parliament Buildings, Rideau Hall (Governor General's home), national police headquarters, National Art Gallery, Museum of Civilization, etc. It was great! The thing that really stood out for me, though, was seeing the log booms floating in the Ottawa River past Parliament Hill. It has been many decades since the industry has transported timber this way, hence my inclusion of this image in my Lost series.

Log booms used to float down the Ottawa River past Parliament Hill

This image portrays a memory of my childhood playing with my little brother in the backyard of the house in Toronto’s east end. 

We used to play cowboy games in the back yard

On my first visit to NYC (back in the mists of time when I was at art school in Toronto) one of my friends, who shared a hotel room with me, was dramatising a teenager on the phone and giving me an art history lesson at the same time; I vividly remember that pop art was the topic so I decided to reference Roy Lichtenstein in my title. 

Well, Brad, let me tell you…

I did not meet my grandparents till I was about 9 years old when my family won a St Patrick’s Day competition from a magazine-type tv show in Toronto (as a matter of fact, the show was called "Toronto Today"). The prize was to bring two people over from Ireland for a holiday if you were picked as having the best reason to do so -- 6 of my siblings had not seen their grandparents since they emigrated and 4 of us, Canadian-born, had never even met them -- so we had a pretty good reason to win! I remember before meeting them that summer that I had been incredibly jealous of my friends who had grandparents and especially those who had a grandparent living with them. So when I met my Oma and Opa my adoration was unconditional. Letters that I have from them attest to the fact that they felt the same way. When my grandmother died in 1980, one of my letters to her along with the goodbye card I made for my grandparents, after that first meeting 11 years beforehand, was found in her purse and returned to me.

Although we only met a few times, they loved me and I adored them

I was born into a large immigrant family

Rooftop Archive 3

For previous posts on the rooftop archive, see here, here and here. One of the large portfolios from the roof archive had some large prints that friends had traded or given to me – some even inscribed “Happy Birthday, Lorraine” or “To Lorraine”.

This is an etching my good friend, Elizabeth Canfield created in our final year at CTS art school (1981). Although it is undated, I remember her working on it in the print room. It is the second print of an edition of four and the image size is 60 cm x 45 cm. 

This print is also by Elizabeth Canfield and is an undated photo-etching from when she studied printmaking at York University in Toronto (1982-1986?). It is entitled “The Ride” and is 45 cm x 60 cm. 

This etching is by my friend Jay Dampf (RIP) and is from our final year CTS art school printmaking class. Though unsigned and undated, I remember Jay working on this and giftng me the piece. The image size is 60 cm x 45 cm. 

This is a unique serigraph by Scott Gwilliams, who went to the same art school in Toronto, though in a different year than I. It is entitled “David” and dated 1983 by which time I was attending the fine art department at York University. The diptych image is 50 cm x 70 cm and dedicated to me for my birthday.

rooftop archive 2

 A few months ago I decided to go through a number of portfolios that were in storage on the rooftop section of the attic (the other side of the wall from my studio). I blogged about opening the portfolios and finding things here and wrote about some of the early works here.

Going back a little bit further even, I was pleasantly surprised to see that I had held on to a few prints from CTS art school in Toronto. I think Blue Egg, an undated silkscreen print measuring 70 cm x 59 cm in an edition of 10 (this print is 10/10) is from late 1980 when I was in my third and final year. 

Also from my final year at CTS, though early the following year (1981) is an untitled etching. I did a test print of the linework before I added the aquatint.

 I remembered being teased mercilessly at the time by my friends/fellow art students for always painting and drawing sleeping subjects!

Although I did not pursue printmaking again till decades after art school, for awhile I enjoyed making monoprints - simply painting on the back of zinc plates and pressing them to paper with a wooden spoon as I didn't have access to a press. That summer of 1981 I became obsessed with tulips and I remember creating a series of monoprints of them in the basement of my parent’s house in the wee hours of the morning listening to an old record of Cream on a 1970s space-style Panasonic stereo. I loved the song Deserted Cities of the Heart, both the lyrics and Ginger Baker’s drumming. As I used the same zinc plate, the untitled works were all 38 cm x 28 cm. My good friend and cousin was visiting Toronto that summer and I gave her two from this series to take home with her – they are framed and on her wall in London to this day. Only those two, this one and one other from this series still exist. 

By time winter came along that year, my tulips became stemless and were more abstract. I remember creating this piece while minding a sister’s apt in downtown Toronto. It began as an oil pastel drawing within a matte frame and then I painted the surface with turpentine, so I am not sure how to categorize it (painting or drawing?). Untitled, 40 cm x 23 cm.

Meitheal

From Oct 24 to Nov 6, I took part in the Meitheal exhibition at Signal Arts Centre. Meitheal is an Irish term to describe the coming together of neighbours to assist each other, especially with reference to saving crops or helping out with agricultural tasks. In the context of the arts centre it refers to this group show of staff artists, who have a variety of skills and artistic styles, coming together to create a coherent exhibition. Each artist was invited to exhibit a maximum of five pieces.

I chose to submit the maximum! Two framed pieces from the summer of 2020 when I took part in the combined Aos Dara-Umha Aois symposium and exhibition. I blogged about that here, here and here.

Saplings, acrylic collage, framed size: 58 cm x 44 cm, 2020

Lightning Tree, graphite, framed size: 58 cm x 44 cm, 2020

The exhibition was lovingly hung by two staff members to give each piece its own space and to allow the different works to be in dialogue with each other.

The show consisted of drawing, painting, ceramics and printmaking.

The artists involved were Don Rourke, Lorraine Whelan, Iseult McCormack, Deirdre Maher Ridgway, Dylan Clucas, Dan Laffan, Santa Selina, Lorna Lennon and Kelly Hood.

My contribution to the show also included three blind-embossed prints that I had previously shown in the spring of this year at Rathfarnham Castle. I give a virtual tour of Memory Is My Homeland here, here and here. For further information on works as they progressed, do a search on this blog for the exhibition title, which is the title of the body of work.

Ghost I, blind-embossed print on Fabriano paper, framed size: 30 cm x 29 cm, 2019

Ghost II, blind-embossed print on Fabriano paper, framed size: 30 cm x 29 cm, 2019

Ghost III, blind-embossed print on Fabriano paper, framed size: 30 cm x 29 cm, 2019