Archive for the ‘Trees’ Category

Winter Flowers exhibition and Word of Mouth

March 17, 2018

On a recent visit to Edinburgh, I stopped at the National Gallery at the bottom of The Mound, to visit the Winter Flowers exhibition, which is organised by The Royal Scottish Academy. This is an impressive and varied display of current and past artists who have approached the depiction of winter flowers and woods in a fascinating variety of ways – watercolour, oil, woodcut and lithograph. The first picture below is a collagraph by the Scottish Artist Frances Walker. Using the collagraph technique, the artist gives the impression that this print may in fact be a collage when you first look at it. What attracted my eye in particular was the use of colour in the water in the painting, as it contrasts with the black/grey and white of the rest of the print. You really get the feeling of winter when looking at this print, which gives the impression that this scene, while beautiful to look at, is not somewhere you’d want to venture. When I was looking at this print, outside the gallery there were regular snow flurries sweeping along Princes Street.

RSA 1 Frances Walker RSA, Winter in Achnasoul Wood 2, hand tinted collograph o...

Winter in Achnasaul Wood by Frances Walker (Click on all photos to enlarge)

The second choice from the exhibition is Elizabeth Blackadder’s stunning watercolour entitled Orchids and Bananas. Unlike the print above, it’s not quite clear why Blackadder’s 1989 painting should be in an exhibition of winter flowers. No-one was quibbling when they came upon this work. It’s quite a large painting – 69cm x 102cm – and what you first notice is that the leaves, flowers and stems are portrayed horizontally. Maybe the artist wants us to look at the various flower parts as shapes, rather than actual greenery and flower heads? There’s a real delicacy in this painting, with each stem, leaf or flower perfectly portrayed. There also appeared to be movement win the painting when I continued to look at it, as if the constituent parts were flying past in a storm, and the artist had caught them in a snapshot. The orchid flower heads at the top right are so faintly painted that you hardly see them at first, but the closer you look, the more beautiful they become. This was for me the standout painting in the exhibition.


RSA1 Elizabeth Blackadder RSA, Orchids and Bananas, watercolour, 1989 69 x 10...

Orchids and bananas by Elizabeth Blackadder

Orchids and bananas by Elizabeth Blackadder

The final choice from the exhibition is Honey by Ade Adesina. The artist states that he sees his work as ” a visual commentary around the ideas of ecology and our ever-changing world” and how humans are affecting the planet in a deleterious way. This linocut is very unusual, beautifully constructed, visually intriguing, but also very hard to categorise. I’m not sure that I understand what the print represents. What is the panda pulling – a cortege of flowers e.g. representing the environment under threat? Are the temples on huge stone structures or the remains of mountains? Is the panda happy or sad or just indifferent? Suggestions please.

RSA 3 Ade Adesina RSA (Elect), Honey, linocut, 2017, 78 x 58cm, 2017. (Medium)...

Honey by Ade Adesina

The exhibition has now closed in Edinburgh but I’m sure that it may well surface in other galleries, so watch out for it and check out other works by the artists mentioned above.

Making yet another slow and fairly tortuous comeback on the bike this week, I was listening (safely) to the Word of Mouth podcast. This week’s episode featured Haggard Hawks a blog, tweet and books about obscure words and you can listen to the podcast – anywhere in the world – here. The podcast is presented by the erudite and amusing Michael Rosen, best known as a children’s author, one of whose books is shown below. The programme featured a number of words and phrases, the meaning of which is not always clear. The first word was fribble which means to “work feebly or aimlessly or to waste your time on pointless things”. So, we could say that most use of Google is fribbling? The phrase “to let the cat our of the bag” may originate in a scam in which people who bought a pig at the market and paid for the said pig, only realised the deceit when they opened the bag in which the pig was carried, and found a cat. The origin of “to raise your hackles” comes from hackles meaning the hairs on an animal’s back, which stick up when it is angry or frightened. Lastly, a schnapsidee is an idea that sounds wonderfully realistic when you are drunk but totally foolish when you are sober. Sounds familiar? Word of Mouth has many informative and entertaining episodes about the words we currently use or used to use, so put it on your list.


