How to Begin - Part One
Finding inspiration for ‘The Secret Life of Hedgerows’, an exhibition at the Inspired By Gallery, Danby. The Gallery, based in the North Yorks National Park, organised a wonderful Hedgerow study day for the artists, and put us together with ecologists and land managers as well as local farmers, for a walk and talk around a couple of farms in the National Park. We were able to ask lots of questions, look at some wonderful hedges and the environment around them as well as to chat with other artists. I really appreciated the mix of expertise, and went away with lots of information and ideas.
I thought about the way the hedgerows change through the seasons, about the mix of planting and the order in which things blossom – first the blackthorn, then the hawthorn, followed by the Guelder Rose and Dog Rose. I thought about time and moving through time, and the pattern of the seasons and the farming year. I had no idea how many species the hedgerows support. I gathered images; not just on the day but being lucky enough to live in a National Park myself, I wandered the hedgerows around me, watching and capturing the changes from Spring to summer. I read some interesting books about hedgerows, and came across some lovely threads on Twitter by a botanist who was listing lepidoptera who live in hawthorn hedges.
What I think then happens is the need to start stripping lots of ideas away. There’s so much to follow … so many strands of ideas. I have to abandon a lot of what I thought I would do, as there’s too much to incorporate in one piece. I often feel a bit overwhelmed and its often a point at which I have to step away a bit. The risk is that the possibilities can become paralysing; so I sometimes just start playing with structures and seeing what forms I might want to use. I had at the back of my mind wanting to make a sort of tunnel book. Just looking into the depths of a hedge made me think of layers of paper, and how I might create that sensation of overlapping branches and looking deep into something. I began with cutting layers, playing with the edges, seeing how it might work structurally. Should the pages have straight outer edges or could they look more loose and wild ? And if the latter then practically how would the joining concertinas work and could they be disguised? How well would the structure stand up and how could I avoid it warping? There’s no substitute for just sampling and trying things out even when it does take so many hours!
I also kept returning to the idea of the moths and butterflies and the way they explode upwards and outwards when you walk through a meadow or past a hedge. Sometimes it helps to park one idea and pursue another. So I started to make paper moths… and found myself enjoying a new and vivid colour palette.
