Tag: Art

Art is not just for artists – Part 2

Last week, I looked at art from the perspective of the observer. This week, I plan to show you the many benefits art can bring to the participant. My focus here is mainly on the visual arts – so I can include photos. But really, the arts span a great range of activities from music, to dance to literature. All of them have similar benefits. All of them are life enhancing.

Observation studies

The greatest gift that studying art, in my very amateur way, has given me is to enhance my vision. Subsequent to taking an art class at my local school with a truly gifted teacher, I started to see the world differently. The shape of things, the details and the colours all became more vivid and more alluring. The world, in a nutshell, became infinitely more fascinating and beautiful.

And with that came the desire to capture that beauty in my own way. Because art doesn’t need to be gallery worthy to be a joy. We can keep a private art journal and never show anyone if we wish. But if we are willing to share, encourage and inspire each other, so much the better.

Colour and form Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

I took a photo of my pencil shavings because I loved the combination of the orange and green and the contrast between the tiny shards of colour and the wiggly forms of the shavings. Later, I incorporated them into a picture.

And the best thing about participating in art is that it allows us to focus with some intensity on our project. If meditation is a struggle, I’d advise trying some form of art. Whilst chewing our pencils or practising our piano scales, we are seldom able to concentrate on anything else. Our mind clears and we find ourselves in the zone – a Zen like state of peace.

An antidote to a crazy world

With the current news cycle, one might be forgiven for thinking that the making of art was a rather frivolous occupation. This Saturday was emotionally enervating as we stood with Mariia at the vigil marking the second anniversary of the full-scale invasion of Ukraine. It’s been a tough week.

Yet, rather than being less important, art and creativity become even more important during such times. Nick Cave puts it perfectly when he says:

Yes, the world is sick, and yes it can be cruel, but it would be a whole lot sicker and a whole lot crueler if it were not for painters and filmmakers and songwriters – the beauty-makers – wading through the blood and muck of things, whilst reaching skyward to draw down the very heavens themselves.

Nick Cave, Red Hand files 274

And as if to prove his point, on the Sunday, we attended a music fundraiser for Ukraine. Many of the same folks were present, but here they joined in song and dance and amazing cake. The tears were swept aside by the act of creating together.

Art therapy

Ever since the First World War, when soldiers were given simple tasks such as basket weaving to soothe their frayed nerves and tortured souls, we have been aware of the very great benefits art can bring to those suffering from mental afflictions.

‘Art has the power to heal wounds and soothe souls.’

Grayson Perry

The mental health charity, Mind, lists some of the benefits art can bring including giving participants an alternative way of expression than talking. It can help flexibility in thinking and aid in self-awareness. It even seems to make participants more comfortable in therapy.

For those dealing with physical impairments, it is something that can be enjoyed at home. If you are unable to work, it is a great boon to be able to create. We all want to give to the world, and this is one way that we can. My amazing friend Sarah Rose (see below right) has used craft as part of her campaign to improve hospital care for patients with multiple and complex needs. They were invited to create their own bunting and together it creates a powerful message.

Create!

In a time of destruction, create something.

Maxine Hong Kingston

Wise words indeed. Just as kindness is an antidote to cruelty, art is an antidote to destruction. And the act of creation helps relieve the sense of helplessness we may feel in the face of so much annihilation.

Art supplies

So let’s get started! The great thing about art is that you need so little to begin. A pencil and a piece of paper will do. For colours, only the primary ones plus black and white are necessary, since every other one can be made from them.

I confess that I have a bit of a stationary/art supplies addiction – but as addictions go it is pretty harmless and inexpensive. What I would recommend is buying the very best supplies that you can afford. I recently indulged in four Caran D’Ache watercolour pencils. They really are superb!

Of course, with so many amazing things on the market, it is rather easy to get carried away. I love the convenience of pencils and paint pens, so I’m sticking with those at the moment. You may prefer watercolour or gauche. The mediums you enjoy viewing are likely to be the ones you’ll enjoy using.

Many people shy away from art with the refrain ‘But I can’t draw.’ Of course, Da Vincis are few and far between, but we can all learn. A great way to start is with colouring, since the design is there and you simply have to work out the colours that blend together nicely. Postcards double as thoughtful missives and the act of colouring is a perfect way in to mindfulness practise.

