What I learned

By the end of the day (yesterday) I had learned a few things from my ‘home schooling’. While I missed the exercise of getting to class and the social interactions, I enjoyed the quiet, the space and, especially, not having to pack up after two hours. I was able to concentrate and consider how the eye sees. I spoilt the watering can sketch with too much detail*, but was pleased with the light, shadow and texture of the copper pot. The jug (sideways) was … ho hum. Often when I take photos I am disappointed with the result, which makes me aware of how the eye sees differently from the camera. A sketch or painting, on the other hand, can focus on what the eye – and even the mind – sees.

A day of painting has sharpened my perception of things around me: what pleases me about objects in the house, and the forms and shadows in the garden. It has increased my appreciation of the work of artists – how they fill the frame and use light and shape, and what they are seeing.

Ornaments by Frances Hodgkins, 1942. Gouache on paper, 565 x 384 mm. Auckland Art Gallery Toi o Tāmaki

‘Ornaments’ by Frances Hodgkins is very busy. The domestic objects on the windowsill begin to merge with the wilder outdoors, so that it becomes not just a painting you look at but a conversation inside your head. I know from her earlier work that she is capable of realistic and perfectly proportioned work with correct perspective. That she chooses not to worry about that so much in her later paintings gives a clearer idea of what she is seeing.

I don’t aspire to be Frances Hodgkins (well, maybe I do!) but she is often in the back of my mind when I sketch and paint. I can learn from her.

*This brought back a sharp memory from high school art class where I painted and painted so much on one painting that to me it looked drowned and oppressive. The art teacher (Valerie Heinz, known for her own work) was very nice about it, but I was deeply disappointed. It didn’t match what I saw in my head.

Take a dose of art

Feeling rather depressed by newspaper articles today. One is about working people struggling to pay their bills and to keep warm over winter, and another, from the Washington Post, records the dire effects on people in the US who have lost their public service jobs. I’ve heard that Wellington is quiet these days, with fewer public servants about and, with today being Budget Day, I worry about what further cuts will be made by our government. An elderly man in the first news article commented that this government ‘lacks compassion’. Coincidentally, I’m part-way through a Listener article subtitled ‘How to cope when the world is going crazy’.

Somewhat cheered after Singing for Pleasure this morning at the WEA, I hoped a dip into art might lift my gloom further. This particular piece intrigued me. I noticed it from two flights up when I heard running water and looked for the source. It was in the space under the stairs.

From below, I was able to investigate other features, including the lighting, but also the way the water is directed to each part of the installation. It reminds me of all the plumbing options we considered when renovating the bathroom. I like its playfulness.

The exhibition about our relationship with the land was too sombre, so I revisited the Francis Shurrock exhibition. Traumatised by his World War I experiences, he came to NZ in the 1920s and taught and inspired his students at Canterbury College School of Art – even introducing Morris Dancing. I like this Art Deco piece he did in Oamaru stone, and the bronze sculpture of writer Frank Sargeson by one of his students, Alison Duff. Across the street from the Gallery an Art Deco-inspired block of flats caught my eye.

Perhaps the government will decide art galleries are a waste of space too. But, on further thought, that is unlikely; too many rich people invest in art. Monetary value seems to be what counts when, clearly, art has a value more ephemeral than that. Now I’ve depressed myself again.