Met up with Nathan Hackett and drew 'im with markers.
His clockwork orange eye was accurate at the time of drawing. We had way too much coffee.
Saturday, 15 September 2012
Coffee & Sugar.
Met up with Nathan Hackett and drew 'im with markers.
His clockwork orange eye was accurate at the time of drawing. We had way too much coffee.
Friday, 14 September 2012
Local News for Local Dogs.
Daily Drawing Challenge: 14/09/12
Whenever I walk around my town there are things I want to draw. I tend to just make a mental note of them, or photograph them and never get around to the drawing. Today's drawing-a-day has broken this cycle; a dog outside the newsagents who has been left out of the loop.
Daily Drawing Challenge: 13/09/12
Thank you to my boyfriend for yielding my insistence on scanning this when we got home.
Wednesday, 12 September 2012
Daily Drawing Challenge: 12/09/12
Seeing this as a good opportunity to create regularly without inhibition, I will also ensure to leave all drawings unedited as part of accepting them just as they are - aww.
Along with fellow illustrators, I will share my drawings every day on Drawing Days' Facebook page and Pinterest board, where you can watch the project unfold.
Friday, 7 September 2012
INSPIRATION:
When asked to do another piece for Another Escape #3 I jumped at the chance, particularly elated to have been asked to direct as well as illustrate my own article. I chose a subject matter that I have held close to my chest throughout my development as a creative type; the relationship between inspiration and creative drive. Often described as a moment of illumination, inspiration tends to be seen as a gift or a blessing, but in this article I wanted to bring back the individual's ownership over their ideas and incite the possibilities of making your own inspiration, or working without it and seeing what happens.
A quote that particularly resonated with me on this issue came from the letters of Tchaikovsky;
"We must always work, and a self-respecting artist must not fold his hands on the pretext that he is not in the mood. If we wait for the mood, without endeavouring to meet it half-way, we easily become indolent and apathetic. We must be patient and believe that inspiration will come to those who can master their disinclination.”
A quote that particularly resonated with me on this issue came from the letters of Tchaikovsky;
"We must always work, and a self-respecting artist must not fold his hands on the pretext that he is not in the mood. If we wait for the mood, without endeavouring to meet it half-way, we easily become indolent and apathetic. We must be patient and believe that inspiration will come to those who can master their disinclination.”
I kept a bright 3-colour palette for the accompanying illustrations; something a bit new for me but that I really enjoyed as it helped define the images as a solid set, securing yellow as an effective highlight throughout. There were lots of bits and pieces generated around the idea of trial, error and perseverance which in themselves are quite a nice consequence of playful and explorative visual approaches to developing ideas.
The full article will be available in the soon-to-be-released Another Escape Issue 3.
And I'd bet it's going to be the best yet.
Friday, 31 August 2012
Rabbit Rabbit Rabbit.
At the moment I'm working on my first children's book project, illustrating lots (and lots) of rabbits for Penny Shackleton's upcoming publication The Tales of Bounder The Bunny. It's been an enjoyably hairy process so far, developing the different characters in an attempt to channel some of the joy Beatrix Potter brought me as a child. Digger and Higher take the role of Bounder's adopted parents when he escapes from his hutch and sets off on an adventure into the wild. Crazy kid.
Sunday, 12 August 2012
Finding Myself / My Feet.
This is me, Eliza Thornberry Louise Byng.
Having recently graduated from university, it'd be hard not to have some form of identity crisis. Without the label of 'student' to slap onto hangover days and without group projects to discuss forcibly and dwell upon I was shell-shocked to have suddenly moved away from Bournemouth and my creative counterparts, presented with a new kind of freedom. To get myself drawing again, and maybe think about what sort of illustrator I am to become outside of a driven academic environment, I encapsulated myself in an image.
As just one in a new crop of arts graduates it's mighty hard to feel special, not to mention on a road to any kind of prosperity. Every article I read describes a downward slope from here, what with the depressing economic forecast and not only a lack of jobs, but also the idea that we all become unbearably unemployable and full of ourselves the moment we receive our degree certificates.
