Kristina Botinova

‘What if? Metropolis’OGR Part 1

Contents

• Angie Lewin Summary

• Influence Map

• Travelogue

• Thumbnails (1-83)

• The Artist’s Toolkit Links

Angie Lewin

Angie Lewin is a printmaker, painter and designer. She and her husband wanted to escape from the exhausting

and active life in the big city so they decided to buy a holiday home on the coast in Weybourne where they would

take a breathe. Eventually they both moved full-time to the house, both in love with the place and the peaceful

nature surrounding it. Angie studied horticulture after moving to Norfolk where she found her inspiration for

printmaking again. This decision helped her develop in her carrer.

“Inspired by both the clifftops and saltmarshes of the North Norfolk coast and the Scottish Highlands, I depict

these contrasting environments and their native flora in wood engraving, linocut, silkscreen, lithograph and

collage. These landscapes are often glimpsed through intricately detailed plantforms.”, explains Angie. She would

focus on certain detail such the little eggs of bugs on the plant or the way they ate parts of a leaf in perfect circle.

She often collects different materials such as seedpods, grasses, flints and dried seaweed, from her walks, which

she uses for her collages.

She is attracted by sweeping, desolate places like Norfolk clifftops, salt marshes, beaches, Highland rivers, hill

lochs, west-coast seascapes. One of the artists who inspired her into her work is Alan Reynolds.

What she is mainly interested into showing through her art are the insignificant, about to bloom flowers, who are

often passed by, or considered to be weeds. She looks for the best possible way to depict their structure and

character, which she doesn’t want to show absolutely accurate, but by capturing it’s essence and what makes it

different.

Influence maps

TravelogueOnce upon a time, there was a beautiful young girl living in a big city… Not quite. She was an ordinary girl, not so pretty, nor smart, living in asmall flat with her mother. This family was a simple and ordinary one, just like any other in the city – gray and silent. Why gray and silent youmight ask? Well that is simple! Because all the colours the city had was everything from white to black. You would not be able to see pastyour nose even on a sunny day when the fog was not as thick as usual. The people that inhabited it were a reflection of this city. Since theplace had a rule of ‘no colours’, the emotions one could express were limited as well. Nobody knew what would happen if you dared tobreak the rules, because nobody was daring enough to do it, as to be brave and bold was something forbidden as well. If someone foreignwere to visit this city, they would think that it was deserted since the locals were not allowed to talk louder or more than necessary.Everyone had their role which they fulfilled in silence in slavery to their city. Nobody dared to change their routines as they were taught inschools that this was the only way one could survive. But enough about this boring city… This young girl was called Flora. She was nodifferent than any other citizen. She had straight, dark gray hair, which rested on her shoulders, pale, white skin, and gray eyes. However,looks can be deceiving, as what actually made her different was her inner self. You see, a city where no fun is allowed and where laughing ispermitted only during certain moments, may be boring for a little girl. Flora’s father, whom she never knew, was a brave man who dared tobreak the rules of their society and got punished for it shortly after she was born. What was his crime you might ask? His crime was that hegave his daughter a colourful name – Flora. One of the rules of the city was that a person’s name should not have any meaning, nor standout in any kind of way. It must be a combination of silent letters so that no one would have to raise their voice while pronouncing it. Flora’smother was, as you may have figured out by now, a simple woman who had no emotions. She would show no affection nor sorrow abouther missing husband, nor display love to her little daughter.

Flora would always spend her time in the attic, reading her father’s journals about the other worlds he used to imagine, after she hadfinished her school duties. These journals were his way to escape his dull reality, without being punished for it. Like father, like child. Shewould hide her colourful mind in secret, even from her mother. It was a world where no one was allowed to think outside the borders thatwere enforced upon them.

One day, Flora was in the attic when she heard a noise. She stopped reading her father’s journals and listened. Fast footsteps of a creaturewith small feet flew from one side of the roof to the small window on the wall. She stood up and tried to gently open it so she could seewhat it was without scaring it – a chipmunk! She had never seen one before and so she gasped in excitement.

