Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts

Saturday, March 01, 2014

Budding talent

One of the many pleasures of blogging is the discoveries to which it can give rise. Last November, just before I went for my cataract surgery, I did a post about Bonfire Night as I remembered it from childhood.

In her comment, my next-to-youngest sister, who comments under the name of PolkaDot, promised to send me a scan of some sketches she had made one Bonfire Night when I was at university. This she soon did and I so enjoyed them that she sent me other drawings she had done as homework while studying art for O-Level.

Now one of the things I’ve never been able to hide is that the gene for artistic talent, handed down from our mother in particular, completely passed me by. My three younger sisters all showed considerable artistic talent, two of them studying it for A-Level and one (my next sister) at degree level. PolkaDot’s talent and inclination was particularly for architecture, which she went on to study at university.

I can’t draw a straight line without a ruler, and, sketched by my hand, a cow looks very like a dog, and vice-versa. I've been told many times that, with time and patience, most people can be taught to draw, but I still maintain I have the drawing equivalent of tone-deafness, which means I've always been filled with admiration for those who can draw and paint.

Apart from the two Bonfire Night sketches, the drawings my sister sent me are mainly of our childhood home and its setting on the edge of the Lancashire moors and I’m sure they will give you as much pleasure as they have given me. Remember when you look at them that she was 15 or 16 years old at the time she drew them and captured so well the people and places I knew and loved. 

My mother watching the bonfire flames

Looking down past the farm towards our cottage

Our kitchen - the heart of the home

Bury Fold, Darwen - 17th century farmhouse

The quiet little village where I grew up


Saturday, December 21, 2013

Nativity – Prague


Two Christmases ago, I shared with you one of my favourite representations of the Nativity. That year I had been fortunate enough to visit Assisi with DD and had also made my second visit to Prague as locum chaplain to the English-speaking chaplaincy there. While there I spent a wonderful day revelling in the superb collection of mediaeval art in Saint Agnes Convent and especially enjoyed the homely detail in this painting of the Nativity by an anonymous 14th century Bohemian artist.

It comes with my thanks to you all for your friendship and the pleasure your blogs have given me this year and my warmest wishes for a joyous and peaceful Christmas and a happy, healthy New Year.


Image: Nativity scene from the Vyššì Brod altarpiece by the Master of Vyšší Brod (Meister von Hohenfurth) circa 1350

Thursday, January 19, 2012

The world in miniature

The more observant of my readers may have noticed me saying more than once that I find blogging more interesting and enjoyable than almost anything on TV. I’m glad now that I used that qualifying ‘almost’, because for an hour last Monday (and the previous one) only the direst emergency could have dragged me away from the TV screen.

It was by complete chance that particular Monday evening that I switched on the TV to find that BBC4 was about to start a 3-part series on one of my longest-standing passions: mediaeval illuminated manuscripts. The series is called Illuminations: the Private Lives of Mediaeval Kings and has been made to link in with a new exhibition of royal manuscripts currently being shown at the British Library in London.

Each was an hour of pure bliss, as I watched the art historian Dr Janina Ramirez explore the world in which these treasures were made and the reasons for their making. The programmes are so good that we have recorded them for future viewing and I know I will return to them more than once.
King Henry VI and Queen Margaret of Anjou
As I watched the first programme I tried to recall when my love of mediaeval and Renaissance architecture, art and, in particular, manuscript illumination began, but couldn't. It may have been sparked by the mediaeval German literature I studied as part of my degree course back in the mid-1960s. If so, it lay dormant for the next few years until I qualified as a librarian and began work in a public library, where my immediate superior was an immensely knowledgeable collector of old and often rare books.

During our coffee breaks he would sometimes show me book auction catalogues, many of them illustrated with pages from the works on sale. It was in this way that I first learned about Books of Hours and began to read about them and the people for whom they had been made.

My own bookshelves tell me that by 1979 my interest had grown to such an extent that my mother gave me a beautifully-illustrated book on the subject as my Christmas present. I spent many hours reading this book and poring over the exquisite detail of the wonderful illuminations, with their jewel-like colours, lavish use of gold-leaf and fascinating glimpses into a world so distant and different from our own.


One of the manuscripts examined in the book is the world-famous and immensely richly-decorated Les Très Riches Heures du Duc de BerryI was so bewitched by the beauty and variety of these illuminations that at Christmas 1985 DH gave me a book about this one unique Book of Hours. The Très Riches Heures is deservedly famous for its wealth of exquisite sacred images, but above all for its extraordinary calendar of the months.

