From cocoon to kookaburra: Personal symbolism
"All art speaks in signs and symbols. No-one can explain how it happens that the artist can waken to life in us the existence that he has seen and lives through. No artistic speech is adequate expression of what it represents; it's vital force comes from what is unspoken in it." - Albert Schweitzer
It's the first week of school holidays and I'm relishing in the prospect of some proper art time for myself. It's fairly typical of me, after a busy term, to spend my first few days of holiday in the garden and cleaning the house. Now that I have re-established order once again, I am able to reflect on the past few months. I reflect on my teaching, my students and also my newfound art practice. In my last post, I mentioned that cocoons are a symbol that often appear in my work. I have noticed some others which got me thinking about the symbolism and meaning in my art so far, however limited it may be.
I enjoy discussing symbolism with my students because it brings out alternative interpretations of artworks. The viewer is encouraged to see beyond the obvious subject matter and think indirectly or abstractly. Symbols give another layer of meaning to an artwork and give clues about the time and culture in which an artwork was produced. Artists throughout history have used countless signs and symbols in their artwork to convey meaning and tell stories. It's helpful to understand that symbols can represent different things to different people, or different cultures, and symbols can evolve over time. The colour red, for example, has been used to symbolise passion, lust, fertility, blood, power, war or redemption, among other things. And oranges, although seen as a common fruit today, were once symbolic of wealth and high-status during the Northern Renaissance, as oranges were imported and therefore expensive. Hence, the context of symbols is important.
"It isn't up to the painter to define the symbols. The public who look at the picture must interpret the symbols as they understand them" - Pablo Picasso
For the most part I agree with Picasso here. Once the artwork is in the public eye, it is for them to interpret it their own way. I don't always want to know what an artist has to say about their work, sometimes I just want my own interpretation. But as an artist, I can't help but notice how my own art symbols are evolving over time to align with my (somewhat) unique experiences. I created this blog to share my thinking as I grow as an artist, so today I thought I'd share some of my personal symbols and a few sketchbook drawings with you.
Last year was all about cocoons. I drew so many of them! I had no other ideas or direction, so I just kept scribbling them down, one after the other. Cocoons are a metaphor for transformation. I had been through a major life change, so it was no surprise that cocoons were pouring out through my psyche. I was exhausted and needed some time and space to recoup. The cocoon is a symbol of my periods of rest, isolation, darkness and reflection. I've also come to see them as a symbol for the resistance of a blocked artist. But although the cocoon looks like a resting place, it is actually a miraculous cave of wonders in which the caterpillar reforms itself into something truly remarkable. Here are some of my cocoons from my sketch book:
It's the first week of school holidays and I'm relishing in the prospect of some proper art time for myself. It's fairly typical of me, after a busy term, to spend my first few days of holiday in the garden and cleaning the house. Now that I have re-established order once again, I am able to reflect on the past few months. I reflect on my teaching, my students and also my newfound art practice. In my last post, I mentioned that cocoons are a symbol that often appear in my work. I have noticed some others which got me thinking about the symbolism and meaning in my art so far, however limited it may be.
I enjoy discussing symbolism with my students because it brings out alternative interpretations of artworks. The viewer is encouraged to see beyond the obvious subject matter and think indirectly or abstractly. Symbols give another layer of meaning to an artwork and give clues about the time and culture in which an artwork was produced. Artists throughout history have used countless signs and symbols in their artwork to convey meaning and tell stories. It's helpful to understand that symbols can represent different things to different people, or different cultures, and symbols can evolve over time. The colour red, for example, has been used to symbolise passion, lust, fertility, blood, power, war or redemption, among other things. And oranges, although seen as a common fruit today, were once symbolic of wealth and high-status during the Northern Renaissance, as oranges were imported and therefore expensive. Hence, the context of symbols is important.
"It isn't up to the painter to define the symbols. The public who look at the picture must interpret the symbols as they understand them" - Pablo Picasso
For the most part I agree with Picasso here. Once the artwork is in the public eye, it is for them to interpret it their own way. I don't always want to know what an artist has to say about their work, sometimes I just want my own interpretation. But as an artist, I can't help but notice how my own art symbols are evolving over time to align with my (somewhat) unique experiences. I created this blog to share my thinking as I grow as an artist, so today I thought I'd share some of my personal symbols and a few sketchbook drawings with you.
Last year was all about cocoons. I drew so many of them! I had no other ideas or direction, so I just kept scribbling them down, one after the other. Cocoons are a metaphor for transformation. I had been through a major life change, so it was no surprise that cocoons were pouring out through my psyche. I was exhausted and needed some time and space to recoup. The cocoon is a symbol of my periods of rest, isolation, darkness and reflection. I've also come to see them as a symbol for the resistance of a blocked artist. But although the cocoon looks like a resting place, it is actually a miraculous cave of wonders in which the caterpillar reforms itself into something truly remarkable. Here are some of my cocoons from my sketch book:
It took me a while to realise that after a year of cocoons came some butterflies. They became my new go-to when I didn't know what else to draw. They came at a time that I felt lighter and freer in my own art practice, and certainly more colourful! I was enjoying colour pencils again, and I had a renewed sense of optimism, a bit of bounce back in my step. I couldn't quite tell what was different, but butterflies were showing up to say something had changed.
Then, in more recent months, I have had many kookaburras appear on the page. I see them every day as I drive to work and have always loved the gleeful cackle of their laughter. I don't recall drawing one until recently, though. So, all of a sudden, it's kookaburras! I don't argue with inspiration, I just do the drawings. In hindsight I see that kookaburras came to me at about the time I started this blog and committed to sharing my work on Instagram. Kookaburra is showing me to express my distinctive voice, and maybe to not be so serious about it.
As you can see, I've moved on from cocoons, although they still pop up from time to time. I would love to hear of your own personal symbols - if you had an animal that represented you at this time in your life, what animal would you choose?
Comment below!
Until next time,
Erin
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