Art for the hands; Art to Touch and See

Textural underpainting for future tactile art - art to touch and see

I've been thinking quite a bit about a world that blurs, colors and shapes merging-- a world where vision is no longer a given. This prompt is spurred on by my own eyes that no longer work in the way I am used to, as details fade, and I rub my eyes hoping edges return. The mornings have become pronounced by longer and longer periods of blurred vision. And I am reminded up a childhood recurring dream which played out over and over again when I was maybe 9 or 10 yrs old, right before my parents and teachers figured out I needed glasses. In the dream, I would be going about my day on the playground with other children at recess, only to suddenly experience the world slipping into flat field of grey. And each time, as this terror played out, I would lose all trust in gravity, as well as track of the position my body and sureness of feet. As I was no longer able to orient visually to the horizon line, I started to question the prudence of standing. And would stretch out my hands and lean over to crawl to feel the assurance of the ground below.

The past several months of morning's muddled sight has brought that dream back into remembrance, and I can't quite shake the feeling that waiting to make art assumes that one will be of good health and sight in the future. The best time to make art is now, with the time one has, and the resources one has now. Neither are a given in the future. But what would it mean to be an artist who lost her vision? How would the orientation to the work, the making change? Are there ways to make art now, that may be more inclusive that could share beauty and awe with those who see as well as those who may have limits to their vision? Are there modalities to build upon now that could be used in the future by an artist who loses their sight?

Early studies of Gesso on Mylar, and using a toothpick to remove the wet gesso or add wet gesso as a mark. The zones in the forest pattern could be made up of swirls, and lines, and zigs.

This question seems kindred with other explorations taken place this year circling towards notions of inclusivity in art: "How to bring people from the periphery into an experience of creating and cultivating art? " Recent explorations have made me aware of the tactile potential of various materials. Working in small tiles the size of a hand, and holding the work, brings a connection to the work, I wouldn't have found if I was always at the same distance from the canvas paint brush separated, the play of the bristles against the canvas like a drum.

And as the work evolves in my studio, I unroll a second forest pattern, finding myself exploring textures and materials that could be felt by hand. For my future self, and others who may no longer see well, who still have a strong tactile sense and can delight in the shapes and forms of the forest under hand. This pattern like the first is comprised of three separate zones. A question I have is can the zones be differentiated from each other in the type of mark that is contained within that area?

Secondary studies- using a toothpick to mesh and press partially dried paint into gesso blocks

I've tried additive processes like adding ribs and ribbons of paint, gesso, clear gesso, and subtractive processes like scraping away the above mentioned materials from a blocked out area. I've tried modeling paste, and mixing in sawdust, evergreen needles. I've tried testing out clear gesso and regular gesso on a grid of dots, for the colors to be applied over. Modeling paste came out a bit more tacky and thick, but dried sharp and harsh. I tried sanding it down to see if that helped, but it still was not a pleasant feeling on the fingers. And all in all, I keep returning to gesso. It feels so good on the hands, especially in its additive form, rather than its subtractive form.

Tertiary study mixed materials into gesso- sawdust, chamaecyparis needles, and arborvitae needles in gesso and varnish

The application of Gesso on a surface though is tricky to build up with a relief. Gesso is somewhat more liquid than modeling paste, and tends to flatten out on the support. I've tried paintbrushes, toothpicks and other implements in the studio. But I am finding what works best for the gesso is a homemade syringe with a toothpick nub, allowing me to direct the bead of gesso across the mylar, rather than allowing it to plop out in big drops.

Studies in Braille, Gesso, clear Gesso, Modeling paste, Modeling paste sanded smooth, modeling paste painted over with Gesso, pencil, marker, paint.

I even researched braille standards for dot spacing and letters, and tried seeing what would happen if the braille dots carried the same color as the background color. But in the end, I became fascinated by the textured relief of both modeling paste and gesso when applied thick and redirected to make edges that are forms in themselves. That craft syringe from Michaels was a game changer; it allows for a thicker bead and line than just a toothpick on its own. Yet its opening didn't work so well for this application- it let too much gesso out at once. So I retrofitted it, by cutting a toothpick and placing it within the opening of the syringe. This creates a gesso "scribe" to direct the gesso as it flows out of the syringe (kinda like caulking edges of a bathtub- the opening size determines the rate of flow and width of material). The toothpick sometimes disappeared into the syringe but it still helped reduce the flow, regardless of orientation, it still slowed the flow of gesso and avoided giant blobs on the work. I found if I held the syringe at a 45 degree angle to the work, I had better control of the placement and flow rate of the gesso.

Gesso and makeshift gesso applicator

After sampling a lot of options- I am proceeding with the technique below. The deflection of the gesso lines are varied based upon their bordering pattern. Some have straight lines, while others deflect in dendritic swoops. I'll carry that through the whole piece before tackling the adding of tones to the forest pattern. Super excited to see this one through! The only downside of this technique is that I am going through an entire jar of gesso quickly, hoping it lasts me to the end of this piece. Not sure if gesso ages or takes on other properties if I have to source another brand or a new jar to finish the piece. I did encounter one hiccup between sessions where I had forgotten that there was already a toothpick inside the syringe and I added a second- together they blocked all flow and wouldn't come free. I am soaking the syringe in water and will need pliers to pull them out. Since I have a septic system, I can't rinse brushes or syringes in the sink and will need to take these outside with a hose to clean them out.

Gesso sculptural relief applied to mylar with craft syringe + toothpick nib and scraping by toothpick.