Studio Diaries
April, 2025
Personal experiences may be a jumping off point for me, but I am aware emotions can sit in a larger context. Making is not an escape from our fears or insecurities, but a way to process them in a more cathartic way. In art we can square up to even the biggest human threat, our own mortality. We can approach even these morbid depths and not only avoid being traumatised in the process, but also reach a sense of relief when completed.
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27/04 Alison Watt. The Levy Gorvy.
Remnants of the body’s movement are echoed on the wrinkles and pleats left behind on fabric after contact with it, unlike any other surface. And movement can be a reflection of emotion, for instance, a more messy sheet left behind by its sleeper may reflect a poor night’s sleep, or perhaps a ruffled skirt which becomes an extention of it’s wearers excitment and giddiness. This is something that Watt has been concerned with since the beginning of her painting career, noticing the way fabric and drapery folds, “how it seems to move when the body moves.” In painting these studies, she is removing the fabric from its functionality, escavating it for other things; it becomes suggestive of human presence.
29/04 Donna Kim performance + Artist talk.
Kim’s performance ‘The Breath of Being’ was a moving depiction of breath work. It brought attention to the vital bodily function, one that signifies movement even in stillness, and defines some of our most signifcant emotions. For example, breath is linked to the notion of desire, a feeling that exists at the core of our being. There is further a fragile, yet powerful dynamic in the relationship of breath to anxiety. The alteration of breath patterns in response to anxiety is a internal process, an invisible landscape of dismay. Breath is concealed, unceasing, yet so vital to our survival and a signifier to our mortality. Thus, not just how we exist, but intertwined with emotion, movement, and intrinsic to our daily life.
Breath, invariably linked to traditions of meditation and mindfulness, was stunningly reinterpreted through the mode of dance. These powerful connections that were channeled in Kim’s performance prompted my own considerations of how the internal rhythms extend out of the bodies in my paintings. Breath is a rhythm which can connect us to the present moment, to ourselves, and to the world around us when brought into focus. Just in the way Kim achieves a representation of the breath in her gestures, painting too can be a means of expression to make the invisible, visible.
The breath is impacted during the process of painting. For instance, when I am deep in the flow of meticulously rendering a detail, I feel my breath slow down, and the therapeutic effects of this on my nervous system. However overwhelmed I may feel, when I am painting I can finally reach a focus as the relationship between the breath contacts falls into rhythm with the brush. The thoughts don’t go away, worries and concerns persisting, but I can be entranced in the process for hours as everything feels more possible in play, or at the end of my brush.
04/05 Alvaro Barrington, Louisianna Channel.
Barrington talks about finding the magic in new york, wandering around the streets to perceive its flow, observing everyday phenomena that can only happen in the thouroughfares of this place, where multiple people collide and interact. He also felt an anonymity of this place, or detachment, which was freeing in comparison to a smaller town, but also lacked the intimacy of smaller communities. The impersonality of it allows people to be the "weirdest version of themselves," as Barrington says "you can radically reimagine [yourself]," but also experience "a deep need for intimacy,". Observations are gained from allowing the fascinating parts of the quotidian to intuitively stand out to him, pulling on the juxtapositions of previous memory of different places, to notice the unique textures of life in NY.
As an individual who grew up in a city which was interspersed with large natural spaces, the areas of London which resonate with me can be parks or the few green spaces offered to its residents. In a park site I can witness natural wonders here, satisfy my fascination, yet also feel a sense of sorrow. Watching swans on the lake becomes a magical aspect of the day to day, and makes me present in a way that can take me out of myself for a moment. Forging them in my work made the compositions interesting. The twisting form of the swan complemented what I was portraying. Due to the intensity of the emotions in my paintings I found the creature could introduce a balance through its whimisical associations. Adding this beguiling subject was useful, pulling on the distance in understanding we have from animals.
