Last of the Sabbatical Vine

Edinburgh in the spring is for lovers .. and lovers of all things cultural ..

Edinburgh is a city of fantasy and creativity, but it never forgets itself – it is built on solid foundations; a history of artists and pioneers, writers and warriors, architects and financiers who brought life to the Scottish dream; a vision of hope rising in the surreal depictions of past revelations of mystical charm and a self-imposed identity of strict determination ..

There are literally dozens of galleries both large and small scattered throughout this picturesque city .. On nearly every corner and down every alley there are renovations taking place to reinvigorate the old world charm of Edinburgh city centre, making fashionable the archaic crumbling facades, providing a focal point for the energy and enthusiasm of an influx of new artists amongst the often surprising and sweeping vistas ..

The National Gallery Complex houses a collection of Scottish masterpieces by the likes of Raeburn and Wilkie, as well as a vast archive of work from artists such as: Raphael, Titian, Rembrandt, Monet and Van Gogh .. The international exhibition currently showing is a comprehensive selection of work from JMW Turner’s Italian paintings ..

Designed as several buildings in Grecian style with Doric and Corinthian columns rising above a severe modernist promenade of restaurants and boutiques, the museums are set against a backdrop of parkland at the base of the ancient stone walls of Edinburgh Castle ..

Traversing The Royal Mile, it’s practically impossible to avoid the melodic wail of bagpipes seemingly spaced at regular intervals .. the high-pitched harmonics pierce the ears along every bustling avenue, pipers squeezing out an identical repertoire of ‘Scotland the Brave’ and ‘A Scottish Soldier’ to the massed tourists who clamber for photos of the men in traditional kilted Highland dress .. No, I didn’t ask what he was wearing under it!

I made my way through the crowded thoroughfare of Princes Street, past hordes of ice cream lovers licking scoops of tutti frutti in the sweltering sunshine, and found an oasis of calm meandering the peaceful scenic river walk toward the Dean Gallery and their outstanding collection of Dada and Surrealist works ..

After a perusal of paintings by 4 post-war Scottish artists, including John Bellany and Wilhemena Barns-Graham, I wandered the grounds and surveyed the sculptures of Sir Eduardo Paolozzi .. Here’s me with my old friend, his bronze Master of the Universe ..

Across the street is the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art; another magnificent Greek-columned portico temple of art .. Although there was a terrific exhibition of work by Vija Celmins, Andy Warhol and others, I specifically made this journey to view the extensive display of works by Damien Hirst, and was not disappointed ..

The butterfly paintings were awe-inspiring; the dead insects captured in glorious colour against backgrounds of glossy black and flat white .. the pharmaceutical signage of pills and potions printed on back-lit plexiglass, one of his large circular paintings, called a 'tonto', created by dripping paint onto the canvas while it rotated on a spinning wheel – much like a child’s plaything, and of course Away From the Flock, one of the early “animals in formaldehyde” pieces which helped establish Hirst’s reputation as a revolutionary and radical artist whose themes deal with death and the imagination of God ..

It isn’t difficult to imagine that the great creator had a hand in building this fine city, and although the modern street plan was laid out hundreds of years ago there are many dynamic and contemporaneous features that continue to add vibrancy and a sense of growth to this marvellous metropolis ..

Stopping into the Carlton Ritz I quaffed a cocktail and headed out into the gloaming for an evening of musical mayhem at The Jazz Bar – one of my favourite regular haunts in this city of spirits .. or should that be, this spirited city? ..

The sun hasn’t yet set on this empire of imagination .. it still resonates in the theatres and galleries, from the romantic settings shared by loving couples beneath the towering Scott Monument to forceful orators in the halls of the Scottish Assembly, from jugglers and tricksters tempting laughter and remarkable feats of derring-do on the labyrinthine streets to the earthy wooden-floored pubs and chic cosmopolitan shopping arcades ..

In my own time I will return again to this eternal city, knowing that Edinburgh will continue to hold a special sense of wonder for me and its many visitors from all corners of the globe.

