White space

I met a friend in Leeds recently and we visited the civic art gallery. It happened to be one of those interludes between major exhibitions so there wasn't a huge amount to see. We did, however, venture upstairs to a small sculpture gallery, passing through this amazing empty white space. The gallery attendant gave us a long explanation of how the building has changed over the years. When it was built, it had a two storey high Central Court, a chamber with a glass roof, as can be seen in the pictures below, from the Illustrated London News when the gallery opened in 1888. (Image in the public domain.) Since then, a floor has been added and a false ceiling hid the glass roof, which was rediscovered and opened up in 2016. The glass was replaced with a special material that blocks UV rays that can damage artworks. 

I loved the space. When my daughter was small and I was a busy mum with a career as well, trying to juggle time, as we all do, I used to long to be in a plain white room, just me and a G&T, with little stimulation. This space would have suited me nicely! 

I tried an bit of an arty pencil sketch filter on it too: 

 

Grete Marks mural

Salts Mill has just put another fabulous piece of art on display. It is a ceramic mural, created in the 1960s by Grete Marks (1899-1990), a German Jewish refugee who came to England just before WWII. She originally trained at the Bauhaus. By the 1950s, she was regularly showing her paintings and ceramics in London, alongside Ben Nicholson and John Piper. 

The scene depicted is the old canal basin, which was once in front of Bradford's cathedral, taken from a Victorian watercolour by Neil Stuart Crichton. The mural was commissioned for the entrance to Central House, a former office building in Bradford. It was rediscovered, hidden behind a false wall, over ten years ago, and was taken into storage. It needed extensive restoration, which has been carried out over the last year by skilled ceramics restorer Fiona J Hutchinson, in a workshop in part of Salts Mill. 

The detail in it is fabulous, and the colours and textures are beautiful. It's a really strong piece. I'm delighted that Salts Mill's owners have had the vision to save and restore it. The text alongside says 'the restoration project was born from the determination of (the late) Maggie Silver (Jonathan's widow) and stands in her memory.'

Master of all he surveys

I've always felt the statue of Sir Titus Salt in Roberts Park should be turned 180 degrees, to face the huge textile mill and village he created. I imagine he was proud of it during his lifetime. Salts Mill opened in 1853. Salt died in 1876. I'm sure he'd still be proud to see the legacy he left, now a World Heritage Site and a lovely place to visit, to live and to work. As it is, he faces the bandstand and the long promenade on the upper section of the park. 

His statue was erected in 1903 to commemorate the 50 years that the mill had been operating and the centenary of Salt's birth. Commissioned by Sir James Roberts, who by then owned Saltaire, the Mill and the park, it was created by Francis Derwent Wood RA.

Autumn still life

Following on from yesterday's posting, here's my own version: 

The canal is littered with fallen autumn leaves. In some ways you could see them as an eyesore, cluttering the waterway. Sometimes though, I stop and notice how they've fallen, their different colours and shapes occasionally contriving to create an attractive little 'still life'. 

Still life

One of the galleries in The Hepworth was given over to an exhibition about 'Still Life', saying that of all the artistic subjects, it tends to be the genre 'least rated'. Often chosen in the past by female artists, who may have been tied to the home by caring and domestic duties, there was possibly an element of misogyny there. Anyway, it suggested we needed to take a fresh look at 'still life'... so I did. After all, it's still Life. 

These were three of the pieces on display that I warmed to - and I could see a clear linkage between them. The sea shell arrangement was by Kaff Gerrard [1894-1970] (and was paired with one of her war time paintings of bomb debris). 

The complex ceramic piece is by Simone Lyon, called Growth, Section II.  I'm afraid I failed to note the creator of the third piece, the colourful pile of ceramic 'seed pods'. 

 

Ronald Moody

I had not heard of Ronald Moody (1900-1984) until I viewed his work at The Hepworth but I was very impressed with what I saw. He was a Jamaican-born, self-taught sculptor, who originally trained as a dentist. Studying in London, he was inspired by the non-Western art he saw in the British Museum and decided to experiment with sculpture. He is most well-known for his wood carving, and there were several stunning pieces displayed in the exhibition. 

