drawing lines in the sky

A sunrise video from this morning, with planes drawing lines in the sky, the sun catching them and the wind diffusing them - this is my goodbye to 2015...  So happy to share this room with a view with you on the blog and in the photos (where you can watch a full screen version).

May 2016 bring you many new wonders and discoveries!

mirror, mirror...

A copper gilded mirror (convex oval)

Next to the glass fur project and the research into clay to glass, I'm trying my hand at verre églomisé, the art of gilding glass.

Ever since we were introduced to goudleder - "Cuir de Cordoue", in Prof. Em. A. Bergmans class of History of interior, I've developed a fascination for gilded surfaces and am doing some research on it, especially (guess what...) how it's applied to glass. Even in the history of glass alone there is so much to discover... Do you recognise this mirror from a famous 15th century portrait? And did you know that this type of convex round mirror was called an "Oeil de sorcière" (witches' eye)?

"The Arnolfini Portrait (mirror detail)" by Creator:Jan van Eyck - Image:Jan van Eyck 001.jpg. Licensed under Public Domain via Commons.

Verre églomisé was a decorative technique, often combining the gilded surface with reverse painting (on the back of the glass), so that the glass itself can act as protection and lens (of sorts). Mind you, this wasn't the way functional mirrors were made in the past; since the Renaissance a tin-mercury amalgam was used to create a smooth reflective surface, and Venice was one of the manufacturing centers.

A detail of the copper mirror, seen on the back showing the bare metal leaf.

In using metal leaf, it is impossible to obtain such a smooth surface, but that doesn't matter. It is precisely the edges of the leaves, the tiny folds and crinkles that make the mirror seem more alive. Also it gives the opportunity to oxidise the metal so it darkens; you can already see this happening in some of the patches in the mirror detail above!)

The reflection of a gilded mirror is softer, almost painterly. I love this effect. Since there's so much going on with the reflection already, the form of the mirror doesn't have to be complex. The convex/concave distortion is interesting, and I'm working on some forms but still debating if I want them to be more organic or geometric...

For inspiration I've turned to Pinterest, with a collection of artistic and contemporary examples. Feel free to take a look!

the glass fur project: untangling very carefully

The little test dome I showed you last time has been fired. It was fun to revisit the techniques I had acquired for my research into historical pâte de verre (the wax dome itself was one of the models after Despret's that were left over!), but giving it a more personal and decidedly prickly twist.

With the wax steamed out, only the glass pins remained embedded in the mould.

The glass pins that I had heated one by one in the flame of a candle and pushed into the wax, had all been embedded in the plaster/silica mould. The wax was steamed out and I added pâte de verre to the surface, and fired it in the kiln. Since it was such a small form, I did this in my own tiny Paragon SC3 kiln instead of the industrial ones at Sint Lucas. I hadn't used the oven in quite a while so I was happy to find out that everything still worked!

The mould after firing (on the marble cement floor in the oldest part of the house).

Now, I knew the real fun would only start with removing the mould material from the fired glass... I couldn't just hack away the bits of plaster/silica and glass fibre, because the 1mm glass pins could so easily break. It needed a gentle approach...

Slowly but surely...

Thanks to an old toothbrush and a couple of wooden toothpicks I eventually managed to not break every pin I had put on earlier. Heh. But it was tricky! The secret was mostly to soak it in warm, salty (soda) water for a couple of hours, and then the very gentle prodding began... it was a calm and precise work, taking care not to use too much pressure.

Here you go: a glassy punk!

This is the result so far: a translucent dome partly covered with glass pins. It's a start; it already tells us a couple of things. I like the translucency so that it almost fades into the background...The surface looked almost blurred, only when you examine it from close by you see the "hairs".

But it needs more tweaking and experimenting. One thing I don't like is the diameter of the hairs, which look more like pins than fine hairs. This has to do with the proportions and if the model had been bigger it wouldn't have been such an issue. The plan is to scale it up.

Another thing is this quality that fur has; since it is embedded in elastic skin it moves and ripples with movement or draping. This I'd love to transfer to the glass fur too... So I'm experimenting with more elastic materials for the skin: transparent silicone and textiles.

To be continued!

album et pellucidatum

The turning point came as the new year of 1708 dawned. A handwritten sheet in Böttger's eccentric mixture of Latin and German dated 15 January 1708, recorded a list of seven recipes: 

N 1 clay only
N 2 clay and alabaster in the ratio of 4:1 

N 3 clay and alabaster in the ratio of 5:1 

N 4 clay and alabaster in the ratio of 6:1 

N 5 clay and alabaster in the ratio of 7:1 

N 6 clay and alabaster in the ratio of 8:1 

N 7 clay and alabaster in the ratio of 9:1

The results of the test firings were more startling than even he had dared hope. After five hours in the kiln, Böttger records, the first sample had a white appearance; the second and third had collapsed; the fourth remained in shape but looked discoloured. The last three held him spellbound.

