Review: Harmonious Complexity

I enjoyed a visit to the exhibition Harmonious Complexity at the University of Dundee Tower Building.  This is part of a season of events celebrating the 100th anniversary of the publication of D’Arcy Thompson’s book On Grown and FormContinue reading


Grown together

Some more information about the Grown together exhibition in Edinburgh next month…

Grown together poster

click to enlarge

Grown together

This exhibition brings together 18 artists, makers, poets and designers whose work is intimately connected with trees and woodland.

Though their works span a wide variety of media they are all united by a strong affinity with woodland; as a place to observe and connect with nature, as a rich source of metaphor, as a place for reflection and healing, as a link to distant myths and inspiration for new writing, as a sustainable resource to work with.  For some, trees are their singular subject or their raw materials, for others they represent a starting point for their imagination.

Timed to coincide with the launch of the new national Tree Charter, ‘Grown together’ seeks to highlight the relationship between artists and trees and remind us of the reasons we should value and protect them.  By considering trees in new ways, we can learn much about ourselves.

‘To enter a wood is to pass into a different world in which we ourselves are transformed. It is where you travel to find yourself, often, paradoxically, by getting lost.’ Roger Deakin, Wildwood 2007

The exhibition has been curated by Tansy Lee Moir and includes St Margaret’s House residents and invited artists:

Lynn Ahrens  Charlotte Eva Bryan  Isabell Buenz  Chris Dooks  Anne Gilchrist  Aileen Grant  Adele Gregory  Full Grown  Teresa Hunyadi  Aliisa Hyslop  Alan Kay  Rona MacLean  Kenris MacLeod  Tansy Lee Moir  David Mola  Steve Smart  Katherine Sola  Robin Wood

Exhibition opening event 1-4pm Saturday 11th November.

Exhibition open daily 11am – 6pm until Sunday 26th November.

Events during the exhibition run –  to be confirmed.

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a tree speaks

In November there will be an exhibition at St Margaret’s House in Edinburgh called Grown Together. Timed to coincide with the launch of the Tree Charter, this will feature the work of nineteen artists with a shared interest in trees.  I’ve been working on video material for a loop which will be part of a small installation.  The videos combine ambient audio captured in some local woodlands with animated  text and readings of some of my poems from the small collection called Drawing breath.

Here’s a test piece for one of my videos.  (Please ignore the headphone graphic near the start – it’s just there to indicate that there is audio to passing visitors).

The poem takes a tree’s-eye-view of passing humans, coming around to memory and how remembering works, or doesn’t…

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Leaf

A visual poem for National Poetry Day, and for autumn…

 


the balance

 

                              the balance

                                              Fair horizoned photographs
                from trig points and summit cairns
                                                      fine and airy breaths of sky,
                                                                                         but something
                                                                        remains unaccounted.
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                                                            The way was not crow-flown,
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                                                there was weather,
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                                                                        sweat was
                                                                        certainly involved,
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                                                                                        and, yes,
                                                                                               there were
                                                                               sore knees.

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eyeline

I originally wrote this intending to send it in to Visual Verse for a great image of a horse by Bruce Connew. I never got around to it, and I’d forgotten about the poem until I happened on it today. Anyway, I still kinda like it, I hope you will too. As often from me, there’s also some sciencey inspiration – see below…

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Karen McComb, who heads the research group and co-lead author of the study, said “Horses may have adopted an ancestral ability for reading emotional cues in other horses to respond appropriately to human facial expressions during their co-evolution. Alternatively, individual horses may have learned to interpret human expressions during their own lifetime.”
Source: ‘Horses can recognise human emotion, study shows’ Guardian 10/2/2016

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eyeline

scary sounds tinder
my right brain.
my left eye
flares.

you. your voice. angry. anger. danger. is it?
do i? do we? does the herd?
set, set, set.
my heart revs.

a dren a lin.
ready, twitch, ready.
muscles cinch.
ears prime.

time made your mood our threat.
your anger the wolf on the prairie.
your impatience an adder under-grass.
your oath hard iron in flight.

so if you don’t need to, just don’t.
step calm. breathe gentle.
speak less. listen more.
hear. my. gaze.

quietly.

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Jail broken

‘Crow 6’ by David Ladmore. Reproduced with kind permission from the artist www.davidladmore.com

Constrained clumsiness
skitters in the corner of my eye,
irking like a bluebottle corked,
erratic flutterings meshed into
a five foot box cell silhouette.

I suppose crow smarts
finagled entrance,
then failed to find egress.
The track bears left,
I turn right to interrogate.

I twist the small door’s snib
with little further thought.
Perched on the threshold
he black eyes my framed bulk.
When I side-step, he gunnels out.

His burst plummets off-kilter,
one wing clattered perhaps
in thrashing runways at escape.
Have I just made a fast-food snack,
free to the quickest clench or bite?

I re-snib the door in stealth,
glancing late inside the cage.
Two wrecked hares gore-pecked,
half a smeary tub with water –
intentions here of some survival.

But what kind of gamekeeper
aids and abets a carrion crow?
Unkent to urban bumpkins perhaps –
a trapper’s ruse, a jig set to dance,
bait to snag a raptor’s gaze?

Walk on. Am I just a jail-bird’s patsy,
stumbling in imagined manumissions,
meat and water, caged as maybe? Still –
not half-a-second stood by unstolen,
before air was ripped apart in broken flight.

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