The elmwood bust (above), created in 1936, is called Johanaan, after John the Baptist. It references not only Christian heritage but also the ancient art and spirituality of India and Egypt. 

The bronze face above is called 'Madame de Muns' and the oak mask below is 'L'homme'. This shows how carefully he worked with the wood grain, using it as a distinctive feature. Here, the rings in the wood are centred on the forehead in the manner of a 'third eye', a symbol of enlightenment in Buddhist and Hindu philosophies.  

I enjoy the way The Hepworth often displays complementary pieces alongside the main artworks. Here is a mask that may date as far back as 1400 BC:

Henry Moore's elmwood 'Reclining Figure' was created in 1936, and is of a similar date to Moody's pieces. 

 

Igshaan Adams at The Hepworth

I was determined to see the Igshaan Adams exhibition, 'Weerhoud' at The Hepworth before it closed, and I made it with only days to spare! Adams is a South African artist, working with intricate tapestries and suspended 'dust cloud' sculptures, exploring 'the impact of lived experiences and trauma on the human psyche, and the healing potential of movement'. 'Weerhoud' is the Afrikaans for 'withheld' but what on earth that signifies I really don't know and, to be honest, I was none the wiser for having seen the exhibition. I did, however, find it very beautiful, both at a distance taking in the soft puffs of 'clouds' and the tactile woven fabrics, and examining the pieces at close quarters... a dreamscape.

(Read a more erudite review that does begin to make sense of the influences HERE. )

They are made from a huge variety of threads, cords, wires, beads, shells, fine chains and pearls, all woven together so skilfully that you wonder how anyone could have the patience and vision. I found it quite mesmerising and strangely moving. I'm very glad I went to see it. 

Part of me was smiling, as the suspended clouds did vaguely remind me of those balls of hair and fluff I occasionally dig out from under my bed!!!  But it was all far more beautiful than that. 

Return to The Hepworth

Walking in nature and looking round art galleries are two of the activities that bring me the most joy. It's well over a year since I last went to The Hepworth Wakefield so a visit (a couple of weeks ago) was long overdue. The gallery itself is a brutalist concrete structure that (to me) has a kind of fierce beauty, with wonderful light and shadow both outside and in. The windows frame their views like artworks in themselves. Set in a garden designed by Tom Stuart-Smith, it's somewhere I always delight in exploring... and that's even before you get to their world-class exhibitions. 

It is, of course, named after the sculptor Dame Barbara Hepworth (1903-1975), who was born in Wakefield, and it holds a permanent collection of her sculptures, drawings and maquettes. It also houses Wakefield's art collection and hosts significant exhibitions, art fairs and markets. It's a wonderful place that I feel privileged to live near enough to visit. 

 

Moonrise

Late autumn and we've had one of those 'super moons' that look so big and bright. Phone shots (which these are) don't really show it effectively but, on one of my walks, I caught it rising behind Salts Mill. 

Now that the leaves have mostly fallen, you can see much more of the New Mill, with its ornate Italianate chimney. Now converted into offices and flats, it remains a testament to Sir Titus Salt's grand vision and achievement in creating Saltaire. 

Late autumn

I think it's been a good year around here for autumn colour. Sometimes the dull, damp, misty days simply serve to emphasise the golden tones. These are a few more photos taken along the towpath of the Rochdale Canal just out of Hebden Bridge.  

The narrow Calder valley has several watercourses running through it, not only the canal. The River Calder and the canal weave around and over each other along its length, which is one reason historically why the valley has been so prone to flooding. Thankfully recent work to build flood barriers, and the 'Slow the Flow' initiative on the valley sides (seeking to build little 'leaky' dams, to spread out and slow the flow of water into the streams and rivers) has seemed to have quite a helpful effect, so far.  

