Alphabe Thursday Q is for Thomas de Quincey
Along my walking alphabet I meet Thomas Penson De Quincey 1785 – 1859) was an English essayist and a close friend of William Wordsworth.
As a school boy De Quincey read the poems of Wordsworth. It is said that the Lyrical Ballads (1798) had consoled him in fits of depression and hoped one day to meet him. He walked many miles to fulfil his dream but he was not able to finance the journey so lived close to starvation rather than return home to his family. So after a poor start to his further education he did get a place at Worcester College, Oxford. Here, he met among others William Wordsworth (1770-1850) he left university before graduating and moved to to Grasmere, in the Lake District in 1809; and they became neighbours.
Sometimes De Quincey joined his friend on walks in the Pennines. It would seem that William Wordsworth’s legs were often discussed among females knowledgeable on the subject and were ‘pointedly condemned’ Thomas De Quincey replied ‘ There is no deformity about them ; and undoubtedly they have been serviceable legs beyond the average of human requisition; for I calculate, upon good data, that with these identical legs Wordsworth must have traversed a distance of 175-180,000 English miles – a mode of exertion, which to him, stood in the stead of wine, spirits, and other stimulants whatsoever to the animal spirits; to which he has been indebted for a life of unclouded happiness, and we for much of what is most excellent in his writings’.
De Quincey went on to have a lifelong passion for walking comparable to Wordsworth. We cannot measure the pleasure, but it is noted that walking was neither a subject nor a compositional method for the younger writer; perhaps he had other things on his mind. He was among the first to go on a walking tour with a tent; during his previously mentioned wanderings he needed to save money so it was a sensible alternative to lodging houses.
De Quincey’s best writing about walking was about the prowling the streets of London. We understand from his book the Confessions of an English opium eater , that he at the age of 17 ran away from a dull school and unsympathetic guardians; as a destitute youth; it was a very different kind of walking and writing. For 16 weeks he starved and made friends with other female street walkers who protected him against watchman who tried to drive him away.
For De Quincey his time in London was to have a profound effect of him and while there was no sequel, the rest of the book was devoted to the effects of opium and the rest of his life in rural places.
Wednesday counting down gently to my trip!
In a few months time I will be going to Brazil, it will be my third visit. On previous visits we have explored art galleries and museums for examples of Brazilian art. I have collected a few books and hand bills relating to those who have taken my fancy. I am not able to read Portuguese so I apologise now for any untruths I have recorded in my bid to share some notable printmakers.
Carlos Scliar (1920 – 2001 ) was a Brazilian printmaker, painter, illustrator, set designer, graphic designer and writer. He exhibited his work in Brazil and internationally with much success throughout his busy life. As social activist he engaged in various movements and produced posters, illustrated books and journals. While he was an engraver by choice he fell in love with with screen printing. It would seem Carlos was innovative and always on the look out for new techniques and materials, from tempera to acrylics, from painting murals to graphic arts.
These examples are lino cuts and lithographs … correct me if I am wrong …
Images from Poetica da resistencia aspectos da gravura Brasileira 1994
Weekly photo challenge … Orange
Orange was not my favourite colour; it doesn’t feature in my wardrobe and not been given space in my home since the late 1960s when all my kitchen apparatus were orange plastic.
However, since learning colour theory I have warmed to its sunny hue. While I may not add to my summer ensemble; I do celebrate it this week.
On Saturday I …
… I went to a printmaking workshop with Cath Baldwin. I was not sure what to expect as all materials were provided. All I knew was that the theme was Allen Seaby’s book Pattern without pain. I have a copy and had worked through some of the exercises in preparation.
The day began with a short overview of the exhibition of Allen Seaby’s work at the Reading Museum. Although, I had seen it before; it was extraordinary hearing about one of the leading pioneers of 20th century printmakers and those who inspired him and the way he went on to encourage contemporary printmakers and fabric and interior designers.
So, what seemed to start out, for me as another linocutting day turned out to be something quite different and exciting. While the lino, tools and the techniques were very important; the day was more about the joy; in the words of Seaby ‘no pain,’ of shape, colour and repetition. We did have a short clarification of the colour wheel that allowed us to make considered colour combinations or for me bring understanding to a theory that was not always clear.
As you know I am a poor student and fears and anxiety can cloud my vision, when it did become clear my pattern and colour combinations were not as zingy as the others in the class. However, it was a good day and I will put the lessons learned to practice in good time.
Silent Sunday ….
Saturday a celebration of a spoon and old tin can ….
