Over the three months that Melbourne is home to an awe-inspiring collection of Van Gogh’s works spanning his life and representative of the seasons through which he viewed and painted the world, we will be taking a closer look at some of his works at the NGV.
Avenue of Poplars in Autumn, 1884, Vincent Van Gogh, oil on canvas,
In October 1884, Van Gogh sent a letter to his brother Theo, along with some small photos of his recent works, so that Theo (who was an art dealer) would have something to show of his work, if the opportunity arose. In the letter, he described Avenue of Poplars in Autumn as “The last thing I made is a rather large study of an avenue of poplars, with yellow autumn leaves, the sun casting, here and there, sparkling spots on the fallen leaves on the ground, alternating with the long shadows of the stems. At the end of the road is a small cottage, and over it all the blue sky through the autumn leaves.”[1]
From this passionate and intricate description alone, you can get a real sense of Van Gogh’s love for Autumn. It was his favourite season, and he wrote in 1882, “I sometimes yearn for a country where it would always be autumn, but then we’d have no snow and no apple blossom and no corn and stubble fields.” [2]
Van Gogh was living back with his parents in Nuenen, in Norther Brabant, at the time he painted this work. A few months earlier he had been living alone in northern Netherlands, and, driven by loneliness, moved back to his parents’ house. Van Gogh was drawing and painting fervently at the time and the darkness in this image would carry through to his future work.
He began painting in oils in the early 1880s and really enjoyed the medium. You can see the liberal application of the paint in the details of the textured lines used to create the tall poplars and the woman in the foreground. The vibrant Autumn colours and soft graduated sky, combined with the tall, dark shadows, create an undisputable feeling of the season – something which Van Gogh, over his short ten-year career, translated onto the canvas with genius.
The melancholic interpretation of the painting inspired author Greg Bogarerts to write Avenue of Poplars in Autumn, a tragic story of the lone figure in the painting.
[1] [2] Vincent van Gogh. Letter to Theo van Gogh. Written late October 1884 in Nuenen.
When paint brushes were more prevalent than selfie sticks
selfie
/ˈsɛlfi/ noun informal
a photograph that one has taken of oneself, typically one taken with a smartphone or webcam and shared via social media.
Despite this modern definition of the selfie, it isn’t as recent a phenomenon as you might think. The term was coined in the 2000s, however, people have been creating selfies for centuries.
The oldest form of the selfie is the traditional self-portrait. Over the course of an artist’s life, self-portraits are created to physically represent the artist, to capture their emotional state (see Picasso’s Self-Portrait during his blue period below, mourning the loss of his friend), to announce their vocation as an artist among many other reasons we will most likely never know. As Picasso said, “Are we to paint what’s on the face, what’s inside the face, or what’s behind it?”
Self Portrait, 1901 by Pablo Picasso
Many portraiture artists were commissioned to immortalise the elite of the time on canvas. If you didn’t know how to paint (in a time when cameras didn’t exist), you paid an artist to create a portrait for you.
King Philip in armour, by Diego Velázquez, 1634-35.
Spanish-born Velázquez joined the royal household as court painter, and over his forty years of service, he painted the king forty times. This may seem excessive, however, compared to the reported 93 million selfies that are taken each day, which would equate 2,583,333 rolls of film, I am not sure…
Although it may not seem to be at first glance, one of Velázquez’ key self-portraits is Las Meninas, below. The composition, which has been likened to a snapshot in time, features a number of figures from the Spanish court, and Velázquez himself, working at a large canvas. In the mirror at the back of the room you can see the reflection of the subjects of his painting, King Philip IV and Queen Mariana appearing to pose for Velázquez.
Las Meninas, by Diego Velázquez, 1656The Arnolfini Portrait (or The Arnolfini Wedding), by Jan van Eyck, 1434
This incredible piece by Van Eyck is harder to identify as a self-portrait. Van Eyck was one of the first great Western artists to portray personal events of life. In this painting, he was the witness of for this Flemish wedding. Like many selfies taken today, pay particular attention to the mirror; you can see the artist in the reflection of this extremely intricate work.
