Posts Tagged ‘landscape’

English landscape

10 December 2016
nodirection

Image: Richard Long

 

I am in Cambridge from time to time, and stumbled across the small gallery that Downing College has opened just behind its porter’s lodge. The current exhibition–its third–has borrowed works from Kettles Yard (currently closed for rebuilding) and Richard Long to create an exhibition themed around the idea of landscape.

Kettles Yard being Kettles Yard, there’s a fine selection of British 20th century painters here, from Ben and Winifred Nicholson to John Piper to David Jones to their contemporary Christopher Wood, who died young. One of the most striking paintings in the exhibition is by L. S. Lowry. He’s obviously better known for his industrial images, but used to retreat to Cumbria and the Peak District to recharge. The lake appears in several of his paintings and is likely to be imagined rather than real, a sense of a landscape.

Lowry, Laurence Stephen, 1887-1976; Mountain Lake

LS Lowry. Mountain Lake, 1943. Kettles Yard Collection.

The exhibition is, perhaps literally, overlooked by the Richard Long painting at the top of the post, which has been constructed on the end wall of the rectangular gallery space. I love everything about this: the Dylanesque title, the shape, the choice of typography.

Richard Long’s work has evolved over the years from physical representations of his walks and rearrangment of the landscape. The textworks, of which No Direction Known is one, internalise the landscape, as we always do when we’re out in such places: we are in the landscape, but the landscape is also in us.

Another country

7 May 2012

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I’ve had the miners’ strike more on my mind since I went to see the Jeremy Deller exhibition at the Hayward Gallery a couple of weeks ago, because the exhibition includes his famous reenactment of The Battle of Orgreave, when police cavalry charged protesting strikers.

So when The Guardian published some poems from Jubilee Lines, edited by Carol Ann Duffy (she has commissioned a new poem for each of the 60 years of the Queen’s reign) I turned first to the mid-80s. Sean O’Brien, whom I’ve written about here before, a child of the north, had claimed 1985 with a tough and unforgiving poem called ‘Another Country’:

Whenever someone sagely says it’s time to draw a line,
We may infer that they’ve extracted all the silver from the mine.

O’Brien’s poem starts with a epigraph from Auden, ‘Get there if you can’, the title of a 1930 poem. Here’s an extract:

Power-stations locked, deserted, since they drew the boiler fires
Pylons falling or subsiding, trailing dead high-tension wires;
Head-gears gaunt on grass-grown pit-banks, seams abandoned years ago;
Drop a stone and listen for its splash in flooded dark below…

Auden was born in York and brought up in Birmingham, but was fascinated by underground workings and mining machinery. This early poem – not included by him in his Collected Poems – was written on a visit to the north-east of England, where O’Brien now lives and works. It is one of several from the period that dealt with the decaying or lost landscapes of the early industrial revolution.

There are obvious echoes here of the industrial landscape that Britain has lost since Thatcher’s campaign de-industrialise the country (I use the word ‘campaign’ with care here) of which the calculated destruction of the National Union of Mineworkers was such an exemplary part. And echoes too, in O’Brien’s title, of the famous opening line of L.P. Hartley’s novel of loss, and of class antagonism. London, now, is the other country, as it milks the rest of Britain of resources.

But no matter what you do, history doesn’t vanish. (I had this argument once with an uncomprehending career coach who told me I could put the history I was embedded in to one side and simply ‘move on’ in the modern, deracinated, non-place manner. I was uncomprehending too). And this is how Sean O’Brien ends his poem:

Where all year long the battle raged, there’s “landscape” and a plaque,
But though you bury stuff forever, it keeps on coming back:

Here then lie the casualties of one more English Civil War,
That someone, sometime – you, perhaps – will have to answer for.

No matter how hard you try to tramp it down, the dirt insists on coming up through the roots.

The image at the top is a screenshot of Mike Figgis’ film of Deller’s reconstruction of The Battle of Orgreave, from the Bureaux blog, and is used with thanks.