Admittedly I don't understand the ins and outs of what I'm going to do having left the 18-year-long comfort of education. Maybe none of us really do, but maybe that's the most exciting part. The creative industries constitute one of the fastest-growing sectors in the UK, and my course didn't leave me high and dry as to the realities of the importance of networking, pushing hard to be noticed and presenting ourselves professionally. The fact that we are equipped with self-motivation, innovation and bravery gives us a good chance to find our place within creative society and in turn shape it. Perhaps it will allow us to make our own futures, our own jobs, our own solutions. It certainly can't be a bloody bad thing.
Further reading: Portrait of an art graduate, circa 2012 on The Guardian online.
Having recently graduated from university, it'd be hard not to have some form of identity crisis. Without the label of 'student' to slap onto hangover days and without group projects to discuss forcibly and dwell upon I was shell-shocked to have suddenly moved away from Bournemouth and my creative counterparts, presented with a new kind of freedom. To get myself drawing again, and maybe think about what sort of illustrator I am to become outside of a driven academic environment, I encapsulated myself in an image.
As just one in a new crop of arts graduates it's mighty hard to feel special, not to mention on a road to any kind of prosperity. Every article I read describes a downward slope from here, what with the depressing economic forecast and not only a lack of jobs, but also the idea that we all become unbearably unemployable and full of ourselves the moment we receive our degree certificates.
Admittedly I don't understand the ins and outs of what I'm going to do having left the 18-year-long comfort of education. Maybe none of us really do, but maybe that's the most exciting part. The creative industries constitute one of the fastest-growing sectors in the UK, and my course didn't leave me high and dry as to the realities of the importance of networking, pushing hard to be noticed and presenting ourselves professionally. The fact that we are equipped with self-motivation, innovation and bravery gives us a good chance to find our place within creative society and in turn shape it. Perhaps it will allow us to make our own futures, our own jobs, our own solutions. It certainly can't be a bloody bad thing.
Further reading: Portrait of an art graduate, circa 2012 on The Guardian online.
Wednesday, 25 July 2012
Feral: Selected Highlights
In the days that followed the bustling private view, it was easier to see the show as a visual document and I took the time to view it with fresh eyes. Arriving before the show opened in order to invidulate, the brewery held its breath and felt more like a museum of bizarre artefacts, now with their own presence within this silent and gargantuan industrial space.
My own drawings hung still, held aloft only by meagre masking tape. Inarguably simplistic in their presentation (especially considering the photographer exhibiting next to me had built their own soil-covered room to house their images), I enjoyed the edition of the brick canvas but largely allowed the drawings to speak for themselves.
The ongoing project from which they were taken, Please Wait… documents scenes of suspended motion in a culture that never stops. I see the ordinary situations depicted here as exquisite moments of serenity where nothing is demanded of us and we are free to think and to exist, so took great joy in seeing people pausing to reflect on them for a time. Admittedly speaking against the priorities of every coffee-fuelled Londoner that passed me on the escalator on the way in, the drawings express the philosophy that waiting can be everything that we are rushing around trying to achieve. Perhaps they should try it.
Synthia magazine in situ in the reading area.
Through the space.
The Wilson Project by George Bills.
One of my favourite things about how the show functioned was the artwork's interaction with the idiosyncratic brewery space. Artists worked directly onto the walls and floor, Mackenzie's stairs looked as if they could have once been part of the room's structure and Hastie & Clothier's digital pieces were framed by pipes and industrial remnants; the environment was embraced to symbiotic effect. The vernacular of the space did not detract away from the artefacts placed there, but did add something new that the pieces successfully bounced off; a reward to those artists who created artwork possessing the ability to hold its own whilst not being afraid to absorb qualities and moods from its surroundings.
My own drawings hung still, held aloft only by meagre masking tape. Inarguably simplistic in their presentation (especially considering the photographer exhibiting next to me had built their own soil-covered room to house their images), I enjoyed the edition of the brick canvas but largely allowed the drawings to speak for themselves.
The ongoing project from which they were taken, Please Wait… documents scenes of suspended motion in a culture that never stops. I see the ordinary situations depicted here as exquisite moments of serenity where nothing is demanded of us and we are free to think and to exist, so took great joy in seeing people pausing to reflect on them for a time. Admittedly speaking against the priorities of every coffee-fuelled Londoner that passed me on the escalator on the way in, the drawings express the philosophy that waiting can be everything that we are rushing around trying to achieve. Perhaps they should try it.
