Just add a nought

Happy Birthday Philip.

(And let's hope you were six in that school photo,

not seven, or heaven forfend - 

eight!).

Now I must hurry away and make more chocolate-

related comestibles.

Culling

Can't linger.

I'm busy culling little books

and cooking for a big birthday.

Texture and pattern

This weekend.

Wasn't it glorious?

The rainbows are back

It's like sighting the first snowdrop

or the returning swifts

but trickier.

All elements have to be perfectly present

for the rainbows to appear.

Vigilance is all

because in a blink,

in the merest downward glance

to remove a lens cap,

they dissolve.

Art therapy

 The Wilton Diptych, Turner's Helvoetsluys,

anything by Van Gogh, (I rather favoured 

Still Life with quinces and lemons

in order to tempt Sue), and Velasquez's Crucifixion,

have each had votes so far.
Further nominations are for
The Graham Children by Hogarth and 
The Madonna with the Iris by Dürer.

None of the downloadable images did justice to them

so I have scanned a postcard of my tentative choice.

Despite Clark's assertion that the public did not want to see

Dutch painting or any realistic paintings, 

I see that in June 1942 they exhibited Pieter de Hooch's

A Woman and her Maid in a Courtyard

sadly not now on display, but I am frequently drawn to this:

and I think that amid the chaos of bombed-out,
blacked-out London,

I would have been happier to contemplate sunlit order

 than to wilt under the stern gaze

of Margharetha de Geer.

The inscription above the door translates as:

This is in Saint Jerome's vale, 

if you wish to repair to patience and meekness.

For we must first descend if we wish to be raised.

Blitz spirit

Whilst pondering the lowering effect of 

this long winter on the nation's spirits,

I found myself wondering how much harder it must have  been

to stay cheerful during World War II,

and yet we are portrayed in newsreels as a resilient and 

cheerful bunch even during the Blitz.

This British Council film is fairly typical:

http://film.britishcouncil.org/london-1942

The National Gallery in London had been putting on 

morale boosting concerts by Myra Hess since 1939, 

and visitors couldn't help noticing

the bare walls where pictures had been 

evacuated for safety to Wales.

It was decided that the public should have access to 

great pictures even in the most difficult circumstances.

Kenneth Clark said that the difficulties, 

'must be weighed against the delight and refreshment 

which the sight of a great picture would give'.

One picture was to be displayed every three weeks.

The Met Office weather report for February 1942

notes that the month was,
'remarkable for its persistently cold character'.
In England and Wales,
'sunshine was considerably below average on the whole;
in eastern districts it was particularly scanty'.

What did they choose for the aesthetic refreshment of Londoners?

Letters sent in by members of the public had made it,

'perfectly clear that people do not want to see Dutch painting

or realistic painting of any kind;

no doubt at the present time they are anxious to contemplate 

a nobler order of humanity'.

They chose the newly acquired portrait of 
Margaretha de Geer by Rembrandt.

She was the wife of a wealthy merchant Jacob Trip

who had made his fortune from mining,

manufacturing iron and trading with armaments.

She was displayed each day between January and March 1942
and placed in secure storage each night.
On a persistently cold day in February 2013

I stood myself in front of her.

The gallery was quiet, it was near closing time

and most of the visitors had been 

gently herded towards the exits.

We contemplated one another.

I could not honestly say I felt delighted.

In February 1943 they showed Constable's The Hay Wain.

Next time I visit, I am going to have to make my own selection.
Which National Gallery painting would lift your spirits?

Just add sun

It was a small hopeful sign yesterday.

Hopes dashed again with the reappearance of 

the dreariest sort of snow this morning.

Et lux perpetua

We're going to another performance of Mozart's Requiem tonight.

It's a new hobby. Requiem collecting.

Paperchase

This sweet film is blowing about the internet,

but my thanks to Isabelle's daughter 

for providing a link that worked.

My little menagerie

What did I do when the sun made a brief appearance?

Why naturally I arranged my lead animals

on the side of the bath

and took some pictures of them.

R.I.P January.

We are going to hear Mozart's Requiem tonight.

I already have tuba mirum on the brain.

Unconfined

At last. 

Blue skies, the sun

(and the wind) at our backs,

and tramping about all day 
in the wide open spaces.

It's very hard to see,

but if you look carefully, bottom left in silhouette,

you will see the quiff of a pink cheeked cockatiel,

perhaps regretting its bid for freedom.

Sleep lovely sleep

She slept till very late the next morning -

a lovely sleep, all the time she felt as if

she was sliding between glass and water.

The Rising Tide Molly Keane

Here's hoping.

A Winter's Morning

A sky like a dirty old slate. Trees untidy,

lead-coloured brushes against it. 

The air full of snow and rain and the hour full of

the absurd necessity of going out hunting.

At such a moment there is one thing impossible

and that is to see a summer's day.

White flowers in the evening seem the only terms

in which it can become remotely visible.

Say, stephanotis in darkness.

I stare at the garden and will myself to think
of strolling out there in sandals to sit on the swing seat,
(its canopy now sagging with snow),
to shelter from a blistering sun,
and worry a little about a hose pipe ban.
I cannot even picture the flowering tulips and alliums
which I know I have planted.
It isn't possible that this winter will ever end.

But every season is the same. Immutable.
I would not be able to see a winter's day
from my hammock under the apple tree.
Impossible to think of being inside 
with curtains drawn at 4 p.m.
 Molly Keane knew that too 
and that makes it seem more bearable.

The Rising Tide 1937

Blues

I'm looking forward to having 

some colour back again.

 Seems I've got freezing fog on the brain.

Need to get the blood flowing in my veins.

Snow trio

We came across this quite impressive

group of snow men and women

on a short foray out into the blue white evening.
They stood sentinel in a triangle
in an otherwise deserted field.

A walk on the beach

A walk on the beach is never dull. 

You never know what is going to show up. 

 This was a bit different. 

A coastguard helicopter

close enough to blow your hat off.

It was the annual training exercise 

for Lifeboat and Flight crews.

Even on a calm day

you could see how perilous this was

as they lowered crew members into the tiny lifeboat

and winched them back up again.

And in the bitter cold,

I felt profoundly grateful to the volunteers

who gave up their Sunday

to train to save lives at sea.