This page is intended to highlight what is currently going on/ new posts, etc.
This page is intended to highlight what is currently going on/ new posts, etc.
Into autumn proper and a busy time with one thing and another. I go down to Cornwall to do a Dowsing course and am greeted with a range of weather. Rough seas at Mousehole thanks to the tail end of an American hurricane. Things settle down then, though, for some nice skies and sunsets:
Whilst down there, I walk a bit and take in some of the ancient sites. Some of these are 3000+ years old and include stone circles with all sorts of astro-alignments:
Also, some rather lovely Holy Wells – each of these come with their own reputation for healing specific ailments. As again their tradition goes back hundreds of years, there must be something in this – people would not have time to mess around. Here, we have the lovely Madron Well and the well at Sancreed, where, literally, you have to go into the ground to reach it:
People now think it was the mineral content, or indeed the high levels of uranium, that gave/ give a boost to the immune system in helping with illnesses.
Sancreed is also home to a branch of the Grenfells and has a lovely church.
Very old wayside stone crosses everywhere down there as well:
Later I visit the splendid Cataluyan city of Girona for interviewing – rather lovely it is too:
Trips to London – especially for the Anti-Brexit march. I am an anti-brexiter with a passion and see leaving the European Union as a catastrophe.
Quite a lot of art happening this month. In Cornwall, I visit the Borlase Smart exhibition at the Penlee Gallery. This turns out to be a real pleasure and eye-opener. I always saw him as a bit of a ‘rear-grade’ to modernist generation I am interested in: Nicholson, Hepworth, Heron, etc. But, it turns out he did sea scapes of almost Monet like devotion:
Then, on to contemporary art at the Newlyn Gallery. A good idea – art expressing the exuberance of youth, but almost nothing there!! Really, this gallery becomes more and more of a disappointment. I have to again remind readers that people like me – cultural critics – have as much fun criticizing art as they do enjoying it.
A quirky exhibition on Michael Jackson at the National Portrait Gallery in London as well. Rather confused, and does not seem to know if it wants to celebrate him or deconstruct him!
A brilliant exhibition on Anni Albers at the Tate Modern:
She was part of the Bauhaus in Germany in the 1920s and 30s and then moved to the US to escape Nazi persecution. This exhibition offers a marvellous range of her work in weaving, tapestry and sketching/ drawing. It is a rare example of a craftsperson who extends their work to the fine arts.
In London, I also see the latest David Hare play. It is based around the story of a NHS doctor who becomes a politician. Therefore, a familiar tract for Hare to examine aspects of contemporary Britain. It is good but, in present times, I really wonder if we are not beyond such liberal anguish exhibited at the National Theatre. Something altogether more visceral and corrosive might more hit the spot – something along the lines of the Théâtre de la Craulté :
Uncertain Times indeed, which happens to be the title of the latest tour by King Crimson. I catch up with them in Bournemouth:
For my CD of the month, I am selecting The Giant who Ate Himselfby Glenn Jones:
Glenn Jones played in the ‘American Primitive’ style of guitar, really founded by John Fahey. Indeed, Glenn even did a CD recording with Fahey called: The Epiphany of Glenn Jones – which says a lot, in its music and disk notes, around what Fahey was about, especially in those later years.
‘American Primitive’ guitar is renowned for it emotional focus and tonal clarity – this is NOT the dreaminess of Windham Hill (George Winston, etc.).
When John Fahey died, I could swear I heard his characteristic gaffaw laughter in my house, such was my relationship with him and his music. So, perhaps, unsurprising that I could swear I heard the same gaffaw in the distant background to some of these tracks. Glenn Jones comes close to honouring this style and writing – a nice recording.
Incidentally, my own interview and recordings with Fahey are available here:
My book of the month is Ghost Wallby Sarah Moss.
Really, it is a novella more than a novel of just 149 pages. It tells the story of a group of archeologists getting back to an ancient way of life by camping out rough in the moors – eating and sleeping in nature. However, this quickly becomes a story of the power of pagan forces, their expression, and how easy it is to slip back into the brutality of the past. It is a kind of mix of the last part of Lord of the Flies, Afore Night Come, and 5 Go on Holiday!! However, it is also an allegory of our contemporary times and a warning to those who would sacrifice future generations on behalf of the past.
