Cornelia Selover
Artist's Statements
Embracing the unexplainable bigness of things.
Portrait, landscape, abstract: it's all the same to me.
The observational skills learned in life drawing are exactly the same as those I use in abstract work. In the years I have spent drawing from life I have learned, through self-discipline and hours of practice, to draw what I see.
What does this mean?
It means that while through study of anatomy and the practice of life drawing I understand the form and structure of my subject,
I put that consciousness aside when I draw. The consciousness is the underpinning of accurate observation, but only that. The eye must see only shapes and record ONLY what it sees, and this takes discipline as often light, foreshortening or fear of failure dominate, and the brain interferes to override the eye, constantly striving to have things be as it ALREADY knows.
It is then that I must record only what I see before me, now, in this light.
Record the shape, that's it.
Colour is the emotion attached to the shape, the character of the subject or the story being told.
In abstract work the same principle applies, although because it's not attached to a recognisable form (i.e. a face) it is a more subtle driver. I set rules that in following create shapes, allowing whatever emerges to be so. If I were to succumb to fear and chase a certain shape then I will only repeat what I know (or an outcome I seek) and the work will become second rate.
I find this practice parallels the living of life - it's patterns, pains, joy and boredom; all work describes life and the unexplainable bigness of things.
Cornelia Selover, July 10, 2017
Portrait, landscape, abstract: it's all the same to me.
The observational skills learned in life drawing are exactly the same as those I use in abstract work. In the years I have spent drawing from life I have learned, through self-discipline and hours of practice, to draw what I see.
What does this mean?
It means that while through study of anatomy and the practice of life drawing I understand the form and structure of my subject,
I put that consciousness aside when I draw. The consciousness is the underpinning of accurate observation, but only that. The eye must see only shapes and record ONLY what it sees, and this takes discipline as often light, foreshortening or fear of failure dominate, and the brain interferes to override the eye, constantly striving to have things be as it ALREADY knows.
It is then that I must record only what I see before me, now, in this light.
Record the shape, that's it.
Colour is the emotion attached to the shape, the character of the subject or the story being told.
In abstract work the same principle applies, although because it's not attached to a recognisable form (i.e. a face) it is a more subtle driver. I set rules that in following create shapes, allowing whatever emerges to be so. If I were to succumb to fear and chase a certain shape then I will only repeat what I know (or an outcome I seek) and the work will become second rate.
I find this practice parallels the living of life - it's patterns, pains, joy and boredom; all work describes life and the unexplainable bigness of things.
Cornelia Selover, July 10, 2017
After returning to Australia in 2013 and buying a home and studio, I had a nervous breakdown and was hospitalised with PTSD from the Black Saturday Bushfires.
I had battled thoughts of suicide, and making art helped me survive, moment to moment, day to day. I had physically survived the fires and their aftermath, but eventually the psychological impact could not be ignored. Art was, and remains, my number one strategy for processing trauma and weaving a path to recovery.
The 'I Wish You Were Dead' series comprises over six hundred drawings, the making of which provided a vital coping strategy for me through a period of depression and anxiety resulting from the trauma of the fires. The title of this series of works 'I Wish You Were Dead', refers to my wish to be rid of this intensely negative experience. My art practice is still a vital way that I connect with myself and manage my mental health.
Over time, my working method became increasingly formalised and disciplined, as my process became governed by self-imposed rules. For example, the lines cannot cross paths. The drawings start from a single point marked with a dot within a circle. The lines must then be drawn without crossing until the whole page is filled with the desired structure.
The repetitive practice of drawing the lines is soothing and immersive, and I work for up to eight hours at a time. Making these works was a way to cope with depression and to avoid suicidal thoughts. Negative space, or clear spaces, in the works are significant as they represent an unblocked path or conduit through which to move forward. Also to find beauty, therefore hope. Life.
The quality, structure and direction of the lines represent events, people, interactions, complications or interruptions that have occurred in my life. Their density and connectivity are symbolic of my life experiences.
These days I find peace in the act repetition and beauty in the shapes and colour, and while I am often referring to transformation in the structure of the work the act of creating each piece is itself transformative.
Works from the 'I Wish You Were Dead' series are held in the permanent collection at the Dax Museum, Melbourne University
Cornelia Selover
8 August 2016
I had battled thoughts of suicide, and making art helped me survive, moment to moment, day to day. I had physically survived the fires and their aftermath, but eventually the psychological impact could not be ignored. Art was, and remains, my number one strategy for processing trauma and weaving a path to recovery.
The 'I Wish You Were Dead' series comprises over six hundred drawings, the making of which provided a vital coping strategy for me through a period of depression and anxiety resulting from the trauma of the fires. The title of this series of works 'I Wish You Were Dead', refers to my wish to be rid of this intensely negative experience. My art practice is still a vital way that I connect with myself and manage my mental health.
Over time, my working method became increasingly formalised and disciplined, as my process became governed by self-imposed rules. For example, the lines cannot cross paths. The drawings start from a single point marked with a dot within a circle. The lines must then be drawn without crossing until the whole page is filled with the desired structure.
The repetitive practice of drawing the lines is soothing and immersive, and I work for up to eight hours at a time. Making these works was a way to cope with depression and to avoid suicidal thoughts. Negative space, or clear spaces, in the works are significant as they represent an unblocked path or conduit through which to move forward. Also to find beauty, therefore hope. Life.
The quality, structure and direction of the lines represent events, people, interactions, complications or interruptions that have occurred in my life. Their density and connectivity are symbolic of my life experiences.
These days I find peace in the act repetition and beauty in the shapes and colour, and while I am often referring to transformation in the structure of the work the act of creating each piece is itself transformative.
Works from the 'I Wish You Were Dead' series are held in the permanent collection at the Dax Museum, Melbourne University
Cornelia Selover
8 August 2016
