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04 . 21

 
 
 
 

dart ochres : april ‘21

Caroline Ross writes: “These earths are from Devon in SW England, from the watershed of the River Dart. When I was about to go and gather them, a third lockdown was announced in England, and so I could not travel more than 8km from home. Two friends in the area, Anja and Nina, agreed to gather the ochres for me and to send or deliver them. At home I dried, loosely ground and sieved the pigments; they did not need washing. These iron rich earths are typical of the Totnes area. Last time Paul Kingsnorth was teaching at Dartington, he dug me a huge lump of this very red, which we used to make paints at the first Wild Twins course. For me, this offering of Dart ochres is about friendship, adaptability, it breaks the myth of the lone isolated artist. No, these earths are abundant, generous, inter-connected and versatile. Enjoy them.”

Dart Gold Ochre was gathered for Caroline Ross by her friend Anja Byg. Anja has written the following about her foraging experience:

“That which should have been down is up; that which should have been hidden has been exposed. The tree once provided shade and shelter, transported water and minerals and transformed carbon dioxide and sunlight into energy and oxygen. It connected the above and the below in the manner of all great trees, and was itself connected with fungi, microbes and other trees in ways that mostly escape our above-ground oriented senses. Now the tree’s body is lying horizontally along the forest floor, dead, no longer an axis between heaven, earth and the down below, toppled over by a storm. Even so, the tree is still giving to the forest, is still part of the community: the fungi growing out of its wood, the beetles and other insects chewing their way through its stem, and I, who walk by, and you, who receives this.

When the force of the wind against the stem grew too much and the roots could no longer anchor the tree in the ground they took with them part of the soil in which they had embedded themselves. A slice of what was ground beneath our feet has been thrust upward into the sky, a latticework of roots suspending stones and clay, the holder and the held having changed roles and positions.

Cold hands now scoop some of the clay into a bag, feet move the body into a house, then onto a train. While the tree sleeps on in the forest and is slowly transformed into the lives of other creatures the clay travels to a big city, gets handed over, sorted, repackaged, sent off to another part of the world. It continues its journey, transforms into something else, travels to your hand. Where will it go from here?”

Dart Red and Bronze Ochres were gathered for Caroline Ross by her friend, Nina Cadzow (@ninacadzart) who has written the following about her foraging experience: 

“A subtle sense of loss I grappled with through a significant part of my life was due to a lack of connectivity to the earth where my ancestors trod. I was born in an ex-British colony, in a dry parched landscape, wide horizons, dried up river beds and interminably vast vivid skies. On the walls of my grandparents house were pictures of verdant hills, cute thatched cottages nestling cosily like puddings in comfy clusters, (clearly indicating close knit community), and swathes of bluebells carpeting broad leafed woods. And of course there was the nostalgic narrative and a host of stories that went with that. They were suffering the plight of all migrants who find themselves, for a myriad of reasons, somewhere they don’t have a connection with. They pined for an often misguided idyll, forgetting that they left England due to hardship, poverty, lack of opportunity, lack of livelihood: The class problems of the Mothercountry were exported all over the colonial world.

It was in this climate of “unease” that I always felt I didn’t belong, I was always on the outside. Needless to say I ‘Returned Home’- Immediately the smell of the air, the dirt, the forests, the way leaves sounded in the wind, the undulating landscape, chirruping birdsong and soft baby blue sky were all recognised in a deep bone-blood level: a Visceral and spiritual connection; I have felt it and I know it, and I feel privileged to have been able to re-connect with this ancestral ground, this place I live, work and play in.

So I offer you some Red Devon Mud, which I have named ‘Westonfields Red’, a smooth and beautiful pigment that takes you from rusty rich red through to a delicate pastel pink, gathered from the fields above where I live.

 

contributor : caroline ross

Caroline Ross lives on a boat on the River Thames in England. A finder of things and a forager by inclination, she makes art and art materials from the natural world and things humans discard or discount. Despite a mostly deadening art education, and an MA in Painting from Chelsea School of Art, she somehow managed to return to the roots of why she might make art, where earth matters, and where the hall of mirrors of human opinion is not the driving factor. She teaches people how to draw, to make paint from earth, ink from galls, pens from feathers. She runs the unique course Wild Twins for writers and artists with her friend Paul Kingsnorth, author of 'The Wake' and 'Confessions of a recovering Environmentalist'.

Her work is found in Dark Mountain books, private collections and anywhere drawings or objects may be encountered, including the woods. www.carolineross.co.uk 

Photo courtesy of Caroline Ross

Photo courtesy of Caroline Ross

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