Plot to Plate archaeology

When I was a small child there was a time when I wanted to be an archaeologist. Having been lucky enough to have visited several Greek archaeological sites and been inspired by the possible finds underground I was convinced I had the patience and where-with-all to try. That particular career plan didn’t last long but something of the magic of unearthing lost treasures, and working through the soil of past generations has most certainly been re-awakened through my adult years of gardening – and beach-combing come to think of it!

Over the last few years I’ve represented this process of working with the soil and bearing witness to nature’s materials in many drawings and prints, working to represent layers of gardening, as if strata of dinner preparations. I like the continuum of being a gardener, as the current occupier and protector of a long line of gardeners, each winning and losing the battles of nature and harvests for generations.

As I have dug the plot for nearly a decade I’ve discovered many broken bits of pottery, and some I’ve kept and others I’ve turned back to the earth to be found again at a different time. With no rationale to what I have kept but having created little gatherings; pieces turned out from my gardening trouser pockets, I have realised I’ve started another collection. (check out www.obsessionistas.co.uk for two more of my collections)

I like to see the different surfaces, the whites, the blues, and the hints of familiar patterns. Why do people plant their broken plates? It’s certainly a different narrative to my Plot to Plate collection…

KFarleyplotPotsdrawing100ahttp://www.katefarley.co.uk

 

knowledge of books

I have taught hundreds of people how to make books. Folded, stitched, and even stuck books have been made under my guidance in school rooms, art college studios, village halls, hospital rehab. suites, commercial company meeting rooms, and at dining room tables, at the very least. Every time I teach a bookbinding workshop there is a sense of wonderment from the participants, a proud moment when they hold the completed book for the first time, and realise what they have made. It’s a good feeling being the facilitator of that experience. Books are one of those objects that carries so much potential; an object that can contain private thoughts, or public rule, but is portable and very cheap to make using very few tools. We bond with books.

I was first taught about Book Art by Les Bicknell of ‘bookness’ fame. He made a studio full of Norfolk kids studying textiles question our preconceived ideas of what a book can be, and I was unique in that group – I saw a future of work that I wanted to make. On my degree course I was taught more practical bookbinding skills, and eventually wrote a 12000 word dissertation on the subject, researching in key collections at the V&A and Manchester Met. as well as interviewing some leading figures of the genre. Books for me at that time fulfilled learning requirements on my design degree while becoming vessels to explore my ‘fine art’ ideas, and this eventually led me to study for the MA in Book Art at Camberwell College of Arts, London. I spent the year investigating a ‘sense of place’ of south London, driven to create a more personal map of my London in contrast to the A-Z map, exploring cinematic flip books, and architecturally inspired structures.

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There are tools and skills that are beneficial to know; I was taught by the old boys at London College of Printing, as it was then, how to stitch with curved needles, cover the boards, and press the blocks. More useful to me though was the challenging of how we ‘read’ the book form, how one can be directed by the designer to progress through both visual and structural narratives across pages and along folds. I’ve explored these ideas in many of my limited editions of books I made and exhibited between 1998 and 2008. I’m very proud of this body of work, and I know many people appreciated the pieces. I have work in the Tate collection, the British Library, Manchester Met. to name a few, as well as overseas in collection in America, France and Ireland and within the small world of artists books I became known for the structural book forms I created. Many of my books were inspired by journeys and places I experienced, or events and mindsets I found myself in. A broken elbow falling off a bicycle really did inspire ‘Bloom’ which I describe as the ‘measure of my healing’, as I challenged myself each week to cope with the physical tasks required of printing the book. I have always taken on and enjoyed the challenge of transforming a two-dimensional sheet of paper in to a three-dimensional book structure appropriate for its narrative.

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Sadly not many people make a living selling artists books. It frustrated me that I could sell a print for £80 but once I had folded and stitched it in to a complex structure I couldn’t sell it for £20. So strong is our association with art, that if it can be framed and put on a wall it had greater value. I also got fed up with the ‘I can see how she’s made it’ statements as visitors to shows photographed my work without the courtesy to ask, as if I was a learning resource centre, having paid for the pleasure myself. I see now an increase in awareness of book art and hope things have changed in these regards.

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I have continued to use the practical and conceptual skills in my public art commissions, with large-scale visual narratives explored as if pages held in my hand. The sequence of toilet doors in a central Colchester public convenience was just that, a story of passing time. My current design practice benefits from my bookbinding skills and visual communication knowledge, as well as my book art thinking in the design of my marketing material, and sample books. I also continue to produce hand printed and stitched notebooks featuring my patterns – Parterre is the latest.

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As I pack up my box of tricks ready to teach another fifty students the basics of books let’s hope some of that joy and creative potential is passed on to the next generation, for whatever context they want to think about books in.

