London Art Fair 16-21 January
Christmas trees have come down, twelfth night has come and gone, as has the feast of the epiphany. Family gatherings have been enjoyed or survived or both. So for fathers and daughters…
Gregory Orr ‘Father’s Song’Yesterday, against admonishment, my daughter balanced on the couch back, fell and cut her mouth. Because I saw it happen I knew she was not hurt, and yet a child’s blood so red it stops a father’s heart. My daughter cried her tears; I held some ice against her lip. That was the end of it. Round and round: bow and kiss. I try to teach her caution; she tries to teach me risk And as we prepare for the London Art Fair, a self-portrait of the artist as a father…
And an oft-quoted passage from Twelfth Night‘If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again! it had a dying fall: O, it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more: ‘Tis not so sweet now as it was before. O spirit of love! how quick and fresh art thou, That, notwithstanding thy capacity Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there, Of what validity and pitch soe’er, But falls into abatement and low price, Even in a minute: so full of shapes is fancy That it alone is high fantastical’ We will have a limited amount of new work at London Art Fair by the phenomenon that is Akiko Hirai.
Fresh from her exhibition at Louvre-Lens, the centrepiece of our presentation at the art fair will be a brand new larger than life-size bronze sculpture by Beth Carter (to be unveiled for the first time at the fair).
The Faun in the image below is pictured admiring the fritillaries in the beautiful gardens of Iford Manor outside Bath.
And finally, on these dark nights walking home I try and take Wendell Berry’s advice and enjoy the dark. If I am lucky a tawny owl will break the silence. Yesterday evening we also had our first scant flurries of snow…‘Snowy Night’ by Mary Oliver
‘Last night, an owlin the blue dark tossed an indeterminate number of carefully shaped sounds into the world, in which, a quarter of a mile away, I happened to be standing. I couldn’t tell which one it was – the barred or the great-horned ship of the air – it was that distant. But, anyway, aren’t there moments that are better than knowing something, and sweeter? Snow was falling, so much like stars filling the dark trees that one could easily imagine its reason for being was nothing more than prettiness. I suppose if this were someone else’s story they would have insisted on knowing whatever is knowable – would have hurried over the fields to name it – the owl, I mean. But it’s mine, this poem of the night, and I just stood there, listening and holding out my hands to the soft glitter falling through the air. I love this world, but not for its answers. And I wish good luck to the owl, whatever its name – and I wish great welcome to the snow, whatever its severe and comfortless and beautiful meaning.’
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We have a limited number of tickets for London Art Fair still available. It takes place from 16- 21 January at the Business Design Centre in Upper Street, Islington. Please message back if you would like a ticket. The gallery is open as normal, 10-5 Monday to Saturday.Thanks as always for reading. Aidan.