Exhibitions galore

At the moment there are several intriguing exhibitions running concurrently at The Hepworth. One is 'Forbidden Territories: 100 Years of Surreal Landscapes'. I'm not generally a huge fan of surrealism but a couple of the works stood out for me, mainly because of the wonderful colours. Nicolas Party's 'Landscape 2022', soft pastel on linen (above), sings with stunningly rich colour. 

I also loved the way Max Ernst's darkly ominous painting:  'Cage, Forest and Black Sun' (1927) was displayed against another bright pastel by Nicolas Party. A very interesting juxtaposition. In fact, the whole staging of this exhibition is incredible. 

There were some rather lovely ceramics: Yellow Undulating Angular Bowl (2022) by Ashraf Hanna looked for all the world like a soft felt creation, very clever:

Ursula Morley-Price's 'Winged Vessel' (1985) was just delightful. The artist was actually born in 1936 but the Hepworth's label said 'born 1986', which would make this the most amazing creation by any foetus in existence! 

Finally, a Manchester-based artist, Louise Giovanelli (b 1993), has an exhibition titled 'A Song Of Ascents', with some large-scale, shimmering works - curtains (as found in working men's clubs and theatres across the UK), locks of lustrous hair and the reflective surface of glassware. Not sure I really warmed to these but they were certainly eye-catching. I did enjoy the way they were reflected in the polished concrete floor. 

To The Hepworth (again)

I rarely turn down a chance to visit The Hepworth (gallery) in Wakefield, so when a friend suggested going to the Print Fair there, I happily accepted. You may think I'm doing a lot of exhibitions and galleries lately. It's partly because there are currently a lot to see (Bradford being the UK City of Culture 2025) and partly because it's been so cold and dull that I haven't felt much like venturing out on country walks. 

It was cold and dull in Wakefield too but, with little wind, the River Calder, which loops around the gallery, had some good reflections. I always enjoy the random messiness of the old boatyard you can see from the footbridge leading to the gallery.

The random messiness of the winter-slumbering garden behind The Hepworth was also rather pleasing. The grasses and ornamental seed heads complement the sculptural artworks displayed there. 

On the far side of the garden, Tileyard North, a converted mill, hosted the Print Fair, with some well-known local artists displaying work. You can often pick up a good bargain in artwork at such events. I was tempted by this one HERE, "The first warm day of the year". It's by Eva Juusola, a printmaker based in Sheffield. I guess it reminded me of the way my grandgirls sit, drawing, chatting, reading.  Very tempting but I resisted, then I couldn't stop thinking about it afterwards... so I've ordered it from the artist's website. A treat!

GR

Our 'Royal Mail' postal service goes all the way back to 1516, when Henry VIII established a 'Master of the Posts'. The Royal Mail service was thrown open for the public to use (those who could afford it!) by 1635. The first mail coach ran in 1784 between London and Bristol. The first pre-paid adhesive postage stamp - the Penny Black - came in 1840. The first pillar boxes were installed across the country in 1853, bearing the royal cipher of the monarch at the time. It was always a public service, a government department until 1969 when it became a statutory corporation: The Post Office. Since then, various bits of the business have been hived off and privatised. It is required by law to provide 'a universal service' whereby items of a specific size can be posted for a set fee to any location within the UK, six days a week, but even that is these days under threat. Email and competition from private companies means the volume of post is diminishing whilst the cost to the user has risen astronomically. A standard First Class letter will soon cost £1.70 to send and a Second Class stamp will be 87p. 'Large' letters (not that big!) will be £3.15 or £1.55. 

I wonder for how much longer we'll be able to pop a birthday card in a post box at the end of the street and know it will be delivered safely, on time and direct to its intended recipient's address? There is talk of restricting deliveries, stopping Saturday mail deliveries, delivering second class letters on alternate days and all manner of other tweaks to try and reduce the business's costs. I note that my own mail often seems 'batched'. I'll get several items all in the same delivery and then none for days. 

It's a sad thought that people won't have letters to pass down in the family... no more piles of paper tied with ribbon, to delight a biographer or genealogist. Also a sad thought that our cheery red post boxes might be a dying breed. I'm not sure I've ever consciously noticed one like that in my photo before. Its very plain GR cypher denotes that it was installed in the time of King George V, between 1910 and 1936. I spotted it in Crossflatts. I guess postboxes are a way of dating the housing developments that they're found in too, so they have a certain value beyond their primary purpose. 

Sunday on the canal

It was a chilly Sunday, with intermittent light showers, but the birds and boaters seemed to have decided that spring was in the air. Over winter you don't see that many boats on the move on the canal but on my Sunday walk I was passed by half a dozen craft of various types and sizes. The guys on the Silsden hire boat above were amused to be having their photo taken and responded with some friendly banter, always nice. 