The old window creaked loudly as she forced it open, as it had most likely never been opened before. Unfortunately, the noise scared the

chipmunk away and it jumped, hiding in the tree’s canopy. ‘’Wait!’’, desperate to catch the animal, Flora tried to run after it and stumbled on

the window’s frame falling on a branch. She climbed onto it and looked around to discover something that appeared to be a small tree house,

buried deep within the tree’s branches and hidden to those who may have peered up from below. Inside she found an old wooden box with

no lock. She opened it and found a book and a key in the shape of a dandelion next to it. As she unlocked it a strong light shone from it,

sucking Flora into its pages. The next thing she knew, she was no longer in the tree house. She found herself in a forest far from the city where

she lived. She knew that she must have been very far away, precisely due to the fact that this place was not completely and utterly polluted

with hues of gray. Although puzzled, she started to walk into this unfamiliar place and wondered how to get back home. But then again, why

would she want to go back to the gray city? This was different and exciting and she liked it! She walked until she reached the edge of a cliff

with the water of a nearby waterfall beneath her. She recalled all of the fascinating places her father used to describe in his writings and

imagine in his drawings, but this was way beyond anything she could have ever envisioned. These were things she hadn’t learnt about in

school, as they were taught only what was necessary in order for them to become good workers. Additional knowledge was not considered

useful.

In the distance she spotted a big structure which looked something like a white dome. It was hard to tell the purpose it served amidst the

mountains. She started walking towards the mysterious, gigantic structure. As she got closer, it became more and more transparent. Soon she

realised it was a greenhouse with strange shapes inside. The greenhouse was surrounded by tall mountains and infinite forests. Logically, the

dome wouldn’t receive much sunlight due to its surroundings, but somehow it seemed perfectly lit, almost shining. Soon Flora saw that it was

not the dome that was shining, but the mirrors on one of the mountains ridges, reflecting sunlight onto it. Why had someone set up a fake sun

just for this greenhouse? What does it contain? Is it dangerous? All of these questions started popping up inside Flora’s head with every step

she took towards the greenhouse.

Finally, Flora made it to the dome. However, she saw no door, so she stood there wondering how she could enter it. The dome seemed to be

made out of glass. She looked inside through the glass but couldn’t make out what was in there beside bushes. The puzzling structure was so

big that she felt like an ant beside it. So fascinating and magnificent and so shiny in the reflected sunlight, it even slightly intimidated her. She

walked around the dome on the muddy grass for almost an hour looking for an door or a gate, until she found a pile of big rocks where she

saw a small opening, just big enough for her to squeeze in.

Finally, she made it inside and she was so amazed that she almost stopped breathing! She felt the edges of her mouth curl upwards in a strange

way. What was this feeling she felt? It even made her want to run around and jump! What she found in front of her eyes was something she

could not describe simply because she had never seen it before. She saw colours which were not gray, black or white, but different ones,

somehow joyful and cheerful. She stood up on her feet and started walking around, exploring this intriguing place. There were strange

structures that she recognised from her father’s drawings, ‘’flowers...’’, she murmured under her nose. Fascinated, she continued walking, doing

her best to grasp the big scenery around her and being extra careful not to miss anything. Somehow she knew that this was the place her father

talked about in his journals he called Florayle, “a land of flowers...”, she whispered.

As she continued forward, she spotted a gigantic ferris wheel in the shape of а dill in the distance ahead. It was slowly moving clockwise. Its

cabins were in the shape of seeds, as if the ferris wheel had little ferris wheels all circling on their own axis. The buildings near her looked like

seeds about to bloom into poppies. It seemed as if they were houses. They had small holes like windows and bigger ones carved into it shapes

like doors. It was so interesting how these poppy seeds looked the same but at the same time different in their structure and poses under the

reflected light. There were no streets, as the entire field was grassy with a few rocky patches here and there. There were only but trees inside,

but mostly structures resembling plants. She could recall all of these shapes from the journal. They were each triggering a different memory, a

different story that her father had told. Everything was separated in their plant groups, which made the place even more exciting and layered.

