Rock Paper Charcoal By Sara-Jeanne Bourget   Rock  Paper  Charcoal   By  Sara-­‐Jeanne  Bourget   A  Thesis  support  paper  submitted  in  partial  fulfilment  of  the  requirements  for  the  degree  of   Master  of  Fine  Arts     Emily  Carr  University  of  Art  +  Design   MFA  2019     © Sara-Jeanne Bourget, 2019       ii   Table  of  contents       List  of  Images  ........................................................................................................................................  iii     Acknowledgments  ................................................................................................................................  iv     Introduction  ..............................................................................................................................................     Being  Here  ...................................................................................................................................  1   Context  ..........................................................................................................................................  2   Preface  ..........................................................................................................................................  3     Drawing  .....................................................................................................................................................  4     Material-­‐Making  Practice  ................................................................................................................  11     Geological  Time  and  Natural  Processes  ......................................................................................  19     Depictions  .............................................................................................................................................  24     Cyclical  Process  ...................................................................................................................................  27     Conclusion  .............................................................................................................................................  33     Reflexion  of  the  Thesis  Exhibition  ................................................................................................  35               iii   List  of  Figures     1   Making  charcoal  at  Levette  Lake  ..........................................................................................................  2     2   Cabin  in  Chilliwack  BC  ..............................................................................................................................  6     3   The  Mad  Gardener  Planted  a  Forest  of  Dust  .....................................................................................  7   4   The  Mad  Gardener  Planted  a  Forest  of  Dust  .....................................................................................  9   5   The  Mad  Gardener  Planted  a  Forest  of  Dust  (detail)  ...................................................................  10       6   Charcoal  sticks  in  my  studio  .................................................................................................................  12   7   Four  types  of  charcoal  ............................................................................................................................  12   8   A  display  of  handmade  charcoal  sticks  in  my  studio.    ...............................................................  15   9   Topography  of  the  many  infinitesimals  .............................................................................................  17   10   Dust  Standing  over  its  Eventual  Sediments  .....................................................................................  21     11   Collage  ............................................................................................................................................................  25   12   Odds  and  Ends  .............................................................................................................................................  25   13   Charcoal  monotype  ..................................................................................................................................  28   14   Charcoal  monotype  ..................................................................................................................................  29   15   Chiffonnage  ..................................................................................................................................................  32   16     17   View  of  the  thesis  exhibition  installation    Rock  Paper  Charcoal  ...........................................  35                 View  of  the  thesis  exhibition  installation    Rock  Paper  Charcoal  (right)  and  of  Robin     Gleason’s  thesis  exhibition  (left)  ........................................................................................................  36     iv     Acknowledgements    ...................................................................................................................................         To  all  the  people  I  met  here,  my  friends  and  peers,  thank  you  for  being  part  of  this   experience.       To  Fadwa  and  Robin,  I  am  eternally  grateful  for  your  inspiring  enthusiasm  and  your   company  in  our  unorganised  camping  trips.  Thank  you  for  helping  me  burn  wood.       To  Trish,  Ingrid  and  Randy,  women  I  admire,  thank  you  for  being  my  mentors  and   sharing  your  wisdom  with  me.       To  my  family,  my  siblings  Corinne,  Florence,  Camille,  Michael  and  my  dear  parents,   Sylvie  and  Jacques,  thank  you  for  your  infinite  support  and  trust.       To  Mark,  the  most  passionate  human,  thank  you  for  your  love  and  care.                       1     Being  here  .......................................................................................................................................................     Before   moving   to   British-­‐Columbia   to   pursue   my   studies   in   the   Masters   program   in   Fine   Arts   at   Emily   Carr   University,   I   devoted   my   artistic   practice   to   depicting   the   landscape.   It   is   only   through   the   east   to   west   move   that   I   was   faced   with   my   great   ignorance   of   land   politics,   of   the   various   entangled   histories   and   issues   relating   to   geographies   and   of   the   continual   colonial   romanticization   of   the   land   and   nature,   which   also   crept   into   the   words   I   was  using.  I  have  been  blindly  following  western  conventions  of  picturing  landscapes  which   engage  a  history  inherent  to  appropriations  of  the  land.  I  have  been  ignorant  of  the  political   ramifications   of   my   own   identity,   as   a   white   woman,   descendant   of   French   colonizers.   Today,  being  situated  on  these  lands,  I  must  acknowledge  my  status  as  an  uninvited  guest   on   the   unceded   traditional   territories   of   the   Coast   Salish   peoples,   specifically   the   Musqueam,   Squamish   and   Tseil   waututh   nations.   Yet,   repeating   this   statement   is   not   enough.  In  this  paper,  I  will  avoid  using  the  term  “landscape”  because  of  its  colonial  history.   I  choose  to  refer  to  what  would  be  understood  as  “landscapes”  as  “sites”.  The  word  seems   more   neutral,   yet   it   has   evocative   qualities.   Site   sounds   like   sight,   which   is   the   primary   sense   that   guide   my   explorations.   Moreover,   recognizing   the   environment   I   extract   from   by   opening  myself  to  learn  from  it  is  an  in-­‐sight/site-­‐ful  method  and  a  grounding  strategy.  In   this  document,  descriptions  may  appear  analytical—this  is  merely  to  counteract  a  too  easy   romanticization  of  my  artistic  practice.     Being   here   has   been   empowering;   it   has   made   me   aware   of   my   identity,   both   as   an   artist   and  as  a  French-­‐Canadian  woman.  I  am  thankful  to  be  continually  introduced  to  traditions   and   histories,   to   ways   of   knowing   and   craftsmanship,   to   people   and   communities   that   incessantly  shape  my  artistic  practice  and  everyday  life.       2   Context  ..............................................................................................................................................................     