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Onya McCausland 'Landscapes' - Online Exhibition Catalogue

Catalogue for the exhibition 'Landscapes' by Onya McCausland at Anima-Mundi, St Ives

Catalogue for the exhibition 'Landscapes' by Onya McCausland at Anima-Mundi, St Ives

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L A N D S C A P E S<br />

A N D S C<br />

A P E S


ONYA MCCAUSLAND<br />

MCCAUSLAND


1


LANDSCAPES<br />

(From Coal Mine Waste to Landscape Painting)<br />

These landscapes / paintings are made using<br />

ochre or iron oxide pigments that form as waste<br />

during the treatment of mine water in coal mining<br />

regions across the UK. Their names: Cuthill in West<br />

Lothian, Scotland; Deerplay Hill in Bacup, Lancashire;<br />

Saltburn in East Yorkshire and Tan-y-Garn in South<br />

Wales,, acknowledge the origins and complexities<br />

of the ochres’ formation, and link the great coal<br />

mining regions of the UK’s industrial past with the<br />

formation of contemporary colour. The individual<br />

colours of the landscapes are determined by the<br />

unique conditions of their geological context by<br />

responding and behaving in different ways to<br />

processes in the studio. Each material dictates its<br />

own idiosyncratic form of representation - individual<br />

paintings recall their landscape origins, embodying a<br />

memory of place. Individual works involve, evolve<br />

and invoke the physicality of material process more<br />

explicitly. The personality of the material is revealed<br />

through its formation: these paintings follow the<br />

materials’ urge, its sensuality, implicating natural<br />

forces of fluidity, skin, surface and viscera.<br />

The landscape sites and paintings are not only about<br />

the discovery and utility of a new colour material, the<br />

paintings here also deal with different formal concerns<br />

around ways of seeing within the concept /“confines”<br />

of landscape painting; they propose alternative ways of<br />

perceiving and conceiving landscape and its uses, by<br />

voicing the materiality of place in ways that overlap, or<br />

conflate geological and human time frames.Traditional<br />

devises, or ‘tropes’ of landscape painting are exploited,<br />

pointing to and describing surface and depth. These<br />

perspectival orientations and formal organisations of<br />

surface historically have been used as a means of<br />

placing/displacing, separaing/folding, of suggesting<br />

proximity and distance.<br />

The space and spacial relationships in particular works<br />

define and undermine stable placement or positioning<br />

2


of where we are. Some works like Deerplay Hill,<br />

describe the surface as a topography - from the Greek<br />

topographia, from topos ‘place’ and graphia; to write.<br />

A landscape, of moorland, mountain and bog, seen and<br />

experienced from the ground (both the “ground” of the<br />

painting and the earth) is also one seen close up. The<br />

surface of a painting is not only optical but tactile,<br />

sensual, physical, animal like, material.<br />

The physicality of the paintings run parallel and equal<br />

to their opticality. The depth, opacity, transparency of<br />

individual colours are reflected in the landscapes they<br />

belong to : Saltburn ochre is derived from mines in<br />

the North East coast just south of Middlesborough<br />

where the sharp bright light, refracted off the<br />

North sea has a flattening effect on the surrounding<br />

landscape. The Deep mines, run under the sea creating an<br />

oppositional pull between surface and depth, cerebral<br />

and psyche, light ness and dark. This is accentuated by the<br />

methods of seeing the sites from Google earth and as the<br />

paintings are inextricably linked to the mine water<br />

treatment sites where the colours are forming - the sites<br />

(photographed from Google Earth) are also conceived of<br />

as landscape paintings.<br />

Cuthill works concern themselves also with the<br />

