Archive for the Art Category

Gaudí and a Shorts Story

Posted in Architecture, Barcelona, Biographical with tags , , on September 30, 2023 by telescoper

It being a Saturday, and the weather forecast suggesting a temperature of around 30° C, I made an early start this morning to beat the tourist crowds and the heat as I walked around. I managed the latter but not the former. My aim was to visit the famous landmarks associated with architect Antoni Gaudí, the Casa Botlla and the still unfinished Sagrada Familia. Here are some pics I took on the way there and back.

I didn’t actually go in either establishment because of the cost and the crowds. I’m told things will get a bit quieter later in the year so I might try again in November or so. Incidentally, if you’re interested in visiting the Sagrada Familia then be careful as it is quite difficult to get to: there are a lot of roadworks nearby associated with a new tram track so it’s best to walk there than try to get near it by car. It’s also quite expensive to get in – €34, no less. The other church (in the 6th pic) I passed on the way is, I think, this one.

The approach to the Sagrada Familia triggered some memories of my last visit there 30 years ago but the surrounding area has changed quite a bit. The fifth picture, entitled ‘Entrance’, was the best attempt I could make at recapturing an old view:

There is a busy main road now where there was a dirt track back in 1993 and I didn’t want to get run over by bus taking my picture so I couldn’t get close enough to reproduce the angle. Note also that the tower to the left in the old picture now has a new structure in front of it.

Anyway, I had a nice walk around, ending up by the harbour where there was a jazz-and-cocktails event going on but it was getting too hot by then so I went and ate an indoor pizza then retreated to my hotel for a siesta.

Last week, discovering how warm it is here, I decided to buy a new pair of shorts (Bermudas). That turned out to be trickier than expected. Many stores here are selling their autumn range rather than summer gear, but when I tried a nearby El Corte Inglés I found the remnants of the summer short range were on sale at half price. Sadly I was then flummoxed by the sizes and confounded by the lack of a signal so I could check using my phone. When I did find a conversion table from UK to Spanish sizes I found it was wildly inaccurate and had to try on three pairs of increasing size until I found a pair that fit.

Fancy that. Inaccurate information on the internet! Who would have though it?

Memories of Barcelona

Posted in Architecture, Art, Biographical with tags , , , on September 17, 2023 by telescoper

I’ve had this poster for 30 years. It’s survived several relocations and is now on my bedroom wall in Maynooth. I bought it on a holiday in Barcelona in 1993 which, coincidentally, was the centenary of the birth of Joan Miró, and the reason for a special exhibition.

Since it’s a rainy Sunday afternoon and I’m feeling a bit nostalgic with just a week to go before I go to Barcelona once more, I thought I’d rummage through some boxes of old photographs to share some pictures taken on that trip in 1993. The first one is me being a bit scared on the funicular railway. The last picture shows my holiday mate David in blue (to the centre left) looking rather fetching from the rear as he ponders the Sagrada Familia:

Back in 1993 the Sagrada Familia was basically a building site. Thirty years on, it still isn’t finished but will be completed in 2026. Possibly. So I’m told.

Fall – Bridget Riley

Posted in Art with tags , , on September 2, 2023 by telescoper
Fall 1963 Bridget Riley born 1931 Purchased 1963 http://www.tate.org.uk/art/work/T00616

by Bridget Riley (1963, 1410 × 1403 mm, polyvinyl acetate paint on hardboard, Tate Britain, London, UK)

The gallery label reads:

‘I try to organise a field of visual energy which accumulates until it reaches maximum tension’, Riley said of this work. From 1961 to 1964 she worked with the contrast of black and white, occasionally introducing tonal scales of grey. In Fall, a single perpendicular curve is repeated to create a field of varying optical frequencies. Though in the upper part a gentle relaxed swing prevails, the curve is rapidly compressed towards the bottom of the painting. The composition verges on the edge of disintegration without the structure ever breaking.

Girls into skull

Posted in Art with tags , , on August 7, 2023 by telescoper

I found this disturbingly macabre engraving in an old book of poetry. I don’t know the artist, who is not identified in the book. The image seems very Victorian. Perhaps someone can identify it?

Many thanks to Wyn Evans in the comment below who identified this work as Le Cholera Morbus by M. de Gallieni, an artist unknown to me. It was executed in 1885.

Watching the Hurling

Posted in Art, GAA with tags , , on July 13, 2023 by telescoper
Picture Credit: James Crombie of INPHO

No time for a proper post today, but I do have a gap in between meetings to share this wonderful picture of a little lad absorbed by the action at Croke Park during last weekend’s All-Ireland Hurling Semi-Final between Kilkenny and Clare (won by Kilkenny by 1-25 to 1-22, after a strong fightback by Clare). It’s a superb composition, with the little boy seemingly on his own but united with the others by their joint fascination with the game.

