I’m in the running for the 2017 ING Discerning Eye Drawing Bursary!

Roy Eastland, 'Photo booth portrait 1', silverpoint drawing, ING DIscerning Eye Drawing Bursary

I’ve had my work selected for the 2017 ING Discerning Eye Drawing Bursary and I’m very pleased about it.

I’m thrilled to be in the running for the bursary and I’m also very much looking forward to having people see my work in the flesh. Photographs and scans give an impression of what they look like but they can’t convey the subtleties of the combination of the metallic traces and the scratches on the gesso surfaces. You really need to see the drawings for real and from various distances and to be able to look at them from the side as well as from face-on. It feels good to know that they are going to be looked at.

The ING Discerning Eye Drawing Bursary exhibition will be at The Mall Galleries, London, from mid-November, alongside the larger ING Discerning Eye exhibition (my drawing, ‘Margate Imperialists, 1930s’, has been selected for that as well). The winner of the bursary will be announced at the private view on 16th November. I’m not sure how many artists are selected for the Drawing Bursary exhibition but I think it’s around half a dozen or so. It’ll be a contemporary drawing exhibition in its own right and it’s going to feel good to be part of it. Of course I hope I win the bursary money (it would make a huge difference to what I am able to achieve with my art if I were to get it) but I can’t let myself to think about that too much (fingers crossed though!).

This particular drawing (Photo booth portrait drawing 1’) is one of the silverpoint drawings that will be on show. It’s one of a series of silverpoint drawings based on photo booth images. These drawings are drawings of moments when a person sat alone and still for a moment and waited for the sequence of four automatically timed flash photographs to be played out. It happens to be of my mum but the same would be the case for anyone and I’d love to find some photo booth images of people I’ve never known to draw from.

The slightly mistimed ones are more interesting than the ones which were the least bad ones (they never look good do they) that become images for bus passes and such like. For some reason or other an intact sequence of three from a strip of four survive and this drawing is based on one of them.

The drawings also contain a block of repeated, hand-written, lines of text. The text is made up of remembered speech and familiar stories. The lines of words are drawn over each other and become difficult to make sense of but some repeated phrases and words come through so that the stories come to the surface as fragments of events and memories.

The block of text is also a kind of drawing in itself. The lines of words are perhaps suggestive of waves and they conjure a kind of pictorial depth but they also flatten pictorial space at too. I hope people will look closely at both the image of the face and at the words; perhaps the after-image of each will play on the other and create a sense of subtle movement (life?).

I like the idea of making art which incorporates traces of multiple moments of time in one place. But it’s really up to the viewer to see whatever they see and even though I might be conscious of putting a lot of ideas into my drawings I really don’t mind if others ‘get it’ or not: all I can do is to offer these works as objects to spend time with and to notice what comes to mind while in their company.

Anyway, if you are in London in the second half on November, have a look at the exhibition and see what you think.

The Discerning Eye Exhibition runs from the 16th until the 26th November.

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‘Margate Imperialists 1930s’

margate imperiasts 1930s

Margate Imperialists 1930s, 2017, silver on gesso on board, 21cm x 30cm.

Work on this drawing has come to an end.  I could carry on working on it but I shan’t.

The drawing is based on a small photographic image on a postcard taken somewhere in Margate in the 1930s.  My guess is that the people here were dressed for an Empire Day event.  This is one of a number of drawings based on the same image.  It is one of a series of drawings based on images of people dressed in costumes of some sort and with a Margate connection.

 

Sketchbooks exhibited in The Drawing Room at The Beaney in Canterbury

The Drawing Room gallerySketchbooks on show in The Drawing Room galleryThe Drawing Room at The Beaney

I’ve installed an exhibition of my drawings and sketchbooks in The Drawing Room of The Beaney in Canterbury (the full name for the museum is: ‘The Beaney House of Art and Knowledge’ but that’s a bit of a mouth full and so everyone calls it ‘The Beaney’).  It’s on until 5th January 2014.  http://www.canterbury.co.uk/Beaney/explore/Armchair-Residency-Roy-Eastland.aspx

Here is a draft of the fourth blog for my Artist Residency at The Beaney:

The Beaney House of Knowledge and Art: The Front Room ‘Armchair Artist Residency’ blog.

Blog number four, December 2013:

I’ve installed an exhibition of my drawings and sketchbooks in The Drawing Room at The Beaney.  I managed to squeeze everything that is in the exhibition into a couple of large shoulder bags and lug the whole lot over to Canterbury on the number 8 bus.  The journey from Margate takes the best part of an hour and I’ve been doing this trip a lot since becoming the ‘Front Room Artist Armchair Resident’.  This journey has become an important aspect of my ‘Residency’ at The Beaney.  The bus takes me along a line in the landscape which has been there for centuries.  Upstairs at the front of the bus is a good place to sit and notice things and to let my mind wander and to notice myself noticing.

My exhibition consists of twenty sketchbooks and sixteen loose drawings (I’ve posted a video tour of it on my youtube channel to give you an idea of it).  The loose drawings were done in The Beaney as part of the ‘Front Room Artist Armchair residency’ and the sketchbooks are all recent ones containing drawings of people.  When I installed the work I made the decision to place drawings so that they might subtly relate to each other or direct the gaze in certain ways.  There is no hidden message or overarching theme here.  I simply thought that their placing might bring something extra into play in the mind of the viewer – it is whimsical.  I offer my drawings as things to look at and it’s up to the viewer to look at the drawings and notice things and let the mind wander.

None of these drawings were done for the purpose of being exhibited.  They weren’t designed as ‘Works of Art’ or with an exhibition in mind.  Each drawing was done separately and for its own sake.  If they share a theme, it is that they are all drawings that pay attention to the physical presence of things.  There are drawings of inanimate objects (made of marble, bronze and silver) that were made to look like people and there are drawings of real people being still.  It’s a wonderful thing when someone is happy to be still and let you draw them.  If I did nothing else with my life, drawing people would be a good use of a lifetime.  I wish I could do it more often.

We change our minds when we draw.  ‘Objective Drawing’ is a process of continual revision (a good rule-of-thumb is that if your drawing isn’t going wrong then you’re just not trying hard enough!).  Drawings are the trace-evidence of a mind making sense of things.  They show us that someone was here and that they were interested in the presence of someone or of something outside of themselves.

Across the room from my drawings is a small oblong-shaped piece of vellum covered in neat pen-and-ink hand-writing: The Godwine Charter.  A thousand years ago it had a practical function as a legal document but now it has an afterlife as an object of contemplation in a museum.  We can appreciate it as a kind of drawing.  Hand-writing and the kind of lines you find in drawings are similar things.  Both of them are products of human touch and of the time it took to draw them.  That particular human presence and that particular moment of time are subtly replayed every time another person sees it.  It is both trivial and wonderful.  A similar effect can be felt in places too.  My bus journey to Canterbury draws me along a line in the landscape which was already old when that scribe’s pen was forming those letters on that piece of vellum which sits across the room from my drawings.

Museums are full of things that have survived to hint at what was here and what took place.  They put us in company with people separated from us by a distance of time.  I wonder how long my sketchbooks will last.  I wonder what will become of them.  I wonder who my drawings are for.