One of Michael Rosen’s many books for children


Doon the herber and snowdrops at Pitcox

February 3, 2018

In local parlance, going to or down to the harbour in Dunbar is known as going “doon the herber”. I was looking out to sea last week and saw 2 fishing boats approaching the harbour, so I went along the road with my camera. I saw only one boat, which was unloading prawns. The boat itself was covered in at the sides, presumably for protection, but for a photographer, this is disappointing as you can’t get a shot inside the boat. The prawns were on the quay in boxes. As the photo below shows, these prawns are heaped together in what some might think is an unseemly fashion. They are orange on the top and pink on the underside, with tails which fan out and they have spindly legs. If you did not know what a prawn was, you might look at this and imagine them to be an invasion of maggots or an underground nest of newly merged orange caterpillars.



Newly landed prawns at Dunbar harbour (Click to enlarge all photos)

As ever, when a boat comes in to Dunbar Harbour (good photos) and to harbours the world over, the seagulls are out in force, looking for an easily accessible meal. In our harbour, the majority of gulls in winter are herring gulls. In the first photo below, you can see both adult and junior gulls. The juniors are rather drab looking, with dull necks and spotted grey outer wings. In comparison, the adult gull (2nd photo)  is sparkling white and has the distinctive orange spot on its yellow beak. It also has rather spindly, arthritic looking legs and feet. Herring gulls can be nuisances in inland towns when they tear open food bags. They also occasionally steal ice cream cones from unsuspecting tourists who have come to see the sights in Dunbar. When they are at the harbour, they are more in their proper context, as in the 3rd photo, coming in to land on the fishing boat, hoping to find food trapped in the nets or trawls. These big, bold birds are opportunists at work.


Herring gulls on the Dunbar Harbour quayside


Adult Herring gull on Dunbar harbour Quayside


Incoming seagulls in Dunbar Harbour

I’ve featured the early snowdrops at Pitcox Farm, which is about 4 miles (6.5k) from Dunbar, on the blog before but it is two years since I did so. On a cold winter’s day, the spread of snowdrops under the trees is a welcoming sight, when you see their white and green patches on the grass, part of which is streaked yellow by the afternoon sun in this photo.


Snowdrops and trees in the afternoon sun at Pitcox Farm

Alice Oswald’s now famous poem Snowdrop was chosen by the Council for the Protection of Rural England in 2016 to celebrate National Poetry Day and you can hear Sir Andrew Motion reading the poem here (video). The poem (words here) views snowdrops as “pale pining” girls with their heads bowed, and “with no strength at all”. Looking at the snowdrops close-up below, you might agree with Oswald and see the flowers as similar to the downtrodden women in The Handmaid’s Tale (see picture). On the other hand, these flowers emerge in the depth of winter and withstand snow, ice and frost, so maybe we should view them as the Terracotta Warriors of the winter flower world, as they stand strong together in ranks.


Snowdrops at Pitcox

The final photo shows the snowdrops, along with the elegant birch trees beside the newly roofed cottages which are being renovated. Pink clouds in the afternoon sky can be seen through the trees – a beautiful setting.


Snowdrops and red roofs at Pitcox Farm

PS The blog is likely to be less than weekly this year as I’m starting a new writing project, of which more later.

Into the Woods and Watts Gallery- Artist’s village

January 25, 2018

Firstly, as a follow up to the last post on the T S Eliot Prize readings, you can hear Ian McMillan and the ten poets reading from their work here.

While were in the V&A, we visited an exhibition entitled “Into the Woods: Trees in Photography” and it proved to be a fascinating series of photographs. The date range of the pictures on view is quite extensive, with some recent ones, such as Bae Bien-U’s Sonamu (Pine Tree) from 2014 shown below. The information on the photo tells you that “In Korea, the pine tree is an ancient, symbolic subject that was commonly depicted in traditional brush painting”. I thought that there was a calligraphic element to the tree trunks and the trees in the background have a misty, almost surreal quality. It’s a stunning portrayal of an eerie looking forest.


Sonamu by Bae Bien-U (Click to enlarge all photos)

Further on the viewer comes toa range of 19th century photographs and the quality of some is amazing – see the website for examples. I picked out Edward Fox’s Elm in Winter, shown below. Searching for information on this photographer proved futile, apart from his inclusion in this exhibition. This scene was photographed in 1865 when photography was in its infancy, but Fox has given us a view over which our eye wanders – up the path, up and across the branches of the tree, and over the different parts of the house and garden. Fox captures the magnificence of the tree, which dwarfs the house both in size and in splendour.