I   come   from   a   rural   town   in   the   province   of   Québec.   The   formerly   tiny   town   once   known   as   Pintendre  (now  as  Lévis)  is  the  site  where  I  grew  up,  alongside  my  four  siblings  in  a  house   still  owned  by  my  parents.  To  this  day,  behind  our  home  is  a  forest  that  survived  residential   expansion.  Most  of  my  childhood  was  spent  in  it,  mixing  a  suburban  life  with  the  wonders  of   nature.   This   tiny   forest   is   one   of   the   sites   where   I   began   learning   my   elementary   skills   in   terms  of  subsistence  outside  of  the  domestic  setups.  To  this  day,  I  find  pride  in  building  a   fire  to  provide  for  my  needs.  It  empowered  me  as  a  young  girl  and  left  me  with  a  proneness   to  spend  time  in  the  natural  world.                     (Fig.  1)  Making  Charcoal  at  Levette  lake     Using   the   creative   force   of   a   fire   quickly   became   of   interest   during   my   undergraduate   studies.  I  started  producing  material  from  found  elements  in  nature  when  I  was  camping  or   spending   time   outside.   I   naturally   started   researching   charcoal   and   exploring   its   material   possibilities.   This   simple   process   of   fabrication   has   become   a   foundational   aspect   of   my   practice.         3   Preface  ...............................................................................................................................................................     My   drawing   practice   raises   the   larger   theme   of   representation   in   image-­‐making.   I   understand   representation   as   a   spectrum,   its   form   fluctuating   between   infinite   blur   and   complete   clarity.   Representation   is   intrinsic   to   drawing,   and   vice   versa,   since   both   give   meaning   to   the   world   that   surrounds   us   through   pictorial   form.   This   interest   in   the   possibilities   of   drawing   to   make   meaning   through   and   with   representation   have   raised   important   questions   in   my   practice:   How   does   a   deeper   understanding   of   a   material,   charcoal  for  instance,  from  its  fabrication  to  its  use,  affect  the  production  of  representations   in  image  making?    And,  how  is  drawing  a  gateway  to  research,  conceding  that  an  iterative   process  in  image-­‐making  is  its  prime  method?     My  inquiry  begins  with  accepting  that  a  deep-­‐seated  awareness  of  materials  is  rooted  in  the   intimate  knowledge  of  their  provenance,  production  and  uses.  From  that  fact,  I  question  if   representation   in   image-­‐making   exists   depending   on   how   extensive   is   the   knowledge   of   materials   used   for   its   formation.   A   greater   material   sensitivity   alongside   a   deep   understanding   of   the   parts   that   compose   an   activity,   drawing   for   instance,   are   the   foundational  elements  needed  to  create  representations.  Exploring  the  potential  of  charcoal   as  material,  medium,  mark  and  subject  as  well  as  pushing  the  boundaries  of  drawing  as  a   reactive  method  are  the  basis  for  the  creation  of  representation.  It  is  important  to  note  that   the   word   “representation”   is   repetitively   use   throughout   this   text   to   speak   to   all   form   of   process-­‐based  creation  of  images.       4   The  dissection  of  my  material-­‐making  practice  (making  charcoal)  and  the  many  iterations   of  drawings  (activities)  that  unfolds  in  the  studio  describe  the  methods  that  are  allies  in  my   research  based  practice.  The  residual  trace  of  one  process  is  the  starting  point  of  another.   First   and   foremost,   drawing   is   the   thread   that   weaves   together   all   the   parts.   I   am   using   specific   terms   to   speak   about   it,   which   have   evolved   to   be   significant   to   me,   such   as   “representation”,   “depiction”   and   “image-­‐making”.   Representation   is   everywhere,   existing   as   a   result   of   image-­‐making.   It   may   take   shape   through   abstract   or   realistic   images.   However,  when  it  holds  realistic  qualities,  depiction  is  then  used  to  describe  the  image  or   process   of   image-­‐creation.   These   terms   will   be   defined   again   alongside   examples   of   my   work.  In  brief,  this  document  acts  as  a  witness  testimony  of  my  partnership  with  drawing   over  the  years,  with  specific  emphasis  on  my  recent  practice.       Drawing  ............................................................................................................................................................     The  central  activity  taking  place  in  my  studio  is  drawing.  My  walls  are  covered  with  large   sheets  of  paper  where  marks  are  made  with  the  intention  of  creating  images.  Philosopher   Jean-­‐Luc   Nancy   devoted   a   book,   The   Pleasure   in   Drawing,   to   unravel   the   felt   qualities   of   drawing.   “Due   to   its   nature,   no   doubt,   drawing   is   represented,   experienced,   and   experimented   with   a   compulsion,   like   the   effect   of   an   irresistible   impetus.”   (Nancy   15)   Opposed   to   a   formal   descriptive   investigation   of   the   discipline,   Nancy   explores   the   emotional   and   perhaps   visceral   content   of   drawing.   In   accordance   with   this   way   of   investigating  a  subject,  it  is  my  love  of  drawing  and  my  comfort  with  it  that  has  pushed  me   to  explore  its  manifold  possibilities.       5   Drawing   is   a   complex   activity   to   decipher   since   it   has   an   ambiguous   status.   It   is   historically   loaded,  universally  understood  as  the  first  gesture  to  convey  ideas.  Drawing  is  ubiquitous,   frequently   used   as   a   pedagogical   tool   leading   to   the   mastering   of   other   mediums   such   as   painting   or   sculpture.   Drawing   is   too   often   only   perceived   as   a  way   to   harmonize   the   eye   and  the  hand.  Yet,  as  artist-­‐writer  Derek  Horton  has  observed  in  his  introduction  to  Beside   the  Lines  of  Contemporary  Art  -­‐  Drawing  Ambiguity:   drawing   exists   at   an   interface:   the   interface   of   an   idea   and   its   representation;  of  the  hand  and  the  trace  of  its  action;  of  the  image  and   its   viewer.   This   interface   is   a   place   with   its   own   autonomy,   its   own   ability  to  generate  new  results  and  consequences,  essentially  an  area  in   which  choices  are  made,  not  a  simple  and  transparent  site,  but  a  fertile   nexus,  ripe  with  ambiguities.  (Horton  3)     Understanding  drawing  as  an  interface  means  welcoming  its  various  manifestations.  One  of   them   takes   form   through   a   material-­‐making   practice,   which   encompasses   the   handmade   fabrication   of   charcoal   in   the   natural   sites   I   visit1.   When   charcoal   is   brought   into   the   studio,   a  series  of  processes  is  initiated.  Depictions,  which  I  understand  as  pictorial  translations  of   a  photograph,  become  ways  to  re-­‐experience  a  site  through  the  performativity  of  drawing.  I   use  the  term  “depiction”  to  describe  the  attempt  to  represent  a  visually  accessible  physical   reality,   often   brought   in   the   studio   as   a   photograph   I   took   of   a   site   I   experienced.   The   directness   and   performativity   of   drawing,   which   for   me   is   also   an   act   of   depicting,   are   explored  through  my  physical  engagement  with  drawing  as  well  as  the  subjects  I  am  dealing   with.                                                                                                                           1  This  activity  will  be  described  in  the  section  “material-­‐making  practice”       6     (Fig.  2)  Cabin  in  Chilliwack  BC  –  Making  a  fire  –  Preparing  the  sticks  for  carbonization     7       (Fig.  3)  The  Mad  Gardener  Planted  a  Forest  of  Dust  /  2018  /  red  alder  charcoal  on  Fabriano  paper       8   In   February   2018,   I   stayed   4   days   in   a   very   rustic   shack   in   Chilliwack,   BC.   (Fig.   2)   This   extended  visit  on  this  specific  site  was  dedicated  to  making  charcoal  as  well  as  documenting   the   natural   environment.   The   drawing   series   (Fig.   3),   titled   The   Mad   Gardener   Planted   a   Forest  of  Dust,   reveals   forest-­‐like   compositions.   Even   if   I   was   drawing   from   photographic   sources,   I   was   re-­‐living   my   experience   of   the   site   where   the   charcoal   was   made.   Impenetrable  spaces  in  nature,  where  our  physical  bodies  are  denied  access  due  to  a  lush   wall  of  vegetation,  intertwined  branches  and  rock  walls,  hold  my  interest.  As  a  result,  this   series   of   drawing   is   an   attempt   to   deny   landscape   conventions:   usually,   the   viewers   are   given   an   entrance   point   in   a   space   supported   by   the   far   away   horizon   line.   In   my   drawings,   marks  are  applied  as  to  create  the  illusion  of  impenetrability  (Fig.  4).     How   one   pictures   nature   stems   from   human   exceptionalism 2 ,   which   reinforces   the   romanticization   of   experiences   of   nature.   As   environmental   historian   William   Cronon   has   noted,   the   concept   of   wilderness   is   a   human   creation.   “(…)   We   too   easily   imagine   that   what   we  behold  is  Nature  when  in  fact  we  see  the  reflection  of  our  own  unexamined  longings  and   desires.”   (Cronon   1).   My   work   plays   with   our   inability   to   really   see   or   understand   nature   outside  of  these  hopes  and  desires  by  emphasizing  its  impenetrability.  Viewers  are  denied   access  to  the  pictorial  space  of  my  drawing,  immobilised  in  a  state  of  observation.  Through   the  process  of  drawing,  I  learn  more  about  my  subject.  I  thought  I  had  experienced  natural   sites  while  in  fact,  I  too  was  restrained  by  my  lack  of  knowledge  of  the  tree  species  and  by   my  own  body,  which  isn’t  very  agile  in  the  forest.  Consequently,  my  body  is  stopped  by  the   wall  on  which  I  draw  the  compositions,  replicating  a  prior  experience  of  nature.  However,                                                                                                                   2  Human  exceptionalism  can  be  understood  as  an  Anthropocentric  vision  of  the  world,  which  places  human  at   the  center  of  all  experiences  and  understanding  of  the  universe.         9   leaving  traces  of  my  hands,  creating  textures  and  elements  resembling  natural  features  with   my  fingers  are  ways  to  connect  myself  with  the  representations  of  the  site  (Fig.  5).       (Fig.  4)  The  Mad  Gardener  Planted  a  Forest  of  Dust  /  2018  /  red  alder  charcoal  on  fabriano  paper     59”  X  59”     10                           (Fig.  5)  The  Mad  Gardener  Planted  a  Forest  of  Dust  /  2018                              red  alder  charcoal  on  Fabriano  paper  /  detail       In   Chilliwack,   charcoal   was   made   using   the   already   fallen   branches   of   red   alder   trees.   I   was   able  to  identify  the  tree  species  since  I  carried  with  me  Plants  of  Coastal  British  Columbia,  a   book   that   records   most   trees   and   plants   alongside   their   descriptions   and   various   uses   over   time.  The  red  alder  tree  bark  was  used  by  indigenous  people  to  make  red  and  orange  dye.   Knowing   this   fact   supports   my   observation   that   red   alder   tree   charcoal   has   a   particular   pigmentation.   Unlike   the   regular   grey,   red   alder   charcoal   is   warm,   varying   from   umber   browns,  to  darker  tones  of  brown  and  greys  and  taupe  browns.  (Fig.  5)  The  specificity  of  the   charcoal  further  connects  the  drawings  with  the  site  from  which  they  are  inspired.         11   Material-­‐Making  Practice  .......................................................................................................................     To  fabricate  my  charcoal,  I  visit  a  site  where  a  fire  can  be  made.  The  length  of  stay  varies   around   two   to   three   days   since   making   charcoal   is   durational   as   well   as   experiential.   As   soon  as  the  perimeter  is  assessed,  the  extracting  begins.  It  is  difficult  to  identify  every  type   of  tree  I  harvest  from  since  I  prefer  already  fallen  dead  and  dry  branches.  Nevertheless,  this   lack   of   knowledge   is   significant—it   makes   me   reflect   on   how   we3  move   through   space   without   knowing   what   surrounds   us.   Perhaps   it   is   due   to   a   lack   of   curiosity   or   a   loss   of   necessity.   When   it   is   impossible   to   refer   to   specific   tree   species,   the   resulting   charcoal   is   later   labeled   with   its   geographical   provenance,   as   well   as   its   physical   attributes.   Beforehand,  each  branch  is  de-­‐barked,  simply  by  using  a  Swiss  knife.  This  repetitive  process   is  achieved  while  the  campfire  is  stoked.  The  naked  sticks  are  then  tightly  piled  in  a  metal   box,  which  is  put  into  the  fire.  A  big  rock  is  rested  on  the  lid  to  prevent  flames  from  creeping   into   the   box.   Carbonization   occurs   with   the   absence   of   oxygen;   it   takes   approximately   an   hour,   depending   on   the   size   of   the   sticks   in   the   box.   Relying   on   past   experience   and   intuition,  I  just  kick  the  box  out  of  the  campfire  when  I  feel  it  is  ready.  I  quickly  empty  its   contents   and   bury   it   under   sand,   snow,   soil,   or   whatever   can   act   as   a   shield   from   the   inevitable  contact  with  oxygen.  Doing  so  stabilizes  the  sticks  into  their  new  form:  charcoal.   This   entire   process   does   not   follow   scientific   method   but   rather   conforms   to   a   set   of   acquired  methods  that  are  dependent  on  my  experiential  knowledge.  The  resulting  charcoal   is  inconsistent,  unequal,  and  sometimes  fragile  or  too  hard.    Yet,  it  is  rich,  shiny,  colourful,   soft,   perfumed   and   its   various   shapes   are   what   fascinate   me   the   most.   The   inner   fibrous                                                                                                                   3  The  use  of  “we”  implies  a  generalization.  “We”  refers  to  industrialised  people,  which  rely  on  modes  of  production  that   are  powered  by  capitalism.  I  will  use  “we”  throughout  this  document,  but  a  “we”  that  has  lost  its  knowledge  of  how  things   are  made,  of  natural  processes,  of  matter’s  intense  specificity  outside  of  its  common  domestic  uses.     12   quality  of  the  diverse  types  of  wood  submitted  to  intense  pressure  activated  by  heat  reacts   in  various  ways:  twisting,  straightening,  curling…             (Fig.  6)  Charcoal  sticks  in  my  studio     (Fig.  7)  Four  types  of  charcoal.  Left  to  right  respectively  are:        -­‐A  charcoal  stick,  which  was  originally  drift  wood  found  and  carbonized  on  the  shore  of  Lillooet   lake  near  Pemberton.  The  texture  is  soft,  due  to  the  porous  nature  of  d rift  w ood.  Its  colour  is  light   grey,  very  shiny.      -­‐A  charcoal  stick  made  of  arbutus  tree,  which  grew  and  was  carbonized  on  Salt  Spring  Island.  The   texture  is  v ery  hard.  Its  colour  very  dark,  almost  black,  sometimes  with  shades  of  dark  amber.     -­‐A  charcoal  stick  made  of  yellow  cedar  branches  found  and  carbonized  in  Chilliwack.  Yellow  cedar   is  a  fibrous  wood,  very  flexible  when  the  tree  is  alive.  Yet,  the  texture  of  its  charcoal  form  is  hard,   similar  to  graphite;  same  for  its  colour.       -­‐A   charcoal   stick   made   of   vine,   which   grew   and   was   carbonized   on   Salt   Spring   Island.   The   vine   charcoal   retains   its   former   attributes;   it   is   twisted.   It’s   texture   is   medium-­‐hard   and   colour   is   regular  grey.       13   As   writer   Rachel   Jones   describes   in   her   contribution   to   the   book   On   Not   Knowing   –   How   Artists  Think:   Wonder  is  the  passion  that  can  accompany  not  knowing,  providing   we  recognise  that  the  object  we  encounter  is  not  the  same  as  what   we   already   do   know.   Wonder   arises   before   we   know   enough   to   make   utilitarian   calculation   about   whether   an   object   might   be   pleasing    or  useful  to  us  (or  not).  (Jones  19)     Charcoal  retains  this  ever  surprising  effect—the  process  invites  the  unexpected.  As  much  as   it  could  be  argued  that  wonder  is  found  in  most  artistic  practices,  it  is  important  to  embrace   its   manifestations,   whether   it   be   a   piece   of   charcoal   that   has   dark   brown   tones   in   it   or   a   crumbled   piece   of   paper.   The   little,   unexpected   outgrowths   of   my   use   of   charcoal   speaks   to   a  curiosity  and  engagement  with  the  natural  world  deepened  through  a  material  practice.     I   keep   going   back   to   an   understanding   of   the   Anthropocene4  in   my   writing   for   many   reasons,   but   mostly   because   I   can’t   avoid   its   theoretical   weight   and   alarming   manifestations.   In   comparison,   my   material-­‐making   practice   seems   so   slight,   specific   and   self-­‐engaged.   However,   it   is   a   way   to   speak   to   an   environmental   crisis,   restructuring   the   world   around   us,   through   a   specific,   ever   growing   inspection   of   materials   and   processes,                                                                                                                   4  A   commonly   shared   view   on   the   Anthopocene   is:   “The   recognition   of   the   concept   of   a   recent   human-­‐ dominated  age  that  is  materially  different  from  is  predecessors,  (…)  which  signifies  the  growing  influence  of   human   thought   and   action   in   shaping   its   own   future   and   the   planetary   environment.”   (Malhi   1)   Ecosystem   scientist   Yadvinder   Malhi   approaches   it   as   a   concept   emerging   from   the   intersection   of   a   plurality   of   disciplines,   yet   falling   under   systems   of   nominations/conventions   of   geology.   His   text   is   both   a   scientific/historical  examination  as  well  as  a  critical  review  of  the  concept  of  the  Anthropocene.  In  regards  to   critical  investigations  of  the  term,  or  re-­‐organizing  the  concepts  at  its  core,  Donna  Haraway  asks:  “How  can  we   think   in   times   of   urgencies   without  the   self-­‐indulgent   and   self-­‐fulfilling   myths   of   apocalypse,   when   every   fibre   of   our   being   is   interlaced,   even   complicit,   in   the   webs   of   processes   that   must   somehow   be   engaged   and   repatterned?  (Haraway  35)  In  her  writings,  she  advocates  for  ways  to  re-­‐think  the  fixity  of  a  term  that  only   describes  the  climate  crisis  we  are  in.  Haraway  urges  us  to  live  within  the  debris  of  a  world  in  metamorphosis.   I   will   use   the   term   Anthropocene   in   my   writing,   keeping   in   mind   that   it   is   not   a   neutral   term,   but   that   it   exists   within  a  web  of  definitions  and  should  always  be  the  source  of  critical  analysis.           14   and   a   recognition   of   the   ethics   of   making.   Charcoal,   an   earthly   medium,   is   interconnected   beyond  the  tree  it  is  made  from  and  the  drawing  it  is  part  of;  it  connects  to  a  multitude  of   histories,  communities,  (natural)  processes  and  practices  across  borders.     As  writer  Donna  Haraway  writes  in  her  book  Staying  with   the   Trouble:  “To  think-­‐with  is  to   stay  with  the  naturalcultural  multispecies  trouble  on  earth”  (Haraway  40).  Her  intent  is  to   highlight   the   multitude   of   stories   that   composes   a   phenomenon   and   how   these   interact   in   a   plethora   of   ways.   She   advocates   for   “geostories”   as   opposed   to   human-­‐centered   histories   since   they   are   written   by   the   critters   of   the   Earth,   not   by   the   subduing   forces   that   constitutes  systems  of  powers.  For  Harraway,  “geostories”  give  space  to  the  overlooked  and   will   change   our   understanding   of   problems   and   concerns   that   may   seem   insurmountable.   The   philosopher   Timothy   Morton   has   similar   concerns   that   he   expresses   in   his   essay   “Subsendence”:   “whole   and   parts   are   just   as   real   as   one   another.   It   is   simply   that   the   whole   is   less   than   the   sum   of   its   parts.”   (Morton   4)   Morton   is   simply   arguing   for   a   re-­‐imagined   conceptualization   of   holism,   a   token   description   of   eco-­‐systems   on   earth.   By   adopting   Morton   and   Haraway’s   logics,   it   becomes   perhaps   easier   to   deal   with   monstrous,   impalpable,   intangible   concepts   and   problematics   by   paying   attention   to   what   may   seem   invisible  at  first  glance.         To  zoom  back  on  my  artistic  practice  and  contextualize  what  has  been  stated  above,  what   making   charcoal   allows   is   and   investigation   into   the   multivalent   nature   of   the   material   itself.   The   point   is   to   unveil   the   material   possibilities   that   a   long-­‐standing   relationship   with   charcoal   permits.   I   approach   materiality   through   an   ecological   thinking   that   respects   the     15   fluidity   of   matter,   welcoming   its   limitations   and   connections.   I   understand   the   Anthropocene   as   a   critical   disposition   of   the   state   of   the   world   we   live   in;   I   speak   to   it   through   a   material   practice.   It   helps   to   build   an   ever-­‐growing   knowledge   of   the   subtle   networks  and  relationships  that  form  my  world,  and  the  world  I  share  with  so  many  other   species  and  communities  of  beings.     (Fig.    8)  A  display  of  handmade  charcoal  sticks  in  my  studio.       I  use  the  display  presented  in  (Fig.  8)  as  a  charcoal  palette;  an  organization  of  the  materials   I   make   by   texture,   colour   and   origin.   The   aesthetic   of   knolling5  refers   to   a   method   of   organization  that  highlights  every  singular  object  while  allowing  a  view  of  the  ensemble.  It   gives   agency   to   the   “parts”   of   the   “whole”.   Knolling   best   describes   my   attempt   to   develop                                                                                                                   5  A  design  student  who  came  across  the  display  of  handmade  charcoal  in  my  studio  (Fig.8)  introduced  me  to   this  word,  which  is  part  of  the  lexicon  of  the  design  world.         16   my  relationship  with  each  piece  of  charcoal  and  their  specific  material  characteristics.  This   orderly  display  allows  for  the  quick  selection  of  the  pieces  required  for  specific  textures  or   darkness   in   my   drawings.     Strangely,   it   also   functions   as   a   composition,   a   drawing   per   se.   Every  stick  is  a  mark,  which  eventually  is  erased  and  replaced.     Indeed,   my   charcoal   is   removed   from   the   industrial   manufacturing   procedures   due   to   its   handmade  fabrication.  Yet,  the  crafted  quality  of  the  charcoal  that  results  in  imperfections   and   random   features   interrogates   the   production   line,   which   places   material   in   this   ambiguous   state   of   infinite   reproduction   of   identical   objects.   Capitalistic   streams   of   production  affect  our  relationships  with  materials,  removing  us  from  their  formations.  Most   artists   lack   the   knowledge   required   to   produce   their   own   materials.   Not   knowing   your   materials,   how   they   are   made   and   their   compositions,   makes   it   harder   to   recognize   the   consequences   of   the   environmental   ramifications   of   their   productions   and   ecological   footprints   through   time.   Developing   a   set   of   relationships   outside   of   the   regular   flow   of   production   of   materials   is   critical.   It   forces   a   familiarization   with   practices   and   histories   that  are  typically  overpowered  by  the  manufacturing  industry.       Making   charcoal   is   a   way   to   address   its   origin   and   the   limits   of   its   use   since   I   am   then   confronted   to   consider   the   labour   it   takes   to   fabricate   it   and   how   accessible   are   the   resources  and  the  sites  where  it  can  be  made.  I  share  this  view  with  Lucy  Lippard,  art  critic,   activist,  feminist,  curator  as  well  as  writer.  