Useful links:

http://www.tate.org.uk/research/library/artists-books
http://www.bookarts.uwe.ac.uk/about.htm
http://www.specialcollections.mmu.ac.uk/artists.php
http://www.katefarley.co.uk/gallery/bookworks2.htm

If you haven’t seen the new IKEA video about the book book, check it out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MOXQo7nURs0

 

 

Wallpaper in the creating…

The process of designing my first commercially available wallpaper has been a long & highly considered journey and one I thought would be interesting to share.

Research: I first made drawings in my sketchbook last summer when I visited the National Trust property Hanbury Hall & Gardens in Worcestershire. I really liked the formal parterre and saw a really close link between garden design and textile design – I wrote about this in a previous blog post: https://katefarley.wordpress.com/2014/05/11/pattern-design-outdoors-and-in/

Composition: Sketches became drawings that became more detailed designs, that were then tested in repeat by scanning them in to the computer and using Photoshop. Edge details, scale of motifs, pattern and textural rhythm all needed to be considered.

Cutting the block: I measured and cut the lino block before taking a really clean print in order to scan the print in to work digitally with the repeat tile.

Editing: Further refinements, several print outs and more alterations took place over several weeks as I got used to seeing and living with the design. Additional lino blocks were cut in order to add different motifs to the design. Additional variations across the larger repeat file create visual interests and a play on the traditional repeat expectations. Some tweaks were so minimal that people unfamiliar to the design wouldn’t be able to spot the changes without having them pointed out, but it’s so important that every dot, dash and space has been considered before the production process is underway, saving time and lots of money.

Production: The digital artwork was sent off to the manufacturers of the roller in order for the design to be printed, and a technical proof was sent back for my approval – exciting and scary times!

Colours: Much thought, research, trying and testing went in to the colour combinations and I painted lots of colour chips using gouache in order to communicate the choice to the printer.

Printing: After signing off the colour proof provided by the printer, the wallpaper went in to production, labels were designed and printed, rolls created.

Results: I’m delighted with the results, the efforts by all those involved with the production process, and look forward to launching this at TENT London very soon.

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black, white and a hint of chocolate

I remember my father turning our bathroom in to a photographic darkroom, not really understanding what was happening, and not being allowed in. A few years later it was my turn to stand in the dark bathroom to transfer the film from the camera to the spool ready for developing the images, eyes wide open – as if that would help! At art college the group of us headed to the beach with the college stock of Pentax K1000s to photograph the fairground, and then returned to fumble our way through the same process. I loved the wet developing; watching the first signs of imagery appear, and then head to the corridor, blinking to the light, to check the exposure required for the ‘portfolio’ piece. I also enjoyed the more experimental side of printing. Photograms, multiple exposures and liquid emulsion kept me captivated during my college days and holidays back home-home meant the use of that bathroom darkroom.

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Years later at the turn of this century I became Print and Photomedia Technician at Central Saint Martins, and then Lecturer in Visual Communication, with the territory of a darkroom. I lost count of how many students I introduced the idea of experimental photography too but one of my tricks was the Pin-hole camera. The students and I turned empty hot-chocolate tins from sweet smelling rubbish to state of the art cameras, and captured the sites of the Back Hill campus. The wonderment experienced by the students, mixed with the realisation that they had made a photograph without using a ‘camera’ was priceless. But why was the photograph upside-down? Why was it a negative?…. Some students took this far further than I had and became rather good at controlling the timings and light readings.

I spent hours leaning out of the window of my flat in Camberwell clutching my hot chocolate tins, photographing the street. It became clear I had attracted attention of the guy opposite who wondered what on earth I was doing! I had to save the exposed papers to develop in the middle of the night so as not to disturb my flatmate, and so the house was dark. At this time I was also experimenting with photograms, and I made a book titled ‘Totality’ about the solar and lunar eclipse that had occurred, and realising that by using light, and obstructing light to make the book, the very concept I was exploring was creating the book. Apart from ‘sun prints’ in the garden with my own children I haven’t had time to use a darkroom, ready-made or not, for a number of years. pinhole_SE5img022web

I was reminded of the joy and simple elements of photography a few days ago. I was in bed, on holiday and happened to look up to find we had our very own camera obscura! Through the smallest gap in the blind was sufficient light to project the curve of distortion and the negative image of the view of the houses, window frames and all, at the end of the garden, on to the ceiling above us, in colour. The magic and the science of seeing was right there. Trying then to capture that image using a digital camera felt rather wrong. Where did I put that collection of drinking chocolate tins?

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Pattern design, outdoors and in…

If you are a regular reader of this blog you will already know that for the last few years my personal design practice has been inspired by garden design, and most specifically allotments and kitchen gardens in my ‘Plot to Plate‘ collection, launched in 2012. I have spent many hours walking, almost patrolling, up and down rows of National Trust cabbages and onions, armed with my sketchbook, annotating the patterns, translating them to motifs, documenting the small irregularities, the planting plans, the labeling – fruit and vegetables up and down the country, as well as our allotment, plot 8 in Birmingham. Upton, Packwood, Baddesley Clinton, Blickling, Felbrigg, to name a few National Trust gardens I have surveyed and taken inspiration from. Hanbury is my current favourite garden and I have been working on a number of patterns inspired by this property that will one day be complete, to launch at Tent London this September.