September is the month that sort of spans the last of the summer and the beginning of the winter – well, autumn at least.
A sure sign is the days getting shorter – the mornings colder, etc. Also, misty mornings where I am.
It is also the time of the Autumn Equinox where there is equal night and day – light and dark. Sunrise to mark the occasion:
In Wiccan terms, this is Mabob, which is the middle of the three harvest festivals; a time of celebration for the fruits and vegetables of the fields. Celebration and sharing are key principles in pleasing the pagan gods at this time.
Another sure sign, is the end of the Prom seasons. After my summer travels, I manage to get in three more concerts: Mahler 3rdsymphony, a Tango evening, and the Berlin Philharmonic under their new conductor playing Beethoven 7thSymphony. The last of these was magnificent.
Other music was Maya Youssef from Syria, playing the qanun – a seventy-eight string plucked zither. Despite the number of strings, it is only really two octaves as this musical tradition using quarter tones – so, four tones per note. Anyway, a fine concert including both traditional and self compositions taken from her new CD Syrian Dreams. mayayoussef.com
A final ‘summer’ trip to Germany – near Limburg/ Frankfurt. A lovely week with temperatures in the 30s – and some nice wine tasting and food sampling. Also, some visits to castles and abbeys/ churches. I found the area to be very civilized indeed.
Whilst there I also visited a rather fine exhibition of art taken from the early period of the Weimar Republic – so, a kind of magic realism in the light of European art of the period. Close associations with The Bridge, Blue Rider and indeed Bauhaus in terms of influence.
This show was somewhat complemented by another show later at the Tate Britain in London: Aftermath. The theme here was art from England, France and Germany in the aftermath of the First World War. It was a bit of a mish-mash, with an emphasis on depicting the tragedies of war itself. Nevertheless, some other indications of what was developing in the art world across Europe.
Then, a very fine production of Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra at the National Theatre, London. A long play – three and a half hours – but riveting. I remember doing it for my A-level English. The leads were top notch – Ralph Fiennes and Sophie Okonedo – and made a mesmerizing pair as they moved towards their final tragedies.
Lots of music going on. But, my favourite in later days is the new CD – after some 26 years – by Nile Rodgers and Chic. Classic Boogie to lift the spirits.
Reading wise, The Town, the first novel by Shaun Prescott, perplexed and intrigued me. Set, again for me, in Australia, it is about a town that is literally disappearing before your eyes. Part Beckett, part Kafka, and part Camus, it is both an elegiac read and somewhat of an allegory for contemporary socio-cultural (eco-political) experience.
This long, glorious summer continued for most of the month, although there were inauspicious thunder storms towards the end, which reminded us that autumn is around the corner!!
In the meantime, the English countryside is at its harvest-like best, with ploughed fields and spacey landscapes.
I spent a week in Somerset and really just hung around on the veranda – cooking and reading – since it was so hot. Again, some nice sunsets over the Severn estuary.
A real Somerset pub as well, selling real Somerset cider – quite rare to find these days.
I went up to London on the 12thfor the unveiling of the new gravestone for William Blake. He is buried in Bunhill Fields in the City, a dissenters’ cemetery, and one closed many years ago. Since 1927, there has been a stone in the cemetery to him and his wife, but not actually on the site he was buried. The site was hit by a bomb in the war and just repositioned for convenience.
So, it has taken some time to track down the actual site, which was finally identified 12 years ago.
It turns out that Blake is buried with seven others, as was the custom in 1827 when he died, and that he was the fourth one down. Anyway, a new stone was commissioned by the Blake Society of St. James and duly cut by the stone cutter Lida Cardozo.
There was much celebration, with singing and poetry – a thousand or so people attended. One piece sung was a new composition by an Australian composer Chris Williams: ‘I give you the end of a golden string, Only wind it into a ball. It will lead you at Heavens gate, Built in Jerusalems wall’. I made an impromptu recording:
Of course, the actual Jerusalem poem from Blake’s prophesy Milton was also sung by the attendees:
I did not catch the first lines, so here are the complete words.
And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon Englands mountains green:
And was the holy Lamb of God,
On Englands pleasant pastures seen!
And did the Countenance Divine,
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here,
Among these dark Satanic Mills?
