Photo Credit: Jennie Anne Benigas
 

 

JUDY'S JOURNAL

September 2019

At one point, I stopped because I felt deeply happy and wanted to savor the moment. You know how it is - happiness makes up in height what it lacks in length – (Robert Frost said that, I think).

 

 

 


Experimenting with Art Tissue

Creating collages is the epitome of playfulness for me. Cut, torn, crumpled and layered, collages are paper-on-paper invitations to experiment with juxtapositions. I can drive patterns and shapes over the surface in a game of bumper-cars. I can mimic an orchestra’s conductor by laying down harmonious or dissonant colors and textures. It’s all fun. When I dip into globs of gel medium, the gluing-down process captures these decisions.

After several years of working primarily with black ink on clay board, I asked myself, “What’s next?” It seemed simple: I needed to return to color. Acrylic? Oil? Pastel? All of the above? On what support – canvas, paper or board? I took a blank 36” by 24” canvas and made an acrylic painting. It felt good to see my table with one hundred tubes of paint spread out in color groups.

After living with the painting for a week, I knew it needed something more. What hadn’t I worked with in ages? Luck was with me: on the top shelf of my stacking trays, there lay an old packet of art tissue. Why not? I took my palette knife and slathered gel medium over the painting. I was elbow-deep in luscious colors, tearing and placing sheets or strips. I tore at the tissue, wet with medium, and exposed sections of the underpainting. At one point, I stopped because I felt deeply happy and wanted to savor the moment. You know how it is - happiness makes up in height what it lacks in length – (Robert Frost said that, I think).


“Experiment #1"


After another interlude, I decided that the colors were too dark and heavy. I chose them because the intensity matched my level of happiness over returning to color. I experimented more with layering colors onto smaller pieces of watercolor paper. Light over dark or dark over light, the effects were pleasing. I ordered two sets of art tissue, bleeding and non-bleeding, just to see how that would be. When they arrived, I opened the box and reached inside. Suddenly, I was holding two rainbows in my arms.

Now that I had learned something about the material, it was time to begin again. I found a 12” by 12” oil stick and oil pastel painting on board that was in storage. It was time to say farewell to it in its present incarnation.

Thinking about the delicateness of art tissue, I went to Worcester’s oldest art supply store, C.C. Lowell, and bought Krylon UV gloss varnish to help protect the colors. Some pieces will be framed behind glass, but I will be attaching labels warning not to hang any of these pieces in direct light. In other words, display it like a watercolor or any artwork!


“Underwater”