London Lives

London is teeming with culture, and last week I had the pleasure of accompanying a special friend to peruse the galleries .. share a cappuccino in a lovely street cafe ..stroll along the Embankment and down Tooley Street past the old dungeon .. spend a bit of time carousing around the slowly revolving Millennium Wheel and past the reproduction of Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre ..



Yes, I played the visiting tourist in the capital city I lived in for 6 years through the 90s .. It was a time of personal growth and discovery – attending university, writing and honing my performance poetry skills on the Soho to Deptford circuit, regularly attending gigs at the 100 Club and dancing to Latin beats in Camden Lock .. I loved my life in London during those heady days of Britpop, YBAs and endless tube delays ..


The brief layover this past week included sipping wine on top of Tate Modern after admiring Rodin’s ‘Kiss’ and visiting the National Portrait Gallery to view the Gerhard Richter exhibition .. It was a joy to return for this extraordinary, yet ultimately bland collection of paintings .. including this excellent small portrait of the artist’s daughter ‘Ella’ ..



According to the NPG website introduction, Richter has said, “I don't think the painter need either see or know the sitter. A portrait must not express anything of the sitter's 'soul', essence or character. Nor must a painter 'see' a sitter in any specific, personal way” Intentionally blurring the image, Richter asserts no new idea and does not distract the viewer by imposing meaning on his subject. He avoids explanation and reason – leaving us with a subject and object based on formless feature, forcing the viewer into an investigation of elements of style and an examination of the relationship between photograph as evidence and painting as composition and content ..



In the painting “Helga Matura with her Fiancé” (below) we see a stark contrast between the woman and the man in the painting .. she appears composed, adult and confident, he presents as a young and reticent child, almost cowering beneath the feminine stature of his bride-to-be .. but, what does this tell us about the people in the painting – or of the photograph which was the source object? Is it all a misleading experiment in vague imagery designed to create tension and unease? We don’t know these people – and we know no more about them after seeing the painting ..



This ‘imprecise representation’ denies the spectator an involvement with the image. This distance between subject and observer creates a space where any interpretation of meaning is possible, yet ideas and narratives are impossible to validate. It is that very expression of intent Richter wants to escape .. As he was quoted as saying in The Independent, 2nd March 2009, "The intention: to invent nothing – no idea, no composition, no object, no form – and to receive everything: composition, object, form, idea... By painting from photographs I was relieved of the need to choose or construct a subject."



A particular subject chosen especially for their public persona is revealed in this painting of Gilbert and George from 1975. Interestingly, one of the most precise figures of his early work in this show. This work is more definable and attempts to juxtapose the identities of the individuals with their collaborative work as one creative entity. It works because we know the subjects, and we can understand the point, or meaning of the representation ..



That said, I would rather have been seeing a Gilbert and George exhibit .. Richter left me disinterested and uninvolved. His work is vague and nondescript with its fashionable apathetic mannerism. The portraits intentionally say little about their subjects, and that lack of communication of ideas and purpose creates nothing new for the audience. Technically, there are many better painters, and his disengagement with meaning flies in the face of human instinct and depth of thought ..


I hope to return to this fabulous city soon – for poetry and dinner with old friends .. but for now, it’s back to Scotland and another capital that awaits ..

photos of Richter paintings: NPG, London

http://www.npg.org.uk:8080/richter/index.htm

Signs, Shrines, Towers and Tributes

As mere mortals occupying a brief moment in the history of the earth, collectively and individually we search for significance in the shapes of the natural world about us ..

Symbols and signs that exhibit distinct geometric patterns, whether real or imagined, are a necessary part of our interpretation of revelation and social construction .. In the National Museum of Scotland, Edinburgh, this ancient stone shares etchings that I use in my own work - yes, I designed this piece long before I saw the rough-hewn Pictish rock ..

Leaving our mark and creating relevance from observed forms imposes our thoughts and dreams of permanence on this transitory existence ..