process of material formations with the hand/ without<br />

the hand - material as it forms in the landscape and in the<br />

studio : matter subjected to the action of its own<br />

physical properties where the optical develops with the<br />

material in the making - material follows physical laws -<br />

gravity, motion, viscosity, pressure and temperature - the<br />

same physical laws that cause sand dunes, land slides,<br />

sediments and mountains to form. The colour Tan-y-Garn<br />

is heavy and blood-like - haema or haima, as in haematite,<br />

which means blood, as if it comes from an ancient place<br />

resonant with the human body, fluidly, water flow,<br />

viscosity and sensuality“ the mud, the blood and the<br />

beer” echoing the landscape. There is resemblance - in<br />

the medieval sense that like things are reflected in<br />

each other.<br />

These paintings here are just a stage in processes<br />

of material transformation or a meeting point of<br />

converging processes - from mine water minerals<br />

oxidising and participating in the formation of landscape,<br />

to becoming ochre and in turn to becoming landscapes<br />

hanging on the walls of the gallery: They can be seen as<br />

a redefinition of sorts of landscape painting... exploring<br />

an examination of materials from different perspectives,<br />

view points and across various scales.<br />

The material is a starting point for the paintings, the<br />

paintings a temporary representational interpretation<br />

culminating in the synthesis of geological formation<br />

and human intervention. The works - the paintings and<br />

the sites - can be seen as a performance of change<br />

where the connections between physical processes and<br />

human actions cannot be separated. These landscapes<br />

made from this distinct material are part of the lineage<br />

of human activities and cultural practices that stretch<br />

back to the beginning of human history. Cave painting,<br />

ancient burials, mining, waste and landscape painting. And<br />

colour, the process of making ochre that the mine water<br />

treatment sites perform is historically unique, and<br />

the material that the sites harnesses is an important<br />

cultural signifier.<br />

Each landscape site produces a different coloured ochre<br />

that is mineralogically unique to that place, to that mine,<br />

to that geography: the colour and the painting converge,<br />

they signify and embody Place - identity, belonging,<br />

history, community, the economy and the contemporary<br />

economics of waste.<br />

<strong>Onya</strong> <strong>McCausland</strong>, 2018<br />

3


VISIONS OF EXCESS<br />

Type the coordinates 54°34 07.37 N 0°57 42.87 into<br />

google earth and you will dive down into a pool of red:<br />

‘Saltburn Mine Water Treatment scheme’. I say dive into,<br />

however this virtual free fall halts just before you reach<br />

ground level; a jittering curser hovering directly above.<br />

From this aerial perspective the landscape is levelled<br />

out. Conventional sight lines are rearranged, with the<br />

horizons lumps airbrushed and flattened. Saltburn’s Mine<br />

Water Treatment pools lose their rippling variation and<br />

the distinct areas of colour are isolated, as if neatly fitting<br />

into a hardware store wall paint colour chart. A hardware<br />

aesthetic created by a piece of computer software. It is as<br />

Italo Calvino said; ‘software cannot exercise its powers of<br />

lightness except through the weight of hardware. But it is<br />

the software that gives the orders […] The iron machines<br />

still exist, but they obey the orders of weightless bits’.<br />

These google map screenshots expose their digital<br />

creator; the treatment sites in their rigid geometry<br />

have the inhuman appearance of computer integrated<br />

circuit chips.<br />

Perhaps the treatment site itself is still something<br />

of Calvino’s ‘iron machine’, obeying the demands of<br />

almost weightless particles (a mineralisation process<br />