Along the Rochdale Canal

Like the Leeds-Liverpool Canal, the Rochdale is a trans-Pennine route and therefore climbs to a great height, with many locks - in fact, 91 along its 32 mile length. It stretches from Manchester to Sowerby Bridge (where it joins the Calder and Hebble Navigation). It was designed to facilitate the transport of goods between the industrial heartland of Yorkshire, Lancashire and the Manchester docks. It opened in stages between 1798 and 1804. By the 1930s, it was in trouble and it finally closed, unusable, in the 1960s. After many threats to build roads and buildings over it, leading to the formation of various pressure groups and many local fights, it was gradually reopened in stages, until in 2002 the whole length was once again navigable. Like the Leeds-Liverpool, its viability is still fragile owing to issues with water supply, lack of funding and deterioration of the structure and the locks.  Who knows what will happen to these brave reminders of our industrial past? Personally, I love the scenery and stories of our canals and fervently hope they will continue for boaters and walkers to enjoy. 

A buddha on a boat struck me as very 'Hebden Bridge'. It's long been an 'alternative' place, beloved of hippies, arty types and those in search of a certain kind of freedom and peace. 

Hebden Bridge

On Remembrance Sunday, in the relentless drizzle, I decided to make the most of the atmospheric conditions with a walk along the Rochdale Canal in Hebden Bridge. (I am, as you know, quite partial to a walk along a canal towpath! 😉 ) The view above is the iconic panorama, looking east from the bridge near the centre of the town. Whoever had the idea of painting those windows frames, in the weaver's cottages backing on to the canal, in different colours was a genius! 

The building with the chimney (above) was once a mill, but was damaged in a fire in 1964. It was rebuilt around the chimney and now serves as a nursery, where my younger granddaughter happily spent some of her pre-school years. 

This area (above), in the centre of town, is known as Butlers Wharf, presumably at one time an area where boats unloaded and goods were stored. The existing building, whilst resembling a local mill or warehouse, may I suspect be a new-ish build. It holds retail premises, a restaurant and some apartments, and at one time the local visitor information centre, though whether that is still open, I'm not sure. 

The canal continues west towards Todmorden (and ultimately Rochdale and Manchester), passing various repurposed mill buildings and rows of Victorian terraced houses. It has a very different character from my local Leeds-Liverpool Canal but is equally interesting and scenic in its own way. 

 

The men and the moon

I popped out for a walk slightly later than I habitually do, but it was a lovely evening and I enjoyed my stroll. Sunset (behind me) translated into pink clouds to the east - and a rising, almost full, 'Beaver' moon. 

At the moment there are large scale works going on above and below the canal and alongside the playing fields, and the crews were just packing up at the end of the day. I'm not exactly sure what they are doing but it has to do with the drains and sewerage system. Considerable lengths of temporary roadway have been laid for the vans and equipment. They appear to be clearing out and relining pipes (such a stench the other day!) and installing what looked to be large concrete chambers, possibly for storage or water treatment. I may be wrong but I suspect the work has to do with plans by the water authorities to reduce sewage outflow into the rivers. There's recently been a lot of fuss about the pollution in our waterways. Sewage outflow is allowed when storms overfill the system but it seems that discharges have been happening much more frequently. 

Sunshine on Salts

Blue sky, bright sunshine - and Salts Mill was looking every inch worthy of its status as the focal point of the Saltaire World Heritage Site. Opened in 1853 by its founder Sir Titus Salt, and at that time the largest and most technologically advanced factory in the world, it brought together on one site all the stages of the process of making fine woollen cloth. 

It closed as a textile mill in 1986 and faced dereliction, before it was saved by the entrepreneur Jonathan Silver, who had a vision to turn it into a centre for business and recreation, with restaurants, shops and art galleries alongside the commercial spaces. It's still run by his family, though Jonathan sadly died in 1997 and his wife Maggie in 2023. Now their daughter, Zoe, is the leading force behind the enterprise. See HERE. 

Dancing light

As I walked between Salts old and new mills, I was treated to my very own light show. The sunlight glinting off something (either the windows of the New Mill or the water in the canal) made wonderful shifting patterns on the stonework, which then - rather magically - were in their turn reflected in the water.