DRAWING LIFE by fred hatt

2009/07/21

A New Old Medium

Filed under: Body Art — Tags: , , , , — fred @ 23:57
Catherine Cartwright-Jones Painting, 2002, photo by Fred Hatt

Catherine Cartwright-Jones Painting, 2002, photo by Fred Hatt

I’ve just returned from Sirius Rising, a festival of pagan arts and spirituality at the Brushwood Folklore Center in Sherman, New York, where I was teaching workshops and painting on bodies.  My colleague and mentor, Catherine Cartwright-Jones, shown above in a picture from 2002, was teaching a daily workshop on the art of Celtic Woading.

Catherine is widely considered the foremost authority on the history and worldwide traditions of henna body art.  As a scholar, she seeks out every available original source and delves into the history, chemistry, culture and techniques of traditional body arts, always testing theory through practice.

Numerous writers of the ancient Roman Empire described the use of woad, or blue body art, by the ancient Celts for both warfare and womens’ rituals.    Through extensive research and testing, Catherine has attempted to recreate this ancient traditional form of body art.  You can learn all about the history and Catherine’s work on it in the free e-book Finding Blue.

At the festival I had the opportunity to do some woading myself.  Like henna, woad or indigo (both plants produce a chemically identical coloring agent) create patterns that stain the skin for a week or more.  But while henna takes best on keratinized skin areas such as hands and feet, woad stains best on areas that have been sheltered from the sun.  The dye is applied with a brush.  It’s dark when it goes on, stains immediately, and when washed off leaves a blue stain similar in color to a faded carbon tattoo.  Over time that gradually fades like an old pair of blue jeans (also traditionally dyed with indigo).  Here’s a fresh application, and the stain remaining after washing:

Woad Grapevines, before and after rinse, 2009, woading and photo by Fred Hatt

Woad Grapevines, before and after rinse, 2009, woading and photo by Fred Hatt

Woad works well with a direct approach and a confident brush hand, whether the pattern is elaborate or simple.

Shoulder Emblem, 2009, woading and photo by Fred Hatt

Shoulder Emblem, 2009, woading and photo by Fred Hatt

Thriving, 2009. woading and photo by Fred Hatt

Thriving, 2009. woading and photo by Fred Hatt

If you’re interested in experimenting with Celtic woading or indigo body art, the materials, instructions and pattern books are all available through Catherine Cartwright-Jones’ website.  See Catherine at work on video below.  Her brushwork is a joy to behold.

2009/06/12

Fire in the Belly

Filed under: Body Art,Top Ten — Tags: , , — fred @ 10:39
Ignis, 2005, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Ignis, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

When someone is driven by passion or ambition we say they have fire in the belly.  It’s one of many idioms that describe mental or spiritual states in bodily terms.  These common sayings reveal our sense that the whole body, not just the head, is the vehicle of the soul and a field of clashing forces.

Body painting is an ancient art of transformation, to make the warrior more terrible, the young mate more enticing, or the shaman more of a dream creature.  I have used it as a medium of discovery, exploring the landscape of the body and finding the forces that lie beneath the surface.  In the type of body art shown here, there is never any preconceived design.  As the paintbrush follows the natural curves of the body, it becomes a kind of divining rod, finding the quality of energetic pools and flows and manifesting them in visible form.

The images in this post are all frontal torsos, painted in my studio in private sessions between 1999 and 2003, in which I used a free-flowing but symmetrical form to express the internal forces others have traditionally described in terms of chakras or internal alchemy.

White Strike, 1999, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

White Strike, 1999, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

A kind of lightning bolt centered on the heart or sternum, above, becomes a dancing Nature spirit in the example below:

Shaman, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Shaman, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

A colorful approach to the body’s structure becomes a festive celebration of the life force:

Botanic, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Botanic, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Arch, 1991, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Arch, 1999, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

In these, the body is wrapped in veils of more subtle color:

Cathexis, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Cathexis, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Dragonfly, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Dragonfly, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

In these examples, the belly becomes a vessel, containing and transforming energy that is projected upward and outward in the chest area:

Flask, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Flask, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Phoenix, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Phoenix, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Power Stance, 2003, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Power Stance, 2003, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Bright Seed, 2000, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Bright Seed, 2000, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Projection, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Projection, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

We all have a clear sense that acting from the gut, acting from the heart, and acting from the head are three entirely distinct ways.  Those who study yoga or martial arts learn to experience the internal force fields of the body in terms of chakras or dantiens.  My approach is loose and intuitive.  I hope it reveals the dynamic nature of the human body as structured energy.

2009/04/09

Dorsal Emblems

Filed under: Body Art — Tags: , , — fred @ 20:30
Bird Goddess, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Bird Goddess, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Most of the body art shown in my online portfolios here and here is full-body work done in my studio.  But I have also frequently done body painting at festivals such as Sirius Rising, Starwood, Dance New England Summer Camp and the American Body Arts Festival, at pageants such as Earth Celebrations‘ Rites of Spring, and for dance performances, gallery openings and parties.   At such events, people often want images that express their personality or symbols that have spiritual meaning for them.  It’s just like a tattoo, but more spontaneous, less painful, and far less permanent.