It is with this in mind that I write my thoughts. There are so many similarities between garden design and textile design they seem perfect companions in my practice. Long before Mr W. Morris picked up a pencil the natural world of flora has been a dominant subject of inspiration for pattern in the home. Rather than the bouquets and sprigs, posies and trellis it is the formal gardens, the parterres and kitchen gardens that hold the structure and compositional language that we textile designers and design educators regularly refer to…

Stripes, spot repeats, all-overs and multi-directionals, geometric grids and diamonds, checks and plaids are all to see. And so it is, that it makes sense that I really have brought two things that I do enjoy together in my creative practice. It’s too early to share artwork for my new ‘Hanbury’ designs but I will share some garden pattern from Hanbury, and my ‘new’ fabrics by the metre, available very soon, in anticipation…

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Communicating Colour

Evocative, technical, predictive, informative, for matching, mixing, ordering, cataloguing, of materials, surfaces, finishes, whims and traditions…

Working across the fields of surface design, textiles, public art and fine art I have come across many ways to represent colour in order to communicate qualities. Whether it be for perfecting a match for production, or generating an evocative palette for a client, each niche within the industry has its way of doing things. Black for the Northern Line, double yellow for no parking, gold for the winner, and red for wrong. From Global Color, to Farrow & Ball, Pantone to Berisfords the language of colour is key. Some give codes, other names, sometimes a swatch, others a smudge, universal, local, a science and an art!

Seductive, formal, in a book, or on a card, each help to create the colours in the world around us, and while the skills of the individuals choosing, producing and matching will no doubt be overlooked by most, may the colours continue to sing, calm, provoke and much more.

I’ve brought some of the various forms of colour I work with together to brighten up this grey, wet Monday in February.

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micro florals

I’m used to gathering flowers and then drawing them over and over in order to learn more about their colours, shapes, forms and structures in order to develop imagery for prints and textile designs. At home this weekend we looked at flowers in a different way. We investigated last years plants that my daughter had pressed safely, and looked at them under the microscope that my son had become rather too keen on discovering inside the utilitarian wooden box it lives in.

We had great excitement as some rather plain plants revealed stunning patterns and textures and were disappointed when something beautiful at full-scale looked rather scary close-up. On trying to capture these images on camera the results were reminiscent of Len Lye animations and got me thinking about other ideas. Here’s a few images to share…

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noticing Nottingham

Having had such a great ‘destination’ review from Cara of Patternbooth blog fame via Helen’s blog DesignHunter we chose Nottingham for a last minute weekend get-a-way. I had last visited the city as a student in about 1997 and this time we set off looking for a completely different experience from the cider-drinking ‘DM boot wearing’ art student of yesteryear.

We visited lots of independent cafes and restaurants, watched a great art-film in the Lounge at the Broadway Cinema, shopped in vintage shops & design shops and yes, we did find time to sup ale at Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem. It is a city with a great variety of interesting buildings embracing a myriad of architectural styles; almost a timeline of the design history lectures I give to my Textile Design students. The lace trade is still visible in many ways, and contemporised on the exterior surface on Nottingham Contemporary.

We had a thoroughly great time and returned home with rounder tummies and fuller bags than when we left Brum on Friday night! Thanks Cara, Helen and Nottingham!

images L-R: exterior facade of a car park, dots on a crossing, Nottingham Contemporary exterior, stair detail from the Paul Smith shop

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Norfolk lines

I’m naturally biased when it comes to the Norfolk landscape but seeing as it has shaped my aesthetic, colour preferences and my approach to drawing I am happy to consider it to be inspirational. I don’t spend enough of my time in Norfolk these days but every time I visit I take deep breaths, and big eye-fulls of the vast expanse of open landscape, the ever-changing light qualities and the endless colours of the land, sea and sky. Here’s a medley of Norfolk from this Christmas including sights of seals at Horsey Gap, a rainbow & the beach at Wells-next-the-Sea, and fields near Cawston and Alysham.

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the true Plot to Plate harvest of 2013

Today I picked the final handful of beans, harvested the last of the squash in case we are surprised by a frost, and noted the pace had slowed on the rain-battered raspberries. We still have courgettes and the last row or two of potatoes, plenty of beetroot, celery… and parsnips – and for those we wait for positive news of the frost before they accompany our Sunday roasts.

I’ve often returned home from the plot to capture in photographs the success of the allotment on our plates and bowls, capturing the beauty of shape and colour of our fruit and veg. Today I thought it appropriate to put together the photos as the harvest comes to a close. I realise its incomplete; no sweetcorn, no cucumbers, no carrots or peas no blackberries or swede. No disrespect – some were a success, some disappointing – but there’s always next year to make amends.

I have to thank this lot for providing me with constant inspiration for my design collection of the same name – and this really is an example of Plot to Plate.

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