Kate Hughes


untitled
February 23, 2010, 5:36 pm
Filed under: 2010, made in, painting, photography | Tags: , ,

My painting is finished, the frictionless medium allowing soft blurs of dust and light, obscuring depth and detail. I was feeling rather satisfied with myself till I visited the Mornington Peninsula Regional Gallery and was dumbstruck by the beauty of a Penleigh Boyd coastline and the boldness of Rick Amor’s solid black sky. I must remind myself that considering the infrequency of my efforts in this medium I’m doing alright.

This year seems to be the year where I force people to look at my work or at least give it a glance. I have a modest solo show on in the even more modest HTC Artspace, my book of horizons has been accepted into the Williamstown Festival Contemporary Art Prize and it looks like I will have work on display in Melbourne University’s Baillieu Library sometime in the next few months.

This morning was spent following the creeping of developers along the Patterson River’s banks.

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fluid
February 21, 2010, 1:53 pm
Filed under: painting, surrounds | Tags: , ,

Some may be happy to see that I’m attempting to paint again. The speed with which tones emerge astounds me but for me everything is always slow work. The photos were taken with my new camera though they are not particularly exiting demonstrations of its capabilities.



on occasion
August 10, 2009, 6:46 pm
Filed under: 2008, made in, painting | Tags: , , ,

byron

clifton-hill

On occasion I paint, some things come easily with oil paints, blurred edges and smudgy blacks, some things are more difficult. It’s not a medium I preference anymore, it seems to lack the directness of grey leads and fails to engage me. Painting does make the fact that the works are in greyscale more evident, a choice rather than a default.



glass full of sky
August 9, 2009, 12:34 am
Filed under: 2008, made in, painting, reading | Tags: , ,

glass-full-of-sky

If you rise at dawn in a clear sky, and during the month of March, they say you can catch a bag of air so intoxicated with the essence of spring that when it is distilled and prepared, it will produce an oil of gold, remedy enough to heal all ailments. And as you rise at dawn to the upper ether, and lean out to catch the bag of air, they say you are trapping the ascending dew on its voyage from Earth to Heaven.

Dean, T 2006, ‘Bag of Air 1995’ in Tacita Dean, Phaidon, London