appArt Art & Sculpture Exhibition 2012

This weekend saw the close of the appArt Art and Sculpture Trail at my local garden centre.  I didn't have a lot of time to look around, but it was great to see some local art in such an idyllic setting. I can't deny there were some beautiful paintings – but for me, it was the sculpture that really stole the show. 

Carlos Dare's Fox

There were two stand-out sculptors for me. The first was the self-taught Carlos Dare, whose menagerie of aluminium animals was particularly striking. They somehow managed to be cute and menacing in equal measure, and an example of industrialism meeting nature like I've never seen before. I was surprised to find that a Google search on Dare when I got home brought up one particularly scathing Guardian review, which I can only put down to the most noxious kind of art snobbery. I certainly don't claim to be an expert, but I do know that the crowd around Dare's sculptures the day I visited was unrivaled anywhere else in the exhibition. I also know that if I'd spent too much longer there I may well have ended up with a vulpine addition to my own garden.

Snowy Owl Pair by Daren Greenhow

The other sculptor whose work I know I could happily live with is Daren Greenhow. And I know this because I already do. I currently have an impressive bald eagle made from bicycle parts perched on a border fork in my conservatory. The intention was for him to relocate outside in the summer, but I'm not sure that summer ever really came this year, so no-one's had the heart to put him out yet. He could easily have ended up with a couple of new friends in this pair of gear-sprocket snowy owls. I absolutely love them, and to make something so characterful from something so functional is an art in itself. I can't wait to see what else Greenhow comes up with in the future.

Postcard Art I: Jurek Nems

Ever since I started Postrcrossing a few months ago, I have found myself getting more and more frustrated with the quality of the postcards available in the shops. I know there are some amazing artists and photographers out there, and yet most of the postcards I see are either painfully tacky or seriously outdated, low-res images that I would be embarrassed to send.

I can’t understand why there isn't more focus on getting some great postcard lines on the market. I mean, these are cards that are sent out internationally, to people who may know little or nothing about the country. They may form an impression of the UK based on this card, which could in turn influence their decision on whether or not to visit. I genuinely believe we are missing a huge tourism marketing opportunity here. I remember when I was young I tore out a series of photos from an old issue of National Geographic. They showed an idyllically snowy Toronto scene, with children making hand prints in steamed-up windows, and carefree residents skating down the frozen river. From that point on I wanted to visit. I’ll admit I haven’t made that trip yet…but I will. And all because of a few great photos. The point is, you shouldn't underestimate the persuasive power of images.

That’s why I was so excited to find these gorgeous London postcards while wandering down the Southbank this weekend. Photographed and hand processed by Jurek Nems, they are striking and modern, while still focussing on the traditional landmarks and icons associated with the City. He even makes the typical dark clouds and rain of London look moody and artistic.  Finally some postcards I will be proud to send.....if I can bear to part with them, that is.

National Poetry Day

On National Poetry Day, how can you fail to have a 'what's your favourite poem' discussion?

Unfortunately for fans of brevity, I'm not one to pin myself down to having a favourite one of anything....especially in such a diverse area as the arts. I couldn't pick a favourite poem any more than I could pick a favourite film, or piece of music. It depends entirely on my mood. I have fond memories of some of the poems from the shelves full of poetry books I had as a child. Back then I unashamedly devoured poetry. I think I must have asked my parents for a new poetry book for every Christmas, birthday, and with every new issue of the Puffin Post at school.  There was Please Mrs Butler (Nobody leave the room / Everyone listen to me / We had ten pairs of scissors / At half-past two / And now there's only three), Roger McGough's Imaginary Menagerie, Robert Louis Stevenson's A Garden of Verses, and countless others I've long-forgotten. And I even remember raiding boxes of my parents' old books where I was delighted to discover Pam Ayres Thoughts of a Late Night Knitter.

Unfortunately, I think studying poetry at school took away some of the magic for me. Analysing one war poem in painstaking detail for two hours just doesn't hold the same appeal as dipping into a book of light-hearted, neatly-rhyming verse.  I like poems that rhyme, and I don't care who knows it! To this day, it still makes me smile when things rhyme, especially unintentionally.

But, there have been one or two poems since those days that have struck a chord with me. One of those is Seamus Heaney's Scaffolding, which describes perfectly the way I feel about true friendship, and is a definite contender for the title of favourite:

Masons, when they start upon a building,

Are careful to test out the scaffolding;

Make sure that planks won’t slip at busy points,

Secure all ladders, tighten bolted joints.

And yet all this comes down when the job’s done

Showing off walls of sure and solid stone.

So if, my dear, there sometimes seem to be

Old bridges breaking between you and me

Never fear. We may let the scaffolds fall

Confident that we have built our wall.

And if you don't like that one, maybe you'll like my mum's favourite poem:

There was a man who always wore, A saucepan on his head.
I asked him what he did it for - ‘I don’t know why,’ he said.
‘It always makes my ears so sore, I am a foolish man.
I think I’ll have to take it off and wear a frying pan.