Michael Autumn

Category: Royal College of Art (RCA)

  • David Hockney RIP

    David Hockney (1937-2026), may he rest in peace, is one of the very, very, few artists I like and admire. He and I seem to be in the minority – in thinking that the main purpose of art is to be a source of joy. There is so much unjoyful art (putting it as kindly and politely as I possibly can!) these days that it makes me cringe, and makes me weary about calling myself an artist – least I be tarnished with the same brush (if you’ll pardon the pun…) and prejudice…

    His artwork was far more substance than BS. So many contemporary “artists” are all BS and no substance – indeed this is what “art college” seems to encourage in recent decades – and this is why art is at its worst point in history – at its nadir. They believe it’s all about the concept/idea/s – it doesn’t matter what it looks like or how well executed it is. We totally disagree. Art that would be displayed in no place other than a modern art gallery/museum – because no sane person would have it in their home – is not art at all – its rubbish, pure and simple. Art – that most people who didn’t know who had created it would think it had been created by an unskilled child – is not art at all – its rubbish, pure and simple. Art that only exists in the minds of a very few very “learned” “art critics” (who make their living by bigging-up crap art – and often inventing “meaning” that was never there) – is not art at all – its rubbish, pure and simple…

    David Hockney was a very deep thinker, immensely skilled artist, fabulous colourist, unpretentious, and worked all is life doing what he enjoyed doing – exploring new ways of seeing and bringing joy to people. May he rest in peace, and may history bring forth more like him…

  • I did not get into the RCA: is that a good or a bad thing?!

    After all the trouble the applicants go through to apply, to put a portfolio together, the logistics of sending their portfolio in and collecting it (mine was very big: I had to make a portfolio case because you can’t buy them as big as I needed, and I had to hire a van) – if we are unsuccessful, is it asking too much to be informed why?

    Was it that they felt they had no one in the department who knows enough about digital art, digital and analogue photography, and natural digital painting – the areas I am particularly interested in? Do they even recognize this as a valid art form? Do they appreciate the amount of effort and skill involved in this art form? Are they relatively new to computing, and is their perception of computing so naive thet they think anything done using computers is easy? Is it just too new for them and do they feel they couldn’t support me at a sufficiently advanced level?

    Of course it could have been that the selection panel’s consensus of opinion of my work was simply that it wasn’t good enough and showed no potential or promise. Or it could have been that with only forty-five places available, they simply considered that there were at least forty-five other applicants who were better or more deserving than me? I have no idea.

    One thing we were told at the Open Day was that they were looking for applicants who showed a certain “need” or incompleteness: students who weren’t entirely sure where they were going. As soon as I heard this I started to doubt my chances… I am not in the least unclear about the art I am creating. This selection policy is at odds with scientific and social science disciplines (and almost certainly the other arts) – where academic establishments select the best on merit – i.e. those with the most promise, the most talent, and the clearest vision. What is wrong with being clear?! Surely the best artists are clear about what they are trying to achieve?!

    Now that the whole process is over and I am no longer trying to get a place at the RCA, I can speak my mind freely. First of all I am not in the least bitter about the rejection – a bit disappointed yes, but not bitter. In fact it takes a huge weight off my mind – the pressure of how to finance it. I confess I was hoping to go there mainly for the kudos, and to have the time to explore new things. I certainly don’t feel I need direction, and if the selection panel think someone else would benefit more from studying there than me – that is their prerogative.

    However, it does answer a few questions that I had… I spoke to a number of students on the Open Day and not one of them seemed to know what they were doing – artistically. One second-year student was really quite stressed out by it, and I really felt for her. What do they expect if they select students who don’t know what they are striving for?!

    It wasn’t all bad: on the Open Day some of the graduate illustration and animation work we were shown (via the internet) was excellent – but then it would be if you pick the best of the last few years?

    The exhibition of work-in-progress was outstandingly bad. It is no exaggeration to say that the whole exhibition wouldn’t have looked out of place in a secondary, or even primary, school art display. There was no display of talent, care, or pride of work (with the exception of some of the textile work). My jaw dropped when I saw it. With utter disbelief I said to myself “Is this the best of the best…?”

    If this is what is taught in art colleges, if this is the standard that art students are molded into producing and praised for – then that answers the fundamental question I have with modern art: why is the vast majority of it so bad, shoddy, poor in work-person-ship and professionalism, and almost irreverent? Are the lecturers so embroiled with theory and the quest for originality – almost at any cost – that they have lost sight of what art is about? Art is not about pandering to novelty-seeking academics – who are so caught up in art history and theory that they long for new ideas to muse and pontificate about. Art is for society, it is a public discipline, and as such is judged by the majority – by the public. If it doesn’t communicate with the public in a positive way at some level then it has failed. Period.

