Studio Drift

When we were in Amsterdam last week, we visited the Stedelijk, a most exciting museum devoted entirely to art from 1900. There was so much to see and to think about that we spent the whole day there.

I could write about so many of the things we saw but there was one section right at the end that fascinated us particularly. This was a series of 8 studios set out under the general title of Coded Nature. Each contained a single installation by a pair of Dutch artists, Lonneke Gordijn and Ralph Nauta, who work together under the name Studio Drift (also on their website here) We found their work exciting and beautiful and, just occasionally, unnerving.  It was one of the most fascinating and extraordinary exhibitions of new work I've seen for a long time. Sadly, I don't think my photographs quite portray the size and impressivness of the installations we saw.

However, here is a selection that has stayed particularly in the mind, beginning with Amplitude (2017), an installation exploring the pulse that occurs in all living things.


The movement of the articulated glass tubes which were hanging from the ceiling was computer-synchronized and was triggered by a weight that slid back and forth in each tube. It gave the impression of a bird flying in slow and silent motion. To me, it also suggested waves gently and relentlessly approaching a beach.

In a nearby gallery, and also controlled by computer,  there was an installation called Shylight. This piece explored the changeable character of nature, and in particular what is called nyctinasty. This is the circadian rhythmic movement of plants which enables certain flowers to open and close in relation to daylight and nightfall. The flowers in Shylight were made from layers of silk which were raised, lowered and opened in a balletic choreography facilitated by motors and moveable arms. The light levels in the gallery were raised and dimmed to reflect the passing of the day.

The effect was mesmerising and we stood and watched the movements for some time. I now regret that I didn't join the small number of visitors who watched lying flat out on the gallery floor immediately below the display thereby gaining a whole new perspective!

Another which impressed us was the thought-provoking installation Materialism (2018). This involved the dismantling of obects large and small, analysis of the materials used and then the construction of variously coloured blocks which were sized proportionately to the amounts of  each material in the object. The installation worked on so many levels. It revealed just how much material goes into the making of each product and the use of very rare and scare resources and it prompted consideration of the total impact of each object on the planet. It was also very pleasing in its simplicity as a sculptural display.

The objects shown below (from left to right) are the VW Beetle (the list of materials was long and varied - not a surprise), the Dyson vacuum cleaner and a bicycle. Among other objects (not photographed) were a pencil, a plastic carrier bag and a plastic bottle.

Fragile Future, first seen in 2005, is in the Stedelijk in several forms. It is a beautiful series of light sculptures of dandelion heads individually glued (yes really, apparently) to LED lights in what was described as a form of 'slow design'.

Last of all we came to Drifter (2017), an extraordinary and slightly eerie film in which large concrete monoliths hover over a valley in the Scottish Highlands and an unnamed war torn city, multiplying, merging and constantly moving. Like Materialism, it invites us to reflect on the impact of technology on our society - and here to consider whether there is still a difference beween the real and the virtual world. It was mesmerising, if rather disconcerting.

All this and much else besides was seen on the first of four museum days ... and so much more was to come.

Amsterdam

I have just returned from a week in Amsterdam with my husband and some friends. Having enjoyed a visual feast of museums and art galleries that delivered one delight after another (more of those in future posts), we are left wondering why we have never visited the city before.

While I process what we saw, this post gives my general impressions only of a relaxed and lively city with much to absorb and amuse. First of all, is a large open space behind the Rijksmuseum, full of people from all over the world enjoying warm sunny weather in a friendly and uplifting place.

Then, there were the canals and bridges. We had of course expected them but were surprised to discover after interrogating Google that, with its 100 km of canals and its huge harbour area, Amsterdam is 'the most watery city in the world', more so even than Venice. It has great charm and boasts 1281 bridges of all shapes and sizes.

But the most surprising impression that we have been left with is of bicycles everywhere and, new-commers beware, ridden at great speed and some personal risk on pavements and bike lanes by Amsterdammers of all ages. All around the town, bikes are left in huge heaps, chained to lamposts, bike racks and anything handy. That central image shows a purpose-built mulit-storey bike park near Central Station that holds 9,000 bikes!

Google informs me that there are in fact over 880,000 bikes in Amsterdam - amazing in a city with a population of 851,000 people. This total is four times the total for cars and, apparently, 68% of traffic to and from work or school is by bike. Many bikes (between 12,000 and 15,000 a year) end up in the canals by one means or another and have to be fished out at regular intervals by Waternet, the Dutch Waterways Agency. Bike fishing has been described as one of Amsterdam's unique tourist attractions. All extraordinary and no photo quite does justice to the impressive melée on roads and pavements which results.

