Illuminations

March 19, 2019

My exhibition with Sally Tyrie last year, Reflections & Revelations, marked the end of a two year project based at Wicken Fen. Sally and I were keen to work together again, but decided against another site-based project. The previous project revolved around a series of shared visits to the Fen while we developed the work separately, in our own studios. This time we have shifted the focus to our studio process. I have worked in Sally’s studio, trialling some of her processes, and she has worked in mine. We have made research visits to places together, but have also visited the same, or other places, individually. There are very few ground rules and the project is evolving as we work. We did not determine a theme at the start so it has been interesting to see how some common ground and areas of enquiry are nonetheless emerging from our investigations

Illuminations is not the final exhibition in this project. It represents a stage in our evolving collaboration. It is as much an opportunity for us to test out ideas for ourselves as to show finished work. Given the nature of this approach, it’s fitting that the venue for the exhibition is the gallery / project space area of Digswell Arts’ artist studios.

We will be showing photography and mixed media and plan that it will be as much an installation as an exhibition. We will be working part of the time in the space and adding to the work as we go.

Sally has written a couple of blogposts about some of our studio work on her blog here and here. Our plan is to work towards a series of exhibitions in 2019, for which we will publish details nearer the time.

Wicken Fen: fifth visit

February 25, 2017

Sally and I squeezed in another visit to the Fen last weekend. A shorter visit than our previous ones but we are keen to make the most of what remains of the winter. The weather was duller than had been forecast but at least it was mild.

The Workshop attached to the Fenman’s Cottage was open and so we went in to explore. The 18th century cottage was inhabited until the 1970s when the National Trust acquired it as a rare survival of a vernacular Fenland building. The workshop was filled with tools and examples of Fenland crafts. Tucked amongst all these were a collection of animal skulls and, bizarrely, a stuffed mole poking its head out of an enamel mug.

It was hard to take good photographs in the low light without a tripod. Sally and I were drawn to the collection of old photographs pinned to one of the walls. The photos were faded, speckled and curled with age. We were interested in what this did to the images.

Constrained for time, we headed towards Baker’s Fen which was less busy than the main part of the reserve. This time I was concentrating on the colours of the fen. On this overcast February day, the overall impression was paleness. Bleached reeds, withered leaves, silver water. The reeds have a warm red undertone but everything else is a cold grey. A pile of freshly cut willow on the other hand was blue-green and rust. A short-eared owl glided over the reeds, stopping us in our tracks. Its feathers matched the fen.

I deliberately over-exposed some of my photographs. This exaggerated the paleness, removed detail and created more abstract images. The results remind me of the faded photographs in the fenman’s workshop.

Abstract Fen-Wicken Fen-Helen Terry February2017

Abstract branches-Wicken Fen-Helen Terry-February2017

Reflections Wicken Fen January2017 Helen Terry

Wicken Fen: fourth visit

January 8, 2017

I left home early in an attempt to reach the Fen by dawn. Winter mornings, especially if there is mist or frost, can be lovely. But this was a grey, drizzly January morning, so it probably didn’t matter that I arrived later than hoped.

In summer the fen felt closed-in, opaque and overwhelmingly green. You couldn’t see past the lush vegetation. Now, it feels as though the landscape has expanded and opened out. I can see through bare twigs, reeds and trees. Areas of open water that had been totally obscured by the reed beds, reflect light even on a grey morning. The colours are winter greys accented by acid green or yellow (lichen, moss), pale blue (water, sky) and warm golds or ochres, where the sun catches the leaves.

This time Sally and I explored the southern part of the reserve to the edge of Burwell Fen. Winter crops were pushing through adjacent fields – undulating, dotted lines of emerald green against indigo-black soil.

Fields Wicken Fen January2017 Helen Terry

In places, vine-like plants have twisted and wound themselves together to create dense, matted coverings over fences at the edge of the paths. A little surreal. I particularly liked the contrast with the reeds behind.

Matted plants Wicken Fen January2017 Helen Terry

We remain interested in the hides and found two new ones to explore. Once again I was interested in the way reflections in the windows disrupt or overlay the view. Taking photographs through rain-spattered glass resulted in some impressionistic images too.

But the main thing that excited me on this visit were the reflections in the water. These varied according to the light, the water quality and any disruption in the surface. My favourite was one ditch where some disturbance had turned the water a milky blue-green, the perfect background for the shadows and reflections cast by the willows and linear marks of the reeds growing out of the water and fallen branches.

In the afternoon the sun emerged and turned the surface of Wicken Lode silver. Trees and reeds on the opposite bank were reflected up side down while reeds in the foreground cut across these images. Monochromatic, linear images. Positive and negative space.