    A word of advice to aspiring artists, and you can take it or leave it. Academics are not wealthy people. They will not buy your work, or if they do, you will not get much from them for it. Think about who your buyers might be, and consider them, not you tutors, when producing work… If you get a first class degree or some other qualification and nobody buys your work because it is so obscure and inaccessible…

    In closing, I would say about the buildings themselves, that they in no way lend themselves to art. They would be better used as offices or a prison: totally uninspiring and with very poor natural lighting. I don’t think I could have spent much time there…

    I am not sure why the RCA has the kudos it undoubtedly has. What does this say about “lesser” art colleges…?

  • Royal Academy of Art Summer Exhibition 2007 – here we go again!

    The Royal Academy’s Summer Exhibition is the largest, and possibly oldest, open contemporary art exhibition in the world. Although it is meant to be only for living artists (established or unknown), last year one of its’ dozen or so gallery rooms was devoted entirely to a recently deceased Royal Academician – a tad unfair, you might think, for all the struggling living artists out there. Royal Academicians are not graduate students of the college – as you might expect – they are a self-elected, self-governing, board: new members by invitation only…

    Without exception the Summer Exhibition has been held annually since the Royal Academy’s foundation in 1768. An essential part of the London art calendar, the show drew over 150,000 visitors in 2006 and over 1200 works were included (out of about 9000+ submissions). Following long Academy tradition, the exhibition is curated by an annually rotating committee – whose members are all practising artists.

    The majority of works are for sale (with a commission going to the RA) and there are a few private viewing days before the exhibition opens properly to the general public – where private members – including the rich and famous, and art collectors (not necessarily mutually exclusive groups) get the best pickings…

    There will be a BBC2 television programme about it that will be aired just before the opening (last year was the first time they did this in the Summer Exhibition’s entire history).

    There are numerous prizes for different genres and one for the overall best-in-show – the value of which is £25,000. This is more than the Turner Prize, but not as prestigious. It’s all down to PR, and the RA is not as good as the Tate at this. It would be much more interesting if the prizes were decided by public vote (alas they are decided by the Academicians), because I think art ultimately has to stand up to public scrutiny. Indeed, I think it is exactly because so much art is not voted on or directly selected by the public that we get such a skewed selection of art in galleries these days – in favour of the new and out-landish – rather than what is good – in some democratic aesthetic…

    Royal Academicians have the right to exhibit up to six pieces – they do not have to go through a selection process – so in effect there are only about 600 slots available for about 8000+ submissions – quite competitive. Non-Academicians can submit up to three pieces each at a cost of £18 each.

    This year entry forms have to be in by 23rd March, works have to be submitted by early April (glazed works have to be submitted on different days to non-glazed works – which can be annoying if you want to submit both – it means two trips; sculpture is a month later), and notifications of acceptance or rejection are sent out by 1st June. The Summer Exhibition itself this year is from 11th June until 19th August.

    At this stage of my career I consider it essential to try to exhibit at the RA. Last year was my first attempt and I was fortunate enough to have one of my three submissions selected (Depth Of Tulip Field). This was no mean feat because despite what they say – the Royal Academy is quite a conventional art institution. Radicalism comes from the new – not the old… It was no mean feat because my work was a digital art print – quite a new thing for the Academy. It was hung in a gallery room devoted to contemporary art, alongside work by Damien Hirst, Tracey Emin, Grayson Perry – to name a few of the best known contemporary contemporary artists. I could complain about the fact it was hung too high to see all the detail in it (a very important aspect of the work), and about the fact it was tucked behind the exit boarding where you couldn’t see it when you entered the room – but I’m thankful it got exhibited at all – so I won’t 🙂

    This year’s theme is “Light” (there is a loose theme every year. Last year it was “From Life”). I have three pieces that I will probably submit which are broadly on that theme: Pregnant Reflections, Lindisfarne Walled Garden, and Times Square (all are featured on this blog site). I doubt very much if I will have time to finish any new work between now and then (now I am back doing computer consultancy to help pay for the RCA course which I hope to get accepted on…).

    There is some tradition associated with the Summer Exhibition – as you can probably imagine of an old English institution (something we seem quite fond of) – not least of which is the Artist’s Hanging Day. All successful artists are invited to attend a day at the academy (the day before the official opening) – ostensibly to tend to their hung works and to make any last-minute adjustments. While this may have been a serious professional, competitive, artistic matter in years gone by – today is it really just a party and celebration for the artists.