Some of the most notable self-portraiture artists included Rembrandt, who produced over 40 self-portraits in his lifetime,
Self Portrait with Beret and Turned-Up Collar, by Rembrandt, 1659
And Van Gogh, who would often lack money to pay for a sitter and would paint himself.
Self Portrait, by Vincent van Gogh, 1889
The significance of ageing can be seen in portraiture over the span of an artists’ life, like English Painter Stanley Spencer’s 1914 self-portrait below compared to his self-portrait completed 45 years later.
Self-Portrait, by Sir Stanley Spencer, 1914Self-Portrait, Sir Stanley Spencer, 1959
Frida Kahlo, considered one of Mexico’s greatest artists, began painting whilst she was recovering from a near-fatal bus accident. She was not afraid to confront her pain and purged her emotions on the canvas. During her recovery, she had to wear a steel column to support her spinal column, below. Despite so much physical and emotional pain, she endured in her lifetime, she was able to transcend it and express it on the canvas. She painted 55 self-portraits during her career, and in 1939, her work, The Frame, became the first Mexican work to be purchased by the Louvre.
Broken Column, by Frida Kahlo, 1944
The first modern-day selfie
The first modern-day selfie was taken in 1839 by Robert Cornelius, an American pioneer of photography, using the first publicly-available photographic process, a daguerreotype.
Cornelius’s 1839 photograph of himself
Then the debut of the portable camera in 1900 saw the general public (those who could afford the invention) using it much like the masses use their smartphones today.
The 1970s saw the arrival of the classic Polaroid, and Andy Warhol became the King of the modern selfie we know today. People have said he Instagrammed his life before Instagram existed, however his long and in-depth work with photography and the human face revealed a lot more than your average Instagram feed. Warhol created self-portraits throughout his life, providing a glimpse into his personal sphere as he experimented with his image, including snapping himself in drag in 1981, and the infamous 1986 purple Self Portrait (which sold for over USD23 million in 2010).
Andy Warhol, 1975
Interestingly, we have seen history repeat itself, with the increase in popularity of large, personalised canvas prints of family members in the home. Not quite as extravagant as commissioning Velázquez, but along the same vein. The Polaroid has also made a return, with the tangible photograph creating excitement for people whose traditional medium is digital.
Combining of the mobile phone with a camera in the early 2000s facilitated the creation of the untameable beast that is the selfie movement of today. It has created careers, inspired pop songs, selfie sticks, and then a movement against selfie sticks. And with the help of social media platforms, it is a major part of internet culture.
Without having to constrain ourselves with a limit 36 photos on a film that needs developing at the chemist, the digital age is revolutionising how we portray ourselves, and our lives. Selfies are not stored in digital photos albums for reminiscing – they are shared online for instant gratification in the form of likes, loves and shares. Many argue that we are in the narcissistic age; we can invent, and re-invent ourselves using in-app filters and celebrities as inspiration. The ability to convey to the world that you are living a glamorous, or interesting life is easy to achieve with lighting, a head-tilt, filters, some hashtags and the tricks used to get a few hundred thousand fake online followers (no, we are not linking to this)! The selfie has made fame or the perception of fame more accessible, and desirable to the masses. But after the flood of adoration, post-selfie, how are we left feeling? One could suggest that an emptiness, an existential niggling remains in the void between the online and offline worlds. And the answer to post-selfie deflation of the digital age? Post another selfie.
So, where does that leave portraiture?
Humans will always be fascinated with humans, and although the selfie has evolved, traditional portraiture continues to intrigue us and is no danger of disappearing. At Melbourne Art Class we have noticed that our students find it enriching to turn off the screen and spend a longer, more meditative time creating an image of the person.
Whether the selfie is benefitting us is fiercely debated, though if you would like to explore the human face and create a selfie first-hand but not instantly, we are offering an Introduction to Portraiture Course with artist Marco Corsini, beginning on April 29th (no selfie sticks required).