unlocks pyrite which is then oxidised into the insoluble<br />

ferric form and precipitates particles of ochre<br />

pigment). This dynamic eco system is not evident from<br />

the static monochrome found on google earth. Whilst the<br />

dizzying descent into coordinates gives the impression<br />

of rattling through the macro to access the micro it is<br />

ultimately disappointing. We remain so far away,<br />

suspended in this unnatural aerial vacuum there are no<br />

faithful timekeepers; not the drum beat in my chest,<br />

nor the lilt and sway of breath, no august chorus<br />

of insect chatter clicking in the clammy night. These<br />

natural rhythms are autotuned to obey the same<br />

frequency, so we access digitals images without presence.<br />

We see monochromes without organs.<br />

The map is not the territory, nor is it a simple ‘birds eye<br />

view’. With new features like ‘angled’ and ‘street’ views<br />

multiple perspectives are amalgamated to produce a<br />

multifocal image. Where are we experiencing this from?<br />

Where is our place in this landscape? The nature of our<br />

human experience is our inability to master all fields<br />

of vision. Phenomenology, the study of consciousness<br />

experienced from the first-person point of view,<br />

understands totalising accounts to be impossible. Our<br />

perception is constrained by what is in front or behind,<br />

above or below, only rectified by physically changing<br />

position. Maurice Merleau-Ponty argued that ‘experience<br />

is [...] lived by me from a certain point of view; I am not<br />

the spectator, I am involved’.<br />

<strong>McCausland</strong> does not halt at surface, rather she plunges<br />

into the depths of terrain entering into a dialogue with<br />

that which the earth provides.<br />

The titles of her works reflect this engagement that<br />

occurs both above and beneath ground. ‘Cuthill’<br />

references the depth of the mine, using the<br />

vertical reference system: Ordinance Datum Newlyn -<br />

which establishes a reliable bench mark measurement<br />

system underground whilst The Google Earth images by<br />

contrast are titled according to the distance from above<br />

the ground. Passing through the earth’s membrane she<br />

facilitates an interplay between above and beneath,<br />

light and shade. Not only does <strong>McCausland</strong>’s practice<br />

re-orientate the physical axis of our engagement with<br />

landscape. She scrutinises our conceptual axis with<br />

regard to how we approach and understand ‘waste’.<br />

<strong>McCausland</strong>’s colour is the waste product of a<br />

decanting process. ‘Waste’ is often considered<br />

contaminated or hybridised and, if no adequate<br />

nutrient retrieval systems exist, then its use value is<br />

voided. In 2014, between 4 and 5 thousand tons of<br />

ochre were being sent to landfill every year because an<br />

economically viable use could not be found and<br />

landfill was the cheapest option. By reusing this<br />

otherwise redundant material in her work <strong>McCausland</strong><br />

has demonstrated the uniqueness and cultural value of<br />

these colours and their landscape contexts. Her practice<br />

re-energises the discarded matter bestowing it with new<br />

life-force as artists’ pigment. There is no useless matter. if<br />

something seems useless, we should not discard the thing<br />

4


itself but reassess the frame in which we have trapped it.<br />

These muddy pools are rather fonts abundant with blood<br />

red pigment.<br />

<strong>McCausland</strong>’s recognition of the potential of the<br />

overlooked is embodied by Baudelaire’s rag picker who<br />

‘in the muddy maze of some old neighbourhood, Often,<br />

where the street lamp gleams like blood’ catalogues and<br />

collates the annals of intemperance. In this figure the<br />

locating and repurposing of foraged scraps becomes<br />

an extended metaphor for the poetic method. Both<br />

ragman and poet are concerned with the disregarded<br />