    On Hanging Day morning last year – and I think the format is the same every year – we gathered in the forecourt of Burlington House (home of the Royal Academy of Art since 1867), amid the joyful, smiley, sounds of calypso steel-drums (the music is possibly not the same every year!). At about 11-15 a.m. a senior-looking priest (in age and probably importance also) – with a big cross in hand – and his entourage – headed out of the forecourt, through the archway, and then turned left down Piccadilly. There was no announcement of what to do, and I for one didn’t really know what was happening. However, I followed all the other (presumed) artists – following the priest and his entourage.

    Soon there was a long stream of us with television and still cameras tracking us, walking out of the forecourt, under the arch, and then left down the middle of Piccadilly – where the traffic had been blocked off – just for us! It was a great feeling to have that little special moment with the world looking on (probably wondering what the hell was going on, and as for the stopped drivers – I bet they had a few choice words…). All this was helped by the fact it was glorious sunny day!

    It was just a short jaunt along Piccadilly before we turned right and headed into Wren’s favourite church – St. James’. I had never been in there before (much to my surprise) and therein gathered a colourful collection of happy, proud, fellow artists. The Service for Artists that followed, was, as you might have guessed, about art and artists – aimed at artists. There was a particularly eloquent sermon – more like a learned lecture – from the leader of the procession (who was also an eminent professor), on the subject of the meaning of art and how its’ meaning has changed over history. There was singing, poetry, and prayers. At the risk of sounding un-cool, in all honesty it was a very enjoyable and quite a poignant service – especially in such a beautiful setting.

    Afterwards, Piccadilly restored to its normal hustle and bustle, we made our way back to Burlington House (along the pavement!), and then we headed for the gallery rooms. At the entrance we were handed an official exhibition catalogue and an artists’ pass. I anxiously thumbed through catalogue – which for me was the final proof that I had got in – looking for my name. I went to the artist index, and, low and behold: I saw my name! It was even spelt correctly! (I was a bit concerned to find it had my address on it – a bit worrying from security point of view.) I then looked up my work, and there it was: number 1013, Depth of Tulip Field. Wow!

    In the gallery we were free to explore the exhibition and indulge in free drinks and quite tasty nibbles – which were being continually offered to us by Eastern-European looking and sounding men and women (mostly). It was a buzzing atmosphere – literally we were like bees in a beehive – with the anxiety and nerves and curiosity of findings one’s work. I didn’t just want to go off and rush to find my work: I wanted to stroll around the exhibition and stumble on it. I wanted it to find me, as it were. I was happy to take in the atmosphere, watch the other artists, chat with a few of them, drink, nibble – take my time…

    Eventually, right at the very end of the exhibition, in a small room of no more than twenty works, rather disappointingly tucked behind the exit boarding and hung much too high – I found her. I looked at it from the few angles it could be seen and couldn’t suppress my disappointment. In just about all the other galleries the pictures were hung much lower – in fact as many works as possible were squeezed in (albeit tastefully). But not in this room: there was plenty of space beneath my piece, but someone in their wisdom decided it should be high up! I wandered around for quite a while trying to find an official to see if I could get the picture lowered. When I eventually found someone I was politely told that it was up to the hanging committee. As soon as I heard the word “committee” I knew I was wasting my time… In the room where my work was I was pleasantly surprised to discover I was in good company – Damien Hirst, Tracy Emin, Grayson Perry, and some Royal Academicians. It wasn’t all bad. I left with a mixture of elation and disappointment…

  • Phew! Portfolio submitted to the RCA. Now it is an anxious waiting game…

    It didn’t help the fact that the Open Day I decided to go on was the last one of the two-month season – prior to formal applications being required to be submitted (all departments have different Open Day dates because they are sharing the same space and resources). Prior to the Open Day on January 11th, I didn’t even know I wanted to study at the RCA, or whether I would have any chance of being accepted – not having any formal art qualifications. So on deciding that I most definitely did want to study there and that I did have an albeit slim chance of being accepted – this left me three weeks, a), to get my application in by the 22nd of January; b), to get my portfolio together from scratch – and write it up – by the 31st of January; and c), to get paid work to finance the course (if I am lucky enough to be accepted).