Where we were born, how we were raised, and the experiences of our early lives all inform the narrative we maintain and develop about ourselves. Hopefully, the narrative of our lives is loaded with experiences of love and associated positive experiences. Love that is experienced not only as an emotion, but as positive and constructive actions. Love in action, such as the unbroken legacy passed down through the family of the successful raising of children. Or on a wider scale, experiences of solutions to problems of disease or governance. Perhaps we could have also experienced love’s cousin, beauty, as seen in the natural world. The wonder of the universe, the complexity of our ecological systems. For me, that particular grassy dryness and illogical forms on the Australian river flats where I grew up, or when afternoons would drift by with little to distract me from seeing the light change or noting the breeze on my skin.
Manny’s hand
Undoubtedly, we also experience limits in our lives. These are unique to each of us. Each of us struggles at some level with something that seems to cast a shadow over how we live life now. I won’t pretend that we can instantly wipe away these experiences; in many cases it requires much care which at its base has love, for healing to occur.
Because we require a stable, predictable image of the world with which to engage, we tend to project our little bucket of experiences out on to every scenario that we encounter. If we have had a negative experience in a particular relationship with a parent, we are often wired to expect that some of those elements are present in our adult relationships until ‘loved’ otherwise. Often the expectation of the negative will cause us to act in particular ways that are in themselves defensive and negative. Then the cycle continues, contaminating our relationships. This form of negative expectation is very different from the optimism which I would want to see in our children. So, what is the difference between a negative expectation and optimism?
A negative expectation assumes that everything will stay the same as has been experienced. A negative expectation can infect our entire outlook because not only is it destroying the real image of the world we encounter, it also destroys possibility. Have you ever noticed that a truly positive and engaging person is open to change, but a deeply damaged person often can only see things the way they are seeing them? It is as if possibility and therefore hope have been shut down. If we don’t have possibility, then what can we hope for?
Hope emerges from a world view that embraces the possible. Hope is usually closely aligned with experiences of love (the good), because possibility alone can go either way; positive or negative. Hope that embraces love, aspires to that which is better. I see creativity as closely aligned with this idea of hope. Admittedly, creativity like possibility is not always for the good as demonstrated by some aspects of our military history, but when bound with a love based hope, creativity seeks and acts for the good.
When we encounter, or recall negative experiences, I think the greatest challenge we face is not to let that experience become the template with which see the rest of the world. By maintaining a sense of possibility, a sense of hope, we enable ourselves to act, to seek a solution in an act of creativity. This is not a false hope or positive thinking. The real falsity lay in the belief that things cannot change based on a handful of negative experiences. By contrast, possibility, which is real, calls us on to creativity. This is the quality I want to see in our children; a resilience that drives them to constantly seek creative solutions no matter how great the challenge they face.
Jude, a current MAC student, recently completed a short course with UTAS called Creativity and Ageing. It introduced existing research on the benefits of engagement with the arts during the process of ageing, and included the role of creativity in reducing risk factors for dementia.
Throughout the course, Jude was able to explore, develop and reflect on her own creativity and has generously shared her experience with us.
According to Geoffrey Petty, the creative process consists of six working phases, inspiration, clarification, distillation, perspiration, evaluation, and incubation. He suggests that the term “creative” is used broadly, to include the creative arts as well as invention, design, problem solving, writing, and entrepreneurial initiatives to name a few. I approached the Creativity and Ageing projects loosely following this model.
My inspiration for my projects was based on the familiar leading to the unfamiliar. Initially I took inspiration for my first piece from a poem written for me on the day of a friend’s funeral.
“Pure clean water of Life
pours over the stones of our past years”
Excerpt from Water of Life Roger Lovesey, (2016)
This idea generated as I reflected on the poem and was inspired by the idea of running water for the setting. Through writing and drawing in my journal, I was able to experiment, take risks, use spontaneity and intuition to developing my creative thoughts.