This week has been joyous; it began seamlessly and conveniently as the weekend finished! On Tuesday, my new Monday, a parcel arrived from Brazil;quite a surprise. It was a lovely opportunity to celebrate, as we do, with wine and a takeaway. Like Pandora’s box there were some delights but my favourite, by far was a empty bean stew can! Feijoada is a stew, traditional in Rio de Janeiro. I enjoyed the vegetarian alternative while in Rio and since at home, neither perhaps enjoyed as they should be; nonetheless succulent and reminiscent of my other home.
A Carioca would not be seen dead buying a can of beans. But my daughter on a trek in the mountains beyond the city, needed a convenient option while without the required pressure cooker.
Then, knowing my passion for suitable or even less suitable containers she popped it in the post!
I was doubly pleased as I had found a rather nice but expensive walnut spoon that needed ‘space’ to be pricey … no spoon of my of such worth will go in a cupboard! I have learned over the years, when justifying an extravagant indulgence, is to have a ploy. The spoon can double up as a baren while pressing lino, cuts when not serving as cereal scoop!
So today, join me as I celebrate, parcels, spoons, feijoada, recycling and what we will , with love!
My snapshots from the library as usual are just a bit of beauty. I am lucky to work in lovely surroundings with of course a wonderful product. However, I don’t always take the time to look about me; but as the late winter sun came over the surrounding buildings and peeped through the stained glass windows … I could not resist the urge to gaze a while …
Alphabe Thursday … P is for Samuel Pepys.
While we look back to the 16th century and the practice of walking, the castles were beginning to turn palaces and mansions. Some with long narrow passages going nowhere in particular, built into the design. Doctors even then were advocating the need for a daily walk. So when inclement weather prevented a walk taken outside these galleries were used for the constitutional stroll. Soon the gallery became the place to exhibit paintings and to preserve health was no longer the point of the exercise. Queen Elizabeth I had a raised terrace built at Windsor Castle and walked there daily before dinner as long it was not too windy.
Although, it seemed walking then was more for health than pleasure, some joy must have been experienced. Still, some walkers did not enjoy the landscape so much, Samuel Pepys for instance, while walking in St James’s Park after dinner, notes in his diary the way in which the water pumps work there. A couple of years later while walking with his wife in White Hall Garden he was most interested in the lingerie of the king’s mistress as it hung to dry in the privy garden.
It was society that interested him, not nature, and landscape was not yet a significant subject for British painting and literature, as it was to become. Until the surroundings became important, the walk was just movement, not experience.
Images from Samuel Pepys / by Nicholas Abbott, with illustrations by Roger Hall.
Wednesday’s woman wood engraver …
I have mentioned Mary E. Groom (1900-1968) before in a previous blog post and while she also exhibited in the Oxford Museum in 1979 I know little of her. Except that she studied at the Leon Underwood School of Painting and Sculpture. She was also a founder member of the English Wood Engraving Society. Shortly after completing her training she returned to her family home and little is known of her until in 1936 when she produced 30 wood engravings for Paradise Lost and 12 for Roses of Sharon for the Cockerel Press.
I like her style and would like to find more works.
Weekly Photo Challenge … Reward
This is a difficult challenge, first it is difficult to measure reward, either that we give or that we or receive and, second illustrating it. I, for instance practice and enjoy good manners, but do not expect reward in return. I work hard but do not expect more than a fair salary, the reward is personal satisfaction in a job well. Being a parent is a pit of reward, unrequited and full blown reward that cannot be measured or recorded.
Also, reward is for over and above the call of duty and I don’t think this is celebrated in the way is should be. We live in a culture of horror, abuse and blame those who address it are often overly celebrated and frequently overpaid. While, those who care for the poor and vulnerable daily, deserved of reward and reasonable income are ignored.
On a personal level, reward is rarely acknowledged, we are far more likely to reprimand ourselves for a small job undone or badly than reward ourselves for a wonderful achievement. I come from a generation who did not encourage a self- congratulatory spirit, boasting was unseemly, and big head was degraded.
So, some of us have become overly self-effacing and self -harming. It was only recently when I wanted to address my place in this world of blame and low self worth, to celebrate small and pleasing events not just self praise but real rewards … cake, tea, new frock, a day(s) of learning etc. So, reward, reward, we cannot get enough. Lets do it for ourselves and each other.
However, I still have a dilemma; how do I illustrate reward? This hellebore in my garden this morning is reward enough …. Thank You
Coat Hanger Doll's House 