and refused. The ragman found an accomplice in the<br />

Avant Garde artist of the 20th century. From Dada<br />

Collages to Rauschenberg’s accumulation, artists used the<br />

flatbed picture plane as an adhesive surface upon which<br />

all manner of residue could gather. The act of retrieval<br />

and assemblage, rather than composition of painting<br />

proper, results in an openness, a negation of ego in favour<br />

of object agency. These practices did not turn their back<br />

on the world but were occupied by it. When Picasso<br />

made his collages, he said he wanted the real offal of<br />

human life, the dirty, poor and despised. These moves<br />

motivated by the desire to muddy the sheen of the<br />

commodity and circumvent the economy of the art<br />

market reached parodic status when Piero Manzoni<br />

canned his own shit and sold on par with the value<br />

of gold. This act epitomises Freud’s belief that<br />

artworks always have an overdetermined relationship to<br />

faeces. But so do all systems, be them bodily, aesthetic,<br />

economic. Everything participates in the impulsive and<br />

uncontrollable drives of ingestion and excretion. I note<br />

we began this essay soaring above, trapped in a slick<br />

sealed computer programme, we have now plunged into<br />

the base, where all is soiled and pigment is belched out<br />

of the belly of the earth.<br />

<strong>McCausland</strong>’s recognition of the interrelation between<br />

waste matter and art matter follows in the footsteps<br />

of Baudelaire’s’ ragman and Manzoni’s Freudian jester<br />

persona. But it also follows the economic theories of<br />

Bataille for whom the output of one system served as<br />

input for another system. Whilst the treatment sites<br />

attempt to control and contain the ‘waste’ material,<br />

its life does not end there. it is as Bataille said; ‘rather<br />

than the excretion of the foreign body removing the<br />

foreign body it actually liberates it, and liberates it to a<br />

heterogeneity that is out of control’. Sensitivity to<br />

matter’s vibrant potential facilitates transference from<br />

one perspective to another. The waste is energised<br />

as the fuel for a business endeavour; as commercially<br />

available pigment. The landscape is ecologically and<br />

economically fertile; producing ochre, generating an<br />

income for the local econmy and creating high-quality<br />

pigment for artists. Nietzsche commented; ‘the world<br />

exists - it is not something that becomes, not something<br />

that passes away, or rather, it becomes, it passes away,<br />

but it has never begun to become and never ceases from<br />

passing away – it maintains itself in both – it lives on itself;<br />

its excrements are its food’.<br />

The artists’ picture plane is emblematic of the porosity<br />

between ingestion and excretion. When applying the<br />

pigment <strong>McCausland</strong> notes how when the second wet c<br />

oat met with the first dry coat it was immediately sucked<br />

into the dry ochre, like parched soil that gulps down fresh<br />

water. Colour consumes colour, allowing it to become<br />

healthy and ‘full bodied’ in tone. Colour also absorbs<br />

light and alters accordingly; expanding and contracting its<br />

mass, weight and volume.<br />

Each pigment has distinct behavioural properties just<br />

as each mine site has its own method of water<br />

treatment, its own lexicon, creating an entirely unique<br />

ochre pigment. ‘Tan-y-garn’ site uses limestone and<br />

mushroom compost to reduce the acidity of the water<br />

and make a full bodied reddish brown. At ‘Saltburn’,<br />

the water from an iron stone mine becomes a light<br />

yellow ochre. Even within one pigment there are multiple<br />

potentialities, it can be a milky tangerine when raw and a<br />

dense syrupy russet when cooked. The capacity to receive<br />

and repel colour and light alters depending on whether the<br />

pigment is wet or dry, raw or cooked. <strong>Onya</strong> has titled some<br />

