Menoggling; Culture Cram Part One

Another visit to Edinburgh to spend some time with Mac1 and to get a boost of culture. After a relaxing time sitting by the waters of the Clyde, it was back on the road to the east. 

En route, I spent a night at Lanark and took the chance to finally purchase a proper mini ironing board, the better to prepare my clothing for outings such as those I will tell you about now.

First, on Spring Equinox, an evening in Rosslyn Chapel, to listen to Mac1's group, the St Margaret's Singers, provide an hour of sublime singing in the superb acoustic of St Matthew's church (the proper name for the building). 

In normal visits, which are strictly ticketed and regulated, there is a no-photography rule (buy your images at the shop on your way out—the place has become a commercial phenomenon). However, as the minister, Rev Julie, was herself taking shots, several of us took the chance of some sneakers, too! Of course, I was only taking shots of the people. The architectural background was purely incidental.

More external shots will appear in Me-Now-Views a bit later. The evening was sublime, and the 'girls' sang to their peak of talent. Pieces by Palastrina, Rutter, the St Francis Prayer... oh, it was marvellous. It was also a chance to meet up with our cousin Sophie.

Sophie did the opposite to me—she was born and raised in OZ but came to study medicine at Edinburgh University and never left. She's just returned from a lengthy visit down under and, like me, finds herself a tad torn between here and there. The other lady in the photo was a long-time friend of the late Neighbour M. It has been almost two years since that dear lady's passing, and we shared fond memories, knowing how much she would also have enjoyed this concert. 

Anyway, that was that. Saturday was a free day, and I did a bit of 'housework', as it was indeed a very fine day. Then on Sunday, Mac1 and I headed into the National Gallery to view two new exhibitions: The Glasgow Boys and the RSA New Contemporaries.

The first was in a small room off the main gallery and held only about two dozen pieces. The pieces were exquisite and focused on their process as much as on finished works, which we both appreciated, but doesn't lend well to photography. Two or three pieces caught my eye, and they, of course, will be shared in Art Vibe later!

After refuelling with a pricey but very tasty and filling cheese scone and a mug of tea, we went to the much larger showcase for up-and-coming artists who are either Scottish by birth or have studied art in Scottish colleges. We were blown away. Having viewed the exhibition online first, I was keen to see just how much had been lost through the photographic representation of what was mostly 3D, or at least textural, work. 

It must be said that seeing things directly brought entirely new dimensions, sensations, reactions, and delights. Most of the works seen on the web did not benefit. Getting up close and interactive was definitely an advantage. This was especially true of two works in particular (and again, I'm keeping the main info and better shots for Art Vibe posts). First, there was the mock-up urban scene, which was a coffee table/desk-sized installation with so many little details to enjoy. Titled Doontoon by Niamh Finnigan, you can see the overall view via that online link above, but here are two vignettes.

You might gather that it speaks to the sleeping rough, the living tough, and litter issues. It is a fascinating piece and evokes the sense of urban despair that can be felt in some parts of Scotland's central belt. Made entirely of litter products, it met with much approval from both of us. 

The second item that really grabbed us and held us for a good quarter hour was Black Sheep by Olivia Priya Foster.

We could go into the installation, touch, and experience the cuddling feeling of these tents. There was warmth and, of course, the intense smell of lanolin, as these were sheared pelts directly from the sheep with no processing done on them. The sound aspect was spoken Gaelic and also of the sea on the shore, as Hebridean sheep often eat seaweed on the edges of the islands. Our mother would have LOVED this exhibit! I had to resist the urge to lie down and curl up among the fibres, so nurturing did it feel.

...back next Thursday with part two of the culture cram!