Bring me my Bow of burning gold:
Bring me my arrows of desire:
Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my Chariot of fire!
I will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand:
Till we have built Jerusalem,
In Englands green & pleasant Land
Of course, these words of this poem, which is much loved by the British and sung almost as a national anthem against the music of Parry, were written when Blake was desperate – ‘Albion is sick’, he declared. And, still so, it seems….
Then away to Cyprus – a beautiful island:
Lots of nice food and company with my ex-student and her family.
Cyprus is a land of castles and churches.
The latter have some of the finest Byzantine religious art in the world – 11thto 15thCentury. Each of these churches is a world heritage site!
Then, Roman archeology as well with, once again, world famous sites and finds – like the mosaics going back to the 4thcentury BC.
I also spend two nights in a swish hotel:
Lots of fun.
The Proms are still on.
I was lucky enough to catch Daniel Barenboim with his West-Eastern Divan Orchestra, made up almost entirely by young Israeli and Palestinian players.
The programme included Tchaikovsky’s D major violin concerto, Scriabin’s Poem of Ecstasy and a new contemporary piece – Looking for Palestine – by David Robert Coleman. The soloist in the Tchaikovsky was a young Georgian-born violinist Lisa Batiashvili who had a beautiful fluency and tone. So, this month’s CD is her explorations of pieces by Prokofiev, which I bought at the show.
Two books this month, both based around Australia. The first is Peter Carey’s novel set in the 1950s where a couple embark on the Redex Trial – a brutal car race around the edge of Australia. It is full of lively characters with something happening every sentence; behind it all, though, is both the racism incipient in Australia, and the tensions and contradictions its past gives rise to. It ends up summing up the essence of contemporary Australia: ‘What may seem to be the signs of madness might be understood by someone familiar with alchemical literature as an encrypton whose function is to insist that our mother country is a foreign land whose language we have not yet earned the right to speak’.
Somewhat as if to prove the point, the second book is the artist Rod Moss’ extraordinary account of living around and befriending Aboriginals in Alice Springs. It is a book that both romanticises and de-romanticises the aboriginals – their art, language and behavior. It kind of shows what they were, what they have become, and what they might still yet be. It is impossible to idealise their situation, really a direct result of having their land taken over by English colonialists who pretty much affected an ethnic genocide. The English declared it Terra Nullis – belonging to no-one!!! Present day aboriginals fight all the time and get drunk. Domestic quarrels routinely involve physical violence and hospitalization. Most Aboriginals are killed by other Aboriginals, and they exact a harsh ‘Old Testament’ revenge on groups and individuals who offend them. Others get condemned for associating with the wrong sort. If ‘the bone’ is shaken at them, they wither away and die. The women carry stones in their knickers to protect themselves, and the men weapons. Most die before seeing out their 50s. Yet, they know the site of every rock and its significance; they spot hidden animals with razor vision, and can kill the same with unerring precision. Yet, attuned as they are to the land and animals, children still torture the life out of creatures with a cruel fascination. Of course, the ‘Dreaming’ is all and everyone’s place in it. They can communicate across great distance by crackling paper and they announce their arrival by cracking a twig. As a character in the Carey novel asserts, people just don’t get it: these guys do not do linear vision, they see the whole 360 degrees as one!!
Summer weeks and we have been treated to Mediterranean weather. It does happen, and time to enjoy it. So, the season to get out in the sun and enjoy the many musical and cultural activities on offer this time of year.
But, first to France, and Saintes near La Rochelle. Good to reconnect with the French language and to sink into their way of life. Whilst I was there, I visited a couple of chateaux: firstly, for a historical tour and some music and, on another night, a play by Molière – a lot of fun.
Also, a very unusual thing: rock carving in the cliff faces in the country there: Les Lapidiales at Port d’Envaux. The rock is very soft so easily sculpted and, certainly, the pieces are each highly original and spectacular. I mean, some of them must be twenty feet in height and all pertain to quite mystical and legendary narratives. People come from around the world to work there. At the time, there was a well-known artist from India who had won various prizes – quite spectacular.
Some theatre – the two ends of the spectrum. First, a performance at the National Theatre in London of The Lehman Trilogy, which told the story of the rise of this German Jewish family who went to the USA in 1848. They started with nothing and eventually built themselves a banking empire. As such, it was, of course, also the story of the rise – and fall! – of capitalism. All acted out by just three actors who played everyone: men, women, children, young and old.