These small, insignificant-looking plaques had withstood the searing heat of the kiln; they had remained in shape and intact. More importantly they were 'album et pellucidatum' - white and translucent. In the dank, squalid laboratory the twenty-seven-year-old Böttger had succeeded where everyone else had failed. The arcanum for porcelain for which all Europe had searched now lay within his grasp.

Gleeson, Janet. The Arcanum: The Extraordinary True Story. Transworld Publishers, London, 1998, p. 56.

the glass fur project

Skin protects our bodies, and skin coverings reinforce that function. Maybe the cats have anything to do with my fascination of fur and how a mass of hairs becomes an entity of its own... Fur is vital for animals and in archetypal symbology it has the ability to foresee danger (see the quote below, from C. Pinkola Estés's Sealskin, Soulskin tale).

Carefully cut glass stringers, heated in the flame of a candle and prodded into the wax model.

Glass is very thermoplastic; it deforms and distorts in intense heat and can melt into a puddle...but it can also just subtly start to move, under the influence of gravity in a heated kiln or in the flame of a burner. 

I love how the surface seems to be dissolving when see through this mass of stringers!

I want to find out how the heat of a kiln will calm down these hairs; whether gravity will enable them to relax onto each other. But before that is possible there are a few more steps to go! It will be cast into a mould (or rather, I'll build a mould around it), the wax will have to melt away so it can be filled with pâte de verre, it will be fired a first time...the mould has to be broken and washed away very carefully and then I will put it back in the kiln, and let gravity do its job... Who knows, in a later stage I can manipulate the slumping fur in the kiln myself.

a little detail of Assepoes's nose, showing how her fur "flows" in several directions.

If we delve into the symbol of animal hide, we find that in all animals, including ourselves, piloerection - hair standing on end - occurs in response to things seen as well as things sensed. The rising hair of the pelt sends a "chill" through the creature and rouses suspicion, caution, and other protective traits. Among the Inuit it is said that both fur and feathers have the ability to see what goes on far off in the distance, and why an angakok, shaman, wears many furs, many feathers, so as to have hundreds of eyes to better see into the mysteries. The sealskin is a symbol of soul that not only provides warmth, but also provides an early warning system through its vision as well.

Clarissa Pinkola Estés. Women who run with the wolves: contacting the power of the wild woman, Random House, London, 1998, p. 267.

A little inspiration: my board Skin, fur and scales shows how other artists and designers explore this theme!

I'm listening

On a lazy sunday (which seems rare these days) I've been painting the walls in the hall. I decided to finish the nearly empty bucket so I wouldn't be greeted with any more unexpected painting opportunities...

So while I was busy I decided to catch up with some of my favourite podcasts. I don't always have time to listen, but some tasks - like painting the walls, or when I'm knotting or stringing beads - are so inviting to listen to other people tell stories. I kind of miss the days of the radio plays... I remember taping a radio play about Felix Mendelssohn who wrote his first opera as a teenager and my nerdy 14-year old self thought that was so cool...and it prompted me to try some composing as well. I loved discovering composers, artists and other famous dead people and how they were as kids. It was reassuring that they were often just as awkward and weirdly obsessed with music or art or whatever their thing was.

Now I still love to discover how artists live and work or what makes them tick, and if they're alive and well it's a big bonus! Hehe. So I listened to The jealous curator, who has a conversation with a different artist each week. I love how relaxed the conversations are although there's room for the more challenging aspects of creative life (like that pesky inner critic)...but that's often exactly what appeals to me. The artists are usually new to me, mostly American or Canadian but there are some Belgians on there too (not on podcast though). It's great to discover new artists!

There are a couple of other blogs that also feature artists: for Dutch speakers there's the excellent blog of Hilde van Canneyt, Gesprekken met hedendaagse kunstenaars, and I also check Freunde von Freunden. In this international blog a wide range of creative professionals over the world get interviewed and pictures of their home and studio are shown, but I don't always feel a connection with them. I guess it has to do with the more formal style of the interviews, the focus on success and confidence, and the often incredibly gorgeous interiors. I mean, they are fabulous and to some extent inspiring, but the they don't always feel lived in.

This was so different in the On your desk photo series on author and artist Terri Windling's blog, which consisted of just a few personal snapshots of the studio work table or the writing desk of writers and artists who visited her blog, often with glimpses in their book cases or the pinned up inspirations and their feline or canine companions... It felt way more real to me, and intimate. Our (creative) lives aren't polished, nor should they be...

On my desk (or rather next to it), a few months ago:
my thesis assistants Assepoes and Isaura
(and Takkie, my trusty USB dog)

a wall of books

One of the first things that took form after I moved here: a home for the books.
Check out the titles if you're curious on flickr!

an unexpected painting opportunity

So this morning I woke up to a painting bucket that was turned upside down. All four cats looked perfectly innocent... I contemplated freaking out, but the whole situation just made me laugh. It's one of those days...(and an all white floor would look kinda nice, no? ;-) )

clay to glass // glass to clay

Raw materials, calculating ingredients for recipes, measuring exact quantities, ... A challenge for this absent-minded brain but at the same time I love it! A bit of "work" for the playfulness that comes with good, well-measured recipes.

