Tag: methods of investigating

  • Written response

    In Lines: A Brief History, Tim Ingold explores the fundamental relationship between drawing and writing. He states that ‘The engraver was an artisan, not an artist ; his lines were not expressive but reproductive.’ (Ingold, 2007, p. 135) and discusses how artisans who engraved letters and inscriptions were historically considered craftsmen rather than artists. 

    This idea directly resonates with my project, where I focus on tombstones. The theme I wanted to bring up in my project is how engraved texts carry meaning. When I observed the engraved names and dates on tombstones, I was struck by how these inscriptions, that hold immense emotional and symbolic weight end up disappearing. They are not written for the dead but for the living. Inspired by this, I decided to highlight and reinterpret these marks.

    I began to draw the letters rather than simply write them, allowing them to dissolve and merge into my drawings of plants. In doing so, I blurred the boundary between text and image. While the technique of engraving immobilises the letters, I chose, buy drawing them, to make them lively again. Rosemary Sassoon’s assertion that ‘the form and line of a letter is as sensitive and expressive as the line quality in a drawing’ (Sassoon, cited in Ingold, 2007, p. 179) further reinforces my approach. In my work, writing becomes drawing.

    As the stone, a symbol of permanence, begins to crumble and fade, I replaced it with the motif of plants that grow and continue to live. This shift from mineral to organic matter represents the transformation of memory, from something fixed and engraved to something living and evolving. The letters, once static, become part of a living landscape.

    In The Gleaners and I, Agnès Varda investigates in her own way the different aspects of gleaning, from an ancient practice to what it has become today. She brings up a memory from her childhood, she had already seen gleaners in the fields near the house where she lived, and that this image had made a lasting impression on her. She considers herself a gleaner of images and her approach on the subject is personal as she goes around with her camera.

    My approach on this project is similar as I went to a churchyard because of my initial interest around death, with my camera and discovered a whole other aspect of the place. Between the stones and the trees, I saw people. I ended up reading information about unknown families and people based on their names and chose to pay tribute to them through my photographs.

    References :

    – Ingold, T. (2007) Lines : A Brief History. London : Routledge, pp. 120–151.

    – Varda, A. (2000) The Gleaners and I [film]. Paris : Ciné Tamaris.

  • Week 3 : Concept

    Feedback said that the nature could take over the whole page. So I decided to play with transparency, and started experimenting with tracing paper.

    The layer of tracing paper functions as a veil, evoking the materiality of a tomb covering and producing a soft, ghostly texture. Meanwhile, nature expands across the image, gradually overtaking the composition. The typography is designed to merge effortlessly with the image, becoming part of its atmosphere rather than standing apart from it.

    I created a system in which the names are initially unreadable, only becoming legible when two sheets of tracing paper are carefully aligned on top of each other. It makes the viewer’s engagement intentional and tactile.

    I used the font ont from Wikipedia and turned it into an organic font with missing/disappearing parts.

    Printing each part separately, I drew the white parts by hand so it would be more organic.

  • Week 1 & 2 : Investigatinggg

    First visit of the churchyard : I took pictures of every thing, tombs, plants, details…

    The names carved into stone, meant to stand as eternal markers of human presence, are gradually eroding, but at the same time, nature is growing, spreading. This interplay between human intention and natural processes raises profound questions about memory, legacy, and the passage of time.

    I ended up focusing on the graves where the text had been completely erased. With the man-made engravings completely gone, I imagined how moss would replace them.

    I drew the disappearing words, transforming them into new, custom fonts, and painted the moss in watercolour. Through this process, I sought to give them a lasting presence, to immortalise elements that were otherwise fading from memory.

    Documentation of the site is minimal, and personal histories were even harder to trace. While archival materials may list names and dates, visual evidence is largely lacking. Photographs are titled ‘No Grave Photo’, evoking a strange, haunting feeling, leaving the viewer with a sense of loss. It is oddly ironic : it signals the presence of information while simultaneously denying it.

    I did several tests, with a watercolour effect giving a mossy texture, fine drawings teeming with life. I also played with typography but the vivid green consistently felt off.