The other pieces was a production by the local amateur dramatics company of Noel Coward’s Present Laughter – a typical piece of English light comedy/ farce. Perfect for a summer evening.
Lots of music happening. I kicked off my first of five visits to this year’s Proms in London with Mahler’s 8th Symphony – the so-called ‘symphony of a thousand’. Certainly, with two orchestras and three choirs on stage, it was full. A big sound made for such a big hall. One of Mahler’s most positive pieces which celebrates earth creation and redemption – interestingly, it was also the most positively received when it was first performed in Vienna in 1910.
Then to the WOMAD festival of world music, art and dance. I think this was my 30th WOMAD event since 1981.
Over the years I have seen it evolve and develop – sometimes working from a very poor resource base – I remember the stage being on fruit boxes at one festival – to the top-notch media event.
I also used to cover it for music magazines in my journalism days. Indeed, my whole love of global music really was ignited by my first WOMAD gig – at the ICA in London. There were two performances: first, by Aboriginals; secondly, a seven-piece West African Drum group. Ekome! It certainly opened my ears. I had never seen anything like it.
Art too – the Summer exhibition at the Royal Academy, London. This year under the heavy influence of Grayson Perry. He certainly gave it a light-hearted and even frivolous air – perhaps just what you want for a summer show. Fun!!
Lots of reading and music listening, but to pick out two of my favourites, for reading, I would choose Annie Ernaux’s The Years – a beautifully written account of her life from 1941 until 2006 in France – eventful years: the war, 60s, 1968, socialism, neoliberalism. She really uses all sorts of literary tricks to convey the sense of time passing and the way her view of the world changes. Sometimes, an event, sometimes an image, sometimes a story or commentary. Yet, the overall sense is one of loss…
Lots of music came my way at WOMAD, but I am going to pick out Dobet Gnahoré’s latest Mziki.
High octane West African sounds of a second – er’ third? – generation musician. The only thing I would say is I wish they would not restrict most of the pieces to under three minutes. Ideal for radio plays but not really in keeping with the style of music which can extend the grooves indefinitely.
Into June, and already it is midsummer. Latterly, some amazing Mediterranean weather turning English grass yellow. Nature is in advance of us and the baby birds have been and gone – the summer solstice is passed. Downhill now to the Winter solstice and when the sun begins its journey back to the earth – or, actually the other way around. So, there is a sense of change and maturity in the air. Nature moves into a fullness:
The schools are soon out – festivals and holidays. Already plans afoot for autumn and even next year.
I travel across to Dublin, Ireland for a few days – quite amazing, sitting outside in the grounds of my ex-college Trinity with the sun setting:
The Liffy and the Halfpenny bridge look a picture:
Then, I am back and immediately into the People’s Vote for Brexit march. I say ‘People’s Vote’ but that seems to be the main tactic at the moment and most of what I heard and saw was more that calling for a vote: more sort of calling for the whole thing to be called off. The march was good-natured. Still, there were six police officers with machines guns across the gates – behind the gates! – as we crossed Downing Street. So, an indication of the state of modern democracy and its sense of vulnerability.
I began learning Spanish.
I figured that with all these trips to South America, I needed to be more proficient than I am in Spanish. Enjoyable and, knowing French, it is interesting to note the similarities between Spanish and French/ English. Many words are the same but then others are completely different. I mean, where does ‘usted’ come from???
Things are hotting up academically as we reach the end of the university year here: students are super active. I also did a conference paper with my student friend Lisa. She has been working on using Bourdieu as a way of generating historical fiction. Pioneering stuff this!!! Anyway, a fun day in Winchester:
A rather good performance of Macbeth at the National Theatre in London. With everything going on in the world, these plays, of power and corruption, take on a new significance. This version cast light and dark, black and red, and managed to be both period and contemporary. The main character was full of doubt, as befitting of the plot in which he had go involved. This meant one had to really concentrate on the words, which are always dense with Shakespeare, but was a welcome change from the rather bombastic style that is often adopted:
Lots of books and sounds pulling me in various directions this month. Of my reading, I particularly liked Haruki Murakami’s ‘Men Without Women’ stories – his first collection for some years. Despite its title, the stories all relate, with curiosity and humour, to facets of contemporary loneliness which, paradoxically arise from human interaction:
Of my listening, this is the time for summer sounds – exotic global music and Prom classics. However, the one CD I really enjoyed was the compilation of Willie Watson’s music. His is a country folk / blues style and, unlike most singers, he is pretty much content to record himself just on his own with instrument and little or no backing. I particularly like his use of claw hammer banjo and his clear Southern American draw of a voice.
