Monday, 22 October 2012
Friday, 1 April 2011
Hastings Old Town, 2011
A day trip to Hastings nosing around the antique and bric-a-brac shops of the old town, re-focussed my thoughts to the meaning of 'things' and the memories they provoke whether for the owner or the on-looker.
Memories for me; as I assume for most, are my way of making sense of this world - who am I? where do I belong? who did this belong to? what did it mean to them? I guess the trip away provided the thinking space I needed to confirm my feelings and sense of importance I put on objects. Although I would by no means call myself a collector or worse still hoarder of 'things'; I have an unusually strong, I think, sense of attachment to certain 'things'.
Dreaming of Home (2) 2010
The second of the collagraph prints inspired by Sibyl Ruth's poem, "Glimmers", translated from those written by her Great Aunt Rose, whilst in the Theresienstadt Ghetto. Dreaming of Home (1) and (2) were exhibited during Thame Art and Literature Festival in June 2010.
Thursday, 18 March 2010
Exciting news!
Following last month's post, I endeavoured to track down Sibyl Ruth and approached her with a view to using some of her poems to inspire artwork/prints for the Thame Arts and Literary Festival in June. More information to follow.....
Sibyl has very kindly given me the go ahead to produce work in response to her Great Aunt Rose's translated poems. Fantastic! Now the hard work begins!
I have booked myself onto a course over four weekends in April/May to hopefully gain some new techniques in collograph printing, run by Betty Ebanja of Oxford Printmakers. Should be fun....
All I have to do now is get my mangle converted into an intaglio printing press and I'm away!!
Sibyl has very kindly given me the go ahead to produce work in response to her Great Aunt Rose's translated poems. Fantastic! Now the hard work begins!
I have booked myself onto a course over four weekends in April/May to hopefully gain some new techniques in collograph printing, run by Betty Ebanja of Oxford Printmakers. Should be fun....
All I have to do now is get my mangle converted into an intaglio printing press and I'm away!!
Saturday, 20 February 2010
Terezin Dreams
Recently enjoyed Radio 4's program featuring Sibyl Ruth's interpretation of poems written by her German great aunt "Tante Rose" written during time in the 'ghetto-town' Theresienstadt during WWII.
As in Sebald's 'Austerlitz', which gives us a rare glimpse of the life of prominent Jewish writers, intellectuals and musicians interned in the camp, the poems give us personal insight into day to day life inside the ghetto, how they endured the horrendous conditions and how they remained hopeful of freedom.
With this in mind, hoping to develop ideas for an exhibition later this year as part of Thame Arts & Literary Festival entitled "Another Language" - encorporating themes of visual or artistic language and translation.
As in Sebald's 'Austerlitz', which gives us a rare glimpse of the life of prominent Jewish writers, intellectuals and musicians interned in the camp, the poems give us personal insight into day to day life inside the ghetto, how they endured the horrendous conditions and how they remained hopeful of freedom.
With this in mind, hoping to develop ideas for an exhibition later this year as part of Thame Arts & Literary Festival entitled "Another Language" - encorporating themes of visual or artistic language and translation.
Tuesday, 19 January 2010
Winterscape
hedges in negative
ink drawn branches - china black
clothed in snow, like bleached bones
crows perched high, black sentinels
stark, reductionist landscape
a veil of grey hangs over the sky
jets penetrate and disappear into the velvet depths
colour exists only by human hand
seeming strangely out of place
life slows, in time with mans semi-conscious state
ink drawn branches - china black
clothed in snow, like bleached bones
crows perched high, black sentinels
stark, reductionist landscape
a veil of grey hangs over the sky
jets penetrate and disappear into the velvet depths
colour exists only by human hand
seeming strangely out of place
life slows, in time with mans semi-conscious state
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