I've seen this boat moored in Skipton quite a few times. It has a memorable name: Pink Bitz. There was a young couple aboard - and bikes too, essential for getting around once the boat is moored up. 

Three young swans were quite curious about passers-by. Maybe they hoped for food. They looked like last year's cygnets, still with pale beaks and slightly mottled plumage. It was at about this point too that I was thrilled to see a tiny wren darting about. They are quite secretive little birds but very sweet, with their upturned tails. 

This stretch going into Riddlesden has some rather nice canalside houses, with pretty gardens. A few blossom trees are just beginning to show colour.  

A slow start to spring

A calm pond reflecting a string of lights along the entrance path, and a weeping willow coming into bud - a warm welcome to East Riddlesden Hall, our nearest National Trust property. Small and intimate compared to most National Trust estates, but nevertheless loved and cherished by local people. 

Its gardens showed that spring is on the way, though it seems a slow start this year as it has been quite cold. A sweep of naturalised daffodils looked really pretty on the grass between the Hall and the tithe barn. 

In the more formal gardens behind the Hall, bright blue scilla counterpointed the white hellebores. A flowering quince was just starting to blossom. It will have fruit in the autumn: tart yellow quinces shaped a bit like pears. They're not usually eaten raw but can be made into jam or jelly.  

Incidentally, this is the first successful 'macro' shot I've taken with my new camera. I actually managed to focus this one.  Progress...☺

 

Early music at East Riddlesden Hall

One Sunday recently, I decided to walk along the Leeds-Liverpool Canal towpath to East Riddlesden Hall, our local National Trust property. It's a 17th century manor house, extended and remodelled on the site of an earlier house by a wealthy wool merchant, James Murgatroyd, in the mid-1600s. In the 19th/early 20th century it fell into disrepair and the Starkie wing (below) was almost entirely demolished, leaving only the façade. The hall (though sadly not much of its estate and related buildings) was eventually rescued by far-sighted locals, the Brigg brothers, before being donated to the National Trust in 1938.  

My visit coincided with a performance by a local early music group, Dulciana. They were playing traditional 16th century music on a variety of authentic instruments including recorders, crumhorns, shawms, chalumeau and flutes. I enjoyed listening to them. The instruments take a lot of skill - and breath control - to master, but the resulting music was lyrical and soothing, occasionally breaking into what I imagined was music to accompany those stately court dances. It was a reminder of how music would have been a shared pastime for families around the fireplace in times gone by.

The instruments above are gemshorns, made from the horns of cows or goats. Below, the lady is playing a small wooden crumhorn. I always find it heartwarming when people, passionate about a hobby, are willing to share their enthusiasm and skills with others. It was most enjoyable to listen and learn. 

If you'd like to hear a crumhorn playing, try this video. It's a delight:  

The first spring-like day

I went with a friend to Cartwright Hall, Bradford's art gallery, to see the current exhibitions: one on Islamic calligraphy and, the other, some artworks from the Government Art Collection with comments by young people about identity. They were both worth seeing but didn't really enthuse me in the way that many exhibitions do. 

It was a glorious day with more than a hint of spring - the day before the equinox. We began to wish we'd set off for a countryside walk, though it was pleasant to stroll around the park. The banks alongside the main road are covered in crocuses, though we were a bit late to see them in their full glory - and a bit early for the daffodils that follow them. 

Sir Titus Salt's statue (1874), moved years ago to Lister Park from the centre of Bradford, might feel more at home in Saltaire. It is huge, reflecting the standing with which he was held by his peers. It is beginning to look a bit the worse for wear. The white marble isn't very white now. I decided a mono treatment showed it off better than colour. 

The fountains in the Mughal Gardens were playing, lovely to look at and to hear and quite refreshing on a sunny day, though it was still big coat weather as far as I was concerned. The sunshine hasn't yet translated into heat. 

Sheep

Fethera (above) and Covero (below) are two huge sheep sculptures, originally commissioned for a project in 2023 and now to be found on the Sunny Bank Mills site. Created by artists Anne Gaffikin and Dave Young, they're made from salvaged materials and reclaimed wood. Rather fun, I thought, though perhaps now showing their age a little. 

 

Sunny Bank Mill's archive

Salts Mill has a small archive on display but the museum and archive at Sunny Bank Mills is much more extensive, no doubt due to the fact that it is still in the possession of John and William Gaunt, owners of the textile mill, which ceased production in 2008.

In the entrance there is a Hattersley Power Loom, made locally in Keighley and one of about 200 similar machines used at Sunny Bank from about 1950 to 2008.  

In the archive there are thousands of pieces of cloth made at the mill, mostly a very fine wool worsted, used in men's suiting. 

I was also quite amused to see a parade of typewriters, from some of the earliest models right through to the electric ones we used to use before computers took over. (I had one myself.) Seeing them reminded me of my first job at the local Electricity Board HQ, where all our letters and reports had to be handwritten first and then sent up to the typing pool to be typed, before they were delivered back to the originator. Hard to believe these days, when missives can be transmitted electronically in a matter of minutes! 

 

Ones to Watch 2025

The main gallery space at Sunny Bank Mills was hosting a new exhibition: 'Ones to Watch 2025'. 'Showcasing some of the most exciting emerging talent Yorkshire has to offer, the exhibition brings together work by artists from across disciplines, from painting to sculpture, film, photography, ceramics, design and more.'  Inevitably there were some I liked, some I didn't like, some I couldn't 'get' and one or two pieces that I found intriguing. I did enjoy the large charcoal portrait by Ellie Andrews, entitled '(M)OTHER', one of a series of sketches she made of five women, who are all mothers. 

As I sipped my coffee (and relished my cake... a treat I allowed myself!) I watched a slow and mesmerising video by Angelika Kacourris. It was of 'nothing in particular' that the creator found on a local walk but, watching a horse cropping grass and a loop of tiny flies dancing in the sunlight, it was both strangely beautiful and very relaxing. 

Another piece I enjoyed was this simple yet visually arresting grid of coloured squares, a collaboration between Twinkle, an Indian artist and Ehsan Mojaver, who is Iranian. 'Against the grey tones of England, this installation offers a vibrant reminder of the warmth and diversity of their homelands.' 

In the same gallery, a shop offers carefully curated homewares and other beautiful objects, displayed on and around pieces of old furniture that are original to the mill. Sunny Bank Mills has echoes of Salts Mill and yet offers something different too. It's a highly successful and laudable endeavour, I feel. 

Artists' studios

There are a number of the large mill floors at Sunny Bank that have been partitioned off into sections that artists can rent as studio space. As well as the Print Fair, it was 'Open Studios' day so there was a vast array of artwork on display and for sale. There are painters, printers, ceramicists, jewellers, weavers, photographers ... So much wonderful colour and creativity on show.  

Odd corners held random but interesting paraphernalia. 

Perhaps the most exciting area was the 'Scrap Centre of Creative Reuse', a large store crammed full of 'scrap' - old bicycle wheels, textiles, paper and card, cardboard tubes, rope, plastics, metals, rubber, odd bits of wood. It was rather wonderful; stuff that would have gone to landfill, now rescued and sold at minimal cost for use in play, education and artistic creation. They also have an area of eco-friendly domestic supplies, where you can refill your washing up liquid or shampoo, or stock up on biodegradable and recyclable brushes, cloths and suchlike.  

Various rooms are used for workshops and training programmes, mostly related to textiles. There's a School of Sewing, a room full of weaving looms (below) and children's daycare and a forest school on site. Such a good use of a sprawling mill complex that otherwise might have been left to go derelict - and laudable because (unlike most of our old mills) it has remained in the same ownership after the original woollen mill was closed down. 

Outside and inside

I got chatting to another photographer. She was semi-professional and a lot more 'serious' than I, with a good camera and large lens. We agreed we were both captivated by the old mill buildings. They are gradually being reclaimed and refurbished; there are a lot more areas in use now than when I first visited a few years ago. Then you come across an area like this:

Along with its harmonious colour palette, the glorious jumble of stone, brick, wood, metal and glass, getting overrun with weeds and creepers, really makes my heart sing. Maybe I'm odd in that regard as, no doubt, some would simply see decay here but I love places like this. 

Round the back of the 1912 mill is the old mill pond. I'm not sure whether this was a source of water for the steam power or simply a reservoir, maybe for fire-fighting purposes. It's now well fenced off for safety reasons but to my eyes, again, it brings interest and nature into this rugged industrial site. 

Yarn winding and twisting machinery once filled the floor of the Colonnade (below). Now its beams have been left exposed and it provides a sculptural walkway in what's called Weavers' Yard. 

When you get tired of exploring the outside, there are now all sorts of studios and shops in the different buildings. Record Plant specialises in vinyl and has hundreds of discs to browse and buy. 

In a corner of the former Mending Rooms (where I imagine the burlers and menders used to inspect the finished cloth for snags and imperfections) is a rather lovely shop called Cahm, selling aromatic oils, scented candles and all manner of luxury spa and bath products. It smelled heavenly in there. I don't use candles now though (might set off the smoke alarm in the flat!) and I no longer have a bath, just a shower, so I didn't treat myself.