During this stage I was inspired to include bird-like images which are connected to feelings and memories of my mother who I lost to dementia the previous year. This idea set me off to research doves and peacocks. The symbolism of vision, royalty, spirituality, awakening, guidance, protectiveness and watchfulness connected to the peacock, and in Roman mythology, where the tail has the “eyes” of the stars excited my feelings and the idea of a background of peacock feathers evolved. I was developing unconscious, emerging images, in the way Francis Bacon displayed in his art work. The area of intention was related to my instincts, or as Francis Bacon referred to as “a cloud of sensation“.
During the process, following the inspiration phase, I clarified my goals where I constantly referred to the purpose to enable me to achieve the outcome. At the same time, I was critical of some of the ideas and processes that I had thought about. It was becoming complicated and these critical thoughts changed my approach and helped me to complete the piece. It was time to leave it for a few days or so.
Following the final painting stage, I added some more elements of mixed media. I loved the process of creating the painting and was committed to it. This stage is most satisfying to me when it all comes together.
“The outcomes of creative activities can provide a sense of artistic accomplishment, and growing self confidence due to finding solutions to a challenge and the self-control practised in the process of creation”. (Cohen)
Jude Sullivan, mixed media
I selected collage for the next piece to challenge me, as it involved using skills and processes which are unfamiliar to me. It was a different experience in that there was no structure to the brief, apart from linking the theme to a feeling, emotion, or sensation. Joyfulness, colour, and spirituality were my guide and the suggested artists such as Henry Matisse and Fred Tomaselli inspired me.
The experimental stage was just that; playing with the medium, being messy, switching between wanting to clarify and continue to experiment. The best ideas were chosen for further development, and finally the light bulb moment happened. From that point on I felt in tune with the paper crafting and my connection to the work; it was therapeutic and I was happy with the final piece.
Jude Sullivan, mixed media
For the photomontage, I had a vision of a woman flying on the back of a mythical bird. I was inspired by the artist Wangechi Mutu in the way she splices things together and creates in different ways. The creative process flowed from being inspired, to clarifying where the idea could take me, building on it as I went and thoroughly enjoying the process. Leaving the art work alone for a few days or so, reflecting on the image followed by adding more to complete it, worked for me.
Jude Sullivan, mixed media
Finally, the Herbarium was my choice as a different way of creating. Again there was a link to many aspects of my life; I am connected to nature, photography and art, but I have never approached the pressing of plants, the recording or research involved as in this project.
Jude Sullivan, pressed plant
The choice and collection of many samples, finding the best plant to select for the study and developing a creative response was the brief. The process of pressing the plants and classifying them was quite scientific and easy to follow and was necessary to achieve the best result and the process suited my organised approach to documenting the plant. I experimented with different types of indigenous flowering bushland plants and discovered that some pressed easier than others. Choosing one which had a connection to the idea of food providing plants for native birds and insects became my inspiration.
Once pressed, mounted, classified and labelled, I planned the creative response. I decided to use a photocopy of the pressed plant, cut it out and mount it onto the paper including a painting or oil pastel of the native bird, though this was not as simple as I had imagined. I ignored the experimental process, and started assembling the cut-out piece.
Jude Sullivan, mixed media
I was rushing ahead without much clarification or evaluation of the process. The journal paper was not an effective basis for the pastel work which is a new medium for me, and I neglected to block in the background first. This made the process less satisfying but I persevered, learning from my hurried, non-strategic approach.
During this course and the creation of these works, I have discovered some insights into my way of creating which has given me a better idea of how my mind operates and creates. All aspects of the study have opened my mind to how we can become more experimental, and try new things as we age.
“Late-life creativity reflects aspects of late-life thinking; synthesis, reflection and wisdom” (Adams- Price).
References:
Geoffrey Petty “How to be Better at Creativity“, (1996)
Cohen, G. et al. “The impact of professionally conducted cultural programs on the physical health, mental health, and social functioning of older adults” The Gerontologist 46 (2006): 726-73
Adams-Price, Caroline E. ed. Creativity and Successful Aging. New York: Springer, 1998.
Hilmi ran our first workshop for the year – a Drawing Workshop using Ink and Shellac. It was a marathon workshop, where students created a still life, beginning with charcoal, then two layers of shellac and finished with black ink and white paint!
