I think you might be gathering by now that I cannot go to North Wales and not visit Bryn Celli Ddu. Whilst this may seem like an obsessional trait, I can reassure you I have moved on from my original fixation of the Druid's Circle at Penmaenmawr, which I must have attended a dozen times. Given the enormous number of neolithic sites in North Wales, I am ultimately optimistic for my mortal (and etheric) soul in the long run. On this occasion, Bryn Celli Ddu was particularly beautiful and the photography worked out better than ever probably due to lighting (ok, or familiarity).
We went for a family holiday to a 6 bedroom big old house which overlooked the sea, called Hafod, at Trearddur Bay in Anglesey. Hafod was once the summer home of the author Nicholas Monsarrat and his family. Monsarrat wrote many novels including the wartime classic The Cruel Sea (1951). Monsarrat said of his time at Hafod:
“We always enjoyed the time we spent over at Ravenspoint, there was an endless variety of things to do and to learn. Ravenspoint, standing high up on the southerly arm of the bay, commanded a magnificent view of the whole coast-line nearly to South Stack lighthouse. On rough days the waves, surging in with the full force of the gale behind them, swept past in successive mile-long crests, piling up until they broke in a white flurry and fell thunderously onto the beach”
I love big old draughty holiday homes. I occupied the top floor and took two rooms; one for an office, and the other for sleeping. The bedroom had a dormer window, out of which the sea was reassuringly within touching distance, and for the duration of the holiday I was gifted with waxing, full, and waning moonlight cascading through the window. The full moon imparted a swollen and at times angry aspect to the sea, which was a pleasure to enjoy in all of her moods. Watching an old black & white movie (I recommend The Cruel Sea 1953, dir. Charles Frend) to the crackling fire, warmed by red wine, was a poetic delight. Below is some photography I took from the bottom of the garden at Hafod. If you skip over the stone wall, you are on the coastal footpath and right on the cliffs looking out to sea.
Oh my dear MILLIONS of fans, I am so sorry! So VERY sorry!!! So VERY VERY sorry for leaving you all for so long abandoned in a virtual swamp of noBohemian-ness. How could I do that?! I have no excuse. Oh for shame. I wish I could say I had an horrific riding accident and struggled against tide and time, like a mighty salmon swimming against the river's onslaught, to regain use of my hands so I could return to my beloved blog. Erm, but no. The muse, she is a cruel mistress, and she casts such a dark veil over her followers... so capriciously. If I could explain why this is so, I would hold the very keys of life and death. So its a good job I don't know really.
And yet, after the long dark winter, there is always a spring.
And what have YOU done in your spare time whilst I have been away, oh world?
Well there's the small matter of Trump, Brexit, Bozza, and a worldwide pandemic. Not to mention a global environmental catastrophe, with whole biomes now uncontrollably conflagrating. Oh yeah and an impending war with China. And millions actually displaced & dying in the middle east right now. And that says nothing of the coming financial meltdown and subjugation of the human race by psychotic warring AI robots. So, to be fair world, you haven't really kept up your end of things. I only missed a few blogs.
Today's music is served by the cuddly Mr. Morrissey formerly of Smiths fame. HOWEVER, this 1988 track (titled Suedehead and not I'm So Sorry) was his breakout solo single rather than being a Smiths release. In a flagrant flourish of tragi-irony, Suedehead charted higher on release than anything The Smiths had previously managed to do. Given the general agreement about the mistreatment of the other band members, that presents a moral Gordian knot that Gordius himself would have difficulty undoing. The muse is indeed capricious.
In 1899, the Berlin Academy elected Moszkowski a member. He was many times invited by piano manufacturers to appear in the United States to show off their pianos, but despite being offered massive fees, he always refused.
In 1908, by the age of 54, Moszkowski had already become a recluse as he began to suffer from poor health. His popularity began to fade and his career slowly went into decline. He stopped taking composition pupils because "they wanted to write like artistic madmen such as Scriabin, Schoenberg, Debussy, Satie."