works with reference to the cooking process; ‘Iron oxide<br />

pigment from Cuthill Mine Water Treatment Scheme<br />

(2016) burnt at 600° mixed in oil on gessoed canvas’.<br />

5


This is a quantitative title that entails qualitative<br />

engagements with surface and ground.<br />

The passage from raw to cooked is found in most mythic<br />

narratives and is commonly emblematic of the passage<br />

from death to life. At the Palaeolithic Terra Amata<br />

site in Nice, archaeologists retrieved 75 ochre pieces /<br />

ranging in shades from yellow to red and red-brown,<br />

with many intermediate and irregular ones attributable<br />

to different thermal influences. It is understood that the<br />

transformation of yellow stone into red was interpreted<br />

by the Early Acheulian hunter-gatherers as a magic, life<br />

affirming process. Through the addition of heat a sickly<br />

yellow stone could be revived and made bulbous with<br />

red blood. Ochre is used in the mortuary rituals of<br />

many Mousterian sites, Palaeo-Indians and Late Archaic<br />

populations in North America where red pigment would<br />

be smothered on the flesh of the dead or placed in bowls<br />

beside the body. These practices recall the Maori legend<br />

of a woman who, in the nether world, came upon a bowl<br />

of ochre, she ingested the colour and was returned to<br />

life. These burial practices coat the skin with pigment<br />

enabling the pores to ‘ingest’ the substance with hope<br />

that the body is sustained beyond the grave. <strong>McCausland</strong><br />

feeds surfaces with ochre, and as the canvas consumes<br />

the colour it gains more agency. This is nowhere more<br />

apparent than in ‘Cuthill watercolour (drop)’.<br />

Experimenting with how the pigment responds to<br />

contact with different surfaces <strong>McCausland</strong> placed paper<br />

in a horizontal water tank and poured the pigment on<br />

top. Left overnight in the dark, the ochre blindly feels its<br />

way toward the bottom of the container and joins with<br />

the paper. Interestingly its fall forms softly curving hills of<br />

dusty red; recalling the shape of the land from which it<br />

was born (we are forever on our way home)<br />

The ochre forms on paper also recall the derelict heaps<br />

of red shale known as John Latham’s ‘bings’. In 1975,<br />

the Scottish Development agency contacted artist John<br />

Latham for an urban renewal project. Concerned that<br />

these heaps of burnt and oxidised oil shale constituted an<br />

‘eyesore’ in the landscape what was really required was a<br />

new outlook. Let us recall; If something seems useless we<br />

should not discard the thing itself but reassess the frame<br />

in which we have trapped it. Latham re-conceptualised<br />

the mounds of waste as ‘process sculptures’. They were<br />

named as landmarks and with that given a new identity<br />

and impetus. In Room 2, <strong>McCausland</strong> provides a map<br />

that shows the seams of coal mines, and four shards of<br />

shale from one of Latham’s bings, weigh down the map’s<br />

four corners.<br />

Following Latham’s approach, <strong>McCausland</strong> is<br />

campaigning for the mine water treatment sites<br />

themselves be renamed as monuments. This move to<br />

name the sites does not untether the perspective I<br />

have been weaving (for this perspective is something<br />

of an ever cycling mobeius loop). I have so far stressed<br />

how <strong>McCausland</strong> relinquishes the role of artist as<br />

someone who controls and contains colour to adopt<br />

the role of gleaner who liberates the voice of the<br />

discarded. Consequently, the idea ‘trademarking’ may<br />

seem the antithesis of a sensitive approach. Sticking<br />

words to things always entails some form of capture. but<br />

<strong>McCausland</strong>’s naming follows the sympathetic leanings of<br />

Walt Whitman who was so attuned to the murmurings<br />

of matter that his poetry is a seismograph of its song. His<br />

elemental words, as he defined them, do not overwrite<br />

but ‘accord’ with the earth, and ‘are in the air, they are<br />

in you’. Pregnant with multiple temporalities, words are<br />

not static in definition and fixed to the page but are<br />

‘lispings of the future’. Again returning to the notion<br />

of the passage from raw to cooked, Whitman’s song of<br />

the rolling earth proclaims ‘amelioration is the blood<br />

that runs through the body of the universe’. As in Early<br />

Acheulian ritual where burnt ochre was saturated with<br />

this vital red life force, Whitman’s poetic form warms<br />

words until they throb with energy. Words, like the<br />

earth, possess something underneath, that something is<br />

meaning and that something is colour. <strong>McCausland</strong><br />

taps into Whitman’s seismograph. Rather than<br />

hybridising and contaminating the colour with metaphor<br />

she amplifies what has been silenced. Naming the colour<br />

as it obdurately exists in its environment. Mary Douglas<br />

6


wrote how dirt is not dangerous so long as it without a<br />

name. In naming the pigment after the site <strong>McCausland</strong><br />

