After spending the winter of 2024 taking pictures of the drying leaves and flowers on my studio table, which turned into the photograph series Leaves and Flowers 1-100, 2023-24, I could only imagine myself drawing from the photographs. I am obsessed with natural form because I live in a city. And I want to make a constant statement about nature. To remind people who see my work that the natural environment exists. To remind people of its preciousness, to remind people to appreciate nature, and to remind people to care for it.

I picked six of the latter photograph series to be printed in a small format on large photo printing paper which would not resist pencil and colored pencil and ink if I drew on it. I intended to pick photographs whose forms I could easily imitate through drawing on the same page. In my vision was also the idea of creating a border around each piece like that found in Japanese hanging screen paintings. My borders are, however, more active with imagery, relating to the context of ‘repeated form.’

These six works are concerned with design, shape content, color dispersion, elegance, and a bit of whimsy.

The first piece, above, was the most difficult, in retrospect, because I was uncertain about what ‘repeated form’ meant. As one can see, the surface of the page is filled with ‘drawing,’ reflective of the photograph and also what is imagined. Perhaps the piece is even overdone.

The second piece, above, became less involved because I let about half of the white paper show through. I also chose not to add natural forms that were not already in the photograph, except for the green and red ones in the lower right which I found in a picture of a kimono in the Yale University Art Gallery collection. The large black and graphite shapes come from tracing the contour of the drawing, below the photograph, of the group of leaves and red lily blossom and its accompanying shadow.

When I reached the third piece, below, I was so taken by the biomorphism of the right side of the photograph, that I likened it to two paintings by Cy Twombly from 1961, Ferragusto III and IV. I scanned reproductions from one of my Twombly books and cut them up to coincide with parts of the two-inch border width. These printed scans are also inserted into the main body of the piece. The rest of number 3 is filled with variations of the drawing of the contour of the stark multiple leaf form from the left side of the photograph.

The red dried lily blossom on the left side of the photograph in number 4, above, overtook my projection of how the drawing would be. The lily rests on a bed of freesia petals. The large acacia leaf lies under all of those petals. So that is what I focused on: repeating these shapes as much as I deemed necessary.

I had reached a neutral place in the process of making these works.

In number 5, above, the photograph shows a strong central shape consisting of an arrangement of different leaves. I decided to isolate some of the parts and imitate them in the drawing. Multiple times. This drawing succeeded in giving its elements breathing room. I added the form of the red lily blossom for design purposes.

The last one. I chose the photograph for number 6, above and below, because the subject was spare. So, from the beginning, I had subliminally hoped to reduce the amount of drawing I would do. I was seizing onto the shape content immediately. And saving the best for last.

Repeated Forms 6, 2024, details

copyright 2024 Lyn Horton