Janet Tryner Fine Artist

Fine artist and live graphics designer.

Thursday, 15 August 2019

I'm delighted to report that I've been offered a fantastic opportunity for a graduate residency in Coventry at Eaton House with ArtSpace. As part of the residency, I will be blogging, and I will post those here along with my other bits and pieces.

I will also have a solo show next August. Since I feel rather intimidated by that term I shall be sticking to 'a space in which to show my work'. August 2020 seems a long time away from being in my mid-twenties which is when I first dared to put a drawing of my own on my own wall. It turns out I’m a slow starter. I've always rather regretted that, but suspect I might also have dodged a lot of crap that way.

So... what will I make / do / show / tell?
Well, it's too early to say, but there will be an acknowledgement of certain chaos, and how we collude to keep the real thing out the window, at bay - out there. What exactly is this 'real thing' though? OOO (Object Oriented Ontology) proposes that although we can never actually know the true reality of anything we can know it sensually - its effects, evidence and traces. And that's as close as we're ever going to get. Reality approached as such is like a fall, or a terminal beginning: knowing you'll never land because you'll always dodge the ground. This would not be something to topple into unwillingly but go relishing the opportunity. So, this is a huge opportunity, and before I dwell too long, I can say that currently, it feels something like when a building has gone and a gap remains and then the gap gets filled with ideas of what might be there next, along with this realisation that you can see through the gap now and this is rather nice and spacious, like being let in on a secret - looking through the ghost of the building that was once there, and you kind of like that as it is. In living lightly - you don't have to fill the gap.

Friday, 26 July 2019

Garden Lobster colour set

Common rough woodlouse in bright colours. I think I'm influenced by their Garden Lobsters nickname, so I'm going for cooked lobster pink. You'd certainly notice them in the garden more often if they were this colour. All this with view to making a large composition with a background. Prefer the left and right.

Out of all the ones I've done lately, and I've done a lot, I prefer the misaligned ones. They really mess with the eyes in an interesting way.

Saturday, 13 July 2019

Printing updates & Armadillidiidae

The dock weeds growing in the soil I 'liberated' from the housing estates are growing a crazy red dock spot pattern.

They are probably much weakened by being grown in pots and can't fight it off. But it does look pretty and I noticed it just in time to get it into the print. However, as you can see on this test print, the screen print stencil didn't work as hoped. I'm going to rework this as a lino-cut block print and use the opportunity to add more detail.
While I think about this another printing project has taken over my walls - so currently, they are covered with woodlice! Not real ones, and looking a bit like pineapples here.

Because I spent all that time making a lino-cut stamp to make the wild-clay ceramic woodlouse effigies for my degree my thought is that I may as well try them on paper, retrofitted with two more lino-cut block printed layers to add colour. No photos here but they look great in bright graduated colours. Next time I will plan the layers ahead as doing them later was really tricky, hence I don't have photos of the fancy coloured ones. 

No details now but I'm thinking about ways to make a bigger, part layered woodlouse block print.

Monday, 1 July 2019

A growing project: salvaged silver-houses soil

July 2019. I sit here considering what to do about the weeds and splurging into tissues the remainder of a cold that kept me down all weekend.

The weeds are growing in soil that I 'liberated' from ground destined to complete a shiny new residential estate. A poetic reminder of its last wild moment when it was beautiful. Enthusiastically stealing from the developers a wealth of confetti in white-flowered Shepard's Purse and Thistle.

So far I have grown mainly baby Dock Weeds and a very long and searching Field Speedwell. A flat, round and fluttery leaved buttercup that didn't like growing in a pot also upped and then died.

I want to make a print to celebrate them. So I'm drawing on tracing paper to overlap them and see what shapes there are.

3 July.
Slowly cutting out a complicated stensil. This will be the top layer in a strong opaque colour. But it has to be done first so I know where all the other shapes need to go.

I'm still clearing out and amalgamating all the studio things I had to bring back from college into my house. This quite a large task! Nevertheless, I've managed to squeeze a space for making and drying prints into my bedroom. It's nicer to work on the table downstairs with a view of the garden but at least I don't have to tidy stuff away so often.

I'm planning on using a range of printing techniques and I will end up with a range of prints on paper that probably have a few differences. Lino relief printing I'm used to, screen printing not so much. I haven't tried to combine them before, so we will have to see how it goes.

I have a some Permaset Premium ink on order and I'm interested to see how that works on plastic. It's water-based but will print on unpermeable surfaces so I'm hopeful it will be more successful than anything else I've tried recently.

Sunday, 16 June 2019

Sugared jelly calcite quartz

Looking like sugared jelly sweets. Calcite crystals on quartz. Lapworth Museum of Geology at Birmingham University.

A fan of bricks

Manorbier Castle and bricks found on the beach.

Treasure seeking

My hoard of pebbles is growing. Even though I limit myself to taking away as few as possible and then only the smallest samples of the best. Collection, collecting, connecting to place and taking away, memento, state of mind, rubbing, wearing away, rounding. Water and rock & rocks and rocks, getting smaller. Getting nearer.

King’s Quoit & Manorbier Beach, South Pembrokeshire.

At Tenby the stepped path to the beach was precipitous. I was scared. Stood low trying to ground myself clinging to the handrail, talked myself through it, didn’t look away from the path, stopped many times. Eventually, the beach was flat and sandy, speckled with pebbles and shells - razor, cockle, winged tellin, oyster and a few shiny, slate blue broken mussel shells  - and a boulder speckled with grass and inhabited by gulls and a fortress, girdled with more steps. We didn’t go up.