Wise owl Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Once you feel a little more confident in your fine motor skills and colour choices, you can work on copying. (All the best artists start this way.) My 15 Minutes Art book has encouraged me to work with different mediums – soft pencil, bold paint pens – and is helping me learn to draw efficiently

And of course, there are endless options of courses, workshops and videos on YouTube and the internet.

Playing

And once you are feeling a little more confident, you can start to play. I use the word very deliberately, because if we make our scribblings more formal, we may just lose the creativity and zest that we are looking for.

Everyone has the potential to be an artist; you just have to tap into your imagination and let it flow.

Grayson Perry

In play, we allow for mistakes and imperfections. Should we be pleased with an idea, we can always do it again more carefully. Just as in writing, we need to get thoughts on paper first before we try compose more formally.

Messing about Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Home economics

The great thing about making art is that it can fund itself through what you save on cards, gifts, wrapping paper etc. In a time of mass production, a bespoke card or carefully wrapped gift gives more pleasure than its store bought counterpart. It is also a very cheap form of entertainment!

You have everything you need

All day and every day, we are bombarded with messages to buy, buy, buy. Yet, we already have everything we need.

And then, I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough?

Vincent Van Gogh

The best things in life are (or nearly free). Foraged seed heads and feathers, pine cones and pebbles make elegant arrangements.

Foraged treasures
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

A song in the morning will lift the spirts; a doodle a day and journal writing helps to keep me sane. When we make art part of our way of living, we can start to make our world a truly beautiful place.

Art is not just for artists – Part one

Art is on my mind at the moment. Everywhere I turn, I am reminded that it plays a significant role in our lives. At home, I am immersed in a sequel to The Artist’s Way; I’m joyfully working my way through my 15 Minutes Art book and reading whenever I get a chance.

My home town is positively flowering with art on every corner. The beautiful Towner Gallery, below, is hosting the prestigious Turner Prize and, knowing a good tourist attraction when it sees it, Eastbourne council and the gallery have filled the town with art events, sculptures and installations.

If you are interested, here is the website with all the attractions: https://townereastbourne.org.uk/whats-on/eastbourne-alive

The Towner Art Gallery Image: Wendy Barton

Because art matters

In this time of austerity cuts and a cost of living crisis, one may be pardoned for asking why precious public money is being spent on something so frivolous. I hope to answer that question below, but essentially, it is because life is filled with uncertainty, difficulty and hardship that we need art to uplift and inspire us.

For the benefits of art to be felt though, it needs to be available to everyone. Once, when taking a taxi to the Towner, I got chatting with the driver. Despite living in the town, he had never been, because he did not feel that it was somewhere for him.

I mentioned that it was free, that it was funded by his council tax and though some of the exhibits were a bit bonkers, there was always something worth seeing. If nothing else, the building is a gorgeous space with a lovely cafe.

Because the problem with Art with a capital A is that more often than not it puts off the very people who would benefit from it.

The enemy of Art

My driver was smart and articulate. I suspected that the thing making the gallery off-putting was what my family refers to as ‘art bollocks’. Please excuse the language, but it makes me incandescently angry that the notes accompanying works of art are often entirely unintelligible to even the most educated reader.

At the opening of the Turner Prize exhibition, I bumped into our former MP who said he thought he must be rather stupid, because he really didn’t understand what the artist’s notes were saying. There is nothing wrong with his intelligence. And if a former MP finds them threatening and demeaning, it doesn’t give much hope to the rest of us.

Here is an example of art speak on an earlier exhibition by the Turner Prize winner, Jesse Darling. ‘… how Darling explores systems of power, such as governments, religion, ideology, empire and technology, can be as fragile and contingent as multiple bodies.’ (Dr Giulia Smith on History is What Hurts: The Politics of Debility) Confused? You will be.

I mentioned to the taxi driver that the notes were deliberately obscure and to ignore them. Yet, when I bumped into him again, he still hadn’t been.

