As I cursed the conditions on Cam Fell only two weeks ago I now curse conclusion and introduction (I swear loudly at and in their presence). The finish is (cartographically at least) proximate but it holds little current reality. Conditions are once again disorienting and deceptive. I am haunted by the shades to my sides that smother for my attention. The claustrophobia of the elements is uncanny. Awkwardly, and urgently, a pressure impels me forward as the wind did on Cam Fell; but this urging only forces me into wrong turns and faux pas. Briefly righted. Sgraffito word-steps suggest a way onwards; they lull with the knowledge that others have been this way recently and might be cautiously accepted as some form of guide. The steps are erased and Gates offer nothing but reflected light and a swirling influx of darkness. Slowly. The certainty of the one surface is found to be duplicitous, easing me into a world of reflected topography. I re-turn a place I do not know and try again.
The scenarios are deceptively analogous.
Analogy is deceptively scenic.
Romancing the #BritishLandscape: exertion as a methodology for re-binding with the ‘out-there’ Running with Intensity: machinic exerting in the #BritishLandscape Being in the flows: running Romantically in the #BritishLandscape -being-in-the-flows-|-running-Romantically-with/in-the-#BritishLangscape- -being-of-the-flows-|-running-Romantically-the-#BritishLangscape- -and-being-of-the-flows-[fold here]-running-Romantically-a-#BritishLangscape- -and-being-of-the-#langscape-[fold here]exploring the malleability of landscape, language and the creative act
-becoming-#langscape-[fold here]intra-rupting landscape, language and the creative act
has broken this blog (for now)…
Howard Hodgkin: Painting India
The Hepworth, Wakefield
1st July – 8th October 2017
1st July 2017
Darkness at Noon contained by ply
frothing green wings and sweeps From the Terrace Bombay
warped blocks of Indian Veg
new ply wave Arriving
acidic Red Sky green
knife cuts sky of Evening
frames, framed, framing
nail holes old frames
turned to face the wall (secrets)
smell of cut timber gestures
Postscript: I’m pleased to hear that The Hepworth has won Art Fund Museum of Year 2017.