Heidi Katajamäki- Praising the Experimental

Last week's Art Play session began with a photograph of Finnish artist Heidi Katajamäki with her installation. Heidi's work is a bold example that the 'process' can be the 'product'. Her work is a statement piece, praising the experimental.

I asked the children, 'What do you think about art like this?' 

'Fun', 'messy', 'crazy', they said. 'I want to go there!' said another.

We discussed how the artist has broken some of art's usual 'boundaries', that the art-work doesn't have to 'look like something' or be 'photo-real' to be 'good' or 'worthy'. We noticed that the edge of the paper doesn't necessarily have to be the edge of the painting and that the painting can even drip down onto the floor, all in a bundle.

To create our own 'experimental' work, we started off with a warm-up inspired by 'The Anatomy of a Pencil' at Access Art. Wallpaper lining paper was spread out across the floor in two long rows which would form the landscape on which we were 'taking our pencils on a journey'. The children were told to hold the pencil with two fingers by its very tip and make marks such as 'flick, stroke, flutter, tap, drip, drop'. 

Then the pencils were gripped by the fist- 'skid, bore, drill, stir, dig, scrape, mix, drag'. At this point, a few of the pencils were broken. It didn't matter, I had plenty more.

The children were then instructed to drop their pencils, then gently pick them up in a horizontal position. 'relax, gentle, zig-zag, flow, around, melt, curl'

Next the pencils were held as if they were extensions to their own finger. 'dig, poke, bore, relax, line, circles'

As the children got more involved with the activity, their creativity flourished- some children started to work standing up, running the whole length of the paper. One child held several pencils in both hands and skidded across the paper making lovely strong marks. Another jabbed at the paper, making many tiny holes. The paper became smudged, ripped and crumpled. It came alive!

When all the pencils were broken, the children, buzzing with enthusiasm, moved on to the giant white sheet that covered the rest of the hall, on which provocatively lay the 'loose parts' of the day- paper, pastels, brushes, sticks, pine-cones, leaves, water and paint. Like in Katajamaki's installation, the children's work didn't end where the paper did. Paints were mixed, splattered and poured. Different tools made different marks. 'My work is so.... DRAMATIC!' someone cried out. 'At first my work was neat, but then I went CRAZY!' said another. Once child experimented by repeatedly wringing out a wet sponge onto his painting, and then tipping out the whole jar.

You could virtually hear their thought processes. First, there were the 'am I really allowed to do this?' looks, to which I just nodded encouragingly. Then like scientists they experimented, discovered and wondered. The more they realised their sense of freedom, the more they excelled into that elusive creative 'flow' where all the magic occurs.

Heidi Katajamaki

Marks from the warm-up

Marks from the warm-up

My work is so...DRAMATIC!

At first my work was neat, and then I went crazy!

The paper is not the edge of the painting

What will happen if I tip the all the water on?

The children were getting really involved with their work

Charcoal Hands and Smiling Faces

I promised to write about the other things we got up to last term at Art Play, so here goes.

For my first session, I planned to take the children outside to do some 'plein air' sketching. I wanted to do something completely different to what they were used to, find a new comfort zone. I bought packs of dark, black compressed charcoal that  I thought were quite open-ended and had plenty of opportunity for different mark-making techniques.

Unfortunately, it was heavily raining on the day, so we had to make do with looking out of large patio doors, which took away some of the effect. Drawing inside is nothing like drawing outside. There are no birds to hear, no whispering trees, no cold earth to feel (or smudge into your work). We carried on regardless- I told the children to do eight or so quick sketches, concentrating on the marks in the landscape, the lines and patterns that caught their interest; not to worry about accuracy or doing a 'perfect' copy.

We used watercolour pencils to add hints of colour and then chopped the work up, looking for interesting compositions, and stuck it down in make-shift sketch books. The children enjoyed experimenting with an unfamiliar media, and they liked having their own 'sketch-books'; I think it made them proud. 

However, I completely underestimated the mess- we had black-charcoal hands, arms, faces, clothes, tables and chairs. I quickly went out to buy suitable table coverings for next time, and made a mental note about something to do with aprons. I suppose at least they looked like they'd had fun, I always think that if you go home with paint on your clothes, then you must have had a good day, because you've been doing art.