In  her  book  Undermining:  A  Wild  Ride  Through   Land  Use,  Politics,  and  Arts  in  the  Changing  West,  Lippard  addresses  the  capitalistic  modes  of   production  that  power  our  relationships  to   places  and  things.    She  writes:  “Today  living  off     17   the   grid   is   a   political   statement   as   well   as   a   metaphor.   Every   rejection   of   the   national,   corporate,   electric   grid   is   a   declaration   of   independence   from   capitalism.”   (Lippard   16)   Producing  “off  the  grid”  means  contemplating  limitations,  reducing  the  distance  between  a   maker  and  her  medium.  In  my  own  practice,  I  am  examining  the  capitalistic  norm  through   my   engagement   with   charcoal.   By   avoiding   industrial   manufacturing   and   producing   my   own  medium,  consumption  and  consequences  it  may  have  are  regulated.             (Fig.  9)  Topography  of  the  m any  infinitesimals  /  2018  /  charcoal  sticks  on  panel  /  24”X24”     18   Additionally,  the  hand  made  charcoal  is  also  an  elaboration  on  materiality.  In  her  essay  “The   Force   of   Things:   Steps   toward   an   Ecology   of   Matter”,   political   theorist   and   philosopher   Jane   Bennett  pushes  the  definition  of  materiality  by  recognizing  “the  agential  power  of  natural   and  artifactual  things”  within  “the  dense  web  of  the  connections  with  each  other  and  with   human  bodies”  (Bennett  349)  .  What  she  calls  “Thing  Power”  acknowledges  the  exchanges   and   sets   of   relationships   existing   in   the   general   encounters   between   matter/things   and   human/non-­‐human   bodies.   This   perspective   acts   as   a   comprehensive   tool   to   examine   charcoal   as   more   than   a   medium.   In   Topography  of  the  many  infinitesimals  (Fig.   9),   charcoal   pieces  are  tightly  glued  together  on  a  panel  until  they  become  a  new  surface.  This  moment   reveals  itself  as  the  unification  of  formerly  separate  parts:  the  surface,  the  medium  and  the   drawing  (understood  as  the  performative  act  as  well  as  the  representation).  They  are  now   equal   players,   existing   as   a   whole.   “Thing-­‐power   is   this:   a   material   body   always   resides   within   some   assemblage   or   other,   and   its   thing-­‐power   is   a   function   of   that   grouping.”   (Bennett  354)  Resulting  form  this  assemblage  is  a  new  representation,  one  that  re-­‐qualifies   charcoal  as  a  mark  as  well  as  a  surface  and  medium.     Bits   of   charcoal   are   continually   falling   on   the   floor,   they   are   a   drawing’s   sedimentation.   A   charcoal  stick  is  used  until  it  either  crumbles  on  its  own  or  simply  becomes  too  short  for  my   fingers   to   hold.   Over   the   past   several   months,   I   have   been   collecting   these   pieces.   Their   formal   impracticality   poses   a   challenge,   yet   it   is   resolved   through   their   repurposing.   As   opposed   to   making   marks,   the   charcoal   bits   become   the   strokes   of   a   topographic   image.   Each   one   is   carefully   chosen   to   embrace   the   silhouette   of   the   charcoal   previously   put   in   place.   It   becomes   a   charcoal   mosaic,   an   assemblage,   a   collage,   or   a   sculptural   drawing.     19   Topography   of   the   many   infinitesimals   (Fig.   9)   stands   as   an   almost   monochromatic   sculptural   drawing;   an   ode   to   fallen   charcoal.   It   embodies   my   deep   desire   to   show   the   handmade  charcoal,  to  present  its  unique  qualities.  Ultimately,  the  collage  points  to  a  long   term   relationship   between   maker   and   medium,   from   the   handmade   fabrication   and   collection  over  time  of  charcoal  sticks,  to  the  careful  and  final  lengthy  assemblage.     Geological  time  /  natural  processes  .................................................................................................     Charcoal  provides  a  sense  of  temporality.  From  its  handmade  fabrication  to  its  state  of  dust   on   a   surface,   charcoal   resists   archival   properties   through   its   inevitable   decay.   A   natural   process   is   used   as   a   base   for   creation,   inviting   the   unknown   into   the   equation.     Carbonization   occurs   respecting   distinct   timelines.   Natural   carbonization,   like   fossil   formation  for  instance,  goes  beyond  any  human  timelines.  Only  the  thinnest  layer  of  carbon,   the   residual   organic   matter   left   from   a   once   lively   body,   resists   decay.   In   contrast,   I   manipulate  this  natural  process  of  carbonization  through  the  little  control  I  have  over  fire   (heat   and   pressure),   expediting   the   conversion   of   wood   into   charcoal   in   less   time.   Thereafter,  I  crush  this  newly  form  material  into  fragments  while  drawing.  The  residue  that   forms   an   image   is   dust   on   a   surface   that   recalls   fossilisation;   a   vestige,   which   stands   as   a   representation  of  an  erstwhile  event  (a  visit  of  a  site  or  the  act  of  drawing).       Similarly,  research-­‐based  artist  Ilana  Halperin’s  practice  is  deeply  intertwined  with  natural   processes   that   depend   on   time   at   a   scale   rarely   exploited   by   artists.   In   We   Form   Geology     20   (2012-­‐13)6,  she  left  a  design  carved  out  of  wood  using  laser  cut  technologies  in  calcifying   water   where   limestone   slowly   grew.   The   varied   iterations   of   her   alliance   with   natural   processes   speak   of   her   engagement   with   materiality   as   well   as   scientific   methods   such   as   her  careful  studies  of  the  chemical  attributes  of  the  environments  in  which  she  leaves  her   objects.   Halperin   situates   drawing   (a   growth   of   limestone   on   a   surface   is   a   drawing)   as   a   tool  to  measure  the  unperceivable  (time).  Materiality  is  the  quantifiable  element  she  relies   on  to  situate  the  work  within  realms  of  space  and  time.       Processes   and   engagements   with   materiality,   elaborated   on   above,   depend   on   the   fluid   notion  of  time.  Time  in  terms  of  geological  measurements  or  time  in  terms  of  instantaneous   consumption.   The   former   is   intangible   and   dependant   on   tools   to   be   made   clearer.   As   an   example,   we   can   theorize   the   age   of   the   Earth   from   the   studies   of   rock   formations.   The   latter,   speaks   to   capitalistic   ways   of   transforming   materiality,   ignoring   temporalities   inherent   to   matter,   for   a   quick   consumption   or   re-­‐configuration.   Obvious   examples   are   petrol   and   coal,   which   we   consumed   at   an   accelerated   rate   knowing   that   they   take   millions   of  years  to  form.  In  The  Geology  of  Media,  new  media  theorist  Jussi  Parikka  states:  “geology   is  an  excavation  into  earth  and  its  secrets  that  affords  a  view  not  only  to  the  now-­‐moment   that  unfolds  into  a  future  potential  of  exploitation  but  also  to  the  past  buried  under  our  feet.   Depth   becomes   time.”   (Parikka   13)   Layers   of   time,   stacked   as   compressed   materiality   (stratigraphy)  become  visible  through  the  technological  advancement  of  our  media  culture   and   pursuit   of   knowledge   in   geological   studies.   Etched   in   rocks   are   temporalities   and   stories  that  we  are  only  beginning  to  read.                                                                                                                     6  An  Image  of  We  form  Geology  can  be  found  at  https://www.studiointernational.com/index.php/ilana-halperininterview-geological-phenomena-volcanoes-drawing-photography-gallstones.     21                                             (Fig.10)  Dust  Standing  over  its  Eventual  Sediments   2018  /  charcoal  on  Fabriano  paper  /  60”  x  95”           22   My   interest   with   geology   and   stratigraphy   have   escalated   lately,   forming   a   space   for   metaphorical  interpretations  as  well  as  physical  explorations.  It  is  another  way  to  study  the   concept   of   impenetrability,   when   our   bodies   are   literally   stopped   by   natural   formations   (previously   addressed   in   my   drawings   (Fig.   3-­‐4-­‐5)).   