Swans became a vital image to me in the attempt to detach myself from the experience of being in rehab. Valuing the natural spaces in a city in which they are so finite, I was drawn into parks when reconnecting with the freedoms of being outside once more. I felt a kinship with the creatures that were stuck in the parks, in these manmade, curated environments which meet the needs of their survival, unoffered by the perils of the city directly outside them. Especially Mute swans are sedentary: they primarily stay within their territories throughout the year as this best compliments living needs. When what feels most threatening are the thoughts that swirl around the mind, how do we escape from this place we cannot leave? Oftentimes, artistic expression can feel like the only freedom from my mind, whilst simultaneously being deeply in these thoughts when creating something.
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05/05 Ed Atkins. Tate Britian.
Ed Atkins serves up a gripping survey of his current body of work at the Tate Britain. Guided through in Atkins own words delivered through wall text, the artist creates a hyper-real experience out of digital realms and prescise hand rendering, dissecting phemenologically emotional responses whilst toying with the cataclysmic. These fragmented reckonings on catastrophy are delivered with a soundtrack of gentle piano resitals and disrupted, uncanny vocals. Atkins can supply these investigations with the absurdity of humour and the sensitivity of melancholy, making the profound, easily digestible.
When Atkins paints a mattress or pillow, it is not a flat sheet ironed out, but filled with so many wrinkles and pleats that are imprinted from the human body that has just left them. Creases enveloping the picture plane made me think immediately of a human need to fill space, as in viewing the image, I felt a desire to latch onto these accents rendered within the sheet. As if some meaning or purpose could comfort me within the creases. Yet this was clearly a mirage I was creating for myself, I felt fooled: it was just a white sheet. Atkins supplies the sheets “upholstered with emptiness” with any reference to humanity you may be seeking “illegible.” It is quite a humourous contradiction, the image gives you too much, yet also nothing at all.
It did make me think immediately of other, often flat spaces that have a kinship with this photo-realistic sheet. For example, when approaching the vaster expanse of flesh taking over the forehead or thigh, I find myself reaching to evidence aging, veins, each wrinkle, or skin indentations, unable to accept the lack of information in these areas. A limb thus becomes a constellation of veins, in the same way as the sheet, supplying so much detail in rejection of the banal. Atkins says “I do love spending a long time on barely anything,” and I can say this resonates very much with me.
Drawing becomes a cathartic process for Atkin’s, in a similar way to Barrington, as it is a means to approach more formidable emotions straight on. His self portrait drawing’s, for instance, help his to confront difficult feelings of self-loathing. Directly rendering a self-portrait, investing time-demanding detail, would supporsedly be a torturous experience for the artist who self-confessed experiencing hatred of his appearance. Yet, adversly, the studies were a valuable means of therapy as the scrutiny required to replicate the image created a sense of distance. This detatchment meant the artist could encounter his face as simply a form to be studied.
07/05 In painting you can be present, with both the uncomfortable and the beautiful. Painting facilitates being present. In painting, Barrington can dip in and out of his own thoughts. Arranging colours on a canvas is like watching a person performing for Barrington. There is a preciseness which defines the play of paint on a canvas, watching the way colours interact on the canvas. The artist is 'proccessing' publiclly in his art. Rather than a completed creation, the data of the painting is discovered over time after the state of catharsis experienced during the making process.
I feel in painting I can be in my mind but also presnt with the work simultaneously. Harsher thoughts can be approached when painting, that feel impossible to comprehend outside of the making process.
08/05 Focusing on the privacy of the home, distorted by the need to perform when seen, I can approach issues of an individuals freedom, the notions of who you are or can be when the lines between the concealed and revealed are blurred. Being in institutional care environments made me experience the finitude of privacy. When this fundamental opportunity to be alone is removed, it raises questions about the comfortability of being alone, and the discomfort of not being able to remove oneself as freely from the presence of others.
In painting I can confront the most difficult iternal schisms. It becomes a dissection of what makes a person conflicted. How can the painting allow a rich internal state speak for itself? How can a painting speak multitudinally of this complex space of our mind beyond the limitations of discriptive words?
In painting I can reassess memory, reinterpret the significance of a particular image that sticks in the mind. We may remember but also reinvent, and within these boundaries the truth can be distorted or clarified.
