Michael Woods
Despite travelling the world, Michael Woods’ inspiration for Doric Beginnings came from much closer to home; his own back garden.
In this example (one of a series of over 30), familiar shapes are deconstructed and made unfamiliar by intense magnification and black and white pencil marks. Using a spotlight, the foliage structure of intertwining stems are distorted and explored to enhance a sense of intriguing subjectivity.
Artist's statement
I have always been interested in a wide range of artistic subjects and methods. When I was at the Slade School of Art, there was an emphasis on the figure and this gave me a strong response to structure. But tone plays an important part in describing anything, so much of my work starts with drawing, followed by developments of colour and composition. Wherever I find myself – London, China, New York or Italy – I react to what I see and make my methods and materials respond to the subject.
Various plants grow along and over my garden wall. A moment came when the whole area needed a major prune. Because of the tangle, I had to carefully select which stems went where. I quite suddenly realised that clematis and honeysuckle had wound themselves together and made quite wonderful knots and shapes worth drawing. Some were only the size of a thumb nail, so I decided to make my study much larger and selected A2 paper.
Using half tone grey paper, I drew with black and white pencils. I placed the selected piece at a good eye height and controlled the lighting with a spotlight, which, when moved, had a strong effect on the description of the structure.
I have always tended to work with the aim of producing a whole series in any subject. In this case, I learnt which shapes and structures worked best. I then went looking for possible clusters and filled a waiting box. As I drew more samples I began to find other forms were suggested, such as human faces, animal and insect forms.
In all, I made over thirty drawings in the series. I think that with this sort of drawing the start has to be a slow, careful consideration of the whole subject. In the first hours I made a lot of very small, faint marks, related to certain questions. Where is the highest point? Where is the lowest? Is there a useful middle point where one element crosses another? If lines are at an angle, what is that angle? How thick are the elements, and if one travels behind the other, where does it reappear?
I try to get to know the object before the real marks of the drawing have even begun. I do not think that a drawing of this type can be made by making one piece, completing it, and then adding another piece; hoping that they all fit together and agree with one another. So, when the drawing begins to form its character, I stand back from it. It is only then that I begin to see which elements need strengthening. In some ways the subject has been replaced by the drawing and the drawing then has to make its own statement. In this example, the result reminded me of the fluting on Doric columns.
