An Interview with Marianne Seabright

Marianne Seabright, a successful and gifted artist, is invited to talk about her artistic influences, her practice as a painter and as a member of Sarah’s Monmouth Life Drawing Class.

Born in Hertford in 1977, how did your Art related education begin?
My education started as a child- much to my mother's dismay I drew on the walls in our home, in family books, on my skin and on my clothes, particularly dresses.
My Grandfather Henry Seabright was an Artist and Illustrator, although I never had the chance to meet him, I grew up with many of his unfinished paintings.
My Dad, Robert Seabright is an Artist/Graphic Designer and he taught me to draw and encouraged me to paint. He took me to the London galleries and surrounded me with the Masters. He told me I had a talent and I should keep a portfolio and go to art school. I actually qualified to do nursing instead.
However, after nursing for 3 years I found it hard to ignore the urge to do creative practice and enrolled on a part time foundation in Bristol; this led to a degree in drawing and applied art at UWE. I believe I made more of art school as a mature student. I went there when I was 30 and I was awarded a First.

Has your approach as an artist changed since you were involved in the ‘Institutional’ environment of learning?

Institutional learning trains you to become an independent, self reliant artist. You learn to harness your creativity and focus your strengths. At Art school you are encouraged to push boundaries and explore everything, there are no limitations, sometimes it can be confusing and you wonder if you are wasting your money. But when you finish, you reflect upon it for years after. However, in the commercial world it is not the same as being at University - it is harder to survive. Just because something is pushing boundaries doesn't mean it is good.

Yes, my approach has changed. I can do what I want now. I don't have to worry about grades or assessments. I still reflect critically about my work. I think about what the tutors said or might say but now I do it for me and no one else.

How would you describe your style in a maximum of five words?

Textural, Tonal, Tangential, Empathic, Atmospheric- Marianneish.

You believe you are instinctively born with a 'stick' to a 'brush'. With this in mind, explain why your current work leans towards paint ie a brush.

I was born with a stick but I am determined to adopt a brush. I lean towards paint because I am trying to push myself. Paint has a wider vocabulary and the possibilities are endless. It is exciting and difficult. I don't like easy paths, struggle is good.

You are able to turn your hand to any medium, which one do you struggle with the most? Which one do you find more natural?

Drawing is more natural.

With regards to paint- generally oil is easier than watercolour because you can wipe it away. But it depends on my mood and the subject matter. Sometime I see something and immediately think 'Watercolour'- and I do it- like magic. Then I think, how did you do that Marianne?

Are you a self taught painter?

I learn by looking, I read books, look at other artists and ask my Dad about things.

Why is colour important to you?

Colour relationships are fascinating and the possibilities are infinite. Sometimes you can put two or three colours next to each other, the viewer will know you are describing skin or water. There are common recipes and formulas that work well. There is so much to learn. I think that colour is a combination of science and psychology.

What does the figure provide for you as an artist, which for example animal life excludes for you?

I love both but animal pictures are dangerous territory. My landscapes look dead.

I take figures more seriously for some reason. I like how humans hold themselves, their weight and curves. How they behave, how they age, what happens to their bodies when they graft hard, or sit in the sun too long or when they get too fat. Human psychology is more obvious than animals, their bodies are an extension of their psychology and it is interesting to study that.

It is important that you know your sitter or figure in the composition? What changes for you if you do not know them?
No, that is not important. Sometime it is harder to draw someone you know. But I always feel I know someone better when I have drawn them. Attachment is a theme that runs through my work. So I think about the person I am drawing or who I am drawing the picture for. If I don't know the person I am drawing I may be less attached to the finished painting.
Should the sitter talk to you whilst you are drawing them or painting them?
Yes. It is interesting to hear their stories. Their history is part of their portrait. I am listening and absorbing it and it is going it and coming out in the marks I make.
As I learn more about the sitter it helps me build a picture of their life, thus building a stronger attachment to them, which consequently will make a better subject matter. I want to paint all my friends and family- but not everyone will sit for me though.
Within the subject of figurative art or portraiture, what does a Life Room add for you?
Creative energy and atmosphere of the life room, helps me focus and work hard. It seems so natural to me, there is nothing like it, it is better than chocolate cake.