Elm in Winter by Edward Fox

My own photos of bare trees, taken in Compton (see below) are not of the same quality as those above, but I find that the shapes, the outstretched branches and the entanglements are intriguing.


Winter trees in Compton


Winter trees in Compton

We visited the Watts Gallery – Artists’ Village on a rather dull and cold (for the south of England) day. It is situated just outside the attractive village of Compton in Surrey and consists of a range of buildings which house galleries, exhibitions, studios and a chapel. Our first stop was the chapel (good video), designed by Mary Watts and built by her and 74 local villagers, whom she taught in pottery and ceramics classes. The inside of the chapel is round, with religious figures on the walls and  a superb Celtic panel which goes around the chapel, part of which is shown below.


Inside the Watts Chapel

Outside the chapel, there are further intricate designs on the doorway and on the external walls – see below.


External wall designs of the Watts Chapel

The Watts Gallery is mainly named after G F Watts, the famous artist and sculptor, whose paintings such as Hope proved inspirational. Watts was also a renowned sculptor and was known as England’s Michelangelo. At the gallery, you can see, in one of the studios, Watts’ original plaster cast of Physical Energy (photo below), which was used to make the impressive bronze statue in Kensington Gardens in London. You stare in wonder at this sculpture, which must be 15 feet high at the top, as it is huge and delicate at the same time.


Plaster cast of G F Watts’ Physical Energy

There was much more to see on our visits, such as exhibitions by Helen Allingham (good video) and Diana Croft – no room for them here. This was a visit that lasted – with a tasty lunch – for 5 hours and it is superb value. If you are ever in this area, do not miss it.


Santa delivers, patterned frost and New Year’s Day walks

January 8, 2018

Firstly, a Guid New Year tae ane’ an aw (one and all) and I hope that 2018 brings you love, luck and laughter. There may be a Santa Claus after all, as I duly got the Canon 750D that I asked for. There’s an accompanying CD which I am determined to follow so that I can learn all the settings and use the camera to its best effect. I had my previous camera for 10 years and never got round to checking out all the settings. So this blog has the last photos taken with the now ten year old Canon 1000D. The new camera has a video capacity, so I’m hoping to feature some videos on the blog – another learning curve for me. As an academic, I read much about lifelong learning in relation to school pupils/students and now I’m putting it into practice. Stimulating your brain will not guarantee you a longer life – only luck will do that – but it helps to enhance your life.

Just before Xmas, we had an extended cold spell with some heavy frosts. One morning I went into the conservatory and the roof was covered in a heavily patterned frost – on the outside of course. People of a certain age who have lived in cold(ish) climates may remember looking at, and admiring, frosted windows with delicate patterns on the inside of the windows, in pre-centrally heated, cold houses when they were children. In the photo below, I can see ferns, feathers and seaweed.  The blue colours come from the clear sky above the roof.


Frost patterns on the glass roof


In the second photo, taken from a different part of the roof, there are more surreal images, maybe of as yet undiscovered sea creatures – there do appear to be a lot of tentacles. This might also be what you see through a microscope when examining some form of disease. What do you see?



Frosted pattern on the glass roof

On New Year’s day, we had two walks, the first along to the nearby Dunbar Golf Course on a bright, sunny and relatively mild (for Scotland) morning (7 degrees). The course shone with many shades of green. In the photo below, we were standing behind the tee of the 3rd hole, looking west towards Dunbar Harbour (good photos). Beyond the harbour, the volcanic Bass Rocks looms. The rock is bare in winter but is a brilliant white in summer, due to the influx of 150,000 gannets who pack themselves in to nest.


Dunbar Golf Course, with the harbour and the Bass Rock in the background

In the afternoon, we walked up to the top of Doon Hill with our older son who was down for the New Year. I’ve featured Doon Hill in the summer previously on this blog. By the afternoon, cloud had spread in and rain threatened and there was a distinctly chillier air 600 feet up the hill. There are panoramic 360 degree views from the top and the photo  below shows the view looking north west, with the sandy spit, known as Spike Island, clearly outlined. Spike Island was used by the army as a post WW2 training area and walkers there regularly find bullet shells. On the right hand side of the photo, you can just see the outline of the Bass Rock.


View from Doon Hill to Spike Island and out to sea

On the way down, we passed a dead tree and in the photo below, the tree looks as if it could be replicating the pattern of a lightning flash in the sky. An exhilarating walk but we were glad to descend, as the louring clouds looked threatening and the late afternoon temperature was dropping rapidly. Time to go home and enjoy a glass of good red wine on New Year’s Day.