    I’m guessing, but I suspect most art graduates – the majority of people applying for the MA courses at the RCA? – would already have a portfolio and all the supporting documentation. Of course little old me didn’t even have prints ready (unframed) – and so I had to print them all out (a two-day exercise in itself because they are so large). I decided to submit eight pieces: 6 large-scale digital art works (they are all on this blog), a digital print from a very poor 26-year-old photograph of an oil painting I did when I was nineteen (the only example of a painting I have!); and a black-and-white pen-and-ink drawing I did about twenty-four years ago – to show what, if any, drawing ability I have…

    I started some temporary IT consulting contract work last Monday (22nd January – some two hundred miles from where I live) – which left me evenings and the last two weekends to do all my writing up and preparations. So that I can continue with my art and related work while away from home, I ordered an Apple MacBook Pro, Cintiq pressure-sensitive computer screen, and two 500 GB external drives – which thankfully all arrived punctually by last weekend (20th January).

    I spent some time making the documentation look professional, with a consistent style and presentation, and included several small detail images to support and illustrate the text. I completed the final print-outs of the documentation this morning, packaged everything up in a huge make-shift portfolio case (portfolio cases aren’t made large enough for my work, so I had to make one from the packaging of some large aluminum honeycomb sheets I purchased last year. It measured approximately 2m x 1.5m x 6cm, or 66″ x 50″ x 2″. I had to cut it down a bit so I could fit it in my wide car, but obviously it had to be wide enough to avoid the folding of any of my larger pieces.). It was with much relief that I personally delivered it to the RCA portfolio room just before midday today (I was taking no chances with postal services).

    I probably couldn’t have done a much better portfolio or write-ups. I’ve given it my best shot. Announcements are made by the 2nd March as to whether you have succeeded in getting through to the next interview stage. It’s out of my hands and now it’s an anxious waiting game…

  • Financing a two year MA course at the RCA

    If you are young and have possibly just graduated, your out-goings are likely to be relatively small – and so a bursury that pays your fees and maintenance might be enough to get by for the two years of the course. However, I am not young, I have a family and a big mortgage, and loans to pay back (money I borrowed to set up as an artist/photographer). Moreover, I probably wouldn’t qualify for a bursary – which is tiny in the scheme of my finances! Consequently not earning any money for two years is for me an altogether different proposition…

    To that end I will have to go back to doing some IT consultancy, and I am going to have to earn as much as I can between now and October – when the course starts. This will involve me being away from home during the week. At the weekends I will want to spend some time with my family – which leaves little or no time for art. However, I have a cunning plan: if I buy an Apple laptop, a small Wacon Cintiq pressure-sensitive computer screen, and some fast external drives (one to work on and one for backup) – then I would be able to work in the evenings while I am away – which would otherwise be dead time. This is a very expensive option, but essential for my art: I want to prepare three new pieces for this year’s Royal Academy Summer Exhibition, and I still have a big backlog of work to finish – to say nothing of starting new work…

    This all suposes I get accepted on to the course! But I have to make plans now – the outcome of the application will not be known until April…

    Do I think I’ll be accepted? I really have no idea! I’m not sure what they are looking for, I’m not sure if they will value my type of photographic/computer art. I’m not sure about the best way to put together a portfolio – and having quite large work makes transporting and presenting it difficult. I’ll just have to wait and see.

    The first part of the selection process involves reviewing the application and the portfolio. The outcome of this will be sent out by March 2nd 2007. The second part (if you get that far!) is an interview – the outcome of which is send out by April 2nd 2007…

  • This piece of paper could affect the rest of my life…

    Having decided that I really would like to study at the Royal College of Art (RCA), I am now faced with the daunting task of actually applying! I have the application form in front of me and have started to fill it in, and the stark realisation has just hit me: what I put down on these pieces of paper could affect the rest of my life…

  • Should I study at the Royal College of Art (RCA)? Part. 2

    Yesterday I went to the Open Day for Communication Art & Design at the RCA. It was the first time I had been there, and I have to say I was deeply unimpressed and disappointed with the buildings. They are clearly not purpose-built, and in no shape or form reflect what they are used for. This is a great shame. Obviously there is little or no money for the buildings themselves. However, I think the school should be temporarily re-housed, demolished, and some really impressive building/s erected to replace them – buildings that symbolize art, architecture, design and creativity – especially considering that the college is, among other things, a leading school of architecture and design! The buildings are neither inspiring nor an attractive place to study or work in, and this must affect the people who work there… Some wealthy alumni, industry, and some other funding bodies – should dig deep into their pockets to help make its’ look reflect its’ prestige and purpose…

    There was an exhibition of work-in-progress in various spaces in the buildings, which I had a quick look around before the itinerary started. Works-in-progress are quite daring because I’m not sure many artists or creative people themselves would want others, particularly the public, to see what they haven’t yet finished? Maybe I’m alone in this regard, but if I spend hundreds of hours finishing something, perfecting it – it is because I am not happy with it in some way (otherwise it would be finished?) – so the last thing I want as for others to see it… Yes, it was good for us pretenders to get a feel of what the students do there – and I guess this is the main purpose of the exercise…