The back is a good surface for painting, because it is relatively flat and expansive, but also because in touching someone’s back I feel directly connected to their essential energy without being distracted by their face.  So here’s a collection of images painted on people’s backs.

Botanical imagery expresses vitality and the power of growth:

Flower of Life, 2007, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Flower of Life, 2007, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Green Man, 2004, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Green Man, 2004, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Yggdrasil, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Yggdrasil, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

This one is a Tree of Life, one of those archetypal images that appears in many forms in widespread cultures.  One of its meanings is making a connection between Heaven and Earth, as the tree penetrates and draws from the powers of both realms.  The trunk of the tree adorning the human trunk asserts that human life is poised between and nourished by the same poles.  The painting above was made to conceal a surgical scar with a healing symbol.

Another image of uniting the material and the spiritual worlds is the Winged Serpent.  The serpent slithering up the spine is also an expression of Kundalini, or the vertical flow of life energy in the body, while the wings express expansion and inspiration.  The wings on this one look a bit like a view of the lungs inside the thorax.

Winged Serpent, 2005, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Winged Serpent, 2005, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Quetzalcoatl, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Quetzalcoatl, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

The version directly above was made for a performance by the great dancer and choreographer Homer Avila, who had recently lost a leg to cancer.

The butterfly expresses the idea of transformation and rebirth.  I find it nearly impossible to capture the beauty of a real butterfly in paint.  I reach for the feeling of expansiveness:

Papillon, 2005, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Papillon, 2005, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Birds express freedom and transcendence, power and intensity.  Here are three strong birds:

Firebird, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Firebird, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Eagle, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Eagle, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Falcon, 2005, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Falcon, 2005, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

What I love most is when someone gives me free rein to paint whatever naturally emerges from the contact of my imagination and their body, through the divining-rod of the brush.  Here’s a proud striding bird:

Walking Bird, 2005, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Walking Bird, 2005, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Arcs, 2005, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Arcs, 2005, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Here is a pure abstraction, not a symbolic image at all, but I think it expresses something about the complexity and beauty of the person it adorns, something a symbol, with all its cultural baggage, never could.

2009/03/17

Sinew

Filed under: Body Art — Tags: , , — fred @ 20:02
Sinew 16

Sinew 16, 1992, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

One of my reasons for starting this blog was to give a new life to some work from my extensive and diverse back catalog.  So let’s get started.

In the early 90’s I was working towards a fresh approach in my art.  I’d done abstract painting, figurative drawing, experimental film, and performance art.  To me it was all just my artwork, but others saw these as completely separate fields.  I was looking for ways to integrate all of it.  Thematically, the art that inspired me was mostly either religious art or erotic art, or the art associated with magical philosophies like alchemy or tantra.  I wanted to integrate the subject matter as well.  Since the late 1980’s I’d been experimenting with approaches to art associated with prehistoric and “primitive” cultures, as these seemed to reflect a conception of artistic creation as a central experience in a unified magical world-view.

In 1989 I attended an all-night experiential performance piece called Journey to Lila by famed Bay Area provocateur Frank Moore, at Franklin Furnace in New York.  I’ll save a fuller description of that night for another post, but the essential is that it was not so much a “performance” as most of us would imagine it, but an initiatory journey, in which the audience was gently but persistently opened to new and mind-liberating experiences.  Frank’s work showed me that, even in the modern world, magical transformation could be the method, not just the subject matter, of art.

I had previously played a little with body painting, but now I was inspired to develop it as an art form.  I started asking people I knew if they wanted to get painted.  One of the early volunteers, seen in these pictures from January, 1992, was my friend Ed.

Sinew 17, 1992. Bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt.

Sinew 17, 1992, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

In those days I was using liquid tempera poster paint.  It’s very cheap and non-toxic.  The experience of being painted with it is slimy, cold wetness, followed, as it dries and flakes, by a tight, scaly and itchy sensation all over the skin.  It isn’t exactly pleasurable, but it proved to be effective in inspiring those who experienced it to feel thoroughly transformed.

Sinew 18, 1992.  Bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt.

Sinew 18, 1992, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

The backdrop was a roll of white seamless paper I’d previously used as a dropcloth for earlier bodypainting sessions.  The vertical part of the seamless had been painted by Jen, another artist friend and bodypaint participant, with the same tempera poster paint we used on the bodies.

I never designed or preconceived these paintings.  They were just spontaneous happenings.  But painting on someone is a collaborative process that is unavoidably affected by the quality of the moment and the interaction of painter and paintee.  The brush flows around the hills and valleys of the body, and thus something emerges that reveals both form and underlying energy.

Sinew 23, 1992.  Bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt.

Sinew 23, 1992, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Sinew 26, 1992. Body paint and photo by Fred Hatt.

Sinew 26, 1992, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Bodypainting took on a life of its own for me.  Whenever I would show this work (in the 90’s it was usually as a slide show), someone would come up to me and volunteer to be painted.  So of course this became a major part of my work and grew many unforeseen branches over the years.

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