unleashes its vibrant agency. Much like the methods of<br />

Manzoni, Picasso and Rauschenberg; the refuse is realised.<br />

Through the act of naming, landscape is socially and<br />

historically experienced; it becomes a collective event.<br />

The experience of viewing these works within the<br />

gallery setting is also a collective event where we are in<br />

dialogue with space, colour, time, light, one another, etc.<br />

The structure of the architecture entails each gallery<br />

space be stacked vertically, creating a kind of geological<br />

strata in which the works, like worms, can create their<br />

own environment. The viewer journeys through lightness<br />

and darkness, penetrating each zone and consequently<br />

becoming aware of a distinct materiality of the space.<br />

Whilst each room draws attention to a different Mine<br />

Water Treatment scheme and thus a different pigment,<br />

there is a binding relationship between them. The layout<br />

of the exhibition behaves much like the systems I have<br />

outlined. <strong>McCausland</strong>’s project recognises that nothing<br />

can be understood in isolation; waste is in a dialectical<br />

relationship with wealth, just as there is porosity between<br />

raw and cooked. Rather than a hierarchical linear<br />

narrative, everything participates in a cyclical system.<br />

It makes sense then that none of <strong>McCausland</strong>’s work<br />

exists as a singularity but is extended and environmental,<br />

operating in part to whole relations. One plane is but the<br />

crop of a harvest of pigment. A horizon line is but a bend in a<br />

vertical. A straight line the fragment of a curve. Upon<br />

viewing, we too must be the ragman, the archaeologist,<br />

gleaning and excavating the matter before us to piece<br />

together a whole of ecological influx and efflux.<br />

Standing before <strong>McCausland</strong>’s works, time is not a<br />

container but a component, where all is in process, all is<br />

in song. Walt Whitman extolled ‘the masters know the<br />

earth’s words and use them more than audible words’.<br />

<strong>McCausland</strong> is exploring the earth’s vocabulary.<br />

Isabelle Bucklow, 2018


DEERPLAY HILL<br />

Deerplay Hill, Bacup, Lancashire<br />

The Mine Water Treatment Site at Deerplay Hill sits high up on Todmorden Moor - the source of the river Calder in<br />

the Lancashire Pennines - overlooking the wind farms that have sprung up in recent years. The landscape is formed<br />

of shale, mudstone, sandstones and gritstones, the ground is a thick layer of hill peat covered in scrub grasses and<br />

heather. The peat minerals in the ground influence the colour leaching from the old mines which appears dark<br />

brownish orange in the landscape. When the ochre has been dried and ground and painted in a transparent medium<br />

like watercolour it reveals a wider register of colour from dark charred brown with a tinge of purple, through to a<br />

golden-orange undertone.<br />

The relatively small scale of the mine workings in this region, which mainly closed around the 1960’s, are a<br />

reflection of the geological fracturing of the coal fields caused by fault lines cutting up and displacing the coal field.<br />

Saltburn Site 54°34 07.37 N 0°57 42.87 W: 1130m Mine Water Treatment Scheme<br />

GPS photograph, Somerset archival paper, wood plinth<br />

dimensions TBC<br />

edition of 5


Deerplay Hill<br />

Deerplay ochre in oil on canvas<br />

150 x 180 cm<br />

10


11


Deerplay Hill<br />

Deerplay ochre in oil on canvas<br />

40 x 45 cm<br />

12


Deerplay Hill<br />

Deerplay ochre in oil on canvas<br />

40 x 45 cm<br />

13


Deerplay Hill<br />

Deerplay ochre in oil on canvas<br />

40 x 45 cm<br />

14


Deerplay Hill<br />

Deerplay ochre in oil on canvas<br />

40 x 45 cm<br />

15


Deerplay Hill<br />

Deerplay ochre in oil on canvas<br />

40 x 45 cm<br />

16


Deerplay Hill<br />

Deerplay ochre in oil on canvas<br />

40 x 45 cm<br />

17


Deerplay Hill<br />

Deerplay ochre in oil on canvas<br />

40 x 45 cm<br />

18


Deerplay Hill<br />

Deerplay ochre in oil on canvas<br />

40 x 45 cm<br />

19


Deerplay Hill<br />

Deerplay ochre in oil on canvas<br />

150 x 180 cm<br />

20


21


Deerplay Hill Wall Painting<br />

Deerplay ochre emulsion on wall<br />

dimensions variable<br />

22


19


CUTHILL<br />

Cuthill, West Lothian, Scotland<br />

The Mine Water Treatment Scheme built in 2003 sits beside the river Almond near Addiewell village<br />

in West Lothian, Scotland. The coal mines were worked here until the early 1960’s. The coal provided<br />

fuel for the giant furnaces used for extracting oil from shale in Scotlands first oil industry. Cuthill Mine<br />

Water Treatment Scheme is a few fields away from one of the slag heaps or ‘bings’ that mark the landscape<br />

of West Lothian; Five Sisters Bing was designated an artwork by John Latham in 1976, and has<br />

since become an internationally recognised monument. The scheme at Cuthill performs the function of<br />

cleaning the polluting mine water that inadvertently produces many tones of waste ochre every year.<br />

