The Heavens Declare

The Heavens Declare (1), 2022, pictured top, is part of the forthcoming Goldfields Printmakers exhibition, The Printmakers’ Garden of Imagination. Like its sister work, The Heavens Declare (2), (see below) it takes a detail from The Heavens Declare… (c. 1910), a needlework by British Arts and Crafts artist and designer May Morris (1862-1938), as its point of departure. 

Both linocuts reflect on the formative years I spent in UK and on my home country of Australia - in this instance, my present home in the Victorian Goldfields city of Ballarat. This work also recalls the wild rose bushes still found on the goldfields that were originally planted by British colonists as sentimental reminders of their own home country.

The Heavens Declare (2), 2022, pictured above, references the introduction of orange trees to Australia. In 1788, orange seeds were brought over by Captain Arthur Phillip, the first Governor of New South Wales. Reverend Richard Johnson, Chaplain of the fledgling colony, subsequently planted a small orange grove in Bridge Street, Sydney. They were the first orange trees in Australia to bear fruit. 

Scroll down to my last post for further information about the show, including a list of participating artists.

Opening event: Saturday 3 September, 2.00 - 3.30 pm 

Newstead Arts Hub

8A Tivey Street, Newstead VIC 3642

Opening Hours: Sat and Sun 10am - 4pm

Current to 25 September.

The exhibition will run concurrently at IMPACT 12, the International Printmaking Conference in Bristol, UK.

Pictured top: The Heavens Declare (1), 2022, linocut, chine-collé, 20 x 15 cm (image), ed: 30.

Pictured second: The Heavens Declare (2), 2022, linocut, chine-collé, 20 x 15 cm (image), ed: 30.

Return to Newstead

With the artist book, Leaves of Absence, completed (see previous post) Newstead has been very much on my mind of late. At this time of year, our friends Leigh Hobbs and Dmetri Kakmi are usually house sitting there, but this time it's not the case (I believe the owners of the house are currently in residence). It was on a walk with Dmetri and Leigh in the winter of 2015 that I collected the first leaves for what became Leaves of Absence. Some months later, on the back verandah of that very same house, they were the first people I showed the initial trial proofs to.

The pull to Newstead has been strong, and last Sunday we finally made it back there. It was in a sense a sentimental journey. I must admit to being a little sad that Leigh and Dmetri weren't there when the first phase of an endeavour that has become such a big part of my life (as they are also) came full circle.

My partner, Shane Jones, has been a tower of support throughout the highs and lows of the project. Shane is pictured below, looking for all the world like a figure from a painting by Caspar David Friedrich.

I trust that these photos will convey something of Newstead's unspoiled, tranquil beauty, which for me is combined with more than a touch of magic. I'm especially eager to share them with my faraway friend, Arizona-based iPad artist, Deborah McMillion. In taking on this project, I found myself as far away from my comfort zone as we are from each other. Her insights, advice and support have been invaluable; without her input, the project wouldn't have evolved in the myriad unexpected ways that it has.

I took advantage of the visit to collect additional leaves and to search for Amorbus alternatus nymphs, the enchanting insects that populate the eucalyptus saplings in Newstead. Although they are regarded as minor pests, it is they that refine and shape the leaves I use in my images.

There were not as many Eucalyptus tip bugs as on previous visits. I've since discovered that they are most prevalent on hot days (Sunday was bearably warm, compared to the scorcher of a day we first came upon them just over twelve months ago). Most of the nymphs we found were quite small, but exquisite nonetheless.

I also uncovered a colourful egg of an unknown creature:

I'm guessing it contains an insect just like the one in the following two images:

Research as to its identity will most certainly follow.

In the underbrush a butterfly (a Wanderer, I believe) rested.

I also discovered this splendid caterpillar. Again, I've no idea of its identity, although its colours recall those of the Amorbus alternus nymphs.

Directly below, it may look as if I'm photographing an empty leaf, but in fact my camera is focused on a tiny spider, camouflaged so successfully as to render it virtually invisible on the leaf's surface. Only the spider's shadow betrays its presence.

(The carrier bag hanging from my wrist contains my latest haul of leaf specimens, now pressed and drying in the Ballarat studio).

Subsequent research has revealed it to be a Flower Spider.

There were also more Eucalyptus tip bug nymphs:

What better way to end our fruitful visit to Newstead on a warm day than with a cold beer?

Thank you, Newstead and goodbye - until next time.

For more about our visit to Newstead, visit Moth Woman Press HERE.

Memory #17

Featured in this post are selected development stages of Memory #17, a work in progress from Leaves of Absence, an ongoing series of archival pigment prints. For the benefit of first-time visitors to this blog, all of the leaves were sourced from Eucalyptus trees in the Victorian Goldfields town of Newstead and all of the works focus on the virtual absence of Chinese women from the goldfields during the Australian gold rush. (In 1861 the Australian population included 38,337 Chinese men, but only eleven Chinese women). My research includes an investigation of historic Chinese hairstyles.

Initially each leaf is pressed for only a short period - a few days at most - just enough to ensure a flat surface, but not long enough for its colour to fade. A clear acrylic sealer is then applied to both sides of the leaf. At this point (donning my Winsor and Newton Global Ambassador hat) I draw a simple outline onto the surface with a white Winsor and Newton Pigment Marker. The silhouette is completed with a black W&N pigment marker. Although this is by no means the finished work, it is a key stage in its development.

Now the digital component begins. The leaf is photographed with my iPad and a series of filters are applied, all of them from iPad apps and most of them used very differently from the purposes for which they were originally designed. Not for the first time, I have to thank my friend, distinguished iPad artist Deborah McMillion for her suggestions, observations and app advice.

It is not uncommon for me to make dozens of digital proofs, often over a period of several weeks - sometimes months - before arriving at one that meets my satisfaction. This one is no exception. The proofs below (1-4 from bottom) show some variations of the same image in order of its development. Like the other works in the series, Memory #17 is intended to suggest old photographs or postcards, which, like memories, have faded with time.

Selected works from Leaves of Absence will be part of a forthcoming artist book. (See Moth Woman Press HERE and HERE).

Insect collaborators

The photographs in this post were snapped over the course of two visits to Newstead in as many days. (See also Blog Post December 31). For some time, I’ve been wanting to document the Eucalyptus trees that provide the raw materials for my current work. Their leaves come in infinitely varied forms, with invaluable creative input from unseen insects which subtly alter the contours in ways that add immeasurably to the unique aesthetic of each leaf. The identities of my insect collaborators, however, remained unknown to me – at least until now.

Upon arrival I couldn't resist harvesting more leaves for my growing collection, It was then that I made a thrilling discovery. The sapling from which I gathered the leaves was dotted with dazzling gold and blue bugs. Closer inspection also revealed what I recognized as a species of shield bug, also - a tad less poetically - referred to as stink bugs.

Some basic research conducted as soon as we got home to Ballarat revealed that the entire insect population of the sapling are Amorbus alternatus, AKA Eucalyptus tip bugs or Gumtree bugs, which are usually found in the tropical climate of Queensland. The brightly coloured bugs are nymphs; the mature insect is brown and orange.

The photographs third, fourth, fifth and sixth from the top were taken by Shane Jones.

For more about the Eucalyptus tip bug, go HERE.