Avert your gaze

The Nipple

I advise those with a Facebook account to avert their gaze from the opening image. My sculpture depicts that which is censored on social media; that being, the female nipple. That such beauty should be considered immoral, speaks volumes about society's moral standards.  Just like the stars and planets, the nipple is central to the universe.

My video ''Variations on a Theme'' reveals more beauty that is hidden in the name of decency.

Capturing the Caribbean

Road Town, British Virgin Islands.

 

The above watercolour is one of hundreds that I made over a twenty year period while sailing the Caribbean. It is featured in my latest video Capturing the Caribbean.  

My paintings were sold there and then, and only occasionally was I able to photograph a painting before a buyer whipped it away. All I have left are faded photographs and colour transparencies that have deteriorated in the heat and humidity of the tropics. Restoring the images has been a major task, as can be gauged from  the "before" detail shown below. The millions of mysterious dots may have been caused by a chemical reaction within the emulsion. Perhaps related to a fault in processing. I welcome feedback on the issue.

What's in a name?

 

Halifax Parish Church

Twenty-five years ago, the Halifax Parish Church, in status and name, became the Halifax Minster. It is a Grade 1 Listed Building, which means, the physical structure can't be messed about with. I only wish that the listing protected its name. For me, it always was and always will be, the Halifax Parish Church. As yet, its soot blackened walls haven't been stripped bare and robbed of their patina by the destructive process of stone cleaning. But doubtless, that day will come.

I hope that the Church Guardians push for status and respectability will not obliterate a remarkable grave stone that paves the entrance. It commemorate a man who fathered 19 children and fought in the wars for 25 years. I quote both figures as "thereabouts'' because I last visited the church thirty-five years ago. At that time, I was up on the roof inspecting the gargoyles. Perhaps a collector of images of the West Riding's built heritage, will leg it down the church and send me a photograph of the gravestone.

In the years of my apprenticeship, the church grounds offered a short cut to work and the equally historic Ring O' Bells Pub, that conveniently stands just outside the church gates, was the venue for the work's darts and dominoes team. But alas the pub's soot blackened walls have been whitewashed and the cobbled yard converted into a beer garden. 

Celebrating Sheila Hyndman

 

My 2024 blog posts broke all previous records, with viewers from 200 countries. In December alone the blog statistics recorded almost 10,000 hits, and each hit accessing multiple page views. Not bad for a niche subject! 

All the more gratifying is the worldwide interest in the posts that celebrate the life and work of my dear friend Sheila Hyndman. They include:

Sheila Hyndman Remembered; Curiouser and Curiouser and, Nor shall death drag thou wander'st in his shade.

The opening image is of one of the paintings I made to illustrate the novel Sheila was working on at the time of her death.

In the beginning

Taking delivery of Brookfoot, with family and friends aboard.

The "About Me" in the sidebar reads: 

60 years ago I gave up a secure job in engineering design and declared myself an artist on the pavements of France.

What it doesn't tell you about is the purchase and conversion of an eighty ton coal barge that made the transition possible. My blog post titled Grab a chance and you won’t be sorry for a might have been…  tells you a little more about that daring escape to freedom. The post includes a photograph of Brookfoot on the day I purchased her just after she had discharged her last cargo of coal to the Thornhill Power Station.

 

My blog posts How it all Began and I Will Repent Tomorrow say more about those early days. I quote:

Having freed myself of a mortgage and nine to five job I declared myself an artist on the pavements of France. My wife Norma and two year old daughter Diana shared those precarious days. For all its hardships, it was an idyllic lifestyle. My sketches were the songs for our supper and when we had exhausted the possibilities of one location, we sailed on to the next.  

The picture below shows Brookfoot passing through the lock at Boston en route for the French Canals. Norma and Di are looking on.

And finally, here she is, safely moored on the canal side at Bruges.

Before and after

The above painting is from the 1982 Peter Island Collection

In 1982, the American billionaire Richard de Voss, commissioned me to paint 32 paintings of his Caribbean island domain. He liked the collection to the extent that in 1995, he commissioned a further 32 paintings. The first series was painted when I was in the depths of a creative low, and I wouldn't give tuppence for it. On the other hand, the second series was created when I was on the brink of a creative high and contained what I consider to be the best of my lifetime's work. It came as no surprise that Richard de Voss preferred the contrived first series to the lyrical second. 

What came between the two was my muse, Sheila Hyndman. Thank you Sheila for reawakening my creative vision. I also give thanks to my studio assistant Alice and my wife Denise for enabling my subsequent transition to the figurative. 