Burning ochre at around 600 degrees will cause it to dehydrate, turning the yellow ochre material red. The ochre<br />

from Cuthill is distinguished by the subtle pinkish tone it creates when burnt, a colour that resembles the burnt<br />

fragments of waste shale that form the structures of the ‘bings’.<br />

Cuthill Mine No.24 Abandonment Plan<br />

cat no. S411 with oil shale rocks<br />

dimensions TBC


Cuthill Red / -1325 Ordinance Datum Newlyn<br />

iron oxide pigment from Cuthill Mine Water Treatment Scheme burnt at 600° in oil on gessoed canvas<br />

50 x 50 cm<br />

26


27


Cuthill Red / -1325 Ordinance Datum Newlyn<br />

iron oxide pigment from Cuthill Mine Water Treatment Scheme burnt at 600° in oil on gessoed canvas<br />

100 x 100 cm<br />

28


29


Cuthill Red / -1325 Ordinance Datum Newlyn<br />

iron oxide pigment from Cuthill Mine Water Treatment Scheme burnt at 600° in oil on gessoed canvas<br />

100 x 100 cm<br />

30


31


Cuthill Raw (River)<br />

ochre pigment and watercolour medium on paper<br />

56 x 76 cm<br />

32


Cuthill Raw (Sag)<br />

ochre pigment and watercolour medium on paper<br />

56 x 76 cm<br />

33


Cuthill Raw<br />

ochre pigment and watercolour medium on paper<br />

56 x 76 cm<br />

34


Cuthill Raw (Drop)<br />

ochre pigment and watercolour medium on paper<br />

56 x 76 cm<br />

35


SALTBURN<br />

Saltburn, Cleveland<br />

South of Middlesborough on the north east coast of England is Saltburn-by-Sea. A mile or so inland is<br />

Saltburn Mine Water Treatment Scheme. The site treats the floodwater of an iron stone mine that closed<br />

in the 1960’s. Like the surrounding landscape, illuminated by the glare of reflected light off the north sea,<br />

Saltburn yellow ochre is lighter in tone than the other mine water ochres. The paint on the wall is an<br />

ultra matt emulsion that resembles the material in its raw pigment state, it has no additional binders or<br />

enhancers other than an organic cellulose medium. This flat matt surface conceals an unexpected<br />

brightness and warmth visible when the colour is expressed in a transparent medium like watercolour.<br />

Saltburn is in one of the few mining regions that remains active. A thousand meters under the North Sea is Boubly<br />

potash mine, one of the deepest in Europe. An environment so remote that it doubles as a deep underground<br />

laboratory suitable for hosting ultra-low background science projects, like the search for dark matter.<br />

Deerplay Site 53°44 07.95 N 2°12 10.84 W. 1460m Mine Water Treatment Scheme<br />

GPS photograph, Somerset archival paper, wood<br />

56.5 x 33 x 5 cm<br />

edition of 5


Saltburn Main / -357 Ordinance Datum Newlyn<br />

Saltburn ochre in oil on canvas<br />

167 x 137 cm<br />

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39


Saltburn Main / -357 Ordinance Datum Newlyn<br />

Saltburn ochre in oil on canvas<br />

46 x 56 cm<br />

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41


Saltburn Main / -357 Ordinance Datum Newlyn<br />

Saltburn ochre in oil on canvas<br />

46 x 56 cm<br />

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Saltburn Main<br />

Saltburn ochre emulsion on wall<br />

dimensions variable<br />

44


TAN-Y-GARN<br />

Tan-Y-Garn (Under the Mountain), South Wales<br />

Tan-y-Garn is more remote than the other sites, surrounded by trees, tucked into the side of a high valley in<br />

South West Wales. The deep orange ochre that forms here begins as rain water percolating through the rocks,<br />

finding routes through the cracks and fissures of the former mine workings absorbing minerals on the way.<br />

Eventually the mineral rich water leaches out from the mine adit at the base of the mountain, oxidising and<br />

gaining its colour.<br />

The water treatment process uses limestone and mushroom compost to reduce the acidity of the mine water.<br />