    We congregated in the lecture theatre and the Open Day “formally” began. The teaching staff sat at the front of the stage in a lecture theatre and spoke very eloquently, unscripted, discussed and showed examples of what previous students had produced – both while they were studying here and what they are doing now . Different members chipped in here-and-there, and there was no vying for space or clashing of egos. It all ran very smoothly and their passion and interest shone through. I very quickly got a good vibe. I was very impressed with the teaching staff: they all seemed very informal, relaxed, friendly, welcoming, creative, and they seemed to gel well together as a team. A very encouraging discovery was that all the staff are practicing artists, designers, illustrators, animators, film/video makers, etc. (and most are very successful in their own right) – indeed they have to be to teach there. So please completely discount the doubting comments about teachers in my previous blog!

    The clear message they put across is that in studying here there are no boundaries between the different disciplines – illustration, design, animation, film/video, sound, communication, photography, and typography – and that multi-discipline work and collaboration are positively encouraged. The amount of set work is small and largely based on how much they feel each individual needs it – which is good – because I don’t feel I need that!

    There is an ecological aspect to some of the art and practices of the college and this is positively encouraged – something that I am very much in favour of. While they respect the old and traditional techniques and materials – they embrace the new as well. They seem acutely aware of art’s role in both reflecting and shaping society – so it is always changing – and there is strong emphasis on the philosophical/theoretical aspect of art – something very important to me. It is good to know that students have to submit a dissertation on this.

    Selection is very largely based on merit – and formal qualifications in art, illustration, animation, etc. are not exclusively and invariantly required – which gives me a glimmer of hope – because I don’t have any! The key selection criteria are one’s portfolio, a demonstration of commitment, professionalism, and interest. But they are also looking for a need to develop and explore… Several staff members evaluate each portfolio and supporting documentation, and a decision is collectively made. So there are no brick wall obstacles to me applying – which is great!

    I had a look around the design studios and met and had a chat with some of the students. The work environment was pretty much as you would expect – no great shakes – and it was apparent that many of the students were on a voyage of discovery and experimentation. There was a lot of collaborative working and cross-discipline projects.

    I was also able to have a chat with the head of department and explain my situation to him. I mentioned I had had a piece of my work shown (and sold) at the Royal Academy last year, and when he asked me to describe it to him – seeing his notebook on the side I said I could show it to him on the internet. (This is the amazing thing about the internet – you can take art, animation, and music virtually anywhere!) He was a good listener and came across as having time for people – very useful for people management… And the fact he is a practicing artist himself made the discussion flow really easily. I think no harm, and only good, could come from his, and the rest of his staff’s, experience and guidance…

    I guess if nothing else, the MA says you have practiced art at a high standard, and have thought quite thoroughly about art, and had your art critiqued, for two years – not an insignificant amount of time…

    It could be argued that I have been creating art in isolation for many years – which has given me a fairly distinct style and technique. I consider myself extremely lucky in that I have never being short of inspiration and always seem to have a back-log of work I want to do. All the more reason that during the Open Day it was very refreshing to see so many interesting pieces in many mediums – including mixed media – and to have had several opportunities to share ideas with fellow artists. Indeed I came away from the RCA with my head literally buzzing with new ideas. I realised that this is possibly the single most important benefit of studying there…

    Do I want to study art at the Royal College of Art? I better get my portfolio and notes together: January 31st is the closing date for submission…

  • Should I study at the Royal College of Art (RCA)?

    The Royal College of Art (RCA) in London is one of the (if not the) pre-emminent schools of art in England, and probably the world. I am wracked by a comment made by Anita Zabludowicz (a well-know art collector and museum patron. No connection – I just happened to be sitting next to her) during a conversation we had on a flight to New York. I asked her something along the lines of: what, in her view, makes a good artist, or was it: how does an artist become well-known? She said that one of the most important considerations is where they studied. She followed this up by singling out the RCA…

    So there I was, back in 2002, flying out to New York on an artistic/photographic trip, sitting next to one of the most influential art collectors in the world, at a point in time I was feelng really good about my art and making it to the top, without any formal qualifications in art or photography – and feeling I didn’t need or want them. And then this bolt from the blue… Up until that point I rather naively thought (and still do to a certain extent) that “good” art stands on its own? You look at a picture, and possibly also read about it – the artist’s intentions and motivation for doing it – and you decide if it is a), likeable, and b), interesting? Simple? If Bacon and Van Gogh could succeed as self-taught artists, then why can’t I…?