Is nudity or the Nude important to explore?
Not really, I think the nude is about studying and understanding the anatomy- but I don't draw the nude to study anatomy.
I go because of the opportunity to draw someone in real life who stays still. I feel really privileged to be able to do it and find it has really helped my figure work. It has helped me improve the use of form in figure-work .
How do you choose your colour in the Nude? Your palette choice on flesh tones?
I look at the tone of the skin and match it with colour. However, I know that our bodies are made up of a large % of water, and water reflects light and colour. Skin is transparent and colours from our insides must be coming through the skin. I think about skin damage too. I also use artistic license and portray good colour relationships. I try not to worry too much about the right skin tone. Form is more important to me.
One thing at a time.
You are sitting in a Life Room and the session will be beginning in a few minutes; do you have a goal of results to complete for the session? How much mental preparation do you give yourself or you feel you need to give to yourself?
Not really. I enjoy the process as much as anything else. I tend to not enjoy it much if I am too worried about the end result. If I get a good end result its magical.
As soon as we start the warm up I begin to focus on the connection between my eyes, brain and hand, once this is achieved I am in the Zone. This has taken YEARS to control and is only truly been achieved recently. It takes between 15 - 20 minutes to get oiled. There are two are methods I use to warn my brain that I am going to get into the Zone, getting my materials together and visualizing class up to a day before. Once I am in the Zone, it is a bit dream-like and I feel a bit out of it. Talking is an antidote to the Zone, but I like to listen, in fact I listen better when I am drawing.
What is the quickest drawing/painting you have completed? How long did it take?
Not sure- I think you might have been there. 2 minutes? Maybe less.
Would you like to work on a figurative piece over several hours, days? If so, why is this important to you?
Yes, but I am beginning to think that I might be better at time-limited drawing and painting. Some of the best things I have done are quick and care free. Thanks to you.
I want to start working bigger again.

Harriet Barber - Breast Cancer Life

Harriet Barber is a Dorset-based artist who paints and draws from life. Her subjects include landscapes, riverscapes, seascapes – and the human figure. She undertook her three-year postgraduate study in the rigorous 'F' Studio at the Slade School of Art, working solely from the figure during that time.

Breast Cancer LIFE is a project which grew out of her collaboration with Art@Plush organiser Dot Browning, and a number of other women who had undergone treatment for breast cancer, following Harriet's own diagnosis in 2008.

Breast Cancer LIFE explores beauty, femininity and self-image – which are often deeply affected by the treatment women receive for breast cancer.

The women who participated have all given their time freely for the project. For most it was their first experience of sitting for an artist.



Would You Pose Nude to Boost your Self-Esteem?

It sounds like a mortifying ordeal most of us would shy away from, but more and more women are posing for nude portraits as presents for their partners or morale-boosting treats for themselves.
By Rachel Halliwell, Daily Mail 10th February 2011

'I WANT TO LEARN TO LOVE MY CURVES'

Businesswoman Rachael Ritchie, 41, lives in Ashby-de-la-Zouch, Leicestershire, with her husband, James, a 41-year-old mechanic, and their daughter, Charlie, 17, and son, Sam, 12. Rachael says:
I've spent 20 years bemoaning the way I look and enduring endless diets in an attempt to change my body shape. Since I married James in 1991, I’ve been every size, from a 12 to a 20, but at no point have I felt completely happy with my appearance. Yet through all those years of yo-yo dieting my ¬husband has always told me I am the most beautiful woman he knows.



He buys me pretty underwear and tells me I’m sexy, but still I beat up myself over my curves. In our home we have several pieces of art that feature naked women of all shapes and sizes. I see beauty in them all, yet struggle to do the same with myself. The older I get, the more tragic that seems to me.

That is why, when I saw an advert for a studio that specialises in nude portraits, I decided to go along. Yes, it was nerve-racking undressing in front of strangers, but I knew they were just trying to make me look beautiful. I felt so self-conscious about my tummy and kept telling the ­photographer to get rid of my rolls of fat, but when I saw the pictures, that wasn’t what I noticed. I just thought I looked fabulous. I saw for the first time what my ­husband sees: a sexy, curvy woman.

Claire McLauchlin-WHhitehead, 28, is a PR executive. She lives in Manchester with her businessman husband, Anthony, 27. Claire says:
No one knows what I’m doing today — my husband thinks I’m working late. It’s not that I’m embarrassed; I just don’t feel the need to tell people about it.




I want to be able to look at them in years to come and remember what it felt like to be a young woman, in the same way I look at my wedding ¬pictures and instantly recall the day I got married. I’ve always hated my legs — I’m convinced they are bigger and chunkier than they actually are — but seeing the shots made me ¬realise it’s all in my head. I know my body is far from perfect, but having these ¬photographs taken is a way of teaching me not to ¬agonise over my looks. I think the pictures will sit in a drawer somewhere, rather than be put on show. I don’t think Anthony would feel ¬comfortable having them on display in our home when his friends come round.

All women should have a set of nude photographs done, whatever they decide to do with them, so they can be reminded there are more aspects to them than most people know.

David Hockney: Why I Paint Instead of Just Picking Up a Camera

Interview by Martin Gayford - September 18, 2006

Sept. 18 (Bloomberg) -- David Hockney was struck by a remark of Jeremy Deller, the Turner Prize Winner in 2004: ``Artists don't paint these days, in the way that people don't go to work on a horse.''

``I pinned that up on my studio wall,'' Hockney said in an interview. ``I thought, he obviously thinks photography has supplanted painting. A lot of people think that. But I thought that remark was naive. I take a very different view of art history.'' He certainly does: in fact he has been busy for the last few years trying to turn the history of art upside down.