April, 2025
Personal experiences may be a jumping off point for me, but I am aware emotions can sit in a larger context. Making is not an escape from our fears or insecurities, but a way to process them in a more cathartic way. In art we can square up to even the biggest human threat, our own mortality. We can approach even these morbid depths and not only avoid being traumatised in the process, but also reach a sense of relief when completed.
27/04 Alison Watt. The Levy Gorvy.
Remnants of the body’s movement are echoed on the wrinkles and pleats left behind on fabric after contact with it, unlike any other surface. And movement can be a reflection of emotion, for instance, a more messy sheet left behind by its sleeper may reflect a poor night’s sleep, or perhaps a ruffled skirt which becomes an extention of it’s wearers excitment and giddiness. This is something that Watt has been concerned with since the beginning of her painting career, noticing the way fabric and drapery folds, “how it seems to move when the body moves.” In painting these studies, she is removing the fabric from its functionality, escavating it for other things; it becomes suggestive of human presence.
29/04 Donna Kim performance + Artist talk.
Kim’s performance ‘The Breath of Being’ was a moving depiction of breath work. It brought attention to the vital bodily function, one that signifies movement even in stillness, and defines some of our most signifcant emotions. For example, breath is linked to the notion of desire, a feeling that exists at the core of our being. There is further a fragile, yet powerful dynamic in the relationship of breath to anxiety. The alteration of breath patterns in response to anxiety is a internal process, an invisible landscape of dismay. Breath is concealed, unceasing, yet so vital to our survival and a signifier to our mortality. Thus, not just how we exist, but intertwined with emotion, movement, and intrinsic to our daily life.
Breath, invariably linked to traditions of meditation and mindfulness, was stunningly reinterpreted through the mode of dance. These powerful connections that were channeled in Kim’s performance prompted my own considerations of how the internal rhythms extend out of the bodies in my paintings. Breath is a rhythm which can connect us to the present moment, to ourselves, and to the world around us when brought into focus. Just in the way Kim achieves a representation of the breath in her gestures, painting too can be a means of expression to make the invisible, visible.
The breath is impacted during the process of painting. For instance, when I am deep in the flow of meticulously rendering a detail, I feel my breath slow down, and the therapeutic effects of this on my nervous system. However overwhelmed I may feel, when I am painting I can finally reach a focus as the relationship between the breath contacts falls into rhythm with the brush. The thoughts don’t go away, worries and concerns persisting, but I can be entranced in the process for hours as everything feels more possible in play, or at the end of my brush.
04/05 Alvaro Barrington, Louisianna Channel.
Barrington talks about finding the magic in new york, wandering around the streets to perceive its flow, observing everyday phenomena that can only happen in the thouroughfares of this place, where multiple people collide and interact. He also felt an anonymity of this place, or detachment, which was freeing in comparison to a smaller town, but also lacked the intimacy of smaller communities. The impersonality of it allows people to be the "weirdest version of themselves," as Barrington says "you can radically reimagine [yourself]," but also experience "a deep need for intimacy,". Observations are gained from allowing the fascinating parts of the quotidian to intuitively stand out to him, pulling on the juxtapositions of previous memory of different places, to notice the unique textures of life in NY.
As an individual who grew up in a city which was interspersed with large natural spaces, the areas of London which resonate with me can be parks or the few green spaces offered to its residents. In a park site I can witness natural wonders here, satisfy my fascination, yet also feel a sense of sorrow. Watching swans on the lake becomes a magical aspect of the day to day, and makes me present in a way that can take me out of myself for a moment. Forging them in my work made the compositions interesting. The twisting form of the swan complemented what I was portraying. Due to the intensity of the emotions in my paintings I found the creature could introduce a balance through its whimisical associations. Adding this beguiling subject was useful, pulling on the distance in understanding we have from animals.
