Reblogged from Newfoundland Folkways
My hometown. 54 years ago. My Dad would be thirteen then. I can pick out a few landmarks in the background. They’re not that far out really. The colours, of the photos, -a greyness to it all - that’s how I remember Carbonear in my mind, these same desaturated hues. These men catching squid, knowledge that I have only ever seen in passing and will never know how.
A striking set of photos documenting a group of men jigging for squid off the shores of Carbonear, Conception Bay, in 1960.
Photography by Chris Lund (1923-1983), a celebrated still photographer whose work was preserved in the National Film Board’s Still Photography Division - a vast collection of Canadian photography now shared by Library and Archives Canada and the Canadian Museum of Contemporary Photography.
Marena’s Ghost, 1997,
Etching. 18” x 24”
Dying for Romance, Dying for Love, 1996,
Etching. 18” x 24”
Pablo’s Torment, 1996,
Etching. 18” x 24”.
Kent Jones (1949 -) is a Professor of Visual Arts at Sir Wilfred Grenfell Campus, Memorial University, Newfoundland. MFA from The Slade School of Fine Art, London, England.
It’s hard for me to know what to write about this man. Full disclosure, he taught me intaglio in my undergrad. I remember the first few classes with him, getting in to conversations about rattlesnake cults and what not, and just getting on “like a house on fire.” He would regale us with stories of printmaking with Hockney or starting a printshop in New Guinea. A rancouter.
He taught me a lot about printmaking through the years as a student and working beside him as a tech, taught me even more about life, how the world works, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Church’s shoes and everything else. Always encouraging me. Heck, encouraging me to be bolder, go somewhere to get saucier.
Going to try and post some more of his etchings as his use of line and texture is wonderful for the medium.
Reblogged from Porn for Printmakers
Olde tyme poison
I recently put a call to all members of the university where I work, asking if anyone had any “duplicating fluid”, suitable for use in my 40 year old Ditto machine.
I got 2 hits… one from a colleague in Biology who used the (now empty) tin for holding fuel for his remote-control helicopter collection, and the other, notably, from an older fellow who runs the small offset press in the Printing Services division on campus. Lloyd is set to retire in 2 months, after 41 years here. He told me that about 25 years ago the university told him to “get rid of that poison”, as the Ditto machine had gone out of the fashion. Being an industrious printer, and a man after my own heart, he took the nearly-full tin home. “What did you plan to do with it?” I asked him. He wasn’t really sure, and incidentally, he now had the same question for me.
I told him, “I’m gonna use it in my Ditto machine”. “Well”, he said, “I’m glad I kept it, then”.
Reblogged from PDP @artBMA
I do love a nice etching of the sea
Wyllie was a prolific artist and sailor, making a career of maritime scenes. The difference in the mark-making between the water and clouds is always something to take note of, the splash of surf on the first ship is a nice touch.
William Lionel Wyllie (English, 1851‑1931)
How the Fleet Comes to its Moorings, c. 1920
The Baltimore Museum of Art: Gift of Eunice K. Lipkowitz, Washington, D.C.,BMA 1993.8