Art, Beauty, Bertram Booker, Bertram Brooker, creation, Henry Moore, humour, London, Mount Winnipeg, photography, Picture Framing, reflections, Starry Night, Stephen Gingold Photography, travel, Vincent Van Gogh, Winnipeg
Tomorrow is supposed to warm up – so I am charging up the cameras and getting ready. I’d like to make a trip out to photograph Mount Winnipeg – don’t look it up in Wikipedia, it’s not there.
But today a little story from yesterday. Not yesterday as in yesteryear – but yesterday the 6th of January 2014 (Epiphany for some of us).
We ordered a photographic print from a photographer we admire and whose blog we follow – Steve Gingold. The print arrived just before the holidays. Yesterday we went to decide on mattes and framing. While at the framers we picked out some less expensive, standard sized frames for some items we had been wanting to frame for some time. See them above.
The large picture is one of our daughter Megan’s. When she was starting out painting she really admired (still does) Vincent Van Gogh. She created this interpretation of his Starry Night masterpiece. We also had a couple of prints to frame. The top right, is a print my daughter Heather gave me from our visit to Henry Moore’s home last October. It is a series of studies of a reclining nude. The bottom one was another gift (Megan), a print of Bertram Brooker’s Sounds Assembling. This was from a recent great masters of the world exhibition in the Winnipeg Art Gallery.
So our ‘Gingold’, “The Touch”, is now being prepared for us – our print will be ready within two weeks. (Click on the link to see this beautiful photograph).
In the meantime I went ahead with framing Megan’s artwork and the two prints.
First tip in framing with packaged frames – make sure you have plenty of room to lay out the artwork, the frame and the glass from the frame.
I think I have mentioned before that I can be a little impetuous once I have decided to start a project. I knew where we wanted to hang the three pieces; in my office/study. The study doubles as guest room so has a bed as well as my desk and clutter.
I laid the pieces to be framed on the bed with the large frame and put the two smaller frames aside.
The big frame went well. I was able to remove the painting from its old frame (a temporary one that was too big and the wrong proportions, but served well for two years). The new frame fit perfectly and was soon ready. I propped it up on the bed and sat back onto my desk chair to admire my efforts.
That’s when I realized the seat felt more lumpy than usual, and I heard a kind of crunching sound. The nerves from my reclining posterior, coupled with signals from my ears connected deep inside my brain and slowly, slowly, my brain came to a decision and informed me I had sat on the two new frames, and with the crunching sound, it assumed I may have broken the glass. Aren’t brains wonderful? But why did it let me sit on them in the second place. I say second place, because it should have told me to put them somewhere safer in the first place. I can’t be blamed for a brain that doesn’t think of my life as a real job.
I stood up, peeked inside the bag in which the two frames had been carefully placed for transport home.
I pulled out the two frames. I had certainly left an impression on the top one. The glass was shattered – many pieces mimicking the London Shard (in my opinion, an ugly great monstrosity of a building in London), which itself mimicked shards of glass – that being the architect’s point I assume. Still I guess it beats the 60’s and 70’s when architects used cigarette packages for inspiration. Was this an instance of art mimicking life or life mimicking art mimicking life? Now my brain is confused.
I wasn’t a happy camper at this point. I think I probably had that pouty face look. Susan offered several suggestions she thought might make me feel better. Advice to spouses everywhere, sometimes it’s just best to commiserate and then leave the other alone for a bit.
Now the good news. One of the prints (the Moore) was dry mounted to foam board and had a very nice protective finish. This meant 1. It was too thick for the frame with glass, and 2. It didn’t need glass, in fact looked better without it.
The second frame was undisturbed by my rude intrusion of its space. So the Brooker, which needed the glass was satisfied.
Notice: no human gluteus maximus was injured in the making of this post. Sort of a posteria post.
Hopefully tomorrow I can get back to photography and get some inspiring views of Mount Winnipeg.