Slow   metamorphoses,   erosion   and   geological  growth  are  impossible  to  capture;  our  only  option  being  a  careful,  scientific  study   of  the  mineral  compositions…  or  drawing.  Through  my  physical  engagement  with  drawing,   through  gestures  and  an  accumulation  of  marks,  I  am  attempting  to  portray  the  instability   of  what  seems  like  the  most  stable  matter  on  earth.  It  is  a  way  to  acknowledge  an  invisible   impermanence,  which  is  dependant  on  a  concept  of  time  that  we  cannot  fully  understand.     After   visiting   Utah   in   the   summer   2018,   I   came   back   with   an   extensive   amount   of   photographic   documentation   of   geological   formations.   Facing   these   rocky   walls,   the   existence  of  which  implies  timelines  beyond  the  imaginable,  shifted  my  experience  of  that   landscape   from   horizontal   to   vertical,   asking   me   to   consider   my   body.   This   corporeal   realization  parallels  my  experience  in  the  studio  where  I  draw  impenetrable  compositions,   facing  the  wall  on  which  the  paper  is  hung  vertically.  I  climb  up  and  down  a  ladder   to  cover   the  surface  with  marks.  As  French  philosopher  Maurice  Merleau-­‐Ponty  states:   We   also   find   that   spatial   forms   or   distances   are   not   so   much   relations   between   different   points   in   objective   space   as   they   are   relations   between   these  points  and  a  central  perspective  –  our  body.  (Merleau-­‐Ponty  370)     This   statement   embodies   the   definition   of   phenomenology,   a   philosophical   theory   that   places   the   body   and   its   senses/one’s   bodily   experience   at   the   center   of   consciousness.   I   draw   on   Merleau-­‐Ponty’s   words   with   the   intention   to   connect   distanced   events   into   one   layered  experience.  These  events,  happening  in  distinctive  spaces  at  different  times  follow  a     23   similar  (vertical)  logic.  The  bodily  experience  of  the  impenetrable  rock  walls  in  Utah  is  not   unlike  the  performative  act  of  drawing,  nor  is  the  experience  of  the  viewer,  immobilised  in   front  of  a  drawing  on  display.  Dust   Standing   over   its   Eventual   Sediments     (Fig.  10)  is  the  re-­‐ enactment  of    multiple  sensorial  events.  Yet,  it  is  also  the  material  depiction  of  fragile,  yet   durable  sandstone  monuments  that  have  been  subjected  to  erosion  for  millennia.  I  saw  the   rock   monuments,   sitting   in   their   own   sediments,   which   have   slowly   accumulated   at   their   foot.   In   my   studio,   the   opposite   occurs.   I   manipulate   dust,   a   manifest   form   of   charcoal,   to   draw   the   dark   cracks   and   fissures;   the   armature   of   the   massive   geological   body.   Artist   Robert  Smithson  powerfully  compares  earthly  features  to  our  human  attributes  in  his  essay   “A  sedimentation  of  the  Mind:  Earth  Projects”.  “The  entire  body  is  pulled  into  the  cerebral   sediment,  where  particles  and  fragments  make  themselves  known  as  solid  consciousness.”   (Smithson  1).       Dust   Standing   over   its   Eventual   Sediments   (Fig.   10)   is   an   elaboration   into   the   physical,   vertical   and   impenetrable   experiences   of   a   site   and/or   the   wall   of   my   studio   and/or   the   experience  of  the  viewer.  Yet,  it  is  also  a  depiction  of  a  physical  reality.  The  realistic  aspect   of   the   drawing   is   due   to   the   charcoal’s   ability   to   resemble   the   rock.   Some   marks   were   applied  with  the  intention  of  creating  a  sense  of  roughness  and  weight.  Other  marks  are  left   open,  signalling  the  performativity  of  a  gesture  and  pointing  to  an  eventual  continuation  of   the   composition.   The   drawing   seems   unfinished   since   the   top   and   bottom   of   the   composition   are   left   un-­‐rendered.   This   tension   between   finished   or   unfinished,   between   controlled  or  loose  mark  is  generative:  the  depiction  holds  both  the  performative  aspect  of   drawing  as  well  as  the  photographic  details  of  the  site  on  which  it  is  based.       24   Depictions    .......................................................................................................................................................     As   mentioned   previously,   representation   describes   all   forms   of   process-­‐based   images,   which   also   includes   depictions.   Yet,   I   am   depicting   when   I   am   drawing   from   a   visual   source   which  are  often  a  photograph  and  an  object/form  I  can  see  and  hold.  In  her  essay  “See  for   yourself:   Drawing   (Out)   the   interior   of   vision”,   research-­‐based   drawing   artist   and   writer   Lynn  Imperatore  deconstructs  the  act  of  drawing  from  a  visual  source:   We   suspend   cognition   of   the   known,   take   the   sensory   data   of   vision   apart   and   put   it   back   together,   but   differently,   reimagined   and   reinvented.   We   reach   through   the   layers   of   seeing;   beyond   culturally   acquired   assumptions   of   representation,   beyond   habits   and   expectations   that   typically   direct   how   we   look   upon   the   world   (Imperatore  4)       Imperatore  suggests  that  even  the  attentive  reproduction  of  pictorial  data,  passing  from  the   eye   to   the   hand   to   an   exterior   surface,   holds   a   unique   quality   that   is   dependent   on   the   artist’s  subjectivity.  Vija  Celmin  is  an  artist  whose  work  is  fully  dedicated  to  the  depiction  of   physical  worlds,  mostly  inspired  by  photographic  images  that  emerge  from  either  science,   historical   archives   or   personal   documentation.   She   depicts   textures,   landscapes,   objects   with   an   incredible   precision.   Her   drawn   depictions   are   so   close   to   reality   that   it   fools   the   eye  for  a  moment.  Yet,  it  is  through  a  longer  interaction  with  the  artwork  that  the  deeply   profound   nature   of   her   hyper   precise   drawings   is   unveiled.   Celmins,   speaking   about   her   work,  argues:   When  you’re  further  away  you  think  ‘Oh,  yes,  this  is  an  image  and  it’s  a   sky   image.’   And   then   you   come   up   very   close   and   it   becomes   just   dust…   charcoal   that   has   light   in   it,   light   and   charcoal,   light   and   the     25   absence   of   it.   When   a   viewer   approaches   the   drawing,   the   whole   thing   is  revealed.  (Celmin)7     As   a   drawer   who   uses   charcoal,   I   recognize   the   material’s   poetic   invitations;   charcoal   is   dust,   applied   on   a   surface   as   to   allow   starlight   to   represent   our   idea   of   the   universe.   Vija   Celmins’s   statement   brings   me   back   to   the   intrinsic   values   found   in   the   act   of   depicting   the   world   with   charcoal.   Handmade   charcoal   further   manipulates   the   quality   of   these   depictions.   An   image   I   draw   is   dependent   on   a   mastering   of   the   medium,   which   is   achieved   through  a  deeper  understanding  of  the  fundamental  features  of  charcoal.     (Fig.  11)  collage       (Fig.  12)  Odds  and  Ends/  2019  /  charcoal  on  Stonehenge  /   30X30”                                                                                                                         7  January  1st  2019,  I  visited  the  MoMA  in  San  Francisco  where  Vija  Celmins’  work  was  exhibited.  Vija  Celmins  –  To  Fix  The   Image  in  Memory  (Dec  15t  2018  –March  31  2019)    consist  of  five  decades  of  artworks  that  are  presented  alongside  written   descriptions  and  the  artist’s  own  words.  I  borrowed  this  quote  from  Vija  celmins  from  a  wall  text  in  the  museum.       26   Odds  and  Ends   (Fig.   12)   is   based   upon   a   collage   of   two   fragments   (Fig.   11).   The   assemblage,   which  is  then  scanned  and  acts  as  a  physical  reality  from  which  the  depiction  is  made,  has   two   distinctive   parts:   one   is   a   piece   of   crumbled   paper   covered   with   charcoal   and   the   other   is   an   old   printed   photographic   source.   