Dead tree near the top of Doon Hill



Art in Florence and autumn in Binning Wood

November 24, 2017

So on to Florence for culture and an exciting football match at Fiorentina‘s stadium, with the home team winning 3-0 against Torino, having survived a potentially calamitous first 20 minutes. When you say to people that you’ve been to Florence, their eyes light up and many tell you how often they’ve been. It’s a culture-stuffed city to visit, with numerous art galleries, museum and public sculptures. This was my second visit to Florence – previous visit here. I hadn’t been to Florence’s most famous art gallery, the Uffizi, so I booked tickets in advance (a wise move, given the queues even in late October) for my pal and me. The Uffizi gallery is, like the Prado in Madrid, huge and has multiple rooms – 101 shown on the floor plan, each with many stunning paintings. If you started at the beginning and worked your way through, it could take weeks. The gallery helpfully provides a free “highlights” brochure and we followed this. The Uffizi is, again like the Prado, heavy on religious paintings, many of them dark and fairly morbid, although the artwork is unquestionably superb. One of the key themes highlighted is how artists over the 14th to 18th centuries portrayed the Madonna and Child, with Giotto’s interpretation (see below) being one of the most famous. Giotto was praised for making the figures appear more human than had been seen in previous interpretations and this was seen as a new style in painting.


Giotto’s Madonna and Child in the Uffizi Gallery (Click to enlarge all photos)

The gallery’s best known work of art perhaps is Botticelli‘s exquisite Birth of Venus (below) and it is a stunning work of art. There is myth and fantasy in this painting as Venus is shown being carried on a shell to an island. There is so much to see in the painting that you can stand for a long time, admiring the colours, the figures, the sea and the trees. Venus herself is portrayed as a beautiful young woman and Botticelli’s use of nudity was controversial at the time, as eroticism was not approved of in many artistic and political circles.


Botticelli’s Birth of Venus in the Uffizi Gallery

The 2nd major gallery we visited was the equally extensive Palacio Pitti which houses the massive collections of the Grand Dukes of Florence from the 15th to the 17th centuries. As well as the many works of art on display in the various museums, the Royal Apartments are lavishly decorated (check website) with ornate carpets, curtains, wall hangings and beautifully made furniture (good photos). Once again, religious paintings predominate, as was the main style of the times but there are also some eyebrow raising works, such as Marina by Salvator Rosa. The photo below does not do justice to the impact that this very large painting makes on the viewer. It is full of intriguing elements, from the light house on the right, to the ships in the middle, to the people at the bottom of the painting and the brilliant effect of the sun shining across the scene.


Marina by Salvator Rosa

Back home and a walk through Binning Wood to delight in the autumn colours and experience the splendour of the leaves still on the trees, although they were falling as we  walked. If there was colour, contrast, light and shade in Florence’s museums, then there is an abundance in this East Lothian wood, which lies just over 6 miles (c11K) from Dunbar. I had cycled past the woods two days before and was determined to take my camera before this autumnal outpouring of colour, shape and texture would disappear as quickly as it appeared. We began our walk on the west side of the woods and walked through to a point where the paths diverge (photo below). In the winter, my pals and I cycle through here on our mountains bikes and would follow the path on the right of the picture. On our walk, my wife and I took the left path, which goes deeper in to the woods. This reminded me of Robert Frost’s great poem “The Road Not Taken” which begins “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,/ And sorry I could not travel both/ And be one traveler, long I stood/ And looked down one as far as I could/ To where it bent in the undergrowth;”.


The path divides in Bnning Wood

Frost’s “yellow wood” could be Binning Wood at this time of year, with trees still holding on to leaves of different shades of green and yellow, as in the photo below. The path at this point in the wood was covered with fallen leaves, providing a contrast in colours, with the fresh yellow leaves on the trees and the now orange/brown of the fallen leaves, as well as the various colours on the tree trunks.


Trees and a leaf strewn path in Binning Wood

The wood continues across the road which leads to nearby Whitekirk (good photos) and I crossed to try and capture the thinner trees here and their shadows on the floor of the wood. The sun was still high enough to hit the smooth and elegant trunks of the trees and cast shadows, which appear to be fallen trees on the ground. Passing the same woods yesterday – 10 days after taking these photos – I could see more branches and much fewer leaves. Another 10 days and they’ll all be gone, so it’s good to be able to capture this fleeting burst of colour.