Reflections Wicken Fen Helen Terry January2017-1.jpg

Reflections Wicken Fen Helen Terry January2017-1-7.jpg

Reflections Wicken Fen Helen Terry January2017-1-6.jpg

Reflections Wicken Fen Helen Terry January2017-1-8.jpg

There is something about these images cast on the surface of the water but not being part of the water. The reflection can be so distinct but is essentially unreal, insubstantial, ephemeral. They are an indirect way of looking at the original. And a reversal or distortion of what's there. Some are so clear that my photograph could be taken for the original. But I like those where there is just enough disruption to make you question what you see.

Mirrored view: Wicken Fen project August 2016 Helen Terry

Wicken Fen: third visit

September 4, 2016

Sally and I made another visit to Wicken Fen earlier this week on what turned out to be an uncomfortably hot day. There is little natural shade, there was virtually no breeze and, although the hides provided some shelter, as well as being hot they were also stuffy! Not the most comfortable conditions for our third research visit, but we did our best and stayed until evening, drawing and taking photographs. By 7pm the light was glorious and golden … and the heat was finally relenting.

Wicken Fen at early evening. August 2016. Helen Terry

The Fen is still overwhelmingly green. The reeds and sedge have grown up above our heads in places so you cannot see over but are left to peer through. The leaves on the willow, alder, birch and hawthorn look dull and tired. To me, all this foliage is a barrier – it conceals the underlying structure and I find it rather uninteresting. I am impatient to see the leaves off the trees and all the greys and browns of late autumn and winter. But greenness is so characteristic of this place that I may need to make peace with it and see what I can do.

Wicken Fen hide. August 2016. Helen Terry

I don’t think I wrote about our second visit, but every time we’ve been so far, Sally and I seem to be drawn to the hides. We have been photographing through the holes in the walls and the slit windows. One hide has opaque plastic windows and partly conceals the view in a way that interests us. Other visitors were clearly bemused to find us kneeling on the floor pointing a camera at a hole in the wall or drawing what we could see through a closed window!

Opaque windows. Wicken Fen. August 2016. Helen Terry

I am interested in how the hides cause you to see the Fen in sections or fragments. Pursuing this idea I took a small mirror with me this time, propped it against the window and started photographing the reflection. What really interested me though was the juxtaposition of the reflection and the view through the window – and in some cases a secondary reflection in the window too. The result is a combination of landscape fragments that is definitely something to explore further.

Mirrored landscape. Wicken Fen. August 2016. Helen Terry

Mirrored tree. Wicken Fen. August 2016. Helen Terry

From Clarke's Hide Wicken Fen June 2016 Helen Terry.jpg

Wicken Fen: a new project

June 19, 2016

I am very excited to be starting a new collaborative project with artist Sally Tyrie and on Friday we made an initial research visit to Wicken Fen. This is one of the National Trust’s oldest reserves (acquired in 1899) and one of the last remaining un-drained areas of the East Anglian fens. It is an exceptionally rich wetland habitat.

At this time of year, the dominant impression is greenness. The fen is a mass of tall sedges, grasses and reeds in brilliant emeralds and yellow greens, threaded through with traces of red and rust orange. Flashes of yellow, magenta, blue violet from the many marsh flowers – including orchids. It was gorgeous … but I am really looking forward to seeing the Fen in the winter when the green is bleached out and the underlying structures are exposed.

I’ve visited Wicken before but it was a long time ago and therefore it was like discovering the place afresh. There is that initial phase of orienting yourself within a place – finding your way around, noticing what you notice, what you choose to focus on. As ever, I was consistently drawn to details – marks and traces – reflections, linear marks, particularly of the reeds and sedges at the water’s edge.

But it’s interesting to experience a place with someone else – two pairs of eyes. Sally noticed things that I might have passed over – expanding my awareness, widening the range of things I noticed.

We were drawn to the hides – both the structures themselves and the experience of looking out of them. As well as the viewing hatches, many of them had random holes in the walls (Birds? Knot holes?). So there were lots of ways of looking out, looking through, peepholes, slits, cracks.

Worn and weathered plastic windows veiled and obscured the view – they simplified what you could see into shadowy outlines, veiling and obscuring as much as they revealed. –partial information, selective. My attention moved between the marks on the surface of the window itself and what you could see through it.

Marks on the surface and shadowy landscape beyond

(By the way my new “dream studio” is a wooden shed on stilts, with hatch windows and a good view … although maybe not for wet work.)

No preconceived ideas about what work might result but lots to think about. There will be more visits, visual research, drawing and thinking with a view to developing work for an exhibition sometime next year. So expect to be hearing more about the fens over coming months.

Visit Sally’s web site to see her work and follow her side of this collaboration.