To distract from the no-leaves, no-sun, no-daylight problems of January, I’ve spent this month delving into Ancient Greek colour theory. Makes sense; Ancient Greece has always sounded like a sunny enough place, and it’s good to look at something more vibrant than the dull winter sky.
More specifically to these colour theories, I’ve been thinking about the elements Earth, Air, Fire & Water. They have somewhat unexpected alchemical colours, and are in many ways illogical to a modern audience (me). There’s clearly some power in their connection, and the terrestrial elements have been followed particularly closely by this month’s Artist in Conversation.
Andy Hayes describes himself as an ‘Accidental Artist’, which is somewhat fitting to the abstracted appearance of his prints. Chaotic and tumultuous at times, the unpredictability of his printing derives from an avid interest in learning, exploring and understanding printing processes. To facilitate abstraction, Andy has paid close attention to different modes of printing, and his enthusiasm, embrace of mistakes, and impulse to learn has led to the creation of multiple series of powerfully abstracted works.
Following a lifetime amongst the arts, Andy’s interest in print making is inspired by the creativity witnessed all around him. He has an artistic family, his dad having worked at the Watford School of Art, and has spent decades viewing contemporary art throughout London. Andy’s also been heavily involved in 26’s creative endeavours as its director.
Speaking about his art, Andy told me how print making came into his life at a work Christmas party in 2019, where the team activity was to paint with acrylics on canvas. Brush in hand, something completely abstract emerged- unpredictable, messy and free. As Andy began to attend printing classes and grow in confidence in his making, his art continued to be unapologetic, growing from increased technical understanding, but at its heart a gestural, visceral thing.
Throughout his printing classes, Andy is drawn to the unexpected. Recent projects have made collagraphs on synthetic sealed plates, where textures are applied, sealed, and run through a press. Known for embracing the unexpectedness, Andy’s classmates often save him the monoprint plates that have gone rusty, to play with the risk of rust warping or changing each print.
A recent series Andy’s been working on, Earth Air Fire & Water, groups works together as explorations of theme, tone, material and practice. The project sparked from a fascination with the elements in Athens, at the foot of the Acropolis. During his visit there, he was drawn to a glass case that had four pigments of black, white, yellow and ochre. These were 2000 years old, and maintained a preserved beauty that evoked awe towards each tone.
He began recording this series, trying to paint the colours as interlocking squares. This was more of a visual than intellectual interest in the elements, focussed on the colours and the grandiosity of their title more so than their relation to science, or emblematic significance as the four elements in alchemy. The colours intertwine in such a fascinating way. In their esoteric connections, fire becomes yellow, for its heat. Water becomes black, for the cold. Air becomes white, wet. And earth becomes red, for dirt.
After our chat, Andy sent me a selection of his recent prints from this series. He’s used a carborundum process of printing, manipulating the grit and abrasiveness of the materials to create painterly marks in print. He describes some prints in this process to look ‘Like a mountain range’. They really read as paintings, and it’s amazing to think they’ve been created using printing processes. Their abstraction is a perfect example of Andy’s approach of facilitating the unexpected. The colours of the series blend and merge into each other at different points, but still separate and hold their own space within the scene of the painting. There is truly a drama to the way the mediums have moved within each other.
In one print, the white sections are splattered across the edge of the composition, with the red tinting it to a delicate pink, blurring into the background and adding a brilliant depth to the piece. In a second print, the ink grows darker. The ochre and red blends into a deep background, with dripping black casting fluid shadow into the work. The white spreads across the print in reflective glitter.
There’s a balance of order and chaos that Andy tries to consider in his making. He describes it as the line between Mondrian and de Kooning. His works, in a way, appear as heat maps, drawing lines and marks and running them between each other to make sense of something else. They’re created in a powerful process, and there is something almost cartographic in the sections of each print occupied by different elements, spreading across the page.
Now, Andy tackles two paths – to stick to one thing, refine a practice before moving on, to keep distinct. Or, to experiment constantly. To make mess with tarnished materials and encourage the unexpected. He wishes he’d come to printing sooner, if only that painting class at the Christmas party had been a decade before it was.
There’s restriction to technical process that informs printing. That’s how Andy’s prints hold such abstraction. The understanding of the technical process allows a removal of control. Facilitating the mediums, letting the work flow through itself, acting as the guide for something otherwise beyond control. It’s a beautiful approach to abstraction.
Thanks, Andy.
– Joni Brown