Tall trees and shadows in Binning Wood


All that Man Is and Cliveden House, near Windsor

November 10, 2017

In most cases, when I buy a book in a bookshop – I try to do this mainly, although I do order online as well – and read the blurb and the recommendations from reviewers, I enjoy the book, and mostly agree with the positive reviews on the cover of the book. I have just finished David Szalay’s novel All that Man Is but I found myself not agreeing with most of the review quotes. In the book, there are 9 stories of men of different ages and nationalities telling the reader their woes – often related to romance or the lack of it. There are some quite humorous scenes and there is no doubt that Szalay writes very well for the most part. I agree with the Guardian reviewer that 9 stories do not a novel make, despite the fact that there is a common theme of men in some sort of trouble and doing a lot of soul searching. I imagine that many female readers – as well as male readers – might find that some of the men in the stories are pathetic and need a good shake, although some female reviewers praised the novel. There are some very good passages in the stories and in the last one, the man reflects on how, to him, the present often seems to be impossible to define, that indeed impermanence is the only permanent factor in  our lives. Szalay writes “How little we understand about life as it is actually happening. The moments fly past, like trackside pylons seen from a train window”. On the other hand, this guy thinks he is old  and not long for this world as he is 73. My cycling pal  John is 74 and he floats up hills on his bike. The book was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize 2016 and you can read a very positive review of the book here,  so don’t let me put you off trying it. If you’ve read it and enjoyed it – post a comment.


In mid-October, we went down to by train to Thames Ditton for my sister-in-law Hilary’s significant birthday celebrations. We had a charming walk along the Thames, going through part of the impressive Hampton Court. On the Thames, we passed numerous house boats which were reflected in the river, and enhanced by the  backdrop of autumnal trees, as shown here.


House boats on the River Thames

On Hilary’s birthday, we all went to Cliveden House (pronounced Cliv-den) with its magnificent grounds and luxury hotel. The property was built by the famous American millionaire William Waldorf Astor, who passed it on to his son Waldorf. The grounds are extensive and on a sunny day, you can enjoy a peaceful, rural walk past the modern sculptures, seen here in the context of the grounds and then, closer up, looking back to Cliveden House.


Sculptures and maze at Cliveden House


Sculptures with the back of Cliveden House

Cliveden House is historically best known for the infamous Profumo Affair, the repercussions of which brought down the Conservative government in the early 1960s. When you walk down to the river, you pass the cottage where the affair took place. It was a lovely autumn day when we visited and we saw some startlingly beautiful trees by the river, such as the one below. You can also walk by the pond which has a pagoda, a range of trees and on this day, a very calm heron, seen below. Cliveden House and its gardens are well worth a visit if you are in the area.


Autumnal splendour at Cliveden House gardens


Heron at the pond near Cliveden House



Making soup and the Crystal Palace in Madrid

November 3, 2017

Back to normal after a very successful trip to Pisa and Florence, of which more later. There’s an old Scottish saying relating to being on holiday and returning to the usual routine – “It’s back tae auld claes and parritich” i.e. back to old clothes and porridge. It’s not cold enough yet for me to have porridge in the morning but a new pot of soup is welcome all the year round. Today, I was making courgette, and basil soup. It’s fairly straightforward with the following ingredients: 1 medium leek, 4 good sized courgettes, one large potato and dried basil. Now I know that a good many people who read this blog will call courgettes zucchinis. This source claims that there are differences between the two e.g. that courgettes are smaller than zucchinis, but I think that the only real difference is in where the terms are used – courgette in France, the UK and (so the website claims) South Africa and New Zealand; zucchini in Australia and North America. I’m not sure about New Zealand, so a comment on that would be good. To start, sweat your chopped leek in a little oil, to which you have already added the dried basil – amount according to taste. In your solid soup pan, it should look like this i.e. a thing of beauty that might be submitted for the Turner Prize as a work of contemporary art, signifying the integration of human thoughts and deeds across the newly green world. On the other hand, it’s still a thing of beauty but a photo of leeks.


Leeks sweated in oil and basil. (Click to enlarge all photos)

I never use a processor to chop my vegetables. There is something calming about washing your leek, cutting it into 3 and then slicing it up, although this obviously has overtones of violence. Add the chopped courgette and, magically, you have another potential submission to the prize, representing …mmm you tell me. It now looks and smells very good.