From the 1995 Peter Island Collection

The above blurred images are taken from colour transparencies that have done their best to survive the ravages of the tropics. They are all that is left, for doubt that any of the paintings survived the disastrous 2017 hurricane.

The blight of mass tourism

Cane Garden Bay 1993

Hundreds of my Virgin Island paintings that date from the mid 1970's and up to the mid 1990's, were whisked away by eager buyers before the paint was dry. All I have left is an incomplete faded photographic record of the originals, often hurriedly photographed there and then. They can't be repeated because the lively scenes of those days have suffered the blight of mass tourism.

 Cane Garden Bay 2024 

Photographed at the exact same spot as my painting. 

Raw Sexuality

Egon Schiele (1890-1918)

In his brief life, the Austrian expressionist Egon Schiele, extended the boundaries of the nude. His work exudes raw sexuality to the extent that it becomes non sexual. He was a master of the line and the effects of exaggeration. The lines that define the thigh and torso, being a case in point. 

But as I know all too well, it is well-nigh impossible to carry a masterstroke throughout. With the raised left arm, Egon Schiele struggles and fails, just as I struggled and failed - albeit by an hair's breadth - in my painting of Annabelle. These are the problems that one faces when capturing the figure in motion. In voiding the ridged pose there arises the difficulty of remembering the whole figure as seen at the first fleeting glance. In my case, the model's turn continued after that initial vision, and my memory of the linkage between the left leg and buttocks became confused.

They will rob you of your chastity

Utility poles disfigure what was once a Virgin Island paradise.

Ian Nain's portentous book "Outrage" records a journey he made from Southampton to Carlisle in 1955. It constitutes a horror story of insensitive postwar town planning. 

If today, the ghost of Ian Nain was to make a similar journey in the British Virgin Islands, he would unearth the same scenario. Not only does the East End look like the West End and all the places in between, but they are collectively doing their best to look like a smaller version of Miami or Dubai. Fifty years ago, Virgin Island poet Sheila Hyndman prophesied what was to come, but no one heeded her warning. 

The writing was on the wall in the 1970's and it has been downhill ever since. The island's fixation on wealth, corruption and a disastrous hurricane has hastened the decline. Once the natural environment has been ruined by insensitive development, beautification is like putting lipstick on a pig.

After viewing hundreds of images and hours of video footage related to the BVI’s recovery from hurricane Irma, it became clear that sensitivity to the built environment has been sadly lacking. Ugly utility poles are a case in point. Their impact on the natural environment is worse than that of a hurricane. The flooding of low-lying areas is related, not so much to rainfall, but to indiscriminate cutting of the island's terrain with backhoe and bulldozer. Nature has a way of building back without scaring the landscape.

The opening image is a stretch of road that runs between what was once an idyllic cove on one hand and a fertile valley on the other. The images below show the proposed West End Ferry Terminal and the East End Visitor Welcome "Facility".

 This documentary tells of Ian Nain's fight to save Britain from the blight of Subtopia. 

The title of this post is taken from Sheila Hyndman's poem To Virgin Gorda.

Censorship by devious means

If an offence come out of truth, better is it that the offence come than that the truth be concealed. (St. Jerome)

Over the years I have corresponded with the US National Coalition Against Censorship on matters relating to censorship in the Caribbean and elsewhere in the world. Usually, the issue is with authorities censoring work.

However, I have recently met up with what appears to be selective censorship by surviving members of a deceased author's/artist's family. I can only assume that it is done for the sake of propriety. Presumably, there is something in the deceased person's work, beliefs or life history, that they would rather keep hidden from public scrutiny.   

To guard against my own work suffering the same fate, I have instructed my family that, after I've gone, nothing shall be censored. All is relevant. 

On the subject censorship, I admire blogger's stand on freedom of content and the fact that the author of a blog post owns the copyright. This is diametrically opposite to Facebook's censorship of the nude and content that has no copyright restrictions. 

My blog has a large following from artists and art students in countries where blogger is banned, regardless of content. They have to resort to devious means to access my work. Their tenacity gives hope that freedom of expression will prevail.

My dear friend, the Virgin Island poet Sheila Hydman, prophesied, All that will be left is an old forgotten poem like mine. I fervently hope that her life's work, in its entirety will be remembered. 

The Nude: from the perspective of artist and model

The artist and model. (click on the image to view video)

My recent posts have delved into the relationship between artist and poet, whereas my latest video explores the creative relationship be artist and model. The video supplements my book Notes on the Nude.

