Painting of Julie by Russell
THE CREST OF THE WAVE, OR THE SLOUGH OF DESPOND by Russell Lumb
My life, of late, has revolved around Thursday’s afternoon painting tutorial with Tom, and the evening Life Class; possibly confirmation of my shrinking world since retirement in 2009. But it also illustrates my enviable freedom to concentrate, more or less, on something which was previously an occasional luxury. Having now settled into this rhythm of the fast approaching, or rapidly fading Life Class, I realise that there is an element missing from my latest mission; predetermined targets and their recordable attainment.
Unlike many human activities, life drawing/painting appears to be a continuous, unending cycle of striving for “improvement”, and defeated retrenchment, largely unpunctuated by certificates, diplomas or other fixed markers of specific achievement. My entire professional career, as an architect, was a mind-boggling series of ticked boxes, as a project moved imperceptibly toward completion. No guarantee of architectural quality, but hard evidence of one’s existence.
Perhaps I am unusually conditioned toward box-ticking, and currently have too much time to think about my art, but I find it difficult simply to follow my nose; I am constantly looking for the next marker, like a small boy with an incomplete stamp collection. My last five life paintings form a neat set- another of my unhealthy preoccupations- but do not, individually, appear to demonstrate direction or “improvement”. However, if I look back at earlier work, particularly over the period of Tom’s tutorials, then I can see development, and yesterday’s admonishment for slipping back into formulaic graphics was a timely jolt. How can I, concurrently, be nagged by slow progress whilst coasting intellectually? I am reminded to stop bleating, and to enjoy the journey (as Lloyds Bank would have it).
My own struggle was mirrored and echoed around the studio last night, for we all experience the same emotions. Barry is currently surfing the crest of his vorticism, with another beautifully- proportioned, deft drawing; if only he could complete his loft conversion with equal panache. Roger H was also on the up, developing a rough, half-time photofit into a powerful portrait of new model Julie by the final whistle. Some credit is due here to Julie, who held her pose very well, despite the obvious disappointment of travelling from Nottingham only to be denied a ride in the Tardis ( out of service for a refit, including a new pollen filter).
Dick, used to viewing everything over a light box, was convinced that fame was postponed yet again by defective paints, and I overheard Tom advising him to stop adding water; but they could have been discussing single malts. Whatever, Dick produced a big, strong, monochrome image which, like Sue’s coloured version, could be transformed with a big brush, some ink and a little confidence. Perhaps they are suffering Post-Tuscan withdrawal, but their despondency will be short-lived.
Like me, Sandra is currently producing a set, in her case of lace-like, tinted drawings which are simultaneously powerful and delicate. It all looks very organised from the outside, but, no doubt, will not be satisfying the ever-enquiring Sandra. In Contrast, Steven appears to be working up to a quiet revolution; his normally self-sufficient cast of perfect miniature people seems unsettled, as though they have seen the first waves of colour flooding their own, or more likely other people’s horizons. Will Steven recognise this democratic urge, or will his benevolent dictatorship continue apace?
Tom proved, once again, his theory that every third painting is special, with the best of his recent set of small portraits; an object lesson for me in skin tones, and their effective deployment, while Tony and Neil trashed my confidence-wave theory with more trademark, consistent drawings; a pair of very different, but equally firm lighthouses shining their reassuring beacons across the fitful sea of emotion-wracked hopefuls.
If you have not featured in this blog, it is not because your work does not deserve a mention, more that, as a self-absorbed introvert, I do not yet link all names and faces, and ,without the gallery as a prompt, struggle to remember. In time I will make fun of you too.
Paintings and drawings by Barry, Dick, Hadyn, Ivan, Lesley, Mike, Neil, Peter, Roger H, Sandra, Steve, Steven, Tom, Tony and featured artist Russell