Left: Agent Zigzag series by Synthia magazine in situ in the reading area.
Children drawing Hollie Mackenzie's Downfall.
Through the space.
Thames Trumpet floor vinyl by Kieran Leonard.
The Wilson Project by George Bills.One of my favourite things about how the show functioned was the artwork's interaction with the idiosyncratic brewery space. Artists worked directly onto the walls and floor, Mackenzie's stairs looked as if they could have once been part of the room's structure and Hastie & Clothier's digital pieces were framed by pipes and industrial remnants; the environment was embraced to symbiotic effect. The vernacular of the space did not detract away from the artefacts placed there, but did add something new that the pieces successfully bounced off; a reward to those artists who created artwork possessing the ability to hold its own whilst not being afraid to absorb qualities and moods from its surroundings.
Tuesday, 24 July 2012
Feral: Opening Night
Feral opened its doors to the public on 5th July. Sharing the private view date with multiple other visual arts graduate shows including Mixed Special, Now What, and Rare, London was somewhat spoilt for choice on this night. Nevertheless, Feral held its own against these big names and received an enormous body of visitors, ready and willing for a wild night of creative curiosities.
Highlights of the night included the space-suit coated Fred Nicholas performing "Beyond", the popular illustration reading area, and the custom Feral wolf tattoos. Here is me repping mine in front of my exhibited collection of drawings, 'Please Wait...'.
The chance to relax and have a drink or four with our fantastic tutors amidst a sea of happy visitors was a fitting and truly priceless reward for the taxing final year ails. Thanks for a great show everyone.
All photographs in this post are by Laurie Ramsell.
Highlights of the night included the space-suit coated Fred Nicholas performing "Beyond", the popular illustration reading area, and the custom Feral wolf tattoos. Here is me repping mine in front of my exhibited collection of drawings, 'Please Wait...'.
The chance to relax and have a drink or four with our fantastic tutors amidst a sea of happy visitors was a fitting and truly priceless reward for the taxing final year ails. Thanks for a great show everyone.
All photographs in this post are by Laurie Ramsell.
Monday, 23 July 2012
Feral: Transformation
On 3rd July the graft to transform The Old Truman Brewery into our end of year show 'Feral' began. The largest exhibition space in the Free Range event, T1 - as pictured - was vast, empty, and full of promise, set to become the home of the work of AUCB fine art, illustration and photography graduates for the next week.
A strong sense of community was felt from the moment we arrived, with the vast yet mutually beneficial task of constructing the greatest show we could requiring people to work together and share the load. From unloading all the artwork from the vans - most precious, heavy, or both - and carrying it up two flights of stairs, to assembling the boards, painting, installing the work, and cleaning up, the days leading up to the show were back breaking, amplified by the heat of the room.
The resultant design was free-flowing and open and made the most of the brewery's expanse without filling it, aiming to cement itself in people's memory by reflecting the blue sky coming from above in the colour of the constructed walls. The curation process was fairly organic, with work blending between disciplines and themes to lead the visitor around the space but leave them room to explore. With plants, broken glass, costumes and furry bits, it was easy to create a surprise around every corner due to the diversity and wildness of this year's output.
It was unmistakable that the drive for all was to create an exhibition arena that showcased the hard work we had already put in throughout the year to the best possible degree, and I think what we created together in this space was a testament to both our personal efforts to create thought-provoking boundary-pushing work, and the efforts of those who unconditionally helped us along the way.
All photographs in this post are by Laurie Ramsell.
A strong sense of community was felt from the moment we arrived, with the vast yet mutually beneficial task of constructing the greatest show we could requiring people to work together and share the load. From unloading all the artwork from the vans - most precious, heavy, or both - and carrying it up two flights of stairs, to assembling the boards, painting, installing the work, and cleaning up, the days leading up to the show were back breaking, amplified by the heat of the room.
It was unmistakable that the drive for all was to create an exhibition arena that showcased the hard work we had already put in throughout the year to the best possible degree, and I think what we created together in this space was a testament to both our personal efforts to create thought-provoking boundary-pushing work, and the efforts of those who unconditionally helped us along the way.
All photographs in this post are by Laurie Ramsell.
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