Some time ago I came across this simple clay recipe that consisted of 50% clay and 50% glass, for a clay body that was supposed to be wonderfully translucent. It was linked with the first European attempts in the 18th Century to recreate Chinese porcelain; at first they didn't manage to find the high firing recipe but developed several low firing ones, like the one I'm researching.

What fascinates me about this history isn't so much the fact that they did, in the end, find a real, high firing porcelain clay body but the wildly experimental, alchemical process of developing these recipes that have all sorts of interesting properties in themselves.

prior to mixing the batches: putting the necessary and clearly labeled quantities
of glass (square boxes in front with white powder) and clay
(soup buckets behind; greyish powder) together

It also tickles me to explore the boundaries between ceramics and glass. With a recipe like this, is it still clay? Does it look like glass or not? So what I'm doing now is making a binary series of this recipe: a gradual mix of the ingredients, with 100% clay on one side, and 100% glass on the other, and then I mix them with amounts of 10%.

The clay mix consists of 50% kaolin and 50% ball clay; the glass powder is the finest clear Bullseye frit.

This phase is very technical, there's not a lot of room for creativity yet... but I'm curious what will come out of it. If this goes well, I'll have a whole range of clay/glass bodies to play with!

the clay part is in itself a mix of two clays:
kaolin (this is the white powder; the main ingredient in porcelain)
 and ball clay (greyish powder; a very plastic clay)

making clay: adding clay powder to a certain amount
 of water (and mixing and sieving again later on)

More photos of the working process on flickr!

inside the lines

What do you do with a thick, lined, grey notebook? 

Filling it with color. 

reading by candlelight: "The creative habit" by Twyla Tharp

Work? What I live for. 
Play? Work.

This is a little snippet from Tharp's creative autobiography, one of the exercises in the book. It gives you an idea of how she writes: I love her direct and accessible language, and even just in the words you can feel the rhythm and movement coming through - she dances in her texts!

I've been looking for a certain lecture she gave (in the 90's I think) where she was talking and started to make little movements with her hands and body as a companion to her words. It was fascinating! Words can only express so much, I love how she emphasised it with her movements. I can't find it right now but will keep looking and post it when I do. For now, if you're not familiar with her vast oeuvre, have a look at her homepage: www.twylatharp.org

Tharp, Twyla & Reiter, Marc. The creative habit: learn it and use it for life: a practical guide. Simon & Schuster, New York, 2003. Worldcat

the kick wheel

So I was in need of a potter's wheel for the ceramics studio, searched for it for a long time. Electrical throwing wheels are pretty expensive, and my "studio" (which is just the old garage) doesn't have any electricity yet, so I got this rather romantic idea of finding an old mechanical one; a kick wheel. I envisioned hauling it into the garden during the summer and working en plein air... (yeah, I guess I have some hippy tendencies! Hehe)

This machine is operated by kicking the big wheel underneath with your foot, which takes some getting used too coordinating hands and foot... it also turns a lot slower than an electrical wheel, although you wouldn't get that impression from my silly little time-lapsy video. Enjoy the demonstration and an unimpressed Assepoes!

Happy world animal day!

Assepoes in clair-obscur, in the very last sunrays of the evening

Hello surface!

the tulip bulbs are eager to go underground again...

It almost seems to have become a yearly ritual, returning to this virtual home of a blog in October. I like the term "resurfacing", as if life takes part under the surface of the earth for a period, seemingly inexistent...until it suddenly pops up again, showing its face. Springtime in autumn, hehe.

Well, most of my invisible, underground work in the previous months consisted of dealing with Dad's Alzheimer's and the changes it brought to his and our lives, and working on my Master's thesis for art history (which I finished in August). It has been a turbulent period but we're all in a better place now than we were before. And in the mean time I've also been adjusting to a new town, to this new (old) house and a neglected garden that I've been tending to.

Creatively I haven't been as prolific this past year as I wanted, as I needed to focus on other issues. So even my creativity went underground. Luckily the garden has been a great teacher. Getting my hands dirty, learning about the soil, the plants, doing garden archeology, finding "treasures" (well... mostly just rusty beer bottle caps really, lol) and learning about the people who lived here before and how they treated the garden... And the best thing about a neglected garden, is that your imagination can take it anywhere!

Off you grow! Have a look at the garden journal on flickr and the inspiration for it on Pinterest.

a room with a view*

the morning spectacle seen from the master bedroom

on clear days you can see the hills

the first light in a blue world

for a few moments it completely lights up the sky

pinpricks in the landscape

*this book & this unforgettable movie