Hilmi began the workshop teaching students some of the fundamentals of drawing. Students were to choose a number of items of still life that Hilmi had meticulously arranged, with black sheets behind them, which Hilmi explained was important because it creates the shapes of the still life. You see the shape of something by looking at what is behind it, and a dark surface makes this easier.
After students finished the drawing in pencil, they then used charcoal to enhance the dark and light tones within the image.
Once students felt they had a finished sketch, Hilmi put down a big plastic sheet, and made sure everyone wore gloves for, what students felt, was a daunting, yet fascinating process. They laid their works on the plastic sheet and poured shellac all over the page, moving around and smoothing out the shellac with small spatulas. Students were hesitant to pour the runny mixture on the thin paper, however the shellac sealed the charcoal drawing beneath and eventually created a hard surface; changing the images instantly! Students added two layers and then left them to dry for half an hour. If you are familiar with Hilmi’s mixed media works using shellac, he normally uses at least eight layers of shellac!
Hilmi pouring the shellac over the charcoal drawingKC smoothing shellac over her drawing
Once the images were dry, the next step was to add ink in the darkest areas, and diluted ink for the mid-tones. Painting over the shellac was unlike anything they had experienced; the new texture of the paper was unpredictable; there were bubbles, rough and smooth areas, which made it very interesting, yet challenging to apply the ink! The final part of the workshop saw students adding white to the lightest areas, which was what Hilmi called creating ‘magic’. It really did lift the still life images off the page!
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If you’d like to join one of our next workshops, you can view them here.
We often find ourselves making excuses as to why we cannot spend time pursuing something we love, like setting aside 15 minutes to sketch every day, or attending a weekly art class. Do we deprive ourselves of things that would ultimately bring us joy because being creative does not have a tangible end goal in our lives?
Making excuses why I cannot be creative is a habit that I would like to break this year, and invite others to join me! No more excuses.
Why do we put off being creative?
Creativity is at the bottom of the to-do list for many of us (or doesn’t even register).
Feeling guilty for spending time on ourselves and being selfish (especially as a parent)
I’m too old to learn
One day
However, when we do allow ourselves time to be creative, it leaks into other areas of our lives and can have a very positive impact.
We often focus on a single outcome – for example, you want to learn how to draw realistically. This is a huge goal! The work behind it can put you off before you even pick up a pencil! Or the pressure you place on yourself to create realistic drawings from the get-go can severely inhibit your creative process. The goal-setting theory in The Happiness Trap (Harris) has really helped people with taking the first difficult step by suggesting that they look at the underlying values behind the goal. So you could ask, why do I want to draw realistically? Perhaps it is because you value representing the world on paper in that way. Perhaps because being creative is important to you and you value expressing your view of the world. Or simply because you value relaxing, taking time, and looking after yourself, and being creative is how you achieve this. Looking at these underlying goals may help you be more gentle on yourself and realise that there are many steps to reaching your goal, and that the journey is more important than the result.
By looking at the values behind the goal, sometimes this can help you to overcome the reasons why you are not motivated to create. For example, ‘I don’t have time to sit down and draw for 15 minutes’. What are your underlying values behind your goal of drawing for 15 minutes? You may value me-time, or value the act of being creative, or self-improvement. Surely these three values alone trump the excuse of not having enough time in your day. We just need to realise the importance of the underlying values of our goals, which will hopefully become a source of motivation.
There are many steps to reaching your goal, and the journey is more important than the result.
Let your intrinsic motivation take over this year
If you are lucky enough to have your passion as your work, you will most likely know that the act of creating a commissioned piece (extrinsic motivation) is different when creating for its own sake, which often has no monetary goal or reward (intrinsic motivation). When creating something with an end goal or reward in sight, you may feel under pressure to perform, anxious about deadlines or other feelings that can stifle creativity. This can happen during the smallest of creative activities; a child trying to draw better than her peers around her, or creating something just to get more likes on Instagram. When driven primarily by this form of extrinsic motivation, we risk missing out on the journey that is ‘creating’ because we are so focused on external factors, and the end goal.