I hope my video will inspire a new generation of artists to pursue the challenge of working from the nude model and likewise, inspire a new generation of models. 

In a future video I will explore the relationship between artist and musician. 

A footnote to my previous post on Sheila Hyndman

In a recent article I wrote for the press that I had titled "Remembering Sheila Hyndman", the editor substituted my frequent use of Sheila's Christian name for "Ms Hyndman". Thus, in a stroke of the pen, making the intimate the impersonal. 

I doubt that Sheila - sorry, Ms Hyndman! - would approve, for she disliked editors making changes to what she wrote and I share Sheila's aversion. But as this editorial correction verges on the humorous, we'll let it pass.

It reminds me of a line in Leo Robin's lyrics "Miss Brown to You".

But go slow, oh, oh. Don't you all get too familiar. 

Sung here by Billie Holiday.

Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade. (Sheila Hyndman Remembered Cont'd)

A portrait of Sheila that I painted while we were working on "Reflections".

Those you never touched in life, you will touch now. 

Those who never knew Sheila the poet, will know her now.   

(From the eulogy to Sheila by Jennie Wheatley) 

The legacy of a creating artist - whatever art form - depends on the attention given to their work after death. As Sheila's "active force" while she was with us in the world, I consider it my task to ensure that her legacy lives on. 

The title of my post is taken from Shakespeare's 18th sonnet.

Curiouser and curiouser!

Haunting the seashore where mangroves once thrived.

Today's ghostly image relates to my last post Sheila Hyndman Remembered.

`Curiouser and curiouser!' cried Alice (she was so much surprised, that for the moment she quite forgot how to speak good English).

With bated breath I await to see how my book is received in the BVI. Since her death thirty-three years ago Sheila has been given scant recognition. Perhaps she was the prophetess they do not want to be reminded of. Sheila foresaw the greed and corruption that has manifested itself in recent times. 

At the time of her death Sheila was working on a novel that spoke of her concerns. The work in progress was on the hard drive of her computer. The only copy (made on one of the early dot matrix printers) passed back and forth between us. I doubt that the hard drive and unfinished manuscript have survived. But what remains fixed in my memory, is an explanation of the book's theme, chapter by chapter, that Sheila verbalised during our time together. 

Sheila's poem “Revelations” speaks of the creative union that existed between us.

I am a seeker of wisdom

You are the active force

That manifests my truths

For the good of humanity.

I am a contemplator of what was and shall be,

You are the revealer of the link that is.

I am of the sky and would flee the cares of men.

You are the Earth, the balance that keeps my sanity.

I am night, the creator of fear and uncertainty

You are the sun, that brings me ecstasy

At the dawn of our union.

I am black with the seed of knowledge

You are fair

And the fire of your purity

Bounds me to the seat of wisdom.

Here are links to the book and video.

Sheila Hyndman Remembered

The following is taken from my foreword to the book, "Sheila Hyndman Remembered" 

In 1974 I was invited to join a radio panel discussion on the theme of creative arts in the BVI. I knew the role of the other presenters around the table, except for a young lady in school uniform. The deep impression that Sheila made when she spoke about her poetry has stayed with me ever since. While I was busy sketching scenes from the island’s past, Sheila was passionately versifying those times and profoundly questioning the future. I shared Sheila’s love and concern for her homeland and in the years that followed we worked towards a common goal.

Almost all of Sheila’s poems date from her teenage years. Her output virtually ceased as she entered adulthood, but reemerged in the late 1980’s. Four of the poems in this collection reflect her later period. From the faded pages of school exercise books and more recent typed poems, we pieced together the contents for “Reflections”. The book was printed and bound in my studio and published in 1989 as a limited edition of 250 copies. Had we not taken the initiative to publish Reflections when we did, Sheila’s poems would have been forgotten by all but the cognoscenti.

When my own work reached a low point, Sheila gave me encouragement to press on. Her influence can be found in my books “Virgin Island Sketches” and “Caribbean Sketches”, and the paintings and sculptures in my series “Daughters of the Caribbean Sun”. One of our last conversations touched upon her literary hopes for the future.

Sheila was born on August 28^th, 1958, and her sudden death in 1991 robbed the Virgin Islands of their foremost poet.

To ensure that the memory of Sheila lives on, the proceeds from the sale of the book will be used to create an annual award in her name for emerging Virgin Island Poets. 

The book is available at: https://www.studiopublications.org/product-page/sheila-hyndman-remembered

A video about the book includes readings from her poems and can be viewed at: https://youtu.be/aUb3nI3Nnkg