drawing tools

I’ve been exploring what there is on my allotment, including all the things I have inherited from the previous owner(s). As well as plants and the structure of beds that contain them (or not!), there are many other objects and materials with potential use to me. The site is a sort of palimpsest, a record of the different layers of activity and lives that have worked the plot.

Rusty old tools, which at first seemed pretty useless, are being put to use at times – if a hammer is a bit rusty it still works as a hammer! I’ve been drawing some of these tools and other objects using my home-made inks. These are made from previously gathered walnuts and oak galls, neither of which I am likely to find on my plot. But I have plans for making inks with things that do grow here.

Drawing really makes me look at the detail of these objects: the nature of the surfaces; the curve of a handle; the structures that make up the forms. It is deep looking and allows for good thinking time.

Publication

One of the key aspects of this project and my involvement in it was that the lead artists would share the process of developing a piece of work with the other participating artists. Everyone has different approaches, strategies and skills for making a work of art. Understanding something of an artist’s tools can be an enriching and inspiring experience, whether they relate to the medium one works in or not.

Working ‘in residence’ in the library and having direct contact with participants was an obvious way to share experience and knowledge. Writing about the development process is accessible to those involved in the project but potentially might reach a much wider audience. The text that makes up this recent series of blogs is now transferred onto the physical page in a publication called Unknown Book, thus forming a tactile record of the project. The book is available to buy here. I have also taken the opportunity to share something of the process of putting together the publication itself.

Unknown Book is number six in an on-going series of self-published works, each one recording a specific project I have undertaken. These books are bought by people from all corners of the earth and many who haven’t seen the physical work but who are interested in knowing something of it. The books I publish are part exhibition catalogue but they also contain some sort of explanation about the processes involved in making the work. They are a means for me to share my work on a level that is beyond just presenting a ‘finished’ piece of work in a gallery.

Anyone can self-publish and that process has become very easy in recent years with various approaches, including on-demand printing. There are also different ways of promoting the self-publication and if it is something you might consider I would suggest giving that some serious thought: If you are going to spend money on producing a whole load of books you need to be confident that you can sell them. I didn’t set out to become a publisher, but after the first two books I realised it was something I wanted to continue doing and that it might become a significant part of any project I undertake. It also provides me with a ‘product’ that I can sell at a reasonable price and this takes some of the pressure off feeling that I have to make ‘sellable’ work. I bought some ISBN numbers and thus became a publisher – it sounds far grander than it actually is! You don’t have to have an ISBN number to publish but it does mean (in the UK) that the British Library and the Legal Deposit Libraries collect copies. There is a certain legitimacy associated with this, which isn’t necessary but it also means that you can claim a share of royalties via organisations such as the Design and Artists Copyright Society (if the publication includes your own images). So it costs you a bit but there are benefits.

Each time I have self-published a book I have learnt something new, which feeds into the next publication. These are some of the things I have learnt or found useful:

I have developed a relationship with a local printer who has an environmental policy I am happy with (this is something particularly important to me) and who I feel I can talk to without needing to know a huge amount about the publishing and printing industry – I can ask a stupid question and not feel stupid!

I now know the sort of paper finish I like but also what the implications of that are for my images and the environment.

I have a format that works for me and has been consistent through the different books.

I have picked up the basic skills I need to layout a book and get it how I want it to look. Keeping things simple and clear is a benefit.

I do my own photography for the books and I am always looking to learn ways to improve that.

I understand the timescale needed by the printers so I can build that into my work on a project. This means that if the book is associated with an exhibition I may need to have the publication ready to go to the printers before I have finished making the work.

I have a fairly loyal following via social media, through my blog and from exhibitions, which means that I am confident that over a period of time there will be enough demand for a new book to justify the outlay.

The experience I have gained through producing these self-published books is part of the reason I was invited to be a lead artist on this project. The different parts of my practice are all interlinked and one thing leads to another…

In Residence

My first couple of days working ‘in residence’ in the library provided a really focussed period of work on the project. I brought the starting points I had developed, along with sketches, photographs and notes to show any interested participants or members of the public. The ‘big book’ was brought down from the collection to sit on my worktable and provide an important proximity to my working process.

