It is still and calm this afternoon in Bath following some high energy weather this past week. Those of an Ulster or Scottish background would have had full use of their extensive rainfall lexicon, as all manner of downpour and dreich has been visited upon us these last seven days. The odd breeze as well, blowing the new year cobwebs away.
'The Storm' by Mary Oliver
'Now through the white orchard my little dog
romps, breaking the new snow
with wild feet.
Running here running there, excited,
hardly able to stop, he leaps, he spins
until the white snow is written upon
in large, exuberant letters,
a long sentence, expressing
the pleasures of the body in this world.
Oh, I could not have said it better'
A big thanks to everyone who visited our stand at the London Art Fair in Islington. The centrepiece of our presentation was a new minotaur sculpture by Beth Carter. The second image, with Beth herself gives a better idea of its scale.
Also featuring at London Art Fair, the ever-popular Helen Simmonds who will be the subject of a solo show in the autumn of this year. Helen's work is an embodiment of Samuel Beckett's remark (in 'Molloy') that 'To restore silence is the role of objects'.
'Every object has a hidden fund of reality that comes form a deeper source than the word that designates the object. Man can meet this hidden fund only with silence. The first time he sees an object, man is silent of his own accord. With his silence, man comes into relationship with the reality in the object which is there before ever language gives it a name. Silence is his tribute of honour to the object.'
Max Picard ‘Le Monde du Silence’
Another popuar artist at the London Art Fair was Bobbie Russon. With her work on the outer section of our stand it did attract attention and did at times cause congestion along the thoroughfare.
‘Instructioins on not giving up’ by Ada Limón
'More than the fuchsia funnels breaking out
of the crabapple tree, more than the neighbor’s
almost obscene display of cherry limbs shoving
their cotton candy-colored blossoms to the slate
sky of Spring rains, it’s the greening of the trees
that really gets to me. When all the shock of white
and taffy, the world’s baubles and trinkets, leave
the pavement strewn with the confetti of aftermath,
the leaves come. Patient, plodding, a green skin
growing over whatever winter did to us, a return
to the strange idea of continuous living despite
the mess of us, the hurt, the empty. Fine then,
I’ll take it, the tree seems to say, a new slick leaf
unfurling like a fist to an open palm, I’ll take it all.'
‘Instructioins on not giving up’ by Ada Limón
'More than the fuchsia funnels breaking out
of the crabapple tree, more than the neighbor’s
almost obscene display of cherry limbs shoving
their cotton candy-colored blossoms to the slate
sky of Spring rains, it’s the greening of the trees
that really gets to me. When all the shock of white
and taffy, the world’s baubles and trinkets, leave
the pavement strewn with the confetti of aftermath,
the leaves come. Patient, plodding, a green skin
growing over whatever winter did to us, a return
to the strange idea of continuous living despite
the mess of us, the hurt, the empty. Fine then,
I’ll take it, the tree seems to say, a new slick leaf
unfurling like a fist to an open palm, I’ll take it all.'
Please click on images to go to individual artists' webpages.
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The gallery is open 10-5 Monday to Saturday.
Thanks as always for reading.
Aidan