The Lionesque shape that is Arthur’s Seat has inspired many artists to draw on this familiar form to suggest a strong, brave warrior trait in the ‘Scottish character’ .. Yes, possibly an out-moded way of defining identity, but most people still assign specific stereotypical traits to ‘national character’ ..

In fact the ‘national character’ is exactly that – a politically reinforced sense of shared attributes that artificially bind a disparate group of people to develop allegiance to a creed ..


Ever since Ruth Benedict and other anthropologists approached this area of study for the US military during WW2 .. anthropology suffered a setback in universal acceptance of objectivity and the research into shared traits was denigrated as potentially racist and presumptive ..
.. however, we all recognise certain ‘home truths’ in regional culture, and exploit those similarities brought about by collective history to maintain links with the past ..


We design crests and shields to commemorate battles and other historical events .. we sculpt statues to honour heroic figures and manufacture flags to symbolise unified territories while perpetuating and propagating knowledge of a cohesive identity .. I carry this particular clan crest on my key ring – the family motto in Latin “pro libertate” translates as ‘for freedom’, or ‘liberty’ .. and has always been a significant feature of my own personality ..


We create headstones as burial markers to acknowledge the presence of a previous life and give notice that life has a beginning and a definite ending .. like this gravestone that carries an inscription for my grandmother and grandad who now occupy the same space high on a hill in the largest municipal cemetery in the UK .. I found it interesting that the woman who maintained the records was chilled by the thought of me driving to the furthest boundaries of the burial park at dusk - to wander amongst so many dead ancestors as the gloaming approached .. I told her I was only going to visit my gran ..


We build tombs to stand for all time as recognition of the importance of remembrance, giving weight to shape in a hopeful gesture of the connectedness of eternity, and we pass along these memories in the vain hope that succeeding generations will consider our lives as having had some value ..


On 11th September 1297, the Scots under the command of William ‘Guardian of Scotland’ Wallace, defeated the English army at the Battle of Stirling Bridge .. helping to shape the destiny of this land, instilling a sense of loyalty and character into tribal factions, and giving reason to others to memorialise and celebrate his life ..


Thomas Rochead designed the National Monument to William Wallace at Abbey Craig in the Bridge of Allan, Stirlingshire in 1861 .. this magnificent and unique Victorian Gothic sandstone structure is over 220 feet high .. needless to say the view from the ‘crown’ is one of the finest in the world .. you can see the likeness of Wallace sculpted by DW Stevenson on the corner ..



On November 30th (St Andrew’s day) 1893, a replica bronze by Stevenson of his statue of the great liberationist was presented to the city of Baltimore by William Wallace Spence .. I took my dad to see it when he visited Maryland .. the iconic image, 17 feet tall excluding pedestal, was placed on a hill overlooking the lake in Druid Park ..


One of the greatest and most symbolic of natural phenomena, a signifier of death and rebirth – a covenant of new beginnings and hope, can frequently be witnessed in ‘God’s Own Country’ ..


I captured this exemplar rainbow recently, over the town of Greenock in the west of Scotland, as the morning mist lifted to reveal a dark past creeping from the shadows with the promise of a brighter future .. a history and culture I share, and a dream I look forward to helping make real ..

Winters in Mallorca

A whole host of exciting celebrations and interesting events during the months of January and February welcome the visitor to the Balearic Island of Mallorca .. As an occasional off-season resident familiar to the island, I am fortunate enough to have a lovely place to stay with a stunning view toward the marina at Puerto de Alcudia ..


However, I am not the first traveller to have spent ‘A Winter in Mallorca’ – as George Sand (pseudonym of Aurore Dupin, Baroness Dudevant) and her children stayed there for several months from 1838-39 with her companion and lover Frederic Chopin .. subsequently writing the classic, if somewhat critical and ethnocentric book about their trials and tribulations during those less comfortable days at the monastery in Valldemosa ..