Ironically, when you hear Darling speak, he is completely natural and a rather sweet young man, trying to get his message across as clearly as possible. His slightly chaotic exhibition sought to show ‘the messy reality of modern British life’ and if they had used that quote, I suspect more people would have responded more positively to an installation that might be confused with an assemblage at the dump.

That said, I love modern art. These artists are stretching and provoking. They demand that we engage with their art rather than passively enjoying it. Grayson Perry said that ‘Art is the mirror that reflects society and prompts change.’ I’m not sure that I would credit it with such power, but it is an element of all the threads that together shape us as a society. His wonderful book, Playing to the Gallery is a must read for anyone bamboozled by the modern art scene.

Community art

That said, it is possible to engage an audience young and old. Throughout the town, there is an ‘Elmer trail’ of elephants painted in a variety of styles. The Towner one replicates the Lothar Gotz mural on the gallery wall. The trail takes you all around the town and it is a fabulous way to entertain the kids during a rainy half term.

Use the arrow to see more.

Though doubtless designed for the under 10s, adults are equally charmed by these adorable elephants. They simply make us smile. Thus, the first purpose of art, to uplift us, is fulfilled.

Public art

The best art, to my mind, is public art. Storing precious art works in a bank vault with the hope of it accruing value is the most cynical (and in my mind criminal) waste. Artists do what they do to be seen and to express their thoughts. Just like writers and poets and musicians, they have a theme – or an argument – that they wish to make and which their art expresses. Darling’s is that contemporary life is messy – just like his carefully curated, messy installation.

Mary Shemza and Michael Rokowitz’s The invisible enemy should not exist.
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Outside the Towner stands the magnificent sculpture that once graced the fourth plinth in Trafalgar Square. It is made entirely from recycled date cans. Why? To visually present the cost of the wars in Iraq to the people and the environment. Prior to these conflicts, Iraq’s main export, after oil, was dates. Now, of the 30 million date palms in the country, only 3 million are left.

The sculpture of the Winged Bull at Nineveh, upon which this was modelled, was destroyed by Isis, but many others of these sculptures were taken by colonial powers – including the British. The artist is noting that not only have cultural treasures been lost, but the economy that supports them.

Whilst reminding us of Iraq’s dispossession, this impressive work also brings joy on an aesthetic level. We are moved and inspired by its presence. Art has transformed a negative to a positive.

The role of public art is beautifully and comprehensively put by AmherstMA.gov.

Public art adds enormous value to the cultural, aesthetic and economic vitality of a community. It is now a well-accepted principle of urban design that public art contributes to a community’s identity, fosters community pride and a sense of belonging, and enhances the quality of life for its residents and visitors.

AmherstMA.gov

The presence of art in a town can bring economic as well as personal gains. Tourists are flooding to this exhibition and boosting local business. The locals are rightly proud of their town as the backdrop to so much exceptional art. Our shared experience brings us together.

Next week, I shall look at the personal benefits that art can bring to our health and sense of well-being. I hope you will join me then.

Swedish Lessons

After years of learning the Swedish language; shopping at the ScandiKitchen and watching more Scandi-noir than is probably good for me, I finally got to Stockholm.

My obsession with Scandinavia started young (I blame my genes) and my son had an Erasmus term at Lund University. Yet, somehow, despite my family’s love of travel, we only managed to stay there for a mere 48 hours. Now was my chance to really explore a country that I admired.

Folk art Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Getting it right

My love of all things Scandi was not based solely on the landscape and art. It fundamentally rested on the idea that Sweden, Norway and Denmark had finally cracked the code on how to live right. They were more egalitarian than anywhere on Earth – something any woman would appreciate; they valued Nature and worked hard on green solutions; they lived simply and well, accepting that to support a caring society where no-one was left behind would cost them money – a lot of money. Paying 50% in taxes was viewed as a reasonable exchange for an excellent education system, brilliant infrastructure and healthcare.

A pristine and reliable Metro
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

And our trip to Stockholm bore this out. Everyone was prosperous, the Metro efficient, the boulevards wide and the roads for cars narrow. The only problem for pedestrians was to avoid being run over by electric scooters and bicycles.

Art for art’s sake

As a bonus, the Swedes also saw the value of art to uplift our spirits. I don’t think that I have ever visited a more uniformly beautiful city. Every building had been built with care and few rose beyond four storeys. The area where we were staying was a mix of well designed modern (in concentric circles) and glorious art nouveau with a hint of classical.