While   drawing   Dust   Standing   over   its   Eventual   Sediments    (Fig.  10),  I  was  holding  that  photographic  source;  my  sustained  hold  affected  the   paper,   which   over   time   became   riddled   with   cracks.   The   new   image   that   emerged   from   this   interaction   (my   hand   holding   the   object)   now   stands   as   the   record   of   the   experience   of   drawing  in  the  studio.  It  brings  to  light  paper  as  an  undeniable  variable  in  the  equation.  Like   charcoal,  paper  helps  the  creation  of  marks,  supports  the  formation  of  representations  and   more  importantly,  holds  an  image  through  time.     Consequently,   it   must   be   said   that   paper   has   agency.   Unlike   charcoal,   which   I   make   in   natural  sites  and  develop  a  deep  relationship  with  over  time,  paper  is  a  material  I  am  still   discovering   even   if   it   is   an   undeniable   part   of   drawing.   Earlier   in   this   document,   I   elaborated  on  the  ethical-­‐political-­‐ecological  ramifications  of  my  material-­‐making  practice,   which   was   focused   on   charcoal.   I   clearly   don’t   have   the   same   relationship   with   paper   despite   the   important   roles   it   has   played   in   my   work   through   the   formation   of   representations,  as  matrixes,  surfaces,  supports,  objects,  sources  and  more.  Paper  is  a  new   subject  of  examination,  a  material  deserving  the  same  attention  as  charcoal.  Consequently,  a   new   technique   was   developed,   that   uses   the   materiality   of   paper   as   a   subject   of   investigation.           27     Cyclical  Process  ............................................................................................................................................     Charcoal   is   the   specimen   brought   into   my   studio   alongside   various   forms   of   documentation   from  the  natural  sites  I  have  experienced  or  produced  my  material  in.  My  first  approach  is   to  make  a  drawing  which  will  likely  be  a  depiction  made  from  photographic  sources  of  a  site   I   visited.   This   first   iteration   of   drawing   generates   residues   that   are   then   used   in   further   compositions.   From   these   newly   born   forms,   new   processes   emerge   and   the   activity   of   depiction   expands.   Multidisciplinary   artist   Lucy   Skaer   makes   drawings   that   challenge   representation   through   their   pictorial   materiality,   often   by   the   repetition   of   the   same   gesture  or  form.  In  The  Siege  (2008)8,  the  drawing  is  solely  composed  of  tiny  spirals,  only   visible   through   close   inspection.   She   deliberately   exposes   the   making   of   her   image;   the   thousands  of  mini-­‐gestures  that  eventually  form  the  overall  image.  She  deconstructs  how  a   representation  functions  and  blurs  the  line  between  figuration  and  abstraction.  In  my  own   work,   a   drawing   will   inspire   multiple   artworks,   which   then   become   referential   to   each   other,  even  if  the  newly  formed  representations  tend  to  become  more  abstracted.                                                                                                                     8  An  Image  of  The  Siege  can  be  found  at  http://images.tate.org.uk/sites/default/files/styles/grid-­‐normal-­‐8-­‐ cols/public/images/lucy_skaer_thesiege_2008.jpg       28         (Fig.  13)  Charcoal  monotype  /    2019    /    charcoal  on  paper    /  10”  X  10”                         29     (Fig.  14)  Charcoal  monotype  /    2019    /    charcoal  on  paper    /  1 5”  X  33”     30   The  back  and  forth  between  activities  ensuing  in  the  studio  can  be  described  as  a  cyclical   process.   Everything,   from   drawing   a   depiction   to   picking   up   the   fragments   of   charcoal   on   the   floor,   exists   as   a   starting   point   to   another   work.   Failed   drawings   or   paper   excesses   in   my  studio  are  re-­‐purposed.  They  become  the  subject  of  a  new  technique,  which  speaks  to   the   cyclical   process.   I   start   by   applying   charcoal   on   the   paper   surfaces,   then   crumbling   them—a   multitude   of   these   drawn   crumbled   forms   are   made.   Then,   the   inherent   materiality   of   these   unique   drawings/crumbled   forms   are   mechanically   transferred   with   acute   precision,   through   the   physical   pressure   of   a   press,   onto   a   paper   support.   They   become   charcoal   monotypes,   where   I,   the   subjective   power   in   the   artistic   process,   am   further  removed.9  The  impressions  are  the  culmination  of  a  collaborative  process  between   material-­‐medium,   chance,   handling   and   pressure.   As   much   as   they   are   about   materiality,   the  charcoal  and  the  paper  being  the  main  subjects,  they  also  look  like  rock  formations.  The   cracks   and   folds   recall   mineral   surfaces,   or   foreign   mountainous   landscapes   seen   from   above.   The   infinite   microscopic   particles   of   charcoal   debris   are   transported,   their   density   reproducing  the  matrix  from  which  it  is  transferred;  each  a  pixel  of  a  high-­‐resolution  image.   The   charcoal   monotypes   are   multidimensional,   embossed   on   paper.   Unlike   oil   based   ink   prints,  these  can  easily  be  erased.  In  this  new  process,  one  drawing  is  transformed  into  two   images;  twin  representations,  mimicking  each  other.                                                                                                                       9  In   order   to   keep   consistency   throughout   the   text,   “I”   is   used   in   this   paragraph   while   in   reality,   it   should   be   a   “we”.  The  charcoal  Monotype  technique  was  devised  by  Mark  Johnsen,  a  printmaker  in  the  MFA  program  at   Emily  Carr  and  myself.  This  process  is  the  result  of  an  ongoing  collaboration  that  relies  on  the  sharing  of  our   knowledge.   It   is   dependant   on   both   the   plate   as   a   fundamental   aspect   of   printmaking   technologies   and   the   specific   qualities   of   drawing   with   charcoal.   Our   intention   is   to   further   accentuate   the   possibilities   of   our   images   and   expand   their   potential   to   capture   detail   rivalling   photographic   processes.   We   believe   that   the   charcoal   monotypes   re-­‐think   where   the   art-­‐making   happens   (in   the   initial   drawing   or   through   its   printed   reproduction),   and   they   question   the   inherent   divide   between   discrete   media   and   material   methods   (the   space  between  a  drawing,  a  photograph,  and  a  print).     31   My  practice  involves  a  cyclical  process;  a  feedback  loop  occurs  between  every  activity.  One   work  is  the  starting  point  of  another  since  an  incentive  for  creation  is  always  present  in  the   residues,   facilitating   the   formulation   of   future   works.   This   cyclical   process   takes   form   through   an   iterative   process   that   results   in   the   formation   of   many   images.   Steve   Garner,   designer,   author   and   director   of   the   international   Drawing   Research   Network10,   notes   in   Writing   on   Drawing   –   Essay   on   Drawing   Practice   and   Research:   “Drawing   research   represents  a  powerful  opportunity  to  demonstrate  the  ability  to  generate  new  knowledge   about   the   visual   and   to   communicate   this   through   visual   imagery.”(Garner   17)   Garner,   in   his  attempt  to  define  “drawing  research”  suggests  that  we  shouldn’t  shy  away  from  image-­‐ making   in   relation   to   research   since   it   is   the   primary   language   of   drawing.   Too   often,   research   is   done   through   the   manipulation   of   words,   setting   aside   other   methods   of   representation  in  terms  of  academic  research.  I  raise  this  point  because  I  realised  that  my   research-­‐based  practice  took  form  through  the  serial  production  of  images  that  happened   in  my  studio  over  the  past  year  and  a  half.  The  cyclical  process  that  describes  the  activities   in  the  studio  forms  the  research  that  supports  every  decision.  