This portrays in loving detail the seasonal life of the countryside of the Berry region and the Duke’s court, from feasting at Christmas to haymaking in June and back again to winter, many of the images enhanced by the amazingly detailed depictions of castles and towns in the background.

February - life in winter
September - the grape harvest

The book DH gave me consists almost entirely of illustrations, with only the minimum of explanatory text. Next to it on my shelves is another volume, again a gift, this time a gesture of thanks and farewell from my former library colleague and friend, who retired in 1987. It is another splendidly illustrated book on the Très Riches Heures, but this time complete with a scholarly introduction and a much fuller commentary on the wealth of illustrations.

Taking these books off the shelves and looking at them makes me realise how much our interests and passions are bound up with who we are and the relationships that have formed us. Here are three gifts linked to a lasting interest in my life. Three gifts from different people, each of whom knew how much the gift would mean to me, each of whom has contributed, to a greater or lesser extent, to making me the person I am. 

These three books may stay on my shelves undisturbed for long periods as new interests come to the fore, but once opened again they still transport me instantly into a different world, while at the same providing a tangible link to some of the most important people in my life. Sadly two of the givers are long dead, but the first glimpse of their handwriting on the fly-leaf of their gift makes them live again in the little world of my memory.

The world in miniature…


Most images via Wikipedia, with thanks

Thursday, January 05, 2012

Epiphany celebrations


Tonight is of course Twelfth Night, the beginning of the twelfth and final day of Christmas, and tomorrow the Christian church will be celebrating the great feast of the Epiphany. However, for the Transit household tomorrow is also a day of family celebration, as my next-to-youngest sister and Grandson #3 both have birthdays on this special day. Indeed I’ve recently learned that DD’s mother-in-law was also an Epiphany baby, so it’s a triple for us. 

This is the reason why our family has always defied tradition and left the Christmas decorations up until after Epiphany. It just seems so mean to take them down the day before and leave the house drab and ordinary for their birthday. Well, that’s my excuse for enjoying a few more days of colourful Christmas cards, flying angels and our lovely little African crib set. 

DH is now enquiring plaintively when supper will be, so I will leave you for now with what to me is one of the most beautiful of Epiphany carols. 




Image via Wikipedia:
Sixth-century mosaic of the Magi in Persian costume
Basilica of Sant'Apollinare Nuovo, Ravenna, Italy

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Nativity - Assisi


Tucked away obscurely in a dark corner of the left transept in the basilica of Santa Chiara in Assisi is one of the most touching mediaeval portrayals of the Nativity I have ever seen. When I first saw it nearly 15 years ago, it was almost hidden behind a pile of stacking chairs and I had to crane my neck to see it properly. Despite this I fell in love immediately with this exquisite fragment of fresco, which has almost miraculously survived at least 700 years of neglect and earthquake damage.

To my frustration, when DD and I made our Big Birthday trip to Assisi in May, we found that the apse and transept have now been cordoned off and visitors can no longer get close enough to the fresco to appreciate its beauty. So, as my Christmas present to you all, here is the wonderful image of the Madonna and Child with angels by an unknown but gifted student of the great fresco painter Giotto.

It comes with my thanks for your friendship and company on this deeply enjoyable blogging journey. I wish you all a peaceful and joyous Christmas and a healthy and happy New Year.

To accompany my touching mediaeval image, I would like to leave you with this lovely rendering of one of the most beautiful and touching of mediaeval carols.


Sunday, August 07, 2011

Gosh – August already!

Help, where has July gone? Life has been so busy lately, what with gardening (between the downpours) visitors, our local fête communale last weekend (for which the sun shone!!) and now having Grandson#3 to stay for a week all by himself for the first time, that time for blogging, or even just reading my favourite blogs, is practically non-existent. So while he is happily chortling at Wallace and Gromit with DH, here is a quick sign of life from the Transit household and a promise to catch up with you all as soon as time permits.

For the cat-lovers out there I’m happy to be able to report that all four kittens are well and growing rapidly, though we very rarely see them all together and sometimes don’t see any of them for days. We were extremely surprised and relieved when the tortoiseshell kitten reappeared after so long. She has turned into a real beauty, with striking, black-rimmed eyes reminiscent of a silent film star at her most sultry (eat your heart out, Theda Bara…) but, like her siblings, is still ready to turn tail and hide if we come too near.

For art-lovers I have other news, and that is that we now have two lovely small watercolour paintings of our French house and the kittens’ woodshed, thanks to my next-to-youngest sister, who came with her husband on a visit over the fête weekend. On their last afternoon she sat out in the garden with her paints to capture her vision of them, which I’d like to share with you. So, until next time, here is our small corner of Normandy as seen through the eye of an artist.  If you look carefully, you may even see the kittens. J