    From a very early point in my artistic development – back when I was a teenager – I was producing art with meaning. Yes, I wanted/want to create beautiful, eye-catching, work – but I felt art was a means of expression also. After all, I could just take a photograph of something if all I was interested in was to reproduce what it looked like? From my early beginnings I had decided that it was important to write about my work because I think art works on two levels: the purely visual, superficial, instant reaction, dimension (the one most people respond to); and the knowledge, motivation, history, technique, technical, dimension.

    The latter dimension can be completely missed, and is completely missed, by the vast majority of people. However, there has always been a lot written about famous works of art. In a sense it has been (and still is) the fact that there has been a lot written about certain works of art that has been necessary, though not sufficient, to make them famous? Writing is the PR/marketing of art. The art itself, especially originals, have very limited historico-geo-demographic exposure, and without writings about them, most art would be unknown by the vast majority of us. Having looked at thousands of works of art and read extensively, and attended many lectures, about art – it was clear to me that without someone writing about this second dimension of works of art that that detail would be missed and lost. This information doesn’t jump out at you when you look at a work of art. Someone has to publish it…

    So. I feel my work is interesting and that it is likeable. I write about it, will take it to galleries, show it on-line, and it will sell and become famous. Right? Hmmmm…

    I have a real problem in that I have taught myself most of what I know and, very importantly, I know I can find out anything I want to know, and can learn anything I want to learn. I do this all the time. I am constantly learning new things – like most people, but possibly more than most people, because I am, and have been for as far back as I can remember, an avid learner and a perfectionist, and I have the drive and motivation to do it.

    For example, I am completely self-taught in computing: I know about ten different programming languages, several databases, many technologies, design concepts, protocols, methodologies, interfaces, etc. I have frequently worked with computer science graduates and post-graduates, and, modesty aside, I have designed and developed bigger and more complex systems than most. When I was at university I hadn’t heard of the term “computer science” and didn’t do any computer science courses. I did, however, feel it was interesting and important to do a lot of statistics and computer programming and so I taught myself. Little did I know at the time that some of the students I was helping in the computer room were studing computer science. Moreover, many of our lecturers were world famous and had published text books, but lectures were no more than going through a chapter of their books or journal articles! The exams were centred around demonstrating that you had read and understood the books and journal articles. One can read books and journals without going to university… Going to university, it seems to me, gives you a place and time to read the books and journals, but it certainly is not the only way you can read the books and journals.

    In academia it is considered that only after you have completed a Ph.D are you sufficiently learned and experienced to be able to carry out your own research – without supervision. This is probably true for the vast majority of people, but history is full of some of the most excellent contributers and inventors who did not follow any formal training. But the important point I am trying to make is that some people can reach a level of dedication, objectivity, hard work, motivation, and self-appraisal – that they can go on and achieve great things – with our without formal training. Not many people reach this level, but people are all different and some reach it earlier than others…

    In art there is no right or wrong. There is an expression: “those who can – do, those who can’t – teach”. Whilst this is a gross generalisation and unfair to many very good teachers, most people follow a career that is most secure and highly paid for their skill set and experience. For someone to study art and then teach it probably isn’t saying much for their ability to make it as an artist… But what can one learn at an art college? One has the opportunity to try different mediums and techniques, and one’s aptitude and skill is demonstable and largely objective. But a great deal of art today is not about skill as such, but about very subjective things – like theories and concepts – and what one examiner might like anther may dislike…

    For over twenty years I have been reading books about, and learning by practicing and doing, art and photography. I have bought the canvases, oils, pastels, water colours, pencils, inks, gouache, acrylics, all the major types of camera – 35mm, medium and large format (with tilt and shift), lenses (from fish eye to the longest telephoto), flash guns, studio lighting, the most powerful computers, natural art software, photo-editing software, pressure sensitive screens, very high quality scanners and printers, colour calibration devices and software – and I have spend many years mastering them. I am not at all sure what I could gain by going to art college (I thought the same back in my early twenties). I do art and photography all the time and learn and try anything new I want to. Digital art is moving at such a fast rate it is extremely unlikely that an art college could keep up with it. I, as a practicing artist and photographer on the other hand, can move in any direction and keep at the forefront of technology or technical opportunities.