Chopped courgettes and leeks in basil and oil.

To this, you add the peeled and chopped potato and one litre of the stock of your choice – I used chicken stock cubes. Simmer for about 20 min and take off the heat. I then mashed it down with a potato masher and then liquidised it with my hand-held blender, one of the best kitchen implements in which I have ever invested.

Here is one serving of the soup, with the chopped end of a 70% wholemeal loaf from Dunbar Community Bakery.  This raises another philosophical issue – what do you call the last slice in a loaf of bread? My wife would say heel, while in my family when I was growing up, it was always called the outsider. A relative called it the Tommy – rhyming slang for Tommy Steele perhaps? What did your family call the last slice? Another Turner Prize entrant – the four islands in the speckled green sea: the post-nuclear world. Discuss.


Courgette and basil soup with fresh bread croutons

For the final posting on Madrid, I swithered between the magnificence of Madrid’s cathedral – especially the internal colours – and the Crystal Palace in El Retiro Park, featured here recently . Having been out cycling this morning in the cool, fresh air and enjoying the autumnal spectacle of the countryside at the moment, I chose the latter. While walking through the large park, it’s easy to miss the sign to the Crystal Palace  or Palacio de Cristal, to give it its proper name. Once you see not only the palace itself but the setting, you cannot be unimpressed. The first photo shows what you see approaching the palace – a light filled building on 3 levels, with beautiful arches over the windows and ornate decoration around the bottom, a close-up of which is shown in the 2nd photo – here is a swan – like, mythical bird, with no feet and a tail of flowers.


Palacio de Cristal in El Retiro Park, Madrid


Decoration on tiles at the Palacio de Cristal in El Retiro Park, Madrid

Once you pass the entrance to the palace, which has been closed for a long time for internal redecoration, you can walk around the large pond, with its fountain. You pass the tall, thick-trunked trees whose leaves differed in colour,  from light green to dark green to reddish-brown. You can then see across the pond to the palace. It’s a very peaceful place, made even more pleasant by the late September sunshine and 25 degrees. The final 2 photos show the palace from the side of the pond and from the opposite side of the pond to the palace. This is a slice of remote countryside which has been picked up and placed near the centre of one of Europe’s busiest cities. The Madrilenos are lucky to have it.


The pond, the trees and the fountain at the Palacio de Cristal in El Retiro Park, Madrid


Looking across the pond to the Palacio de Cristal in El Retiro Park, Madrid


Mantel on history and Constable and McTaggart exhibition

June 14, 2017

A very interesting article in The Guardian Review section by well known author Hilary Mantel. In the article, Mantel discusses “Why I became a historical novelist” and writes “My concern as a writer is with memory, personal and collective: with the restless dead asserting their claims”. The author cites her great grandmother as an example of a historical figure and there is evidence of where her relative grew up, who she married and of her 10 children. However, Mantel, argues “I have no access to her thoughts” and it is in expressing the thoughts and words of historical characters – real or imagined – that the work of the historical novelist is involved. Mantel also discusses what we call history and states that “history is not the past – it is the method we have evolved of organising our ignorance of the past. It’s the record of what’s left on the record”. My first degree was in history and I’m now doing an oral history project on my home town of Dunbar in the 1950s, so definitions of history intrigue me. I remember having lectures in 1st year at university where the lecturer posed the question “What is history” and referred to E H Carr’s book with that title. Much of Carr’s arguments about what constitutes history has been revised since the 1960s when it was published. In my own educational research and in my current local history research, I take a constructivist view i.e. that historians construct their versions of history from evidence that is also constructed. For example, in my oral history project, when I was interviewing people about visiting the whales stranded at Thorntonloch in 1950, I was not expecting the people (aged between 70 and 95) to report what they saw, but to construct the scene from their memory. My job was then to interpret what I heard in the interviews and newspaper reports and construct a version of events in my book. So history for me is an interpretation of events in the past, not a reporting of them.

An exhibition currently on at the National Gallery in Edinburgh features the work of John Constable and William McTaggart. This is a small but powerful exhibition with 2 outstanding paintings at its core. The first is Constable’s Salisbury Cathedral from the Meadows shown below.