This autumn, there are three major events involving Hockney, who is seldom out of the limelight. There are two exhibitions: new landscapes at the Annely Juda Gallery, and a retrospective of his portraits next month at the National Portrait Gallery. And Hockney is publishing an enlarged edition of his controversial book ``Secret Knowledge,'' which argues that European painters used optical devices such as lenses and mirrors as far back as the 15th century.

All three of these apparently separate endeavors are linked. Each is connected with this David's struggle against the giant of photography. His complaint is straightforward, yet profound: He thinks the camera has dulled our image of the world. He feels that the dominance of the camera-eye view of the world in all the media -- and increasingly in art too -- is ``doing us damage.''

It isn't that Hockney despises photography. On the contrary, he admires masters such as Henri Cartier-Bresson, whom he once encountered by chance on the street in Paris.

``He was looking through his viewfinder and moving his camera slightly up and down, and side to side. I thought: That man knows what he's doing, I'll follow him a bit.'' The next day, they were formally introduced. ``He wanted to talk about drawings and I wanted to talk about photography,'' he said.

`Matisse Picasso'

Hockney still wants to talk about that subject, but not to praise it. He told me this anecdote about a visit to the great ``Matisse Picasso'' show at Tate Modern in 2002.

``I went with Lucian Freud, Frank Auerbach and John Golding (co-curator of the exhibition) at 8 o'clock one morning, just us. And it was stunning, a terrific show. When we came out, I noticed there were four big photographs hanging on the wall, recent acquisitions by the Tate. Lucian and Frank just walked past them. I looked at them and I thought, 'F*** me, Picasso and Matisse made the world look incredibly exciting, photography makes it look very, very dull. Yet now we're moving back to all the stuff that modernism moved away from.''

This dichotomy can be traced in Hockney's own work, and therefore in the ``Hockney Portraits'' exhibition. His first mature style, with which he made his name in the early 60s, employed a cheeky figurative drawing together with near-abstract passages. Then his work got steadily tightly focused and -- for want of a better word -- photographic until the mid-70s.

I Am Not a Camera

At that point, Hockney was famous, successful -- and very dissatisfied with his own work. ``There was something wrong with what I was doing. I've called it `obsessive naturalism,' but then I didn't know what it was.'' He abruptly changed course. ``I worked in the theater solidly for three years, which was a liberation, a new kind of space for me, and the moment I stopped working in the theater, I started playing about with a camera, when I made the pictures with Polaroids.''

It was with these works -- paradoxically using a camera -- that he began to explore the question, ``What can't photography do?'' One answer was that it can't represent the 360-degree wraparound space in which we really exist. But Hockney found he could map this using a mosaic of small, close-up Polaroid images.

History of Art

From there he was led to examine Cubism -- a non- photographic idiom if ever there was one -- and eventually to a completely new reading of the history of art. According to this, the Hockney thesis, there are two ways of representing reality. One, which he calls eyeballing, is done solely by looking, and depicting what you see. The second makes use of the ability of lens and mirrors to project images, creating images that appear photographic.

Hockney has pushed the photographic approach back far further in time than ever before, as far as Van Eyck and Brunelleschi. He is irritated by the oft-repeated statement that the camera was invented in 1839. ``It wasn't invented at all actually. You can't name the inventor of the camera. The 19th- century invention was chemical: the fixative.'' Types of camera had existed long before.

All of this stirred up a hornet's nest of enraged academic rebuttal when ``Secret Knowledge'' was first published in 2001. The controversy persists in scholarly articles and on Web sites. Hockney is sticking to his guns. On the claim, for example, that Caravaggio worked a little like a Hollywood director, he is unapologetic, and also dismissive of the suggestion that, if so, the great master was ``cheating.''

Approach to Life

``I never got why the art historians got so het up. Actually, it makes Caravaggio more important and more original. He's really drawing with optics in a fascinating way. But I don't think there's any other explanation of how those pictures were made.''

The more you talk to Hockney, the more you realize this isn't just an art-historical question. It's about an approach to life. A drawn or painted portrait, he said, incorporates much more time.

``I pointed out that Sam Taylor-Wood's video portrait of David Beckham for the NPG was an hour long. Whereas Lucian Freud's portrait (of Hockney) took 120 hours of sitting -- layered into it -- which makes it infinitely more interesting.'' Hockney himself often works much more quickly than that, but his portrait models, almost all family and friends, are people he has been observing for years, if not a lifetime.

Yorkshire Countryside

Everything Hockney does is about seeing what's around us, and seeing it better. Recently, he went out in the Yorkshire countryside, where he has been painting for the past two years, and stopped his car beside the road. ``I took one of those Japanese sketchbooks and I'd draw different grasses in the hedgerow. After 2 1/2 hours I'd filled the sketchbook, and after that I saw that hedgerow a great deal more clearly.''

``If you'd just photographed it, you wouldn't be looking in that way. Drawing makes you see things clearer, and clearer and clearer still, until your eyes ache. The image is passing through you in a physiological way, into your brain, into your memory -- where it stays -- and it's transmitted by your hands.'' That way of working, in Hockney's view, is well worth preserving.