Definitely not your standard residency

I panicked and packed 4 pairs of shoes.  This isn’t a fashion statement, more an attempt to cover all bases as I plan to stay in Hestercombe for my longest stint.  It is Somerset Arts’ weeks, which means I am here from the 18th of September to the 5th of October. (www.somersetartworks.org.uk/artweeks14).

First job was to rearrange the studio.  The logistics of making work in a new space without all my tools has caused complications in the past.  So this time I have tried to bring enough materials and equipment to cope with any outcome.

Hestercombe is still beautiful and although it’s the first day of Autumn, apart from the lack of evening light, there are little signs of a season shift.  After my last stay I can no longer face stripping wire and first take to experimenting with Oak Iron Ink. An old friend and excellent painter, Anna Illsely (http://www.annailsley.co.uk), suggested that it could be an interesting material to work with on some of my herbarium drawings (www.jolathwood.co.uk/artwork/university-of-kolophon).  The ink has a fascinating past and is a good tool to traverse traditional craft with contemporary practice, for me and for the audience that come and visit Hestercombe.  Dating back as far as the 5th century AD Oak Iron Ink has been used throughout Europe for various different tasks, including writing bank notes back when paper money was simply an IOU.  The ingredients for the ink vary, as do the recipes, not to mention the 30-odd different species of oak gall!  My first batch was a moderate success.  I think I could make a better darker ink but it was good for a first try.  As is the nature of artists, I became far more interested in the ink going wrong.  After adding a thickening agent I discover an effect that causes the ink to separate into tiny veins across the page.  The history, biology and chemistry of ink has lead me to want to share my findings.  I hope to run some workshops at Hestercombe over the next couple months and maybe even produce a small art book explaining this amazing parasite.

I have literally spent the last 3 days continuously stripping copper wire – a job that is hard to romanticise and makes me feel like I might be some scrap metal merchant hell-bent on labour intensive tasks.  Luckily, to easy the monotony, an old friend and fellow artist Alice Cunningham (http://www.alicecunningham.co.uk) has come to visit.  Cunningham’s practice has similar aspects to mine and we have known each other since University days.  She has an exhibition in London, which she needs to make work for, and currently being between studios and houses it makes sense for her to accompany me in Hestercombe’s mansion.  She is making a piece for a show that is based at a paper manufacturer and she needs to make vast qualities of papier mache. We giggle to ourselves as we quickly realise how we have changed the studio to look more like a recycling centre than any kind of arts’ space.

Surrounded by plastic cabling, satisfying bundles of copper and shredded paper, I reminisce of the first residency that I part took in, in Valenciennes, France.  At L’H du Siege I realised that I am so motivated by process – how things are made, what their elements are, and how they evolve. It always draws me in to learn niche facts.

Many visitors poke their heads around the door with surprised and curious expressions.  I explain who I am and what I am doing and by the end of my day I wish I had a tape recorder that spiels out the important information.   I don’t want to sound negative about talking to people but doing repetitive tasks and repeating yourself daily leads to a very tired artist!  Needless to say, on Saturday evening, Alice and I decided to check out the local pub.  After a recommendation from a local, I found myself eating a crocodile burger, something that I really didn’t expect to be doing in rural Somerset.