The limestone raises the pH which helps iron oxidation and the mushroom compost supports bacterial processes<br />

causing anaerobic conditions that prevent the limestone becoming clogged.<br />

Tan-y-Garn it is a deep red brown. When suspended in water different colours are visible as the pigment particle<br />

sizes vary. It moves between bright orange through to deep purple with a blood like brownish red that dominates<br />

the final colour.<br />

The mine here was worked until the early 1990’s, supplying fuel for the Port Talbot Steel works.<br />

Tan-y-Garn Mine Water Treatment Scheme, from Google Earth


Red Lady, Tan-y-Garn<br />

Tan-y-Garn ochre watercolour on paper<br />

150 x 120 cm<br />

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Red Lady, Tan-y-Garn<br />

Tan-y-Garn ochre watercolour on paper<br />

35 x 25 cm<br />

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Red Lady, Tan-y-Garn<br />

Tan-y-Garn ochre watercolour on paper<br />

56 x 76 cm<br />

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46


<strong>Onya</strong> <strong>McCausland</strong> is a British artist born in Zennor,<br />

Cornwall in 1971. She currently lives and works<br />

in London.<br />

<strong>McCausland</strong>’s practice consists of minimalist paintings,<br />

murals, installation and land art. Her work is concerned<br />

with how specific materials and processes can be used<br />

as a conduit to open up interconnected underlying<br />

ideas that draw upon the changing economic and<br />

environmental conditions underway in the<br />

contemporary landscape. This is expressed in a<br />

current body of work that examines new uses for waste<br />

materials found in ex-coal mining regions across<br />

the UK.<br />

<strong>McCausland</strong> is collaborating with the Coal Authority and<br />

UCL to generate new uses for mine water waste ‘ochres’<br />

as usable coloured pigment for paint. Her research<br />

repositions this ‘waste’ ochre as significant cultural<br />

material that can be used to change perceptions of<br />

post-industrial landscape sites.<br />

In 2014, between 4 and 5 thousand tones of ochre<br />

were being sent to landfill every year because an<br />

economically viable use could not be found and landfill<br />

was the cheapest option. By reusing this otherwise<br />

redundant material in her work <strong>McCausland</strong> has<br />

demonstrated the uniqueness and cultural value of<br />

these colours and their landscape contexts.<br />

The landscapes are perceived through the vehicle of<br />

the earth materials forming at their site. The medium<br />

of painting is used in its widest sense, drawing on the<br />

history of minimalist and post-minimalist aesthetics,<br />

and landart to examine the proximities between the<br />

idea of ‘ground’ and surface, where surface is used to<br />

join geographic, geological and painterly realms.<br />

In collaboration with the Coal Authority, <strong>McCausland</strong><br />

is working to designate five selected Mine Water<br />

Treatment Schemes as living paintings that perform<br />

the production of ochre, while generating an income<br />

for the local economy and producing high-quality<br />

pigment for artists.<br />

<strong>McCausland</strong> is currently working as a Leverhulme<br />

Early Career Researcher based at the Slade School of<br />

Fine Art, University College London working on her<br />

project : “From Coal Mine Waste to Landscape<br />

Painting - New British Earths” Recent exhibitions have<br />

been supported by Camden Arts Centre on<br />

London, Newlyn Art Gallery in Cornwall,<br />

Kettle’s Yard in Cambridge and the Delfina<br />

Foundation in London. She was also<br />

supported by the Forest of Dean Sculpture Trust and has<br />

received funding from the Arts Council, British Council.<br />

the Arts and Humanities Research Council. She has also<br />

been shortlisted for the prestigious Wollaston Award<br />

at the Royal Academy and the John Moores Painting<br />

Prize. She has exhibited her work internationally and has<br />

work in numerous private and public collections. <strong>Onya</strong><br />

<strong>McCausland</strong> is represented by Anima-Mundi.<br />

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Published by Anima-Mundi to coincide with the exhibition ‘Landscapes’ by <strong>Onya</strong> <strong>McCausland</strong><br />

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or<br />

by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the publishers<br />

Street-an-Pol . St. Ives . Cornwall . Tel: 44 (0)1736 793121 . Email: mail@anima-mundi.co.uk . www.anima-mundi.co.uk


www.anima-mundi.co.uk

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