It was painting bathers in the wave machine at Leith Waterworld that was the real breakthrough for me in my time at art college. Up until then most of my paintings died the death on the easel as I worked the life out of them...finishing them off as I attempted to finish them. Then, when I began to investigate the moving water and the figures in action I found that a lighter more gestural approach was needed. Since then I have at regular intervals had the opportunity to work with moving figure subjects: dancers, gymnasts, divers and swimmers, highland games competitors and young children. Each time I return to the theme I find something new and useful in attempting to work in an energetic and decisive way to capture the movement of a figure in action. So this year I have planned a whole series of events centred on the moving figure. Entitled 'Moving Images' this project has already included a couple of workshops working with 2 talented dancers, a third workshop to come based around sports poses and a final session with an Indian Dancer using mixed media to explore that exotic theme. I will be working at DanceBase with a class of students and an Italian dancer next month and in the summer I'll be artist in residence at the Lochcarron Highland Games. Later in the year I hope to bring all these moving images together in an exhibition. For more information on the moving figure workshops to come please visit www.damiancallan.com
The best way to start a New Year...in the company of a team of young enthusiastic artists whose mission will be to capture some of the animals at Gorgie City Farm in pastels and inks; and then - when they have thawed out - turn these sketches into lino prints, paintings and sculptures in the studio at WASPS, Dalry. I'm always so impressed with how the children cope with the fact that the animals never stay still. I recommend that they cover a page with lots of versions of the particular creature , different sizes and facing in various directions. Then as time passes they are able to return to these sketches and develop them as the same view appears again or as they recall something they have just seen - effectively drawing from memory. Degas was a great advocate of drawing from memory and described his ideal art school as having new students on the ground floor working from the model and with each successive year, experienced students would have to work on higher and higher floors, further from the model and thus reliant on what they could recall from each trip down to view their subject. So, New Year, new artists, switch off those screen menaces and get them out there looking and remembering real life!
Many artists would agree that there is something of the process of alchemy about making art - turning base materials into precious substance. I have found by that adding children and animals into the mixture as I have been doing this week during the Summer Art School 'Young Zoo Artist's!' an extraordinary magic has been taking place. Today we climbed the hill in the blazing sunshine in search of the zebra enclosure. We got a bit lost and then suddenly over the horizon, through the trees we could see those beautiful, exotic, striped horses grazing in the distance. We climbed onto the viewing platform to get a closer look and the herd evaporated. Quietly the children assembled their art materials; charcoal, chalk, grey sugar paper and the zebras reappeared. Then a silence descended on the place as children and animals concentrated on their respective activities - with an unspoken mutual respect.
Another great day spent in the company of some excellent young artists who have been in pursuit of inspiring cat and dog subjects. We enjoyed the animal displays at the museum and then went in search of depictions of dogs and cats in ancient Celtic carvings and Egyptian tomb artifacts. Yesterday we had a visit in the studio from Gypsy and Stella, two delightful kittens who, having explored their surroundings, settled into a large box to allow the artists to make their portraits. The course finishes tomorrow with some visiting dog models and an afternoon painting - without brushes... Next course will be in July: see Children's Classes.
iI have been fortunate in being able to teach a class at The National Gallery that began with a look at the current exhibition of Joan Eardley's work and then continued with practical sessions inspired by her approach. Eardley divided her short but successful career between Townhead, Glasgow where she depicted the children and the streets of this soon-to-be-demolished community and the seascapes of Catterline on the East Coast. Her work has tremendous appeal partly because, whilst she strove to abstract her subjects, the images always remained accessible and through a process of building colourful layers and fluid lines she conveyed a tremendous passion and love for her subjects. Her work is also an excellent starting point for teaching people how to abstract or simplify - how to see the essential shapes and lines of their subject and how to work with layers in order to convey the depth and complexity of the real world. Having toured the exhibition and discussed Eardley's process of drawing rapidly in pastel and charcoal before building up her oil paintings in lively spontaneous layers, my students were then able to work with a model dressed a little like one of Eardley's Glasgow School of Art peers from the 1950s. Students were guided in tearing paper shapes for collaging a simplified arrangement of the colours and forms in front of them, before drawing into this base with charcoal and pastel in order to refine the image. The results developed spectacularly from something elementary - like 'Primary 1 glueings', as someone said - to images of astounding depth and complexity; a process that surprised the artists as much as those who viewed the work.
So, what is so great about mixed media? Its the process of discovery that it offers - an opportunity to work with instinct and intuition and an approach that encourages us to be creative and inventive with the materials we use.
Inspired by these experiences with Joan Eardley's exhibition and the subsequent practical sessions at the gallery, I am running an intensive one day workshop on Saturday 28th March at WASPS studios, Dalry entitled 'Life Drawing in Mixed Media: Anatomy & Colour'. Visit www.damiancallan.com to book a place.