Salisbury Cathedral from the Meadows by John Constable (Click to enlarge)

This is a very large painting and in the booklet helpfully provided by the National Gallery at the exhibition, Constable is quoted as stating “I do not consider myself at work without I am before a six-foot canvas”. At the time of this painting, landscape was not seen as a proper subject for artists and Constable was also criticised for his use of both brush and knife when paintings were supposed to be smooth. It is also very detailed and worth close study at the exhibition or online. At first, you notice the rainbow, the church, the large tree and the cart being hauled across the river by horses. Then you see the dog in the foreground, the birds on the water and another church to the left. What is striking of course are the clouds and their various colours and the threat of rain. Constable was criticised for his depiction of the clouds as it was a departure from the painting norms at the time. The booklet states “Constable created a varied surface where dense, craggy areas alternate with passages of subtle translucence and movement is created by the dynamic application and flecking of paint”. The more you look at this picture, the more you do see movement in the horses, the swaying trees and the clouds.

The exhibition seeks to show how McTaggart was influenced by Constable, particularly in his painting The Storm shown below.

William McTaggart

The Storm by William McTaggart (Click to enlarge)

This painting is not as clear as Constable’s and deliberately so. The first impression you get is of the flow of the water and light and landscape, like a lava stream. Then you see the figures at the bottom left who look desperate and frightened. Look again and in the mid to top right a small boat looks in peril on the sea. The notes at the exhibition comment on McTaggart’s “remarkably dynamic brushwork” which was influenced by Impressionism. There are other paintings in this exhibition by Constable and McTaggart which makes a visit to the National Gallery well worth while. As a footnote, my lifelong friend Tam, on a recent visit to Dunbar, recalled that my current interest in form and shape in art did not match my inability to create art at school. Despite the advice of our excellent art teacher Carnegie Brown, my attempts were hopeless. I still can’t draw for toffee but I have learned to appreciate some aspects of art, including how it is constructed.



Smooth tattie dreels and bluebells

May 3, 2017

My home county of East Lothian is often referred to as “the garden of Scotland” because of its rich arable soil. In the past two weeks, several fields around Dunbar have been transformed from being roughly ploughed and not very interesting areas, into mesmerising rows of tattie (Scots for potato) dreels (Scots for drills). The first photo was taken at a slight angle to the dreels and I love the curvature of the shaped soil and how one set of dreels leads on to another further up the field – and the 2nd set appear to curve in a different direction.


Tattie dreels on the edge of Dunbar (Click to enlarge)

The 2nd photo is taken more or less straight on and the regimented dreels look like an endless set of brown piano keys, which might play a song such as (appropriately for this blog’s author) Tatties and Herrin. This song claims that the “natural food” of the Scots is potatoes and herring – and the video shows the reaping, gutting and barrelling of the herring (aka Silver Darlings). In the 1920s and 1930s, tatties and herrin’ were indeed the staple diet of many Scots people. Of course, in the 1920s and 1930s, before the advent of tractors, tatties would be sown by hand or by an early potato planter and they would be sown in much smaller fields, compared to the huge fields we see today. I have planted tatties in my own garden this year – the first time for over 30 years and yes, my dreels are smooth. When the first nascent shaws appear on my crop, I’ll post a photo



Tattie dreels and the Lammermuir Hills

It’s May, so time for the bluebells to make their annual appearance and, for a brief time, be the dominant flower in woodland areas. A fellow blogger – Bookish Nature – has an excellent post on bluebells and she includes a lovely quote from Gerald Manley Hopkins and a clip from a Robert MacFarlane video, based on his excellent book The Wild Places. I ventured to the woods at Foxlake Adventures – as I did last year, to try to take better photos of the bluebells. The first two photos show the extensive bluebells among the trees at Foxlake. In some ways, the trees enhance the bluebells, emphasising their colour and showing how they cover the ground around the trees. The bluebells also enhance the tall, erect trees which are just coming into leaf, showing their mottled bark and their reach towards the light. In the 2nd photo, the sunshine has lightened the colour of the bluebells and strengthened the green of the new leaves. The bluebells will soon fade away but the leaves will get bigger and change colour to a darker green, so you have to appreciate the light green shapes that have emerged from the buds while they last.


