Ode to the Desert Oak

I'm in love with a tree.

Its the Desert Oak, from Central Australia.  Its latin name is Allocasuarina decaisneana and its a slow growing tree with the typical branchlets of the casuarina family.

Young trees have a narrow trunk and form, looking somewhat like old-fashioned feather dusters.  They mature to an adult form with spreading limbs and bushy foliage.

They tend to grow in multiples in the one area which creates a surreal looking landscape of the variously shaped trees in different growth stages.

During my recent trip to Curtin Springs Cattle Station, I decided to produce a work based on these trees.  When I visited in 2018, I did sketches of the trees, their branchlets and their cones.  This time I wanted to extend myself a bit more, and decided to use cyanotypes to record the trees.

Using my unit's bathroom, I created a darkroom to pre-coat my papers with the cyanotype solution, then exposed them the next day with various samples I had collected.   The sunlight was very strong, so I couldn't use my standard exposure times, but chose instead to work fairly organically and probably did overexpose the prints.  I love the serendipity of it anyway.

I've assembled the cyanotype prints into a concertina book, using a piece of my handmade paper I created from the station's grasses.  The cover features a sample of paper made from the Desert Oak.

We have casuarinas here on the coast, known as She-Oaks, but the Desert Oaks have really captured my imagination, so I've enjoyed creating this book to record my memories of them.

Recording Desert Oaks in my sketchbook in 2018.

Young Desert Oaks -
they look like feather dusters I think!

Mature Desert Oaks, surrounded by a few young ones.
I can still hear the wind whispering through the branchlets.

The front cover of my book, featuring
Desert Oak paper and cyanotype of the branchlets.

You can see the texture of the paper in this photo...yum!

Close up of some of the pages. I applied the cyanotype
solution roughly on purpose, leaving the white of the
paper showing through in places. 
To me, this evidence of brushstrokes replicates the breeze
was flowing through the oak's branchlets.

This photo shows the spine of handmade paper.
The earthy colour of paper sits well with the indigo of the cyanotypes.

Photo from the top downwards - you can see that I've glued
the cyanotype papers to the handmade paper spine.
A simple concertina construction that lets the cyanotypes and
handmade paper take centre stage.

Return to Curtin Springs

In 2018 I did a two week artist residency at Curtin Springs Cattle Station in Central Australia. 

Last week I returned to Curtin Springs as a tourist, along with 9 members of Papermakers & Artists Queensland (plus 5 husbands!).

We spent our week touring the property, making paper from grasses, sharing stories and laughter, and generally just being very creative.

I completed two artist books which I will tell you about in my next blog posts.

To find out more about Curtin Springs, here is the website  www.curtinsprings.com.

Mary and Wendy collecting grasses to make paper with.

Exploring a sand dune, looking for animal and bird tracks in the sand.

Gladys and Wendy couching their sheets of paper.
Both Gladys and Wendy work very texturally with their fibres.

Gladys adding dried plant fibre inclusions to her paper.

Helga and her husband Victor couching sheets.
The red coloured paper has red clay added to the vat.

Ngaire forming a sheet.

Bangtails - hair from cow tails - can be
added to the paper as an attractive inclusion.

My post - featuring a red clay paper.

The girls laminating their wet sheets to a smooth
surface to restrain dry.

Amee and Joanna cooking the grasses.

 

Amee giving basic instructions on how they work their paper mill.

Here I am doing a 'dance' on top of the post to manually
remove some of the water from the couched sheets.
Its usually done with a hydraulic press.

Here we all are, posing with our deckles in the paper studio.

Resonating with audiences

In previous blog posts over the past couple of months I have been posting photos and details of artworks for an artist book exhibition called 'Compassion' which was held during July and August.

One of the artworks 'Listening to Rain' sold during the exhibition.  I posted about the artwork here.

As it happened I was visiting the gallery when it sold, and it was lovely to speak to the purchasers.  I also received lots of positive feedback from many other people that passed through the gallery during the exhibition.  It seems that the concept behind the artwork and the quote from David Haskell's book 'The Song of Trees' really resonated with audiences.  I think everyone felt the connection of the author's words to the arrangement of the leaf monoprints.

And then I was approached to do a commission of 'Listening to Rain', as another viewer (on the same day) was interested in purchasing the work.  To repeat it or not.  I usually only like one-offs, which is why I love monoprinting.  I decided to take on the challenge to see if I could make another 'Listening to Rain', whilst retaining the essence and emotion of the original work.  I also had to remember how I put the first one together, a balancing act of hanging tape and waxed linen thread!

And after 5 weeks of work, 'Listening to Rain II' is complete.  It looks very similar to the original from a distance, but every detail is unique.  All of the leaves used for printing are different, the toned papers are different, and the repurposed wood used for the hanging is different. 

I hope that the new owners enjoy the work and are inspired like me by Haskell's words. And perhaps it might rain again one day as we are currently experiencing very dry and hot conditions (and its only early Spring!).

The printing of the leaves and feathers is the fun bit!

Laying out the  monoprints and getting
the spacing right - the tricky bit!

The completed work...SIGH.