The medieval area of the city is quite fascinating.


Every building lining the canals and the streets, though built of the same red brick, is unique in design. Many are very narrow indeed as tax was payable based on the width of the houses' street access. Some lean irregularly owing to the fact that all the houses were built on wooden piles sunk into the mud. Others lean slightly forward as it was thought this made them look bigger than their neighbours. Some are painted and have shutters and all have amazing gables and / or decorated fascades to echo the profession of the original inhabitants. It all makes for a wonderful and eclectic mix of styles which we greatly enjoyed.

The area round our hotel was more recent in age but still fascinating.


Although we didn't have time to venture outside the city on this visit, we spotted a distant windmill on our way to the Maritime Museum. Having gone all the way to Australia two years ago and not seen a single wild kangaroo, this was very satisfying!

We noticed this endearing piece of  quirkiness in a tree beside the canal near the Leidseplein (that's a miniature saw he's holding),

... and this large plastic cow and her calf on the sloping roof of a house boat.

We stayed with our friends in this charming small hotel on a quiet street within walking distance of the Museum Quarter and and were looked after most kindly.

All in all, it was a very pleasant time.

Stitch trials

Experimenting with stitch and colour this week, I've stitched on a length of hedge using two groups of colours.

Various things were going through my mind as I stitched. In this naturally-themed piece, should I use colour to mimic or reflect nature. Or perhaps I  should use a range of colours I liked, maybe to suggest ideas and thoughts, to reflect the seasons or to create imagery. Then there was also the problem of drawing the eye, giving focus and depth, and enhancing perspective. 

I was also working to develop and suggest randomness, allowing stitches to grow organically as in nature while at the same time maintaining balance and cohesion. these two, randomness and balance always present me with a difficult tension, since being deliberately random is almost impossible, a contradiction in terms. It is a quality that happens without conscious thought, yet I’m using thought to create it. 

In all this, I was working to maintain sparseness and restraint of stitch - I battle all the time not to overstitch.

There was a lot going on in these small pieces. 

Clocks

Two dandelion clocks, perfect, delicate spheres in the warm evening sunshine ...

... until my husband cut them down. 

We have a difference of opinion about what should be allowed a small unfettered space to grow in our garden. 

Is it a man thing?

Vancouver Skyline

As I've mentioned here before, from time to time, I go to the Stroud Artists' Book group  in Gloucestershire just north of where I live (for details, see below). This group is very welcoming and knowledgeable and it's fascinating to see how differently the members interpret the themes suggested for each meeting, producing such varied and individual work.

Last Thursday, the theme was Holes, to be interpreted in any way we chose. As regular readers will know, I've been working for some time on images of high rise buildings I took while travelling in Vancouver B.C. and one particular image seemed to lend itself to this theme. Conveniently, it already had some 'look-throughts' cut into it and it also gave me a context for continuing the creative circle I described here.

I printed out several copies of the image, flipped some, played with colour, printed on both sides, cut out the resulting shapes and holes, added small dots, and then worked on possible arrangements of the elements. Finally, I stitched the piece together in the valleys.

After much fiddling, I ended up with this as my preferred final arrangement - interestingly not the one I had originally envisaged when I started.

When I began putting things together, I had intended to line them up as below and to stick them by the small 'ears' on each side but I found this gave unsatisfying breaks in the line of the piece and less interesting central shapes on each element. When I turned everything inside out, things seemed to flow more easily and those 'ears' gave useful detail within the structure.

While experimenting with alternatives, I turned the whole thing upside down, though this seemed somehow less resolved and solidly building-like. 

Then I played further with arrangements in bright sunlight, enjoying the shadows created.

Abstracting further and playing with colour and light levels has maybe given me possibilities for follow on work?

To present the piece (more correctly, I suppose, a paper sculpture) in the context of a book group, I made it a cover / box to sit in. 

The group's theme for next month is A Book of a Painting. That will give me something to think about. As yet, nothing leaps immediately to mind! 

 * For those interested in seeing more of the work of the Stroud Artists' Book group but who are unable to come to a meeting, images of work produced are available each month on their Facebook page. Between meetings, members also post useful hints on techniques and equipment.