In the beginning there was landscape, then came life, then life developed rituals (Dogs going round in circles before lying down, Elephants visiting the remains of dead relatives), then creatures made things and altered the landscape (nests, burrows, display sites), then humans started taking these things a lot further.
We have been altering the landscape and making art since pre-history. The sculpture park is a piece of altered landscape, that is a display site and a piece of show-off theatre, that is now also a place to see works of art.
I am just about to start giving Art and Landscape tours of the Park again. Here is the old document for the tour. A new one is on its way.
Addendum to the text below. Since this I have had all sorts of nuisance health problems, such as a failed hip replacement, but I now know that practice has enabled me to ensure that I generally make a better fist of painting such as this example. So the heading is even more apt four years later.
As we enter Covid Tier 3 and full England Lockdown threatens, I resolve to get back to painting, but I have hit a block. I have just decided I don’t like one I did before and taken it off the wall to redo and the sketch below is the last I did in Wales and I really dislike it.When I did it, Ruth went of for a walk and I set out on my folding bike for this spot. The gears suddenly stopped changing and the battery started threatening to run out faster than expected (I later discovered that the charger had fried three expensive batteries). As I set off it went a bit cooler and the wind really got up. By the time I got to this spot I was a bit cold. As I decided to pick an angle to sit and work from, I realised that, while the view was lovely, it was hard to capture on paper, because of the scales. Determined, I started and the water-filled brush I carry in my little travelling set decided to play up and wasn’t delivering water.I was sat on a 35cm high stool balancing a small sketchbook, a pallette, a source of water and myself as the wind increased. The sketch book kept trying to close and the tiny pallette lid kept doing the same, spilling my paint mixes into each other.Suddenly I realised that the tree I was sat under was an oak and was raining acorns down on where I was sat. and that the numbers were increasing. As I intinctively flinched when one hit me, I sent paint flying over the painting and had to rapidly find the rag to mop it up.I hastily captured some last details and fled the scene.The sad thing is that I know, even after sixty years of practice, I could neve capture that scene to my satisfaction. I am lucky that there are paintings I have done, especially little ones, that make me smile every time I see them, but there are more like this that sit there accusing me.Undaunted, I must pick up my brushes again. Maybe a cup of coffee and a few little jobs first.
My first time away from West Yorkshire since lockdown. We were down near Aberdyfi, walking, swimming, cycling, relaxing. Ruth went up Cadyr Idris and had other adventures while I sketched.