“People will be most creative when they feel motivated primarily by the interest, satisfaction, and challenge of the work itself — not by external pressures.” (Amabile, ‘How to Kill Creativity’)
Creating something for the sake of it is where the magic really happens. Time stops, or ceases to exist; you get lost in your work and can enter into a flow state. You feel an immense amount of satisfaction – even if you didn’t produce the work you set out to. The flow state is what most artists aim for, because it is when we feel most connected with their work, and often what they create seems to just come into existence, with minimal effort (or sometimes no memory of it even happening). This occurs because they are allowing themselves to do what they love and are not thinking about any external factors.
A creative new you
This year I challenge you to set more time for yourself to be creative. Even if, in the beginning you sit there with a blank canvas for a week. Take a new class. Just start creating for you.
I created one of my favourite pieces in Marco’s Studio Art Class when I had no intentions, expectations and most importantly, no fear. I went to class on Tuesdays just for me, and those two-and-a-half-hour sessions every week felt like an eternity and the blink of an eye all at once. And one Tuesday I walked out of class with my favourite painting, below. It is an example of work I produced when I was intrinsically motivated, and my underlying value was to be creative every week. And it doesn’t bother me at all if nobody likes it!
Here’s to an inspiring and productive 2017!
Lauren Ottaway, Red Kitchen, acrylic on canvas, 2015.
We had our talented regulars, plus a few new faces in our Painting Course this Term, and it was a fantastic class. Hilmi’s teaching is based on traditional oil painting techniques, using elements of Flemish painting with a contemporary adaptation.
This term they painted from still life for four sessions, and from a life model for five. Take a look at their brilliant work below!
We did not receive everyone’s work – so if you do not see your paintings and would like them to be published on our blog and online gallery, please sent them to Lauren at hub@melbourneartclass.com!
We’ve come to the end of a very exciting and sometimes challenging 2016 for Melbourne Art Class (MAC). What began as a unique art program almost nine years ago, continues to flourish. We have been coming to terms with the ever-increasing scale of MAC and there is little doubt in my mind that everything we have been through this year is laying the foundations for a new MAC era.
I’d like to thank everyone that has participated in MAC this year.
Thank you to our dedicated students who make our role as teachers extremely rewarding. For us as teachers, this environment of small intimate classes is a wonderful way to pass on skills and exchange experiences. I receive so much from my students; sometimes my classes are like a balm for the hard, long hours I work alone elsewhere. I very much appreciate meeting wonderful people who regularly attend our courses and embrace our little community with generosity.
Thanks to the Uniting Church who ignore the possibility of greater economic gain to make Enderby Hall available to artists, in so doing have supported me as an artist.
Thank you Lauren for being a being a constant support for me as I scurry between teaching and art practice. I attribute the friendly tone and sense of community we have managed to retain to your focus and warmth.
Thank you Hilmi as you continue to take art teaching to new levels. The little following of students that has sprouted up around you is justly deserved. I personally continue to gain much from our conversations and it is always encouraging to know that you are there.
Thank you Caz for bringing your generous warmth and experience to MAC’s students. We are fortunate to have your unique set of skills along with the care you have shown individuals.
Thank you to Jesse, you have been a strong foundation for myself and for MAC and it has been exciting to see the new developments in your own art practice this year. We will be watching for your upcoming show.
Thanks also to Irene who worked with us for part of the year. I very much have respect for your breadth of skill and experience.
Thank you to Althea who brings her gift for business strategy to our little school, enabling us to adapt to an ever-changing environment.
I continue to watch MAC develop and grow with a quiet sense of awe. I cannot tell you how fortunate we are to have this unique group of teachers and administrators and it has been amazing to see the way in which each individual ‘appeared’ when we most needed them.
2017 will be a formative year for MAC as we adapt, implement new courses, teachers and spaces. I look forward to continuing the journey with you.
Have a wonderful Christmas and holiday break and a happy new year!
