2021/11/21 at 10:13. My second post is about the red cover of the Tantra catalogue. I know from the Arts Council’s archives that it was difficult to get the colour right. Perhaps Philip was after the sensuous thrill of traditional Indian pigments. But it’s tricky.
2021/11/21 at 11:49. I’ve tried to make sindhoor and failed. One recipe mixes turmeric, lime juice, and ghee with slaked lime. When I put this to the test the paste quickly darkened from red to black. Perhaps perishability and sensuality go together. Commercial printing inks are valued for the fastness of their colours. This seems to rule out a full-on engagement with the senses.
2021/11/22 at 08:34. Open the catalogue. At a stroke the brightness of the cover turns into a black and white photograph. It’s an act of ethnographic witnessing by Richard Lannoy in Benares in 1960. I hope to write more about this transition, it’s like entering a studio.
2021/11/22 at 08:34. The old tantra catalogue persists amidst monochrome drawings. Nearby is a Kodak Carousel magazine left over from teaching in art schools. Here I am collecting tiny drawings set in old slide mounts.
2021/11/22 at 08:42. If I gave a lecture using these slides they wouldn’t project.
2021/11/22 at 11:30. When Heide died, thinking I must do something, I wanted to produce a spoonful of black pigment in her memory. Like an alchemist I sought a transformation, so searched for some old piano keys that had been stored in my studio for decades.
2021/11/22 at 11:49. My intention was to char the ivory tops with a blow torch. I was then going to grind the residue into a fine powder. Heide would have been anxious about both the fumes and the dust but also understood that this pigment produces a superb black paint if oil of turpentine was added. This addition would have smelt like a remote stand of pines, reminding Heide of her home in the forests of Landes.
2021/11/22 at 17:45 – But another thought followed. A more ethical idea. Deep in a nearby coppice I could cut lengths of willow like a charcoal burner. Having stacked these ‘withies’ in a conical pile and rendered it airtight with a covering of earth, I’d light a fire. By opening up small vents here and there, what should go up in flames doesn’t. It burns very slowly. After several days, I’m told the smoke becomes transparent and, at this moment, I’ll be able to rake charcoal from inside.
i.m. Heide Sieverts Pawelzik (1942 – 2021)
Click either square – ivory black or charcoal