Every building had a sense of style, from the triangulated balconies of the modern builds to the embellishments of the older ones. No window, coal shuttle or door was left plain.

Living space

Unlike most cities, one never had the sense of being crowed. If anything, it was rather quieter than most suburban areas in the UK. I know that Stockholm had lost many residents to the countryside for the upcoming Midsummer celebrations, but we arrived well before that.

Where is everyone? A mile from the centre
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Like London, it was filled with parks – but not the awe-inspiring huge variety of Hyde or St James’, but small ones dotted around the residential areas. And at its edges was the water giving access to miles of forest fringed coastline.

It was a city designed for outdoor living, for appreciating one’s free time to picnic with friends or let the children run free. It was like no other city I’ve seen.

A private sculpture garden Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Who would not enjoy an evening looking at the fountain at the centre of this very planned development? We looked inside the lower floors to see a communal space with small kitchen for residents to enjoy. Genius.

Except …

Despite all these advantages and unprecedented affluence, the Swedes did not seem overly happy. There is an expression in Swedish, ”En känsla av vemod” or a feeling of melancholy or sadness, which seemed to be manifest in the faces I saw.

For a society that seems as close to a utopia as humanly possible, this was a strange contradiction. When we passed people in the street in our usual smiling, friendly way, we were often met with blank stares or worse, grimaces. My husband and I determined to crack this by smiling and saying hello to everyone. We had very limited success – except with the immigrants who all greeted us in an equally cheery fashion and often looking somewhat surprised that anyone had addressed them.

Smile … please!
Image: Austin Wade on Unsplash

Needless to say, these immigrants were doing the jobs that no-one else felt inclined to do: kitchen work, cleaning and manning the Metro. They enjoyed the benefits of a very civilised society, but they were hardly of it. But despite the hardship of their present lives, I’m sure like migrants everywhere, they could see a brighter future for their children.

A puzzle

Perhaps one should not judge a people by their expressions and not smiling may simply be an indicator of taking life seriously or thoughtfulness or a more private approach. Perhaps not smiling is their way of showing that they are happy. Sweden ranks consistently in the top ten of the happiest countries in the world. (See this article for a scholarly approach to happiness: https://worldhappiness.report/ed/2020/the-nordic-exceptionalism-what-explains-why-the-nordic-countries-are-constantly-among-the-happiest-in-the-world/) There are numerous theories as to why Nordic countries are some of the happiest, but the one I most incline to is simply this: the Swedes have enough and are wise enough not to seek more than they need. In the interest of the communal good, they are willing to devote time, energy and income to the benefit of all rather than themselves individually. Life is lived in moderation and, where no-one is left feeling poor or neglected or vulnerable, trust and communal bonds can be fostered and reflected in governance.

Flowers for everyone to enjoy
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

There is so much that we can learn from such an approach. Shifting from an ego-centric to a community-centric view, we can start a quiet revolution towards greater social equality. Finding more balance in our lives will bring happiness to ourselves and others. Making connections is something that almost always brings joy and if we feel the urge, we can smile about it!

Away Days

Sometimes, you just need to get away: from the demands of keeping a home and garden; from work commitments and away, I would argue, from our mundane selves. When we change our context, everything seems possible.

The thing I love most about a holiday is that it gives us time and permission to dream. We needn’t go far or for long, but we do need to enter into an unfamiliar landscape where our senses are challenged and stimulated.

Our few days in Battle did just that. The stunning landscape of the grounds of the hotel provided endless vistas to nourish our very souls; the delightful town offered both history and humour. Here’s a little taste of our days away.

A place to read, write and muse Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

The storm breaks

Interestingly, the high pressure building for days in the terrible heat broke the day before we left. It felt like a metaphor for our lives. All the stresses that had been building over the last few months felt washed away in the thundering rain.

We woke to a new world, bright and fresh and alive.

It was still hot, but bearably so. For once, an outdoor, unheated swimming pool in the UK was tempting and my husband and I took full advantage of it. We also lounged like normal people do on holiday (our family holidays invariable involve death defying activities or cultural investigations), so it was truly relaxing.

