carole cluer

Art, hope and self acceptance

Tag: imperfection

Speaking Out Exhibition

I am delighted that in just a few days I am taking part in Embrace Arts exhibition at The University of Leicester’s art centre.

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Although the majority of my practice involves drawing, for this exhibition I have revisited my interest with kintsugi, I have previously worked with blue and white plates for a piece called ‘unbroken’ related to my experiences of breast cancer.

This time I have chosen an assortment of plates that would represent different eras and social classes, I have included ones that would be easily recognisable, to contain something that would connect with the viewer’s own life and  emphasise how domestic violence affects all areas of society.

Plates are often chosen when first setting up home, their design reflects the type of home we hope to create, the image that we wish to present as a couple or family. They are desired, saved for, gifted. They are present in our everyday, our special occasions, our celebrations, our tragedies.

Throwing or smashing plates is often used as an image of domestic arguments. The breaking of pottery can be found in wedding and funeral rituals to symbolise something that cannot be undone. Even attempting repair is to accept imperfection.

The contrast of these plates, that were perhaps once carefully selected and are now cracked and repaired, their joints widened and under tension, seeks to highlight the sometimes stark differences between our hopes and realities.

Speaking Out Proof6.indd

I will add more photographs after the opening night, this Friday, 31st January 2014, 5pm-7.30pm

The exhibition runs until Friday 28th March 10am-6pm.

Please go along and have a look if you are able.

For more information about the exhibition and symposium this Friday

http://speaking-out.co.uk

http://www.embracearts.co.uk

Lydy 2

The first year of my MA course is finished and I have started the process of catching up with my ‘real’ life, apart from the boring stuff – tidying and gardening etc. I thought I would finally update my rather sporadic blog. I am also busy working on something for an exhibition in the New Year, its really exciting and will flex my non drawing muscles! Hopefully I will have something to show for that soon too.

Anyway back to my drawings of Lydy, I posted my first completed portrait a few months ago but  have been slightly distracted from my original intention to complete a series of drawings by the requirements of my course but at last I have finished my second portrait of Lydy.

One of the modules on my course concerns drawing from archives, it took me off in a whole other direction. A complete surprise but totally wonderful, as soon as I figure out how to present it I will post up my work.

I took my first drawing back to show Lydy who fortunately was happy with my first attempt and graciously agreed to sit for me again. This time around it really did feel like I knew her better and I do think this second portrait feels different although perhaps I need time to work out exactly how,perhaps we were both more relaxed.

I hope you like it.

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New Work – Portrait of Lydy

I just wanted to show you my first work in what hopefully will become a series. As with all my pictures I want to apologise for the quality, its really tough getting a good clear photo of a 100 x 70 cm drawing, they always come out too dark without the full contrast, but I hope you can get the idea.

If you would like to see the real thing it is being displayed at Sheffield Hallam University along with some of my other work on the second floor of Cantor Building.

It is a portrait of a wonderful woman called Lydy whose
bravery, already tested beyond the experience of most of us, has extended to allowing a stranger to draw her.

I am extremely grateful for her generosity and graciousness which I hope I have begun to capture.


I will soon begin the next drawing which Lydy sat for after seeing this portrait for the first time, hopefully using the process of drawing to get to know her better and to extend my work into other media.

Any feedback would be really useful, especially if you manage to see it for real!

Thank you

A Blank Piece Of Paper

Yesterday I started my first ‘proper’ drawing since my degree show.

My summer had been filled with making photograms for a couple of exhibitions and so I hadn’t really drawn for a couple of months. Okay I had been to life drawing and doodled a little bit but not really drawn. My drawings can take a long time, somewhere along the process  I always forget to record how long but about fifty plus hours, that’s a long time to spend on something that you might be disappointed with.

I have been deciding on the subject and pose for a few weeks now, looking at photos, choosing and discarding but now that I have started my MA I felt I had to commit to actually doing something.

Yesterday was the day of reckoning, I got up early and taped my paper to the board … then I took it down, it didn’t look right.  I lined my board … and took it down, it was creased. By midday I was ready to go, no, I needed to recheck my plans for another hour before I placed my pencil on the paper and made my first mark.

Why do I find a blank piece of paper so scary?

Its because I know that my work will never be as perfect as it is the moment before I actually start. In my imagination I draw with a talent that I can never replicate in reality.

I think a lot of us are afraid of failure and it can sometimes feel safer to find excuses to not try rather than risk discovering that we just aren’t good enough, but you know if we do that we will never discover that we are good enough.

It took me a long time to try at what I really wanted to do with my life, to believe I was worth the effort of trying, I am not sure yet if I have succeeded.

