Spring is in the air!

 

The Celtic festival of Imbolc occurs at the beginning of February, marking the midpoint between winter solstice and spring equinox.  In other words, every day day now has within it more light.  The only way is up.

 

‘We have not long to love’ by Tennessee Williams

We have not long to love.
Light does not stay.
The tender things are those
we fold away.
Coarse fabrics are the ones
for common wear.
In silence I have watched you
comb your hair.
Intimate the silence,
dim and warm.
I could but did not, reach
to touch your arm.
I could, but do not, break
that which is still.
(Almost the faintest whisper
would be shrill.)
So moments pass as though
they wished to stay.
We have not long to love.
A night. A day….

 

 

Nathan’s inky blue urban evening sky, with its constellations of streetlights,puts me in mind of an astronomically-related artist we will be showing later in the spring. Once commissioned by NASA to make a series of cone-shaped ‘saturn’ vessels, Sara Moorhouse’s ceramics are a celebratory op-art vision of joyful colour.

 

 

‘Oriental thinking, and indeed all pre-industrial thinking, knows that nature may seem hard-hearted and her laws inexorable and often cruel, yet she herself is the very raw material you are working with, and of which you yourself are necessarily a part. You therefore always have to treat her as your friend, as someone with whom you must somehow keep on good terms, or else you and your works will be no good. She is after all your mother, not an enemy to be subdued, or a slave to be violated.’

– Michael Cardew

 

 

Another artist who will be familiar to Beaux Arts visitors of the last two decades is the indefatigable Anna Gillespie. Anna will be exhibiting in a solo show in the gallery this coming May.

 

 

‘What it looks like to us and the words we use’ by Ada Limón

‘All these great barns out here in the outskirts,
black creosote boards knee-deep in the bluegrass.
They look so beautifully abandoned, even in use.
You say they look like arks after the sea’s
dried up, I say they look like pirate ships,
and I think of that walk in the valley where
J said, You don’t believe in God? And I said,
No. I believe in this connection we all have
to nature, to each other, to the universe.
And she said, Yeah, God. And how we stood there,
low beasts among the white oaks, Spanish moss,
and spider webs, obsidian shards stuck in our pockets,
woodpecker flurry, and I refused to call it so.
So instead, we looked up at the unruly sky,
its clouds in simple animal shapes we could name
though we knew they were really just clouds—
disorderly, and marvelous, and ours.’

 

All the works featured above are now on display in the gallery.  Please click on images to go to individual artists’ webpages.
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Thank you as always for reading.

Aidan.