My favourite it Dry Bones – a strange prophetic piece:
This made me think of John Fahey’s literal ‘re-visioning’ of the same piece, which kind of shows where he was at in terms of his synthesis of this music within an altogether different ontology:
This month has flashed by, as I attempt to catch up after South America. It is spring: actually, May and June are about the only months that I can tolerate in the UK. It is even warmer here than Mendoza – which gives me a certain amount of pleasure!
My apple tree blossom is out, promising a harvest of apples later this year.
Immediately, there are lovely new foods to enjoy. Like Asparagus, which I enjoy with new potatoes, butter and an egg. Strawberries too!!
My first book to be translated into Portuguese comes out. Very proud. Excellent translation from Fabio Ribeiro of Sao Paulo, Brazil:
I manage to do quite a lot of art this month. Mostly, I am critical of the curration. One has to remember that people like me – academic – get as much pleasure from criticising art as enjoying it. And, this time, there is plenty to object to.
First off, Tacita Dean. I like her work a lot. It seems always very elegiac. Her film about the lone around-world sailor Donald Crowhurst is a marvel. A story of ambition, fakery, heroism, and tragic death: http://www.tate.org.uk/download/file/fid/6559
This time, she has an extensive exhibition occupying no less than three London Galleries: National Portrait, National, and RAA. I enjoyed it, and there focuses on Landscapes, Portraits and Still Life.
All very good, but this sort of contemporary art is a bit like contemporary music: it is best encountered in small doses. This makes it more concentrated and focused. As it was, I found the three gallery span a bit ambitious and, finally, diluting. Her work can be so spectral. But, here, it is a bit underwhelming.
Second, off to Cornwall, and a major show of the expressionist, Patrick Heron at the Tate. He was a leading light in the 1950s – 60s and put St Ives on the map as it were. He was also a writer who was able to articulate what they were trying to do. For a while, St Ives was the centre of the international art world.
Heron with John Wells – another St Ives artist – and the American art critic Clement Greenberg in my home village of Mousehole:
Actually, the show is good with many pieces from the family vaults rarely seen. However, again the curration is absurd in that they mix up all the work over four room: so, basically, four rooms of mish-mash with no sense of chronology. Not that each room does not have titles like: Edge and Space. But, it is all the same for Heron, as if the spectator could not work that out.
Thirdly, Hummadruz at the Newlyn art gallery, which was completely barmy as far as I could see.
The title pertains to an audible ‘buzz’ that is apparently heard as a background in Cornwall on occasion. But, the exhibition was a mix of art from feminists over the past half century or more – give or take – with a whole bunch of pagan artifact, which would not be out of place at the Boscastle Witchcraft Museum.
There were even ‘anti-men’ spells that the viewer could take away with them to enact. Sadly, my friend Ithell Colquhoun’s work was also represented, although why I do not know.
The Nine Opals.
A mess, basically.
Still enjoyed it: But, a complete misrepresentation and misappropriation.
Whilst down in Cornwall, I took in some lovely walks. Like Trencrom Hill with its spring: the cleft in the rock takes the sunset light at midsummer.
Magnificent sunsets as well.
A trip to Madron Holy Well:
On my way back, I visit the Japanese Garden near Newquay. A special place:
Invited to the Family and Friends rehearsal performance by King Crimson – in preparation for their forthcoming European and Japanese tours. Some new pieces – mostly instrumental and jazzier. Quite an amazing ‘run through’.
I have been reading:
The Order of Time by Carlo Rovelli:
And, listening to:
Zsofia Boros’ Local Objects:
Apologies again, if this posting takes on the flavor of ‘holiday pix’ – but images often speak louder than words, and I have been ‘on the road’ in south America for the past five weeks. The descriptive travelogue would take up very many pages indeed. So, here is a fleeting run through some of the impressions and experiences of this time – I have aimed to include material not posted on Facebook – plus a round up of some reading and music.
