Kath Fries Studio: October 2012

Bundanon artist-in-residence diary

Kath Fries, Bundanon studio and works in progress, 2012

I'm working in the Freedman studio at Bundanon, during my four weeks as artist-in-residence here. It's a converted barn with large windows, letting in lots of natural light and looking out into the artists-in-residence courtyard and over surrounding farmland. There's only a few traces from previous artists here before - intriguing minute remnants from their working processes - innumerable tiny pin holes in the walls and irregular colourful paint splashes here and there. Even these small things seem to add to the space's charged creative atmosphere.

Kath Fries, Bundanon studio and works in progress, 2012

The studio is a wonderful space in which to think, draw, plan, collate and examine my collected objects and materials. I'm fascinated how they change in a different contextual space - removed just a few steps away from their original surrounds. Against the white walls and enquiring atmosphere of the studio (one step closer to the white box of a gallery) these objects and materials can be untangled, reconsidered, manipulated, combined and viewed very differently to how they are encountered outside.

Kath Fries, Bundanon studio and works in progress, 2012

I'm currently one of several artists-in-residence at Bundanon Trust. My artist-in-residence blog diary traces an important aspect of my process as I get to know the site and begin making work in response to my experience of being here.

Bundanon artist-in-residence diary

Kath Fries, Dandelion parachute studies, Bundanon studio, 2012

Drawn into details, I've been delicately playing with dandelion seed parachutes, staging them amongst found pieces of wood and the natural shadows of the late afternoon. These salvaged dandelion seed parachutes are so tiny and fragile, they are instantaneously blown into the wind or overlooked and crushed underfoot.

Kath Fries, Dandelion parachute studies, Bundanon studio, 2012

I'm finding it interesting to take the time create anthropomorphic* personalities for them, to explore their sense of tenacity and adventurous spirit, tasked with taking on - and taking over - the big wide world. I'm also intrigued as to how long these ephemeral materials will last now that they are removed from the outdoor elements and sheltered in the almost clinical, cool, dry, still atmosphere of my studio.

*(the attribution of human characteristics to nonhumans)

Kath Fries, Dandelion parachute studies, Bundanon studio, 2012

Dandelion Taraxacum officinale are found as weeds worldwide, native only to Eurasia and North America. These species are edible in their entirety. Dandelions (from French dent-de-lion, meaning "lion's tooth") have very small flowers collected together into a composite flower head. Each single flower in a head is called a floret, 2–5 cm in diameter and consist entirely of ray florets. The yellow flower heads lack receptacle bracts, all the florets are ligulate and bisexual, so the seeds are produced by apomixis, without pollination, resulting in offspring that are genetically identical to the parent plant. The flower heads mature into spherical "clocks" containing many single-seeded fruits called cypselae. These are oblanceoloid in shape and 2 to 3 mm long with slender beaks and ribbed with sharp edges. The silky pappi, which form the parachutes, are white to silver-white in color and around 6 mm wide. This parachute pappus of fine hairs enables wind-aided dispersal over long distances. Dandelions are seed dispersed ruderals that rapidly colonize disturbed soil, as a result dandelions have been spread over much of the temperate world.

Reference link

Kath Fries, Dandelion parachutes and thistledown harvest, Bundanon studio, 2012

After flowering is finished, the dandelion flower head dries out for a day or two. The dried petals and stamens drop off, the bracts reflex (curve backwards), and the parachute ball opens into a full sphere. Finally, the seed-bearing parachutes expand and lift out. The parachute drops off the achene when it strikes an obstacle. After the seed is released, the parachutes lose their feathered structure and take on a fuzzy, cotton-like appearance, often called "dandelion snow".

Reference link

Kath Fries, Bundanon studio diary, 2012, photograph

Bundanon artist-in-residence diary

Kath Fries, Bundanon studio diary, 2012, photograph

Kath Fries, Bundanon studio diary, 2012, photograph

Thistledown - the soft featherlike hairs attached to thistle seeds... in botanical terms thistledown is known as the compositae pappus - the whorl of sepals collectively forming the outer layer of the perianth enclosing the seeds - making up the calyx.

Kath Fries, Thistledown studies, Bundanon studio, 2012

At Bundanon, near the banks of the Shaolhaven River, I've collected quite a lot of thistledown, but can't always avoid the sharp needle-like thistle thorns. An interesting textural contrast - but when I'm not paying enough attention it can also be a little bit painful!

Kath Fries, Thistledown studies, Bundanon studio, 2012

Thistledown is so light and fragile, it floats on the breeze, parachuting the thistle seeds to disperse them far and wide. Very successfully - thistles are growing everywhere here. Although they are a noxious weed, every part of the plant can apparently be safely eaten by humans - once the thorns are removed and the plant is prepared properly, and thistle seeds are traditionally used to treat liver aliments.

Kath Fries, Thistledown studies, Bundanon studio, 2012

The strong afternoon sunlight in my studio clarifies the shadows of the thistledown, so much so that the shadows became easier to see than the thistledown itself.

Kath Fries, Thistledown studies, Bundanon studio, 2012

"... He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight,

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!..."

(Twas the night before Christmas,

written by Clement Clarke Moore, 1779 - 1863)

Kath Fries, Thistledown studies, Bundanon studio, 2012

Bundanon artist-in-residence diary

Kath Fries, Bundanon studio diary, 2012, photograph

Kangaroo fur wrapped around and cushioning the barbed fences, small traces of the roos daily dusk migration across the paddocks. Why did the kangaroo cross the road?