I  am  responding  to  materials,   the   surfaces   and   the   experiential   knowledge   I   develop   while   drawing   in   the   studio   and   visiting  sites,  to  create  representations  that  further  define  drawing  as  a  reactive  method  for   research.                                                                                                                         10  “The  Drawing  Research  Network  (DRN)  was  established  in  2001  as  part  of  the  The  Big  Draw.    The  DRN  is  an   international  network  of  individuals  and  institutions  who  are  involved  in  some  way  with  improving  our  understanding  of   drawing,  for  example  through  professional  practice,  education  or  general  interest.  It  aims  to  use  this  knowledge  to  raise   the  profile  of  drawing  and  drawing  research.”  (Drawing  Research  Network)       32   The   most   recent   iteration   of   my   research   based-­‐practice   is   what   I   call   the   matrix   transference.   The   process   of   making   the   charcoal   impressions   generates   almost   twin   images:  the  obvious  and  the  overlooked.  The  former  is  the  charcoal  monotype  itself  while   the  latter  is  the  matrix,  now  flattened  and  stripped  from  a  thin  layer  of  charcoal  dust.  I  have   been   collecting   these   seemingly   trivial   matrixes   with   the   intention   of   re-­‐purposing   them.   Lately,  I  have  started  making  collages  that  juxtapose  these  matrixes,  or  fragments  of  them.   sometimes  with  pictures  I  have  been  using  to  create  former  depictions.  These  collages  are   scanned   and   printed   so   they   now   exist   as   physical   documents   from   which   the   process   of   depicting  begins.     (Fig.  15)  Chiffonnage  /  2018  /  charcoal  on  paper  /  100”X60”       33   Chiffonnage   (Fig.   15)   is   a   window   into   a   new   representation   of   space,   referential   to   rock   formations,  to  a  charcoal  impression  precise  records  of  details  and  to  a  topographical  map.  I   use   my   drawing   abilities   to   depict   the   now   ambiguous   form   of   what   was   formerly   paper.   The   matrix   transference   is   the   peak   of   the   feedback   loop,   where   all   the   parts   constituting   my  practice  are  reunited.         Conclusion  .......................................................................................................................................................     Recently,  I  have  been  thinking  about  the  concept  of  pressure  as  a  generative  force.  Pressure,   whether  conceptual  or  physical,  is  the  force  that  consolidates  all  the  parts.  Resources  and   materials  are  pressurized  by  capitalist  regulations  of  production.  The  environment  suffers   from   that   constant   pressure,   a   burden   that   goes   against   the   regular   geological   pressure   (stratigraphy)   dependent   on   accumulation   of   deposit   through   an   interminable   period   of   time.  Rock  and  organic  matter  are  transformed  through  intense  pressure,  which  is  the  same   force  at  play  in  the  creation  of  charcoal.  The  intense  heat  that  sublimates  wood  into  simpler   molecular   structures   is   not   unlike   the   action   of   a   printing   press.   Compressing   multidimensional   surfaces   into   a   thin   layer   of   dust—a   charcoal   impression   lingers.   The   most   significant   form   of   pressure   is   applied   by   my   own   body,   my   hand   when   I   draw,   pushing   materiality   around.   This   thread   is   ever   present   in   my   practice,   and   serves   as   a   unifier  for  the  many  frameworks  constituting  my  research-­‐based  practice.     As  I  stated  at  the  beginning  of  my  thesis  document,  it  is  initially  my  love  for  drawing  that   has  brought  me  here.  I  developed  research  based  on  the  continual  materialization  of  images   in   the   studio,   from   which   questions   emerged:   How   does   a   deeper   understanding   of   a     34   material,   charcoal   for   instance,   from   its   fabrication   to   its   use,   affect   the   production   of   representations  in  image  making?    And,  how  is  drawing  a  gateway  to  research,  conceding   that  an  iterative  process  in  image-­‐making  is  its  prime  method?  Indeed,  a  deeper  knowledge   of   charcoal   has   shaped   my   experience   of   drawing.   It   has   affected   the   directness   and   confidence   with   which   I   draw.   Making   my   medium   has   connected   me   to   a   web   of   relationships   that   speaks   to   larger   concepts   and   grounds   my   practice   here   and   now.   Drawing,  whatever  form  it  may  take,  has  been  the  incentive  for  research.  I  wish  to  pursue   cultivating   my   practice   while   mindfully   navigating   new   sites   that   sustain   my   creative   energies.           35   Reflection  on  the  Thesis  Exhibition  ..................................................................................................     (Fig.  16)  View  of  the  thesis  exhibition  installation    Rock  Paper  Charcoal     My   thesis   exhibition   also   titled   Rock   Paper   Charcoal   has   brought   together   various   narratives,   such   as   processes   of   making   (burning,   drawing,   pressing…),   the   journeys   from   outside  to  inside,  from  the  studio  to  the  gallery,  and  the  phenomenology  of  (geological)  time   and  space.  The  latter  speaks  to  layered  experiences  of  places,  where  immobility  is  imposed:   the  rock  wall  and  the  studio  wall,  merged  and  transmitted  into  one,  a  viewer’s  experience  of   the  gallery  space.     Drawing   (with   charcoal)   was   the   binder,   unifying   all   the   parts   (artworks   and   ideas).   Displayed   in   a   plethora   of   forms,   drawing   was   found   in   large   depictions   of   rock   that   undeniably  pointed  back  to  the  maker  and  her  traces,  and  through  the  subtle  placement  of   charcoal   sticks   on   a   table,   a   design   leading   to   drawing.   My   selection   of   artworks   functioned     36   as   a   sequence,   each   part   having   the   potential   to   explain   the   next   one:   everything   was   intrinsic.   Perhaps   this   installation   was   a   site   to   explore   process,   or   more   specifically,   to   better  understand  how  to  reveal  process.   The  charcoal  dust  is  inevitable,  flowing  on  every  surface,  its  micro  particles  floating  in  the   air   until   it   settles.   Charcoal   is   infectious,   disguised   in   the   gallery   space   through   many   appearances.  The  medium  is  present  in  its  raw  state  as  a  display  of  charcoal  sticks,  the  main   ingredient   to   every   one   of   my   artworks   and   the   starting   point   of   every   process.   It   is   also   trapped   within   the   paper,   resembling   a   fossilized   being,   an   indexical   record   of   movement   through  time.     (Fig.  17)  View  of  the  thesis  exhibition  installation    Rock  Paper  Charcoal  (right)  and  of  Robin   Gleason’s  thesis  exhibition  (left)       The  space  inhabited  by  my  artworks  was  shared  with  Robin  Gleason,  a  fellow  MFA  student  I   have   been   working   closely   with,   outside   collecting   and   making,   as   well   as   inside,   building   and   planning.   We   treated   the   gallery   space   as   an   environment   where   our   work   could   co-­‐ exist:  the  result  being  an  installation  where  the  line  differentiating  our  work  is  blurred.  It   created  a  tension  that  calls  in  question  authorship:  Who  made  what  wasn’t  specified  on  a   label,   a   closer   inspection   of   the   work   was   required   to   access   each   artist’s   narrative.   This     37   close   proximity   enhanced   each   others   process   and   time   as   main   themes   of   both   our   installations.   In   closing,   my   installation   embodied   the   storyline   of   my   evolution   in   the   past   year   in   the   MFA   program   and   my   explorations   of   various   sites   that   inspired   my   production.   One   of   which   is   the   studio,   where   I   started   extracting   the   remnants   of   creation,   mirroring   my   material   making   practice   in   nature,   when   I   make   my   charcoal.   This   was   key   to   the   development   and   success   of   my   research   and   consequently,   to   the   series   of   works   that   I   exhibited  in  Rock  Paper  Charcoal.           38   Bibliography Works cited A. 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