But you know, just like with my drawing, I can always try again.

UnBroken – Contemporary Kintsugi

I have written before about my love of the Japan craft of repair called kintsugi, if anyone is interested I have a page dedicated to it here.

For me it is the perfect combination of skill and endeavour, the search for perfection and the acceptance of imperfection.

It has a beauty that is dependent on the very faults it seeks to repair, not by hiding those cracks but by celebrating them as part of the life of the bowl.

The question was how to make such an ancient craft my own.

It has been such an influence in the whole of my practice it seemed important to include it in my final exhibition, the question was how. I had been experimenting with throwing bowls that I then scarred myself but they lacked the history of a repaired object.

I wanted an object that everyone could identify with and inspired by British artist Lubaina Himid’s  use of  blue and white china I decided to use it. I am sure we have all eaten off of a blue and white plate, if not at home then at our grandparents or in a quaint tea room. They may not be to our taste but they are part of our lives so I hoped we could all identify with them. Also we all have had experience of breaking a cup or a plate and throwing it away without a second thought.

My plates are not joined perfectly, the cracks have been widened, placing them under stress before repair.

They are healed but altered.

Finally rather than gold I gilded them with graphite pencil after all it has been pencil rather than gold that has healed me.

I placed them alongside my self portrait at scar level to draw your eye along towards the book where the plates echo the round ink dots, each of which represent a broken and altered life.

The title, Unbroken, draws from the definition of maintaining spirit and resilience, of surviving, and a more playful, and grammatically incorrect!, un broken as in repaired.

“Nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect”         

                                                                                                                              Richard Powell                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            

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Self Portrait

For the last eighteen months I have been drawing portraits of people with scars. I have wanted them to be a celebration of imperfection and a counter to what sometimes gets mistaken for society, you know the magazines and films where the already surgically perfected get airbrushed into impossible proportions. There is a unique and geniune beauty about someone who has lived a life and who has come to accept what that life has made them, who accepts all the physical and emotional scars that life has drawn across their body and soul as proof of a journey taken.  I have always known that I am interested in this because of the many scars I have and how difficult I find applying this philosophy personally – I find I am always less tolerant with myself than others.

Anyway, I soon began to realise that each portrait I drew had an element of self portrait in it, I was circling around something I was too scared to execute.  All those wonderful people who agreed to let me draw them were so much braver than me.

At Christmas I drew my first self portrait, it was for my Jan assessment so when it came to having to display it I chose a dark corner in the basement of our studios and hoped no one would notice it. It made me feel physically sick to show it.  I  soon realised it was a pretty bad drawing, I was so scared of  actually looking at myself Ihad rushed it so when it came to deciding what to do for my final degree show I knew I had to redraw it – properly this time.

I have taken twice as long to draw this picture than I usually do, really focusing on each centimetre. In the next few days I have got to hang it in the gallery, that is going to be the toughest bit and I am  not sure how late I will leave it.  A scar isn’t just a mark  on your skin it is the story of a moment in your life. For me, my scar represents what I hate the most about myself, the fear that keeps me awake at night and is the thing that somehow makes me feel ashamed, I can’t quite believe I am going to stick it on a wall and let people see it – let people judge me.  I have to remind myself that it also represents what I feel most proud about myself, what I have endured and survived and the example I want to show my daughter and son.

If I feel like this it might seem weird to you that I am posting this, but I am just sitting in my study typing, alone, this is me just dipping my toe into the water, any reactions are distant and removed. Real life begins on the 1st of June when the exhibition opens.

Its not the best photo but I hope you can see it well enough,it’s a little over life sized and I have framed it with glass so that the viewer can see their reflection over the drawing

Beauty – only skin deep?

A lot of my work is concerned with how our appearance affects the way we think about ourselves so I do spend time thinking about how this notion of beauty has shaped our world. Although I have never considered myself beautiful I have had to adjust my own view of myself as surgery and age has changed me, life traces the passage of time over all our bodies and if we are to remain content with ourselves we have to learn to accept those changes.

We have all grown up hearing phrases  like ‘ugly as sin’ and listening to fairy stories like Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella, Rumpelstiltskin, where the hero/heroines are beautiful and the ugly are there to be punished or redeemed. In the past women have been disfigured and restricted by conventions that demanded corsets and foot binding and it is a shame that today when women in the west have more freedom than ever that so many feel it necessary to starve themselves and undergo surgery.

The trouble is beauty can now be bought, cosmetics, dyes, surgery, dieting can create a facsimile of perfection.  It is interchangeable with success, if the rich and successful are beautiful then by becoming beautiful riches and success will follow. It is used to promote and sell, it is a commodity to exploit.