The way a Giant Drawing evolves and eventually comes to a conclusion is always a bit of a revelation to me. I generally start out with a rough plan of the composition and buy myself a bit of time in the early stages by working on smaller background figures, before gradually introducing medium sized people in the middle ground. When I was asked by Art In Healthcare in 2013 to produce a Giant Drawing for their contribution to The Edinburgh Art Fair I worked directly from the audience visiting the exhibiting galleries and built up a crowd scene of ever-larger figures. I had been conscious of a big gap in the middle of the composition that I resisted filling in until, having done a brief tour of the exhibits, I noticed a beautiful bronze sculpture of a woman combing her hair and thought it would be ideal for that empty central space. But then it felt as though the arrangement was unbalanced and I needed something strong and bold on the right hand side. This seem to come my way in the form of one of the organisers of the event who stood side-on in front of my own wall of framed works and helped to bring the whole drawing together in the last hour or so of the 3 day event. I've been asked to create a new Giant Drawing for this year's Edinburgh Art Fair from 18th - 20th November; this time based in the restaurant and inspired by the diners and visitors to the bar - there will be a rough plan and some use of scale to suggest depth and perspective...but I'm really looking forward to finding out how it turns out!
To see the new charcoal drawings that will be exhibited and for sale at The Edinburgh Art Fair go
to: AVAILABLE WORK
I have to thank the great George Donald for my knowledge of artistic anatomy. He was a rare inspiring tutor at eca who taught by example - demonstrating during classes and always exhibiting his work so that we could relate what he said to what he actually did. George also gave me my first teaching job at the college and this in turn led me to teach classes in anatomy to life drawing students. I remember one summer school when a particular group of American students arrived at the life class sporting baseball caps worn backwards and wielding pieces of string that they pointed in a slightly threatening way at the model in an attempt to gauge scale and proportion...one of them boasted that he read volumes of anatomy textbooks at night and could name every muscle known to medicine. I was terrified that I was out of my depth and unqualified to teach them. Curiously though, they couldn't draw for toffee. They could sketch out diagrammatic and anatomical looking figures, but there was no life to them, no sensitivity. The thing was they hadn't grasped that artistic anatomy is about looking and understanding form, how it changes from pose to pose but how it can be described sensitively and through a personal language of marks. The best book on the subject is by Robert Beverly Hale, formerly of the Metropolitan Museum of Art NYC, where he illustrates anatomical landmarks not with diagrams, but with drawings by the Great Masters from Raphael to Degas, so that the point about rendering form in an individual way is perfectly made. I shall return to the subject of human anatomy in a series of 3 Saturday workshops at WASPS studios in September, October and November - http://www.damiancallan.com/anatomy-workshops.html
'If you don't like the weather', goes the Hebridean saying...'try further up the road'. What really suits the oil painter and pastel artist about the weather in the Western Isles is how quickly and dramatically it changes. With each shift in the climate new possibilities for composition, colour and light are revealed and both these media work wonderfully well as vehicles for suddenly emphasising or intensifying colour or a light effect. I've just spent 3 excellent weeks working and on holiday on Berneray and what weather we had...including the storm that cancelled the ferries. I was lucky to be able to share my time between developing drawings and paintings in the garden studio and, among other activities, swimming in the sea with my family. We also had another couple of sessions stacking our friend's peats to dry in the island breeze. Some of the smaller plein air pastel studies that I produced sitting on the dunes looking across to Harris and Pabbay will be on show together with a range of figure drawings and pastel paintings at The Christian Community, 21 Napier Road, EDINBURGH EH10 5AZ for the month of September. There is a private view on Friday 2nd September, 7 -9pm to which all are welcome. www.damiancallan.com/events
I can't imagine a more ideal studio: overlooking the bay - which is itself a favourite haunt for the local seal population - and across the garden from the house, so that I can work first thing in the morning when everyone is in bed and then whenever there's a moment during the day to develop, or just look at some work. I'm really looking forward to these three weeks when I will be building up a series of drawings and paintings of the crofter cutting and drying his peats. The studio will be open to the public at the start (9 - 10 am) and finish (5 - 6 pm) of each day - for anyone who might be interested in seeing the work in progress. I am also hoping to do a lot of plein air painting of the extraordinary surroundings and plan to use these studies in developing the peat paintings.
It was getting the soft, brown peat all over my hands and fingers that made me want to draw with it. Artist often worry about managing to match the colours they observe in the world around them - taking handfuls of the stuff itself and even diluting it with water meant there was no need to mix the true colour.
I had made the long journey from Edinburgh to the Western Isles to spend a day on a friend’s peat bank where I observe, draw and photograph him cutting next year’s supply of peats.
Although I was hard at work drawing, I had to lend a hand with the back breaking lifting and laying peats out to dry. As my fingers sank into the soft, rich brown substance, it seemed only natural to want to spread it over my paper and attempt to draw and sculpt the shapes of the working man in front of me.
The resulting sketches were often incomplete as the peat cutter moved through the motions of his work - the repetitive nature of the task meant drawings could be worked on again with each new bit of information about the particular pose. Their incompleteness and the natural feel of the diluted peat medium has given me some ideas about how these effects could be translated into oil paint - to capture not only this 21st century crofter cutting his peat, but also something of the elusive atmosphere of this tradition of days of old.
Damian Callan is a practising figurative artist and tutor based in Edinburgh.