His last years he spent in poverty for he had sold all his copyrights and invested the whole lot in German, Polish and Russian bonds and securities, which were rendered worthless on the outbreak of the war. On 21 December 1921, when he was ill and heavily in debt, his friends and admirers arranged a grand testimonial concert on his behalf at Carnegie Hall, involving 15 grand pianos on stage. The concert netted $13,275, with one part to provide immediate relief from his financial problems, plus an annuity of $1,250 annually for the rest of his life.
However, Moszkowski's illness lingered and he died from stomach cancer on 4 March of the next year, before the supply of funds could reach him. The money raised went instead to pay his funeral expenses and to his wife and son.
Over the years, I have had many different views on the way to work, ranging from the dismal to the glorious. Here is a selection of a few of my more uplifting moments on my way into Manchester over the course of a year.
Good walk with an 'end of the world' vista. I've done this a couple of times. The first time was about 10 years ago, and the Rising Sun pub was terrible in every way; real spit and sawdust stuff. I know it's a very out of the way pub, probably with little footfall, but at the time I thought if they raised their game, maybe to gastro-pub level, Gedney Drove End would become a bit of a venue and attract more casual walkers, romantic couples, etc. Build it and they will come! Well, I am glad to say I did the walk again this year and the Rising Sun has lived up to its name with a renovation, beer garden, increased range of food & drinks, and actual smiling people behind the bar. Probably under new management. The day itself was delightfully sunny and dry, with a gentle breeze. Ideal for looking out over the Wash and contemplating infinity and the changing seasons at the equinox.
I was snapping some September butterflies on my Butterfly Bush when out of the blue a loud hum like a chinook came from behind, and before I knew it, a whopping Hummingbird Hawk Moth dropped in for a drop of Butterfly Bush nectar. Just like the name implies, it hovered whilst feeding, never landing. The whole thing was over in seconds. Before I had time to draw my camera, it was off, leaving me to the serenity of my flutterbies.
This is a perfect piano concerto for the month of August. Takashi Yoshimatsu is not the most well known composer, which is all the more reason to popularise his music. Memo Flora is about plants, and is in three parts:
1. Flower (Allegro) 2. Petals (Andante) 3. Bloom (Rondo in 4/8 and 5/8).
Overall, Memo Flora is poised, intricate, but demonstrates a strength in resilience which is typical of the vegetative soul. It contains art, optimism and tragedy in every bar. It is quite possible however, that Yoshimatsu could do with a botany lesson because the progression flower > petals > bloom is not quite developmentally correct, or even indicates the full range of plant life. Imagine what a masterpiece we would have if he had decided to write a concerto on seeds > saplings > flower > fruition > death and rebirth. Of course, it is easy to criticise from the sidelines whilst the master creates, so instead I will leave you to the music to fold it into your own fertile imaginings and enjoyment.
The artwork is by Yuka Taguchi (b.1992) and is called Pandora (2014), of which she says: "F200 ink, pigment and gold on Japanese paper. I drew a world like the paradise before Pandora of Greek mythology opened the jar. Redon drew several paintings on the subject of Pandora, and I was so moved by them that I wanted to draw one myself someday."
A reasonably common species in the southern half of Britain, it was most frequent in the London area, where there are still extensive tree-lined avenues. In recent years its distribution has spread northwards and is now regularly found well into North Yorkshire and beyond.
It has a distinctive scalloped-edged forewing, subtly coloured in pinkish and green. The central dark band is quite variable in size and extent.
Occupying woodland and suburban habitats, it flies in May and June, and often comes to light.
The larvae feed on lime (Tilia) as well as a number of other deciduous trees including birch (Betula), alder (Alnus) and elm (Ulmus). They are typically green with yellow stripes and a blue horn at the rear. When ready to pupate, they change colour to a dull greyish or purplish and begin to wander, looking for a pupation site. This is when they are most often encountered.
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