I continued to work on the book units, having now identified the exact dimensions to make. I wasn’t working any differently to how I would in my own studio, but being in the library itself provided a focus and impetus to my making and thinking. The library had been asked to collect together any papers or books that would have been otherwise discarded so that I could potentially incorporate them into my work. The range of these was slightly disappointing, but was enough to start exploring possibilities. The lovely library staff found me a tin of old library stamps and some inkpads, which I played with on the surface of some of my book units.

About a month later I had a second residency session, again working in the library in an intensive way and exploring further the use of withdrawn publications in my book units. This time in the library also allowed for participants in the project to visit and talk about what I was doing, as well as the development of their own work for the project. That sharing of process, thinking and development between the artists involved is a key part of this whole venture. Those discussions are so important for artists to have with their peers or mentors, partly as a means of over-coming problems (that you sometimes didn’t even realise were there), but also in a spirit of support and understanding. Even just describing what you are doing or trying to achieve to someone else can solidify things in your own mind and provide a way forward or even just a confirmation that the approach you are taking is right.

 

Making (decisions and books)

Having made certain decisions about what I was going to concentrate on (book structures as ‘units’, exposed stitching, split sections, fragments of cover, staining, page edges) it was now time to experiment with those details. I sampled different possibilities, identifying exact scale and dimensions and finalising how the work would be presented. These areas were explored alongside each other to some extent. I identified a type of acrylic box divided into units that would sit well within the standard library shelves. I wanted my work to be shown on the shelves, whether that was in amongst the normal book collection or in a gallery space within the library. This acrylic unit (about the scale of a large book) would encase my little books, keeping them safe from disruption by library visitors, whilst enabling viewing from both sides. That containment would also echo the string-bound big book, which cannot be opened: my little books will not be open-able either. The divided acrylic unit had a suggestion of the exposed spine of the big book, which is divided into an uneven grid by the lines of stitching in one direction and the split sections that make up the thick volume in the other. I could fill one of these gridded boxes, or 3, or any number, depending on how long it would take me to make the book units to go within.

Unidentified Book

This is the second in a series of posts about the Fifth-Sized Book Adventure. For the rest of October I will be posting every couple of days about this project, explaining how I have created my contribution to it. My role in the project includes sharing my process of developing work, for the participants on the project, but I also wanted to make this available to anyone else who might be interested in following that journey.

Having listed (in a previous post) some of the qualities that interested me about the Fifth-Sized Book collection, I realised that it was the physical nature of the books that I was interested in. How could I choose a particular book because of subject? That approach wouldn’t be right for the way I work. I am interested in the materiality of things. It was the way that the books had changed over time that really grabbed my attention: the way that page edges or corners had become scuffed with use or marked by contact with hundreds of people’s fingers and exposure to light; the torn and worn covers or those missing parts of their covers; the marks made by institutional stamps that were now integral to the pages, recording a history of ownership, use and classification.

One particular book stuck in my head after that first visit to the library. It was a chunky volume, sitting on a shelf amongst different sized books. Its spine was missing, leaving the stitching on the inside of the spine exposed and showing how the thick book had split into three sections. The whole volume was tied untidily with old string to keep the sections together. This binding and the loss of the spine cover meant that there is no way of knowing what the subject of the book was.

On my second visit I made straight for this volume, confirming my gut reaction that this was the book upon which I should focus my work. This seemingly very old book was a most intriguing object and by not knowing what its pages held it would remain for me an object whose physical state greatly interested me.