One could never be bored, as there was always something new to explore. She remembered that in the journal was a weed-stinging nettle,

which gathered around a certain area under the most beautiful structures. It was the suburbs. It’s leaves were in the shape of horizontal pointy

blocks with small windows. This place was most definitely the neighbourhood of the poor people. ‘Every beautiful thing needs its protection’, her

father wrote in his journal. It is natural behaviour for one organism to serve as a defense of another species. Other type of weeds were either

houses glued to one another with oddly shaped rooftops or shopping centres – every branch and floor with different a store. The same rule

applied to different leisure activities. ‘The fun neighborhood’, her father had named it. They were all rarely found plants that would grow only on

rocky places, so she found herself on uneven ground.

As Flora continued wandering deeper into the city, she started to see its citizens. They appeared to look just like in the city she lived in. However,

she noticed that they dressed differently and wore many bright and beautiful colours. They also made different facial expressions, some of which

were very unusual. Suddenly, Flora witnessed something rare – the place became loud with chatter as the air filled with voices and unfamiliar

sounds. ‘Why are these people talking to each other and making strange noises? Why are they so different from one another?’, she pondered.

She saw vehicles that looked like sliced oranges or lemons, moving forwards on their seeds. It all seemed so fun and exciting. The people who

were passing by greeted her with strange expressions, their mouths curling upwards at the sides. She had never seen this type of expression

before, so she couldn’t really name it. She wondered what this gesture could mean, and since she was told from when she was little to always

blend in, she started repeating what the people around her were doing. Flora was a gray girl amidst a rainbow of colours, and she definitely

stood out.

It seemed that Flora had reached the city centre, as the buildings were different than the ones she had seen up until now. Everything had been

more like different types of neighbourhoods, with only a specific set of plant-shaped buildings. Here, she saw tall buildings reaching up into in

the sky as flowers. There were skyscrapers in the shapes of different leaves. On the ground were large circular shapes, the middle part of the

flower, which functioned as large buildings, maybe hospitals, or perhaps even schools. Encasing these buildings were petals, which collected

solar energy when they bloomed. The biggest and most interesting building so far, was a purple one that looked like it had a crown of blue, green

and pink in a unique shape of a not bloomed yet rare flower. Near it were a set of thistles with all different types of petals. Even though these

plants did not usually look very friendly nor beautiful, there was something about their colours and shapes that made them look so beautiful.

She suddenly realised that the city was getting darker. All the flower buildings closed their petals. There were lamps on the grassy ‘streets’

shaped like briar berries, which were lit up by fireflies. She followed the path up to a small lake which was surrounded by the glow of some

strange flowers. Around the lake was a bush of dandelions, brightly lit up in different colours. There was one in the lake, to witch people had to

cross over to by a bridge. She became so curious as to what these buildings were, as there were interesting noises coming from them. As she

drew nearer, she saw some citizens sitting on small wooden chairs at wide tables having a meal. Flora realised that she hadn’t eaten anything

since arriving at this place and smelling the food triggered her hunger. She found a place at a table and sat away from the locals. She was given

the menu by the waiter. Everything on the menu included all kinds of insects and plants. The idea to have a meal quickly disappeared from her

mind and she moved on the to dandelion-shaped buildings where she found herself amongst a crowd of people who were doing something

forbidden for her – fun. And she gave in…

Nobody knows what happened to Flora afterwards. Her mother, as gray as she was never seemed to miss her, or at least never showed it. Rumor

has it, she committed a crime and she was punished for it. Some say she escaped somehow over the highly secured border. Soon after nobody

even knew who was Flora. Maybe just another citizen on the gray city, how could someone tell the difference between one another, when they

are both alike?

Thumbnails

The Artist’s Toolkit Links

• Autodesk Maya http://artscientists.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/Maya

• Digital drawing http://artscientists.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/Digital%20Painting

• Traditional Drawing http://artscientists.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/Toolkit%20Drawing

• Film reviews http://artscientists.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/Film%20review