It would be lovely to think that how you look doesn’t make a difference but you only have to remember back to your school days to know that the beautiful are treated differently, the groups of pretty popular teenagers to whom life seems to come so easily and the groups of awkward plain young people who have already learnt that they have more to prove in life. What is sad though is in a recent worldwide survey only 2 % of women stated they believed themselves to be beautiful.[1]

When we view the rest of the world through the filter of the airbrush then its understandable that our own image will be less perfect and as long as beauty is epitomised by the absence of imperfection then we are all doomed to fall short of that standard.

With medical advances enabling those with disabilities and deformities to live the variety of the human body is only going to widen, if we are to evolve into a happier and more content society then we need to find a way that allows beauty to encompass that variety.

We need to embrace the imperfections that life writes across our bodies. The notion of beauty fundamentally affects how we view the body, others and our own and it has been used to exclude and control but there is hope that it can become inclusive and celebratory because ultimately it is us who write the guidlines.

Here are links to a couple of interesting websites

Changing Faces is a charity that works to promote equality and acceptance for those with facial disfigurement. The whole site is interesting but try taking their face equality survey and see how accepting you are.

http://www.changingfaces.org.uk/Face-Equality/Take-the-face-equality-survey

The Face Research Lab which is has online psychology experiments that judge the facial traits people find attractive and programme for you to create your perfect/average face

http://www.facelab.org


[1] Nancy Etcoff. ‘The Real Truth about Beauty: A Global Report’, Dove White Paper, (2004)                    

<http://www.clubofamsterdam.com/contentarticles/52%20Beauty/dove_white_paper_final.pdf&gt; [accessed 20 March 2011]

The art of trying

“You’re not obligated to win. You’re obligated to keep trying to do the best you can every day”

Marian Wright Edelman

Since last September I have been going to pottery classes, I think you are meant to call them ceramics classes but that doesn’t seem right somehow, after all my aim when I started was to learn to throw a pot.

For as long as I can remember I have wanted to use a potter’s wheel. I am old enough to remember  the ‘interlude’ clip on the telly between programmes that showed a potter raising a vase out of clay.

At school there was a potter’s wheel that was kept safely out of harms way along with the good paint and paper that we were never allowed to use. It gained a mystic for me, something other people got to do.

As part of my work I have researched the Japanese craft of kintsugi and the tradition of tea bowls. I have been inspired by the Japanese aesthetic of Wabi Sabi ( more on that another time maybe).

Last year as part of my degree I went to a talk by Edmund de Waal, the way he talked about his work was inspiring and it gave me the final push, after all I had changed my career and life, surely now I could learn to throw a pot.

You see that’s what is scary about dreams, even small ones. If you don’t ever try to realise them they remain safe. Whilst I had never tried to make a pot I could always imagine that if I did I would be brilliant, people would stand around amazed at my natural genius, by trying I was also risking failure.

Now you don’t often get the opportunity at 48 to try something completely new and I seem to be making a career out of it so I set off to find my pottery class.

It didn’t take me long to find Penny Withers at an open studio, she is a brilliant ceramic artist who has turned out to be a very patient and encouraging teacher.

Her classes have reminded me of the pleasure of learning a skill and are filled with others who create art just for the joy of it. That’s something that is easy to forget when you are coming to the end of your degree and are overwhelmed by deadlines and assessments.

At first when asked what I wanted to try I vaguely said I didn’t mind, whilst eyeing the row of wheels in the corner. It took me four weeks to summon up the courage to try  and unfortunately no one stood around in awe of my god given ability – it was difficult! What Penny made look like effortless poetry was a stressful and strength sapping wrestle with this solid lump of immovable clay.

But, and this is where I get to the trying part, I didn’t give up.

Most of my efforts didn’t make it off the wheel, except to be scraped back into the recycle bin. When after what seemed like dozens of attempts I raised a very wobbly and lumpen bowl from the clay the relief was immense. Yes relief, the fear of complete failure had haunted me, I didn’t want to be bad, I might never be good but please just don’t make me bad.

Any pot that had managed to stagger into life, however poor a creation, was fired and glazed, I wanted to chart my progress. Each pot makes me smile, I use them for soup and cereal and as the tea bowls I initially set out to create. They are far from perfect, but their imperfections make them sweeter to me, they remind me that imperfection brings with it its own beauty.

I may never manage to throw my perfect tea bowl but I will keep on trying.

Penny’s website http://www.freeformceramics.co.uk/

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