Thanks to friends and associates in the area, I have had the opportunity to witness several of the most fascinating traditions – especially frightful is witching night in Sa Pobla, where the locals dance round bonfires till the wee hours dressed as ‘El Diablo’ and Sant Antoni – the ascetic of the desert, and patron saint of farm animals who, like the Christ, faced his own demons in the dry parched landscape of the wilderness .. The ‘night of the devils’ fiesta was first documented in Sa Pobla during the 14th century .. Watch a video ~~~~>


A unique tradition to celebrate the feast of Saint Antoni on 17th January occurs annually in the Port of Pollença, a few kilometres along the coast from Alcudia ..


Early in the morning, after the Beneïdes – a blessing of the animals, a small fleet of fishing boats heads around Cap de Formentor where they locate and chop down an enormous fir tree (a very tall pine – which they call the Pi de Sant Antoni) and after stripping it of all but the highest branches, lash it to a boat and haul it back to the port, where it is hoisted up onto the dock .. the tree is then handed over to the young men of the town who ceremoniously drag it through town ..


The event takes several hours and is accompanied by much revelry and dancing with songs and music provided by the local Xeremiers: musical troupes that consist of bagpipes (which they claim to have invented), hand-held percussion drums called ximbombades and whistles ..


A main feature of the procession is the drinking of copious amounts of Tunel Herbes, a sweet alcohol that I was, only on this occasion, liberally adding to my frequent cups of coffee ..


After much mirth and merriment we arrived through the church to the main square Plaça Vella, where everyone partakes of a traditional lunch of pa amb oli, arrengades i vi (Mallorquin for bread with olive oil, herrings and wine) ..


The tree is then raised to a stupendously eerie height of 20 metres .. The young men of the town then compete to get to the top, where a bag of sweets and money awaits – it is a difficult task and many brave souls try and fail, either by losing their nerve, sliding back down exhausted or more often, being dragged off the tree by their friends and fellow climbers .. however the one conquistador who finally achieves the feat gains the bragging rights to remind everyone for the next year who got to the top of the Pi Antoni ..


December heralds the annual parade of giants through Alcudia – the old town proper on the hill, with its Roman ruins, Moorish walls and fabulous Sunday market ..


The family-friendly event marks a social revolution and commemorates the handing over rule of the town from royalty to landed gentry and elected officials .. here we see giants representing each of the traditional trades and craftspeople of the region as they march through the streets demanding the right to determine their own laws and be compensated with fair economic exchange for their learned skills ..


Accompanied once again by the Xeremiers in local costume and colours, the giants proceed through the narrow streets, past boutiques and cafes that fill with locals and tourists as they swarm en masse toward the main square .. (rather like the newly-established Derby Quad event which you can see by scrolling down to the next page)


Eventually, the giants arrive at the Town Hall to stage their re-enacted protest and claim the right of self-governance – here represented by the giant mayor and his wife .. after the obligatory speeches by the actual prominent figures of the town council there is more song and dance before everyone descends on the plaza restaurants for lunch ..


January 5th sees a colourful flotilla of boats that announce the arrival of the Three Kings in the Port of Alcudia – marking the visit of the Magi, the astrologers from the East who followed the North Star to find the young Jesus and bestow gifts upon this ‘chosen one’ ..


However, the most enjoyable days out are often in simply discovering the natural scenery of the island .. one of my favourite regions can just be seen in this picture as the ‘twin plateaus’ of a massive cloister of peaks ..


I often looked upon this mountain at sunrise from the north terrace of the penthouse I stayed in one recent winter in Mallorca, and considered scaling the heights ..


The Tramuntana Mountains range across the northern coast and have stunning and seemingly inaccessible peaks and valleys where through the strenuous effort of climbing and hiking one is rewarded with panoramic views of the beautiful island, and can gaze down upon the tourist towns famous for their magnificent beaches and hedonistic nightlife ..


Although getting back to the apartment on the beach at the end of the day was always a treat .. sharing with friends the sunsets and sunrises, caliente pan and cheese, a bottle of roja vin and a cool evening on the terrace ..