The All-Ireland Final (between Limerick and Kilkenny) is on Sunday 23rd July at 3.30pm. Whoever the kid is he might well be there; you can tell from the yellow and black stripes of his replica kit that he’s a Kilkenny supporter…

This Englishwoman – Stevie Smith

Posted in Art, Poetry with tags , on June 17, 2023 by telescoper

Thinking about Stevie Smith after yesterday’s post I thought I’d post something by her. She liked to put funny little sketches or doodles with some of her more whimsical poems, some of which are very short like this one, which brought a smile to my face so I thought I’d share it.

Chanson d’Automne

Posted in Art, History, LGBTQ+, Music with tags , , , on June 6, 2023 by telescoper

I’ve mentioned on here before that I had an English teacher at school who used to set interesting creative writing challenges, in which we would be given two apparently disconnected topics and asked to write something that connected them together. The inspiration was ‘Only Connect’, the epigraph of E.M. Forster’s novel Howard’s End. Since I’ve spent all afternoon in an Exam Board meeting I thought I’d do a little bit of connecting now.

Les sanglots longs
Des violons
De l’automne
Blessent mon coeur
D’une langueur
Monotone.

Tout suffocant
Et blême, quand
Sonne l’heure,
Je me souviens
Des jours anciens
Et je pleure;

Et je m’en vais
Au vent mauvais
Qui m’emporte
Deçà, delà,
Pareil à la
Feuille morte.

Chanson d’Automne, by Paul Verlaine (1844-1896).

I posted the above poem by Paul Verlaine for two reasons. One is that lines from the poem were broadcast on the eve of the Normandy Landings. The landings themselves began in the morning of June 6th 1944 and the excerpt – the last three lines of the first verse – formed a coded message broadcast to the French resistance by Radio Londres, 5th June 1944 at 23.15 GMT, informing them that the Allied invasion of France was imminent and that sabotage operations should commence.

The other reason is that that it was just two weeks ago that I attended a concert featuring settings by Benjamin Britten of prose poems taken from  Les Illuminations by Arthur Rimbaud. I didn’t know until that Verlaine and Rimbaud were lovers and that they lived for some time together in London. Their relationship was on the tempestuous side – at one point Verlaine fired a gun at Rimbaud, wounding him in the hand. Here’s a detail from a painting showing the two of them (Verlaine on the left, Rimbaud on the right).

It was said of Rimbaud that, as well as writing remarkable poetry, he was cute-looking, had a very dirty sense of humour, drank a bit too much, and liked lots and lots of rough sex. I think I would have liked him (although perhaps not enough to risk being shot by his jealous older boyfriend).

Anyway, this provides me with an excuse not only to commemorate D-Day but also Pride Month!

 

Ceci n’est pas un tapis de souris

Posted in Art, Education, Maynooth on April 7, 2023 by telescoper
It is now…

R.I.P. Wally Fawkes (1924-2023)

Posted in Art, Jazz, R.I.P. with tags , , , , on March 16, 2023 by telescoper

I just heard today – via the latest Private Eye – of the passing of Wally Fawkes on 1st March at the age of 98. His name won’t be familiar to many of the readers of this blog, but it is a name that I grew up with in a jazz-loving family. Wally Fawkes played clarinet with Humphrey Lyttelton’s band in its heyday in the late 40s and early 50s and was the last surviving member of that group. That band may have had a rhythm section that always sounded like its members were wearing diving boots, but the front line of Humphrey Lyttelton (trumpet), Wally Fawkes (clarinet) and Keith Christie (trombone) was truly outstanding.

Wally Fawkes wasn’t just a musician, though. He was also the acclaimed cartoonist known by the pseudonym Trog, and contributed a variety of cartoons to a variety of magazines and newspapers, including the long-running comic strip Flook. He was also an occasional contributor to Private Eye. He had to give up drawing in 2005 because of failing eyesight, after 62 years in the business.

I’ve already drawn attention to Wally Fawke’s excellence as a clarinet soloist with the Lyttelton band on The Onions at the famous 1954 Festival Hall Concert so it seems apt to pay tribute to his skills as both a cartoonist and a musician by returning to that concert for him playing his own composition Trog’s Blues. Wally Fawkes was a huge admirer of Sidney Bechet, and this tune clearly pays homage to Bechet’s monumental Blue Horizon (which I think is the finest instrumental blues ever recorded) but while Bechet’s blues performances were hewn from granite, Wally’s were wrought from finest porcelain.

R.I.P. Wally Fawkes (1924-2023)

Internazionale – Camille Souter

Posted in Art with tags , , , on March 4, 2023 by telescoper

Internazionale by Camille Souter (1965, 76.2 x 63.5 cm, oil on newsprint, private collection).

Posted in tribute to the artist, who has passed away at the age of 93.

R.I.P. Camille Souter (1929-2023).