When this book is touched it leaves a mark on your fingers and any clothes or surfaces it comes into contact with. What remains of the leather cover is breaking down into a powdery brown dust. The exposed stitching on the spine is clogged with residue of the glue that previously held the cover on. Some sections retain fragments of the spine cover, with one small area showing blue with embossed gold detail, like a glimpse into the book’s previous state.

coastal

Alice_Fox_Staithes_to_Runswick

Last week was a working week away from home on the North Yorkshire coast: a week of walking, reading, thinking and developing work towards my Findings exhibition; a week of changing weather, windy cliff-tops, cold fingers on the beach, fossils and falling cliffs, stunning views…

Alice_Fox_limpet_inside upside-down limpets, marks on rocks left by limpets, pebbles and pellets…

Alice_Fox_Staithes_limpet_ring_on_rock

mud underfoot (and half way up the trousers), mud on woven thread, mud trails left by periwinkles at low tide…
Alice_Fox_Staithes_periwinkle_trails

As ever, there are more images here.

findings

Alice Fox 25 broken limpets

Anyone who follows me on Instagram (where I post images almost daily) will know that I am starting to develop new work based on a series of collections of objects. Ultimately I am working towards an exhibition at the Knitting and Stitching Shows 2016, which I’m really pleased to have been selected for. My working title is Findings. I have been developing ideas for this over some months now, thoughts whirring away in the background while other things happen. Findings will be a series of responses to objects I have collected in different locations.

Finding:

1. the action of finding someone or something.

2. information discovered as the result of an inquiry or investigation.

Alice Fox limpet variations

The first group of objects I am exploring are a collection of limpet shells I brought back from Anglesey in the summer. I didn’t collect the complete shells: it was the ones with holes in that I was drawn to and I came back with a couple of hundred of these. I love the subtle variation in a series of items like this: they’re similar but all unique. Some are really worn down and smooth; others are rough and intricately mottled; some have a jagged broken top; others are almost perfectly smooth rings. I’ve been experimenting with replacing the broken section with a stitched/woven ‘patch’.Alice Fox limpet 'mended' Some of them end up mended completely, others partially filled. Some are being filled in across the inside, leaving them with a sort of woven plate across that reminds me of the limpet’s ‘foot’.

Alice Fox limpet with stitchweave1

As I work away at these experiments (inquiries, investigations. . . ) the results are starting to form a new collection: a collection of my Findings.

collections

Alice Fox beachcombing

During the half term holiday I was away with my family on the west coast of Scotland. I’ve been coming to these parts all my life and I can feed off a visit like this creatively for months and more. Although the weather wasn’t brilliant it was easy to be on the nearby beach every day, at least for a brisk walk, and at most for a leisurely afternoon playing games, cooking and pretending it was a bit warmer than it actually was.

Alice Fox collected objects

As ever, I came home with a head full of thoughts, images and ideas and a box full of ‘things’ to continue that process with. Now my little collection is laid out in my studio and slowly I’m getting to know the various objects.

review

Alice Fox recent work

I’ve just spent a really inspiring and thought-provoking weekend with the Textile Study Group, of which I am now a member. We meet twice a year to learn together and this weekend we had Lesley Millar with us to guide our study and discussion. Members of the group are given a professional review every five years and, being new, I was included in the rota of reviews this year. I had a very worthwhile session with our mentor Jane McKeating, which as left me with a lot to think about. We discussed my recent work and future direction and developments. Selecting the most relevant work to bring together for something like this is a useful exercise in itself. To have it looked at by fresh (and such experienced) eyes is a little daunting but so useful. I feel very lucky to be a member of such an interesting and active group of artists where sharing, developing and educating (of others and each other) is so embedded.

By the way, if you wish to vote for me in the 2015 Craft & Design Magazine Selected Maker awards you can click on the badge on the right or go here. Voting is open until 31st March and you can vote for as many of the makers as you want to.

space

Alice Fox studio experiments

I suddenly have some space to start exploring new ideas, or rather ideas that I’ve been having over the last year but not had the time to engage with. The book I’ve been writing is now finished, or at least delivered to the publishers. There will be editing and tweaking to do but the majority of it is complete. The last year has been pretty much focussed on the book and touring Tide Marks, alongside a fairly hectic workshop teaching schedule. Apart from finishing off my report to Arts Council England for Tide Marks, that is now complete too. So, what is next? I have a number of projects to be getting on with. There are various group exhibitions next year that I will be making work for, so what follows is a period of development of new work. This is exciting and daunting. Where to start is always an issue. The best things is to get in the studio and see where things get to. So often we are forced (by time constraints) to commit to an end point before we’ve hardly started. It is a challenge to allow things the space and time to develop without knowing what that end point is going to be.