Pictures At An Exhibition ...

I've barely written a thing since the end of NaPoWriMo, just a bit of tinkering at the edges of work I'd produced during the NaPo challenge.  Whether it was a form of exhaustion at having been so unusually disciplined for a sustained period, I'm not sure.  I went through something similar once I'd finished my Open University degree: I hardly read a book for more than two years in some kind of reaction against the pace at which I had been reading - both for academic purposes and for pleasure - for the previous eight.

Anyway, as part of the Swindon Festival of Literature I attended a poetry workshop on Sunday at Swindon Art Gallery and Museum.  The workshop was led by Tamar Yoseloff, a poet and creative writing tutor with a particular interest in the relationship between poetry and modern visual arts.  Swindon Art Gallery is home to an impressive collection of modern art, purportedly the third largest outside of London. Most of it I probably wouldn't give house room to, to be honest: I'm not particularly into abstract art and even a lot of the figurative did nothing for me.  However, as an exercise in shared creativity and in finding inspiration in places I might not otherwise have considered, it was a very useful day.

There were a handful of paintings that I did connect with.  The moment I walked through the door, I was gripped by 'Descent of a bull's head' by Maggie Hamblin: such a stark image.

I was certain that this was the picture I would choose to write about when the time came.  From where I was sitting, I was able to look at this throughout the morning, hung alongside an absolutely massive canvass that, at first, I couldn't make any sense of ... and then it eventually resolved itself for me as Pegasus and some kind of turbine.  Actually, it was 'Hyperion' by Christopher le Brun, and the more I looked at it the more I fell in love with it, although I'd probably have to move house in order to be able to give it the space it commands - it's about eight foot by seven.  This is it:

I was also drawn to a rather un-Lowry-like Lowry: 'A Procession':

I'm not a fan of Lowry particularly, but I found this rather striking.  Possibly the contrast in the washed-out colours of the titular subject and the definite colours of the onlookers in the foreground.  It certainly sparked a very strong and forceful piece of poetry from one of the people present.

Anyway, once we'd been given free reign to wander the gallery and find our inspiration, I settled on a picture that I'd not actually noticed before, which was surprising given that it is quite striking and was in my eyeline all morning.  'The Tower Bridge, London: A Wartime Nocturne' by Claude Francis Barry.

Pleasingly, I produced a first draft in the time allotted and got some useful critiques and suggestions for ways to take it forward in the feedback session during the afternoon.  This is one that definitely has 'legs'.

I also bashed out something sparked from 'Descent', although it was nothing approaching the initial thoughts I had on the painting - those, I think, still need to mature a bit before they become what I first intended (if, indeed, they ever do: the creative process having a habit of doing it's own thing irrespective of what the artist/writer intended).  No, I produced something - a not very good something - referencing the Ancient Greek myth (this seems to be a default mode for me) of Ariadne and the Minotaur.  Interestingly, three others in the group had chosen this same painting as their inspiration.  As they were all sitting next to one another and very close to me, I have to conclude that the power of the painting permeated their conciousness' during the morning to the exclusion of all else.  It was, though, fascinating to hear three very different interpretations of their shared experience ... and to know that I had a fourth in hand.  What I produced on that theme was rushed and a quite weak, but I think will bear working on.

Overall, it was a hugely useful exercise: attending the workshop.  It's re-kindled the desire to write again; taught me the value of looking for inspiration in places I might otherwise not have; encouraged me to attend more workshops; and taught me the meaning of the word 'Ekphrastic'.  

Oh, and as Swindon Museum and Art Gallery will be closing down in 2014 and only a very few items from its' collection will be on display after that point, I'd just like it noted that I will be happy to give a home to all of the above works, along with C R W Nevison's 'Welsh Hills': rays of light as sharp knife blades or creases in a well-pressed pair of trousers: