During my first one-to-one tutorial with Jonathan, we explored my expectations for myself and my practice, as well as what I would like to achieve.
I expressed that I was looking forward to screen printing, which I’ve tried a few times before under the guidance of a family friend. Unfortunately, it was a while ago, and I’ve been too busy to go again. I’m excited to book some time off next year so I can spend full shifts using CSM’s facilities to convert my digital collages into tangible objects. I don’t know what to expect from complex, multicoloured pieces, but I know the results will be fascinating and nothing like what I’ve put together on my laptop. It’ll be surprise after surprise.
During our conversation, I mentioned a few artists whose work I enjoy, as well as some of the conclusions I’ve reached after observing their behind-the-scenes processes and finished pieces. One in particular, @petrmaverick, whom I discovered on Instagram, has been creating large-scale works using a variety of methods, including screen printing, painting with rollers and stencils. Jonathan helped me realise that I could start creating my own tangible pieces in a similar way before venturing back into screen printing. He suggested a few ideas that got us brainstorming potential avenues for creation, such as overlaying found imagery or elements of my collages using stencils on top of printed versions of my photographs.
I thought it was a brilliantly fun idea. It reminded me of my earlier days using GIMP to learn how to make digital collages. Back then, I created for fun and out of curiosity, spending almost every waking moment on my laptop figuring out the best way to bring my imagination to life, or simply doing things to see how they would turn out.
Over the years, I’ve refined my creative process, and I’m now at a point where I’m confident enough in my skills to create collages that are fully realised ideas I’ve developed over time. I still experience pure enjoyment and excitement when I set out to put a piece together, but because my process has become so refined, I rarely sit down to try something purely for the sake of it.
That’s one of the reasons I joined this course. I want to find ways to transform my existing body of work, as well as future work, into tangible pieces of art. I sometimes print my collages onto sticky paper and add them to an A3 sketchbook I have. Although they retain their original colours and details, it’s not exactly what I’d call a solution to my desire to get hands-on.
So, I’ve come up with a project that I’ve already set in motion. Drawing on my experience of putting together seasonal photography catalogues this year, I decided to create another A4 book containing full spreads of clouds I’ve photographed throughout the year. Within it, I want to use spray paint and stencils that I have a rough idea of how to make myself.
I’m aware that not everything has to make sense, especially when I’m creating purely out of curiosity. But I have so much material at my disposal that I’ve decided on a theme I’d like to stick to, based on an alias I’ve gave myself: forevericarus.
I loved mythology as a child, and I still do. When I was younger, the story of Icarus was one of finality and consequence. As I grew older, though, I started wondering what it might look like if that story had an infinite aspect to it. That’s how I came up with the name.
To me, it now represents the idea that pursuing your goals, despite warnings, internal or external discouragement, and the fear of consequences, is necessary if you wish to recreate yourself, overcome obstacles and push your limits. The sky could be the limit, but only if you don't try to break through it. Even if you don’t achieve what you set out to do the first time, and even if the consequences you were warned about become a reality, at least you found out for yourself.
The stencils I initially make will be of Icarus and a dragon, extracted from a collage I made titled Angel Wings and Dragon Scales, named after a song title I like.
I’ve chosen the dragon rather than the Sun because the original collage features both the dragon and Icarus among the clouds, with Icarus falling through them.
The dragon doesn’t necessarily have to carry any meaning, but I like what it represents to me. It’s a sign that you’ve reached a boundary. But how are you going to overcome it? Will you beat the dragon the next time you try? And when you try again, will you eventually defeat it? If you do, will you come across another dragon, or will you reach the Sun? Or perhaps the far reaches of outer space?
That’s the idea I want to explore using the methods I’ve mentioned.
Instead of sticking to a single colour, I’ve decided to mix things up. I want to start with CMYK. Having that range of colours to play with and layer over the photographs could produce some amazing visuals within the book.
Each page would give me an opportunity to try something new. I could experiment with different colours on different pages, change the arrangement, put the magenta underneath the cyan, use just two colours or use the whole range. I could also divide the colours between the two characters, almost as if they were the only two elements I needed to work with.
Perhaps I could repeat Icarus across a single page without including the dragon at all, or vice versa. There are so many different combinations I could try, and that’s what makes the project interesting to me.
I want to keep the book as a sort of sketchbook, a space to experiment. It would be the first time I’ve actually brought collage and photography together as a tangible art piece. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d combined the two in my practice, because I’ve already used some of my photographs in my digital collages, but it would be the first time I’ve merged them physically in this way.
I’m excited to pursue a project that involves hands-on work and craftsmanship, rather than relying entirely on the digital tools I’m already comfortable with.
I’ve had some thoughts about how it might turn out and the mistakes I could make. What happens if I mess up a stencil? What if the paint goes on too heavily and I have to wait for it to dry? Or what if I don’t wait for it to dry, close the book and end up with a copy of the same image on the opposite page?
There are so many possibilities.
I wouldn’t necessarily say I’m worried about it going wrong, although maybe I am. I think I’m worried about it looking ugly. I’m worried about it becoming a mess, which is interesting when I consider how I approach creating digitally.
When I create something digitally and I don’t like the result, I can just undo it and start again. I have practically unlimited opportunities to get an image right, working with the elements I have in front of me.
Something similar applies to my photography, because I use a digital camera. I’m not against film; I do like it. But I don’t particularly like the limitations that come with it, especially when I consider the project I’m working on now.
I’ve used a disposable camera before, and it was fun. There’s an intentionality involved in making sure the image is correctly framed, that the composition is right and that the lighting is right, because you can’t immediately see the result. You have to put more consideration and care into each shot.
At the same time, I don’t like the financial aspect of constantly paying to have a roll of film developed and then waiting for the photographs to come back. I think growing up as a digital native has made me embrace the tools and flexibility that come with my practice, while still appreciating mechanical processes and the possibility of combining them with digital ones.
Having that much control at my disposal means I can practise restraint, because I know what’s available to me. When I shoot with my digital camera, I’ll give myself a few tries. I understand that the subjects I’m photographing are tied to a particular moment in time. The time of day will pass, and that exact moment will never come back again.
So, I understand the importance of taking my time and making sure the composition is right. But I also have the flexibility to think that, if I don’t get the image right now, I still have a few more attempts to get it right and understand why it didn’t work initially.
It’s unfortunate if I mess up a shot, but I’ve learned something from it. I also understand that I might find myself back in the same place at some point in the near or distant future. When I return, the setting will be different depending on the time of year or day, but I’ll have my initial experience, along with everything I’ve learned since, which will enable me to try again or see something different.
Perhaps this is what I want to challenge through this project: my instinct to retain control over the outcome, even when the whole point is to experiment and see what happens.
I’m also designing a few logos to go with the book, drawing from my collection of unfinished logos and graphics that have been sitting on my hard drive. I think some of them would be nice additions to the theme and play into the experimental aspect of this project.