The stay began with a special event that Lucho was organizing where the city of Mendoza was invited to switch of all their lights as a gesture towards ecology – ‘save the Planet’. Candles were lit and a lovely atmosphere prevailed.
The next event was a Musica en Moviemiento Introductory course. Excellent team here and some very good work.
This being Mendoza, a trip to the local vineyards was never far away:
I then ‘decamped’ to Salta – a town in the north of Argentina.
A further journey north then took me to Humahuaca, saturated with indigenous Indian culture.
And then a meet-up with two of the MEM team for an even more spectacular trip to Cafayate.
The Devil’s throat and Amphitheatre – reputed gateways to the underworld and cosmos respectively.
Again many indigenous signs and myths to get hold of.
This lead to a Dr Mike transformation……Dr Who?
Also some time to search out some contemporary Argentinian art:
A special trip to Samsi – the Yoga, Tai Chi cenre established and managed by one of the MEM team – Vijaya – these past 23 years!!
A honour and a pleasure to meet the team there, eat and speak with them.
Could not resist this photo of fast food – Argentinian style.
A trip to Buenos Aires – a great city.
This trip took in a concert of the British group – Radiohead. Spectacular!!
Pizza with Lili and Lucho at 03.30 in the morning!!
Also a visit to La Boca – a coastal port where the first immigrants arrived
– and tango was born!!!
My favourite photo of the trip:
I posted a recording of the lecture I gave in Mendoza last November – with concurrent interpretation into Spanish.
Lots of reading and listening to music along the way. For music, some traditional Argentinian chanson – beautiful songs:
I need to improve my Spanish, so my reading was firmly English based: one philosophical and the other fiction.
The philosophy is one of those books that one comes across every now and again that seem to pull together and sum up the current direction of one’s own thinking.
The fiction was actually a translation of Esther Kinsky’s book from German – very much in the style of W G Sebald. A very elegiac account of a woman walking the outskirts of the city – London, but other places as well and images joined across time by the presence of water and the river. Very poetic – part psycho-geography, part dream-like, part Bakhtinian carnivalesque:
We gave another Musica en Moviemiento presentation:
Lots more eating outside – but autumn was turning in out there,
….so time to catch up with the English spring…..
Usually, I post my ‘News’ report a few days into the following months. However, this time, I am posting it a few days early into the preceding month. This because I know I shall be travelling here and there a bit, and not much time to sit and consider with the system open before me.
Also, in order to break the pattern a bit, I thought I would do a ‘special’ art posting, since I have done quite a few exhibitions in the past few weeks.
It began with David Haughton at the Penlee Gallery in Penzance. Not a name I had really come across before. It seems he ‘discovered’ St Just in Penwith after he moved to St Ives, Cornwall in 1947. Anyway, he appears to have had an epiphany there and he spent several years painting and drawing not much else. The work had every lane and road of this small village/ town perched up inland from Cape Cornwall. He joined the Penwith Society of artists and exhibited with the best of them, but it was an epiphany that had its drawback as this work completely overshadowed anything else he did after he left to teach in London. Still, interesting stuff.
Another Cornwall-based exhibition was the new one at Tate St Ives with the theme: ‘Virginia Woolf: An Exhibition inspired by her work’. The paradox was that it included some great pieces of art from female artists. However, it was not clear to me at all to what extent Woolf came into the show, or indeed should have. Just sloppy curating in my view. Also, some rather over-exaggerated remarks about Ithell Colquhoun and her network of associates. I have no evidence IC ever read Woolf let alone was influenced by her.
Incidentally, my article on Ithell Colquhoun is now published.
More London shows…
First one of epic proportions by the German photographer Andreas Gursky. It is difficult to suggest the scale of these pictures on a small screen. They tower above you with clarity and colour. Of course, we are talking about photography in a ‘post truth’ world, so they have all been ‘doctored’ to exaggerate certain aspects of the pieces – various figures repeats, re-positioned, and other elements removed. They suggest that what we see is not what exists, amongst other messages. Sometimes they are fun; at others there is a gaping silence when confronted with the essence of a situation, now distilled out into sharp relief.
