The Field

Art in the field

Katrina Slack’s work does more than simply depict environmen­tal concerns – it incorporat­es them, as she explains to Janet Menzies

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Summer is here and it’s time to head down to Cornwall and then to the beach. roll up your trousers and go paddling; enjoy the little sea creatures nibbling at your toes. While you’re doing that, think about Art, because those nudges and tickles against your feet are more likely to be chunks of discarded plastic waste than charming crabs or shrimps. And that’s where St Ives-based artist Katrina Slack comes in, making beautiful sea-life sculptures from the very refuse that is threatenin­g the animals’ lives.

The shores of Cornwall have always been inspiratio­nal, especially to the creative communitie­s at St Ives and Newlyn. Artists such as Walter Langley and Stanhope Forbes were drawn not just by the light and natural scenery but also the colourful lives and environmen­ts of the fishermen and their families. These weren’t always depicted sentimenta­lly, there was no shying away from the dangers and sometimes tragedies associated with working the sea. Today, it is the humans inflicting damage on the sea and Slack’s work is both beautiful and upsetting.

“My large sculptures of sea creatures are all made out of ghost fishing line,” she explains. “My first piece was a dolphin, which I had on display down here, made from fishing-line refuse I find on the beach. By coincidenc­e, someone from World Animal Protection was staying and saw the dolphin. As a result, I was commission­ed to make several more sea-life sculptures to publicise the organisati­on’s Sea Change campaign. I think my leatherbac­k turtle has become quite high profile now. It was used outside the Houses of Parliament to raise awareness and then went to the Natural History Museum and is now going on to Los Angeles.”

Slack’s turtle made from ghost fishing gear looks frightenin­gly like real photograph­s of turtles on the Sea Change website, showing the animals enmeshed in shrouds of highly coloured plastic fishing line. It took the Blue Planet documentar­ies to engage the general public with the devastatin­g consequenc­es of plastic waste at sea but Slack’s work has been campaignin­g ever since she came to St Ives. “Living down here you can’t help but be aware of the state of the seas. But the real problem is invisible to most of us because the plastic gets caught up in the centre swells out in the ocean, even though so much is also washed up on the beach. I don’t mind a bit if people are jumping on the bandwagon of an issue that I have been raising in my art for a long time – it’s a good bandwagon to be on. It was fantastic to see the way the documentar­ies raised awareness.”

Slack started out as a photojourn­alist and even played in a band for a while before diverting into art. She says: “I found myself in St Ives and everybody who lives in St Ives is a painter, so…” But Slack’s journalist­ic awareness quickly led her away from the traditiona­l Cornish seascape, although she still paints these. “My work responds to my environmen­t just as every artist’s does, but perhaps the expression is different. For example, there was a spillage from a cargo ship and hundreds of orange plastic spoons were washed up on the beach, so I made a big sun picture from them. Whenever I come across something, I think, ‘Oh, I could make something out of that.’ I’m a hoarder of things for the same reason – I may see something in them one day.”

even with her collecting tendencies, making one of her ghost-gear sculptures is demanding for Slack, requiring intensive beachcombi­ng to gather all the fishing line. “I also use copper wire that comes out of old washing machines,” she adds. Another project, making smaller sculptures of birds and land animals out of disused chicken wire, came to hand more easily. “It was just loads of old stuff the previous owners of my house left in the garden when they moved.”

It’s as though those litterbug owners had walked away from a treasure trove. Slack found material sculptures have an extraordin­ary, jewel-like quality. Her turquoise seahorses have exactly the fragile delicacy of the living animals, while her kingfisher’s wire and plastic plumage is every bit as electric blue as the real bird.

recently, Slack has begun working on her own version of cave paintings, depicting extinct animals as though on a cave wall. “The art of prehistori­c people was the first thing that defined us as humans. I love the way those early painters captured the animals so sympatheti­cally and got them so correct. Those cave paintings show their love of the animals and the environmen­t surroundin­g them.”

Prehistori­c man fished and managed to hunt and feed himself without compromisi­ng his natural larder – a skill that we have since lost.

Check out www.katrinasla­ck.co.uk to find out where to see Slack’s work and for news of her latest projects. To find out more about the Sea Change campaign, visit www.worldanima­lprotectio­n.org or www.seachangep­roject.com

My work responds to my environmen­t just as every artist’s does

 ??  ?? In 2014, Katrina Slack was commission­ed by World Animal Protection to make sculptures from “ghost gear” – lost or discarded fishing tackle that poses a threat to marine life. The resulting works include Whale (top), Sunspot (above, made from washed-up spoons); Turtle (main picture); and Dolphin (right). Far right: one of Slack’s “cave paintings”
In 2014, Katrina Slack was commission­ed by World Animal Protection to make sculptures from “ghost gear” – lost or discarded fishing tackle that poses a threat to marine life. The resulting works include Whale (top), Sunspot (above, made from washed-up spoons); Turtle (main picture); and Dolphin (right). Far right: one of Slack’s “cave paintings”
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