The assimilation of new techniques into children’s art work.
I have returned to teaching a children’s class after two years focused upon developing the adults’ classes.
I came into this new children’s class with the intention of introducing some elements of ‘atelier’ or ‘academic’ style training for the children. This is the methodology that many of the adults who have attended our classes would be familiar with, that enables us to rigorously teach technique.
Whilst I intended to introduce the same elements as in our adult’s classes, those of you that know me, will know that I am heavily influenced by Steiner and Montessori educational philosophies. These philosophies emphasise intrinsic self motivation (self motivation), creativity and the natural rhythm of child’s development. Whilst these philosophies are not completely incompatible with the style of training I wanted to introduce, it certainly gives me a lot to consider as a teacher.
We have had our first two classes for the term and the results, in fact, the way in which the first week’s instruction was absorbed then reappeared, fully integrated into the second week’s work has left me speechless. Perhaps these children are just incredibly talented, but somehow, they have taken in the new techniques and used them to produce work which incorporates those techniques into their own powerfully iconographic style. The three examples below by Taku, Chloe and Tyla display a far more individual approach than I would commonly see in adults, yet all have used the techniques of constructing a sphere and use of tone that I had shown them the week before. They do this while still maintaining an aesthetic integrity; the work holds together as personal statement. The new techniques have been subsumed to the personal visual logic each child individually consistently maintains.
Taku, charcoal on paper, 2016Chloe, charcoal on paper. 2016Tyra, charcoal on paper, 2016
On the basis of these works, it seems that it is possible to teach technique to children without restricting their creative or personal expression. Taku, for example, maintains a powerful expressive line and an arresting visual impact over the foundation of the structural approach he had been shown. Chloe has a whimsical play with the line of the structural drawing. With the interplay of line and the rubbing of the charcoal, the groups of objects all merge into one whole, showing an interplay of relationships between objects. Tyra also uses value, or tone in a powerful way, inventing value for visual impact (the shadow wasn’t present in the arrangement she was drawing from).
I realise that while teaching what is essentially a limiting process to the children, I shouldn’t limit the children’s other visual processes and iconographies. The purpose of restricting would be to show the assimilation of the technique I am teaching more clearly. The problem being that by restricting other information children use in the image, I may be sending the message that other forms of expression aside from that being taught are are wrong. The eventual casualty of such an approach being the death of creativity, exploration and intrinsic learning.
For the age group in my class, (9 – 12 year olds), it seems I can teach technique and that the child experiences an adaption of the new technique into an existing canon of technique, creativity and visual language rather than a weeding out of those pre-existing elements. In so doing, they maintain their ability for powerful personal expression.
I’m very much looking forward to the work that is to come.
We have been asked for a long time now, when will we be holding art classes during the day?!
Well, we are excited to announce we will be running two new Drawing and Painting (Studio Art) classes during Tuesday and Friday mornings from 2017! Finally, we hear you say!
Artist Marco Corsini will be presenting these daytime art classes and they will run the same way as our popular evening Studio Art Class (don’t worry, he will still be taking our Tuesday night class)!
Vicki Mullina, oil on canvas, 2016, Studio Art Class
Marco’s Studio Art Classes are our longest-running and are the foundation of Melbourne Art Class. We welcome people from all creative backgrounds, skill levels – anyone who needs a space to be creative, become inspired, acquire specific skills, continue an artistic project – the list goes on. The unique element about this class is that we limit enrolments to only ten students, so Marco is able to provide critical feedback, drawing and painting tuition or just help you get your idea out of your head and onto the canvas.
To get to know Marco’s classes a little better, you can read about his Tuesday evening class here.
Our classes are held at Enderby Studio, 314 Church Street, Richmond.
Daytime Art Course Dates
Term 1 Tuesday mornings: Feb 7th, 14th, 21st, 28th, Mar 7th, 14th, 21st, 28th (8 sessions)
If you have any questions about our new daytime art classes, please don’t hesitate to email Lauren at hub@melbourneartclass.com! We look forward to helping you add some creativity to your week!