A welcome retreat on a very hot day
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

I read a novel, wrote my morning pages and finished The Artist’s Way (more on that next week). We ate fish and chips on the steps of Battle Abbey and I imagined all the history that had passed by this place.

With the exception of checking to see if we had a new prime minister, the news was banished. Our time was taken up instead in watching the world and languid conversations.

Life is more sociable with a dog

Hermione was, of course, a star. She introduced us to so many people that I couldn’t count them all. At one pub, where we were having dinner, I’m sure she was patted and fussed by every single person. In doing so, she opened us up to new encounters with lovely folk, who told their stories and we ours.

Perhaps we need a furry creature to break the barriers of shyness or polite behaviour. The English are normally so reserved, but bring a dog into the equation and they are positively voluble.

One lady, having given Hermione a good belly rub said enigmatically, ‘I needed that.’ Because sometimes, we just need to show affection and have the warmth of a positive response to make us feel human again. Who knows what was troubling her, but I’m glad that Hermione could give her a little respite.

Great companions! (Hermione and my husband) Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

A not too perfect life

Our hotel, the weather, everything was verging on perfection. One would expect this to be a good thing, but sadly it was not. Friendly dog patters aside, the hotel had its share of rather grumpy and miserable looking folks: couples who barely spoke to one another; people complaining of the ‘conference coffee’ served at breakfast; and even I fell into grumbling at the buzz of lawn mowers disturbing our peace. I was also feeling a bit frustrated by all my husband’s long walks with the dog and early morning swims in the pool. Why, I wailed inwardly, could I not join him? I hate this stupid disease.

Yes, I had a mini pity party. Then I looked down at my breakfast plate and saw the abundance of delicious food; looked up and saw the glorious grounds; looked across at my super husband and dog. Hmm. How quickly we fall prey to the idea that the world should serve us absolutely. How quickly, when life is almost perfect, does the slightest thing annoy.

It was time to recalibrate, because I realised that the reason the wealthy are often the most miserable is precisely because, like Tantalus, all they want is just beyond. But unlike Tantalus, it is not because they can’t reach food or drink, but rather that no sooner have they grasped it than they want something more, something better. As Westerners, we are all guilty of this to some degree.

Having acknowledged this truth and deciding to keep gratitude always at the centre of my thoughts, I went on a long walk around the lake that very evening. I managed to go much further than I thought possible and unusually did not suffer the exhaustion and burning in my legs that usually follows such exertions. Perhaps, having rested all day, I was better prepared, or perhaps, the universe was showing its approval.

History and humour

One can hardly go to Battle without thinking of history. The place is steeped in it: from the imposing Medieval Abbey to the half timbered Elizabethan dwellings to the elegant, symmetrical Georgian homes. This visit, I had vowed to explore the church opposite the Abbey and of almost equal antiquity. The Abbey had brought considerable wealth and prestige to the area and with it a burgeoning population. This church was where they could go to worship.

Founded 1115, it is classically Norman. It’s beautiful vaulted ceilings with dark beams and plain, pillared arches either side of the nave typify what we think of as an early Medieval church. But I suspect that the churchgoers of the Medieval period had a rather more lively prospect. High above on the left (facing the altar) are faded but once vivid frescoes. No doubt there were more, providing a sumptuous, visual feast for all those attending.

Ironically, the church now provides a respite from the onslaught of image and colour that we all face. The only real touches of colour are supplied by exquisitely executed kneelers with local and historic scenes.

St Mary’s, Battle
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
A far from Christian kneeler
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

And lastly, I am delighted to note that aside from its seriously impressive history, this small town has a wonderful sense of humour. Each season, the yarn bombers do their best to add a little colour and whimsey. This month, in line with the scarecrow festival, they have produced my favourite scarecrow- Ariyarna Grande.

On a lighter note
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Immersed for a few days in such exceptional surroundings made me focus on the thread of history and how it weaves through all our lives. This history was expressed through creativity: of magnificent architecture, painting, tapestry and yes, even yarn bombing. All took skill, all took mastery of an art form and all took patience. For the events of history are past, but the work of the artist as it responds and responds again to changing times, lives on.