Swans became a vital image to me in the attempt to detach myself from the experience of being in rehab. Valuing the natural spaces in a city in which they are so finite, I was drawn into parks when reconnecting with the freedoms of being outside once more. I felt a kinship with the creatures that were stuck in the parks, in these manmade, curated environments which meet the needs of their survival, unoffered by the perils of the city directly outside them. Especially Mute swans are sedentary: they primarily stay within their territories throughout the year as this best compliments living needs. When what feels most threatening are the thoughts that swirl around the mind, how do we escape from this place we cannot leave? Oftentimes, artistic expression can feel like the only freedom from my mind, whilst simultaneously being deeply in these thoughts when creating something.
05/05 Ed Atkins. Tate Britian.
Ed Atkins serves up a gripping survey of his current body of work at the Tate Britain. Guided through in Atkins own words delivered through wall text, the artist creates a hyper-real experience out of digital realms and prescise hand rendering, dissecting phemenologically emotional responses whilst toying with the cataclysmic. These fragmented reckonings on catastrophy are delivered with a soundtrack of gentle piano resitals and disrupted, uncanny vocals. Atkins can supply these investigations with the absurdity of humour and the sensitivity of melancholy, making the profound, easily digestible.
When Atkins paints a mattress or pillow, it is not a flat sheet ironed out, but filled with so many wrinkles and pleats that are imprinted from the human body that has just left them. Creases enveloping the picture plane made me think immediately of a human need to fill space, as in viewing the image, I felt a desire to latch onto these accents rendered within the sheet. As if some meaning or purpose could comfort me within the creases. Yet this was clearly a mirage I was creating for myself, I felt fooled: it was just a white sheet. Atkins supplies the sheets “upholstered with emptiness” with any reference to humanity you may be seeking “illegible.” It is quite a humourous contradiction, the image gives you too much, yet also nothing at all.
It did make me think immediately of other, often flat spaces that have a kinship with this photo-realistic sheet. For example, when approaching the vaster expanse of flesh taking over the forehead or thigh, I find myself reaching to evidence aging, veins, each wrinkle, or skin indentations, unable to accept the lack of information in these areas. A limb thus becomes a constellation of veins, in the same way as the sheet, supplying so much detail in rejection of the banal. Atkins says “I do love spending a long time on barely anything,” and I can say this resonates very much with me.
Drawing becomes a cathartic process for Atkin’s, in a similar way to Barrington, as it is a means to approach more formidable emotions straight on. His self portrait drawing’s, for instance, help his to confront difficult feelings of self-loathing. Directly rendering a self-portrait, investing time-demanding detail, would supporsedly be a torturous experience for the artist who self-confessed experiencing hatred of his appearance. Yet, adversly, the studies were a valuable means of therapy as the scrutiny required to replicate the image created a sense of distance. This detatchment meant the artist could encounter his face as simply a form to be studied.
07/05 In painting you can be present, with both the uncomfortable and the beautiful. Painting facilitates being present. In painting, Barrington can dip in and out of his own thoughts. Arranging colours on a canvas is like watching a person performing for Barrington. There is a preciseness which defines the play of paint on a canvas, watching the way colours interact on the canvas. The artist is 'proccessing' publiclly in his art. Rather than a completed creation, the data of the painting is discovered over time after the state of catharsis experienced during the making process.
I feel in painting I can be in my mind but also presnt with the work simultaneously. Harsher thoughts can be approached when painting, that feel impossible to comprehend outside of the making process.
08/05 Focusing on the privacy of the home, distorted by the need to perform when seen, I can approach issues of an individuals freedom, the notions of who you are or can be when the lines between the concealed and revealed are blurred. Being in institutional care environments made me experience the finitude of privacy. When this fundamental opportunity to be alone is removed, it raises questions about the comfortability of being alone, and the discomfort of not being able to remove oneself as freely from the presence of others.
In painting I can confront the most difficult iternal schisms. It becomes a dissection of what makes a person conflicted. How can the painting allow a rich internal state speak for itself? How can a painting speak multitudinally of this complex space of our mind beyond the limitations of discriptive words?
In painting I can reassess memory, reinterpret the significance of a particular image that sticks in the mind. We may remember but also reinvent, and within these boundaries the truth can be distorted or clarified.