Art – Page 23 – Frames of Reference

For Jonathan Savill

It is with great sadness that we have learned of the death of Jonathan Savill. He was the proprietor of The Rowley Gallery and our employer and mentor until his retirement in 1995.

In 1969, upon hearing that The Rowley Gallery was about to close, Jonathan Savill and Jack Rutherford determined to rescue the business. Both had been customers for many years, but it was Savill with his artistic and cabinet making skills who breathed new life into the ailing company. An Old Etonian ex Guards officer with interests in gardening (a family tradition – his uncle had created the Savill Garden at Windsor Park), fishing and painting, his pictures were regularly exhibited at The Rowley Gallery, alongside works by his wife, notable botanical watercolourist, Jenny Jowett. His enthusiasm sustained The Rowley Gallery for over 25 years. Continue reading “For Jonathan Savill”

Ox Drove

I seem always to have been drawn to trees as a motif in the landscape, possibly because of their strong architectural forms. There are parallels as I am also interested in interior space, and as with interlinking rooms I find receding pathways compelling in the way the eye is taken through the picture plane. Continue reading “Ox Drove”

For John Hubbard

This short film was made for the exhibition, Littoral: John Hubbard in Context at the Luther Brady Gallery in Washington, D.C. in 2013. “People found it fascinating to learn more about where he lives and how he works. His singing was quite a revelation.” It’s a lovely portrait and a touching memorial to a deeply romantic artist. John Hubbard died on 6th January 2017. He was 85. Continue reading “For John Hubbard”

Polka

Polka by Mark Morris. The dance uses a piece for violin and piano by contemporary composer Lou Harrison. Morris was taken by its final movement, called, strangely enough, “polka.”

I always start with a piece of music. I’m not doing, like, a musicological analysis and writing a paper or anything, but I’m figuring out in my mind what makes that particular piece work. So my intention is to say through dancing exactly what I think is being said through music.

Because I heard that “polka,” I said I must choreograph this right now. And to me, it sounds very, very ancient. And so I wanted to make up a dance that was evocative and a little mysterious and seemed like maybe people had been doing it for hundreds or thousands of years. That was my assignment.

Art Ensemble Of Chicago

The Art Ensemble of Chicago play tonight at Café Oto, but I’m too late to get tickets, they’re all sold out. Instead I remember their performance at The Roundhouse in 1982, as part of the Camden Jazz Festival. They were astonishing and spectacular, unlike any other band, and able to encapsulate the whole history of jazz with wild improvisations and swinging ensemble playing and breathtaking solos. They were sweet and fiery and dynamic and funny and possibly the best band I ever saw. Here are four videos from Polish television of a performance in Warsaw, probably from the same tour, and the closest I can find to my memory of that fantastic night in Camden. Continue reading “Art Ensemble Of Chicago”

Walking Back To Montefollonico

We’d just walked to Montepulciano in the blistering midday sun, feeling a bit like ‘mad dogs & Englishmen’ as we climbed the last few kilometres, quivering from heat exhaustion, thirsty and hungry and pretty sure we’d be returning to Montefollonico in a taxi. But after a surprising lunch at L’Altro Cantuccio we were rejuvenated and given new legs to walk us back home. Continue reading “Walking Back To Montefollonico”

Montepulciano

We visited Montepulciano a few times last summer. The first visit was brief, having walked there and knowing we had to walk back, we stayed just for lunch and a quick look around. Through the gate, we followed the Corso winding steeply up through the town, feeling hungry and exhausted, sightseeing long enough for somewhere to rest awhile before heading back. We climbed all the way to the church of Santa Maria at the top of the town, only to return back down again, eventually finding a table near the Porta al Prato where we first came in. Continue reading “Montepulciano”

Walking To Montepulciano

It was a circular walk, there and around and back again, but I got carried away with the camera and took far too many photos, so it might seem we were gone for three days instead of just the one. We were staying in Montefollonico – this quiet fortified village, with its small medieval houses, is Sienese in atmosphere, and inhabited by numerous doves and pigeons – and from our terrace we could see the birds come home to roost each day, across the valley from Montepulciano. Continue reading “Walking To Montepulciano”

Trees: Irene Kung

I found a book under the Christmas tree, a souvenir of Italy. It’s full of spectacular tree photographs, apparently caught by flashlight; night-time dreaming trees suddenly startled awake. They are by the Swiss photographer Irene Kung –

“In my way of working it is possible to reinstate the tree to what I felt. That is exactly what I do with my work: I remove everything unessential in order to show the tree as it is, as I feel it. It is intuition, it is irrational: rationality can be misleading, sentiment cannot… I return the tree to what I have felt – its essence… A positive and fruit-bearing message in the face of crisis.” Continue reading “Trees: Irene Kung”

Season’s Greetings

This year’s card is from a painting by Andrew Walton, inspired by an ancient chalk figure on the Dorset Downs known as the Rowley Round Ring (Roll Around Ring), named for the surveyor John Rowley who, in 1710, first recorded another antique geoglyph, the Long Man of Wilmington.

The significance of this particular design is not fully understood but it recalls similar turf-cut labyrinths called Troy Towns, after the deliberately confusing construction of their walls, perhaps intended to keep unwelcome spirits trapped within.

Each winter, at the full cold moon, a blessed cheese is rolled around the circle by an eminent local cheesemaker in a ritual offering to the gods, celebrating the newborn baby cheeses.