    Part of me thinks that going to art college is unnecessary – it would just involve carrying on what I do now. So in that sense it will not do me any harm. However, I think I might find it restrictive and basic. It would also be a very big financial committment – both in terms of fees and loss of earnings (although I might be able to sell work and do some part-time consultancy). Part of me thinks I would just be pandering to the art market’s rules and mores…

    There is also the question of would I be accepted? Competition for places is very strong indeed and they naturally have conservative views about entry qualifications (it is exclusively a post-graduate college after all). I have no formal qualifications… However, for me, if I can’t go to the best place to study art, then I won’t bother. With my wealth of experience and knowing what I am about artistically, I’m not prepared to go to an undergraduate college and join teenagers looking for direction, amusement, and the bars…

    I think the best thing to do is to go along to their open day this Thursday (11th Jan 2007) and see what they have to offer, gauge if it is the sort of place I could feel comfortable and happy in, decide if I might learn anything there – and take it from there…

  • Art work: “Depth of Tulip Field”

    Depth Of Tulip Field F Brochure Whole

    (Catalogue #100_5644-5730: 44” x 66” – edition of 100)

    The human eye is an amazing gift, tool, and experience. The power of the brain behind it takes seeing to mesmerizing capabilities. Take focusing for example. My Left Eye 100_0002cThat part of the image in the centre of our field of vision is in sharp focus (excepting for long- and short- sightedness), and the rest of the image gets progressively out of focus – the further away from the centre we go. But we are usually not aware of this. Anything we scan our eyes over becomes instantly sharp. The fact is we are constantly re-focusing as we scan a scene. If we are looking at one part of a scene it is in sharp focus. We may not even be aware that the rest is out of focus, because no sooner have we moved our eyes to something else, then that new part becomes immediately in focus.

    Focus has a few noteworthy properties. The closer we try to focus, the shallower the depth of focus is. If you hold your hand in front of your face and focus on it, even things just in front of it (try placing a finger of your other hand in front of your hand without looking directly at it), and things immediately behind it will be out of focus – i.e. blurred. This is a “shallow” depth of focus – or depth of field as it is more commonly known in photography. The further away the subject is the greater is the focus depth – the region from the nearest to the furthest part in focus. The focus range is invariably perpendicular to our eye view.

    The camera acts like a static eye in that it can capture one static scene and its inherent depth of field. It is unlike the eye in one important respect: we focus on a narrow zone where our two eyes converge, and outside this area – left, right, up or down – but at the same distance from our eyes – things become progressively more out of focus the further away from the centre of our gaze they are. The camera on the other hand focuses on planes. Think of double glazing: the zone between the two pieces of glass is in focus, everything in front and behind are out of focus. As always with focus, there are no sharp boundaries between in and out of focus – just very sharp to progressively less sharp. However, there is a general area where most people would agree is an acceptable level of sharpness – enough to say it’s in focus.

    Depth of field can be controlled by the diameter of the iris or aperture: the smaller the aperture the greater is the depth of field. But the aperture can only affect depth of field to a small degree. What also applies to the camera is the phenomenon that the closer the subject is, the shallower the depth of field. There are special cameras/lenses that offer a tilting mechanism that allow you to literally tilt the plane of focus, but these are only effective with flat surfaces – like a road or a lake. Anything in the foreground sticking up or down – rising above or below the narrow horizontal plane of focus – like my tulips – would appear out of focus.

    Why am I rambling on about depth of field? When you are confronted with a real life scene you can survey it at your leisure, and it is something we all seem to enjoy. We seem to love being able to see a long way, and climbing/driving to the top of a hill or mountain to see a great view is a common goal we nearly all like to do. Taking a static image of such a scene – from our toes to the horizon – is virtually impossible, especially if there is fast movement in the scene as well.

    What has all this got to do with art? If art is about enhancing the viewer’s experience of life, getting the viewer to think about their surroundings, and their perceptions and pre-conceptions of it, then “Depth Of Tulip Field” is very much art.

    I use photography a great deal because I’m so moved by reality, and a lot of what I want to convey about my perceptions, pre-conceptions, and ideas about reality I feel are best expressed by being as realistic as possible. I’m completely in awe of vision – it is the most amazing gift. When I see a beautiful scene I’m frustrated as an artist that I cannot transport you there to see it also. So much art is about non-reality, disfiguring reality, or making attempts at copying reality – with varying degrees of success. But reality cannot be faithfully copied – it has near and far properties, and we can interact with it in almost an infinite number of ways – moving to different parts of it, zooming in to any level of detail. And reality’s main quality is, I feel, the freedom we have to look at it in any way we choose.

    At a scene we can scan and focus on anything we please, and that is the real delight I want to capture. Conventional photography pre-focuses for you on a static focal plane. Depth Of Tulip Field F Bruchure Flying BeeThe photographer has to decide what he/she wants you to focus on – that is what he/she wants to focus on themselves, and they capture that in stone as it were. You are not free to focus on what you want. That is not necessarily a criticism – indeed it may well be the intention. But in this case my intention is that you should be free to look at any part of the picture in great detail – as I had the pleasure of doing.