Bluebells beneath trees at Foxlake Woods


Bluebells and trees in the sun at Foxlake Woods

Taking close-up photos of bluebells is something I find quite difficult but I keep trying. The first photo shows how the bluebell petals curl up when open and when you are looking down on stretches of bluebells, you hardly notice this feature, which is like women’s hairstyles in the 1960s. The vibrancy of the blue in the bluebell comes out very well here and you have to crouch down and look closely to appreciate this. So, next time you are in a bluebell strewn wood, hunker down and take a close-up view.


Bluebell close up

For the 2nd photo, I had to hold the stem of the flower and turn it upwards. Bluebell flowers droop down, as if the flowers are too shy to show off their attractive pale cream anthers which hold the pollen. Only the creatures that scurry in amongst the bluebells, e.g. the beetles or perhaps a curious little wren, will appreciate the aesthetics of the underside of the bluebell. Seeing the bluebells in full colour and spread is a heart-warming sight, as you can feel the warmth in the colour of the flowers and know that Spring is well underway and soon the sun will have real warmth as well.


Bluebell close up, showing pale cream anthers


Visit to Glamis Castle and Promotion!

April 24, 2017

On our visit to Alyth, after our delightful stay at Tigh Na Leigh, we headed for the historic Glamis Castle. The castle and the Thane of Glamis (pr Glams) is referred to in Shakespeare’s play MacBeth but the bard’s story is set in the 11th century and the castle was not built until much later. However, you will still be told that Duncan was indeed murdered in Glamis Castle, such is the longevity of myth. Glamis is not one of Scotland’s strongly fortified castles, it’s more of a grand house, property of a range of aristocrats over the centuries. The extensive gardens are certainly worth visiting, starting with a riverside walk. On our visit, the trees were just coming into bud and some of the rhododendrons were bursting into flower. We passed this bridge, with its elegant railings (photo below) on the way into a path leading into the woods.


Railings on a riverside walk bridge at Glamis Castle (Click to enlarge)

There are some huge trees in the woods and many of them are multi-limbed, and look as if they might consist of more than one tree. There are certainly some very elegant shapes to be seen amongst the trees. In the photo below, the sunlight on the hump-backed tree trunk enhanced the smoothness of its shape and I like the shadows on the trunk. The footpath is wide in the woods and the trees are spread out, so it’s an enjoyable walk with plenty of light.


Trees at Glamis Castle

At the end of the woods, is the Italian Garden (good photos) which is enclosed by thick hedges and contains a number of statues, as well as “two pleached alleys of beech” shown in the photo below. Pleached is a new word to me and it means that the branches of the trees are interwoven. As you walk through this alley and look up at the entangled branches, they have  a surreal quality, like an abstract sculpture.


Pleached alley of beech at Glamis Castle

As you approach the front of the castle, you can view the original castle and the wings and turrets built by successive owners. I don’t find it a very attractive building, as it’s rather squat and there are too many turrets but I’m probably in a minority here. I do of course like the stonework but there is no mention of the people who actually built the castle.


Glamis Castle front

Just outside the castle, there is a modern sculpture of Macbeth’s three witches, sitting around their cauldron, chanting “Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble”, although you have to listen carefully to hear it. The sculptures (photo below) were made from fallen trees on the castle’s estate.


The three witches outside Glamis Castle

We went on the tour of the castle but you can’t take photographs. However, you can see many interior pictures of the rooms – many ornately decorated and furnished, here. The tour is informative and you get to see a mixture of the old and the modern. As the late Queen Mother stayed here often as a child, there is a lot of emphasis on royalty near the end of the tour. As this is of little interest to me, I concentrated on the décor.

You might be wondering why Promotion! is in the title of this post. Those people who have had an email from me will know that the strapline at the end of the message and my signature is “It’s hard tae be a Hibee”. My older son and I are long suffering season ticket holders at Easter Road in Edinburgh, home of Hibernian FC and for the last 3 years, we have endured the humiliation of being in the 2nd tier of Scottish football (aka soccer). This all changed just over a week ago, when we were promoted back to the top division. At the end of the game, Joy was not so much unconfined but beside herself. There was what some people might describe as a religious experience as 17,000 Hibees (as we are known) sang out “Sunshine on Leith”. This rather dirge-like song by The Proclaimers (fellow Hibees) contains a rousing chorus, with “Sunshine on Leith” as the key part. This is because the football ground is in Leith (good photos), a suburb of Edinburgh – and yes – the sun really did shine on Leith as we sang. So, when I use my season ticket (below) next season, we’ll be back.


My season ticket