Two cracking shows at the Tate Modern:
Joan Jonas and her incredible installations: again, we are talking ‘post human’, ‘post feminist’, ‘post truth’, indeed post post…..’
Each one brings you face to face with an angular aspect of life.
The Picasso exhibition displays work from a single year 1932. I went thinking I had seen it all before and was again completely balled over by his level of creativity – and in some many different forms and media. Kind of humbling as well when one thinks about what British artists were doing at the time – he was moving so fast!!
Then, Tacita Dean and things ‘about to disappear’. She really brings a kind of spiritual regard on both the mundane and epic. One almost ends up looking at one’s own ‘looking at’. Very moving.
Book reading is Karmic Traces, which does the same sort of thing in writings.:
February is know as a wicked month: this year came in like a lamb and went out like a tiger. So, all was well and we were chugging on to spring – flowers arriving in the garden, etc. – when the ‘Beast from the East’ struck and then danced a merry tune with Storm Emma. In practice, this meant, sub zero temperatures for the last days of the month and then intense snow for the very last day. It was the speed and intensity of the snow that hit me. I left the house in Cornwall saying, ‘I did not believe it’, only to be in a crisis snow situation 30 mins. later. I then had to abandon my car when I lost all control of it. Luckily, I was near a farm and got to the house after a little walk. Then, frozen up for a few days only to be hit by high rains and winds of Emma.
So, Lent, and a time to give up things – but not food with this climate. Not just yet.
Earlier in the month, my neighbours – Caroline and Marc -celebrated the arrival of their first child – Martha – into the world. Photo has me with holding a baby for the first time ever!
I managed to get over to Berlin for the Guitar Ensemble of Europe’s guitar courses: Intermediate and Beginners. Good teams and a lot of work done. Snowy there too, but some nice lake side scenery.
Played this rather lovely Ovation there – loaned to me by Hernan Nunez.
The chairs seemed to be radioactive!!:
Back to London and the Modigliani exhibition. Quite impressive; although after the Cezanne portraits, these seemed a bit derivative. Still, he did fashion his own recognisable style, and surely stuck to it through a series of portraits and still life figures. Once he had it, however, that was pretty much what it was/ is. That being said, he did die at 35, so we shall never know what else he might have done.
But, it was School Half-Term!!
Off to the theatre and Harold Pinter’s The Birthday Party, first performed in 1957. In those days, it was badly received and shut after a week or two. Now, however, it is seen as a modern classic: a kind of mix of Beckett, Kafka, Agatha Christie and Ben Travers. So, farcical in a very noir way, and focussing on the way we use language to subjugate each other. Also, the way memory is refashioned to suit our wants. A stunning performance from an acclaimed cast.
It is the 100th anniversary of the death of the French composer Claude Debussy. So, I have been listening to his wonderful chromaticism; especially in his solo instrument and quartet work.
Also, reading Julian Barnes’ latest: The Only Story.
He has really matured as a writer in recent years. He always was a good story teller, but now he adds a new depth. As in recent books, the themes include memory, the impact of singular events on life, the nature of love in its glorious manifestations.
January comes in gently with sun and storms – it is an incredible mild winter here – no need to light my lovely fire yet!
A bit late with this posting because I have been in Berlin – about which, more next month!!
January the 6th – Epiphany. An important day for me as it is around now that we notice the light strengthening. It goes on for the months and, by the end, the days are noticeably longer. Birds begin the sing – nature is moving to Spring, even if humans are talking about ‘winter’.
Busy writing with one thing and another, but I take a trip over to Chichester to see the David Bomberg exhibition. A gifted artist of many styles, who is another example of someone who was not really appreciated in their lifetime. He is most original and insightful in his early ‘vortices’ pieces, but then took every which way looking for success, even some fairly straight takes whilst staying in Israel. And, then a wild, late period – almost Turner-easque.
A delightful day visiting in Worcestershire and then to their Cathedral to view the Via Crucis tableau, each based on the Stations of the cross. I had previously encountered them in Exeter and Bath, so it is somewhat of a ‘pilgrimage’ to follow them from one holy site to another. Now they move on to Hereford Cathedral – and then after??
Been listening a lot to Purcell…
…also re-reading the works of that extraordinary English writer, Bruce Chatwin….