    The conventional artist – oil painter for example – is severely limited by the materials she uses, and by time. Whilst she doesn’t have the same limitations of depth of field, close up daubs of paint look like daubs of paint. And what would the point of meticulously copy reality anyway in this day and age of photography? The best you’ll ever achieve is a photograph. If Vermeer or Ingres (two of the best detailed artist I know of) were around today, would they reject photography and paint? Depth Of Tulip Field Brochure ButterflyWas it the process of painting they enjoyed or were they trying to capture something they considered beautiful, captivating, worthy of putting on a pedestal…?

    In Depth Of Tulip Field I have gone to enormous lengths to share the freedom of focus I enjoyed on a fateful trip in Norfolk, England. It was early morning, the date was spring 2004, I was driving along and suddenly this amazing field of tulips appeared. The field was huge and the rows ran perpendicular to the road. A striking feature was the bands of brilliant colours. The sun was not out fully (it was burning up the morning mist), and it was at the wrong angle anyway (aesthetically) – so I decided to come back later in the afternoon (the forecast was for sun).

    When I returned I went to the far end of the field with the sun shining at me – I love the sun shinning through plants – it really brings out their colour. I spent quite a while admiring the scene and wondering how best to shoot it – how to do it justice. I had all the main types of cameras, numerous lenses, and other equipment with me – so I had very few technical limitations on what I could do. The field was wonderfully long. I didn’t want to crop it. I didn’t want to focus on one part of it. I wanted it all. Eventually I came up with an idea and proceeded to execute it…

    There are a lot of different types of birds, insects, and other animals in this picture, but that is only to draw your attention to the fact that there were none! This field – due to modern chemically assisted intensive farming methods – was a veritable desert of life! Everything was either dead (killed by “pesticides” – implying they are pests – probably a propaganda ploy by the agrichemical companies) or the wildlife stays away – perhaps because there is no natural food there and/or because it is such an alien landscape to them and they have no natural cover. Depth Of Tulip Field Brochure DeerI did actually see the hare and the deer running through the field – sadly they were fleeing from a near by gun shot blast – I don’t think it was their natural choice to be there. But it gave me an idea…

    Most landscape paintings don’t depict this level of detail, and many animals in the wild are very elusive – indeed a lot of the time their survival depends on them not being seen. So often they are there but you just don’t see them. But for me this is what is fascinating about Nature: it is everywhere. The more you look, the more you see. And the closer you look the more detail you see. You can start with looking at a whole landscape (even my depiction of the tulip field is a small section of the whole), and you can zoom in on a field, then a flower in the field, then an insect on a flower in the field, and see the amazing detail of it. Zooming in still further, you can see the hairs on its body, its compound eye, the structure of its wings. Zooming in on the eye reveals its conical hexagonal lens structure. You can go on to see the structure of the cones, the cells that make it, the internal structure of the cells, the structure of its proteins, the atoms that make up the molecules, the structure of the atom – its subatomic particles. And who knows where this journey ends in ever smaller worlds…?

    I have kept the detail in the picture to what you could see with the naked eye, but I hope I’ve got my point across about the detail in Nature.

    Sometimes we come across a scene so beautiful that we stop what we’re doing. We stop and stare, remain silent, and enter into a trance-like state. It’s fascinating that our mind should respond so strongly to what are after all just images. It is also fascinating that the vast majority of us will respond in a similar way to the same scenes… I, as a contemporary artist, feel just the same (possibly more?) about such scenes – but I want to respond to them in a very personal and unique way, and to sometimes use them as a vehicle to express certain ideas I’m interested in.

    Really this is many photographs (circa 80) combined into one, with a great deal of digital editing – including much freehand work. But it is essentially what I saw. I have spent more time on this “photograph” than I have ever spent on a real painting or drawing. (No, I haven’t attempted to break any world records – some artists will have spent longer on their paintings.) My goal was to try to break the limits of photography, to highlight our wonderful, amazing, delighting, gift of vision; to produce something beautiful – or something I consider beautiful. The result is not perfect, but I’m happy it goes a long way to depicting what I saw and the ideas I wanted to convey. It gives me immense pleasure to be able to share that experience.

    Nature is not always what it seems, and in Nature reproduction is a vital force…

    16/05/2004

    Exhibited at Royal Academy Summer Exhibition 2006

    2006-06-07-Getty-Images-RA-Summer-Exhibition-press-view

    This YouTube video is using a new video-from-photo technique I developed.