Hasankeyf

Hasankeyf.

Truly one of the experiences of my life.
November 1990, on the edge of the first Iraqi war.


Scant notes from a guide book.
---- on the left bank of the Tigris. The village takes its name from the medieval town of Hisn Kayfa, whose extensive ruins are to be seen on the other bank of the river. This has been identified as the ancient Cehfa, an important frontier post on the border between the Byzantine empire and Persia. It fell to the Arabs in 640, at the same time as Mardin, and was ruled in turn by the same succession of Moslem powers.It remained an important city throughout the middle ages, but then in Ottoman times it declined to the status of a mere village. One sees there today the ruins of the Byzantine citadel, a palace of the Artukid period, several ancient mosques, a turbe, and the impressive ruins of a bridge across the Tigris, which early travellers remarked upon as being the grandest in all Anatolia.
--- from Turkey, by John Freely.

I only stayed there for two nights.
Although friendly enough, the locals didn't want us to stay there too long.

Tizmoz.
Possibly one of the worst experiences of mosquitoes I have ever suffered. Too hot to stay under a sheet but too many of them to stay outside of it.

I don't even know if it has been turned into a reservoir yet - a highly charged issue.

There are many doodles in various note books that I didn't realise were about this gorge and the dwellings within.

The place that really got me was the gorge with the cement powder floor. Inhabited by people living in caves and huts on either side.
We bought a seed bead hanging from one of the families, whose home revolved around a large four poster bed.

First rough for an eventual stained glass window. Unfortunately broken and unphotographed (that'l teach me)

There was a boy on a donkey winding his way up one side of the gorge past shattered huts and under a one time triumphant arch.
Not forgetting the two large, loud, wild dogs, which fortunately stayed put up at the top.
And the squeaking, screeching birds of prey that you couldn't see high up in the empty sky above the cliff walls that snaked inwards.

*

Its hard to believe these two drawings are so similar!

I return to that place in my dreams and in my art work time and time again.

Painting from "Johnny Eidetic" 1998.

Recent "one off"collage, Aug. 15

Summerhill

Summer hill

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A doodle in wood, up to July 30^th.

Prices range from £0 - £5k.

Mungo the Water Divider

 

Maybe one could refer to this as having the nature of kinetic intervention. ( The ribs move)
The drive was terrible after being neglected for so long, and when the forestry came down the drainage was a deluge.

 

It took me about a month to ascertain exactly where the outflow changed direction, both up and down the drive.

 

I decided to mark the spot and what with working on fencing, came across various weird and wonderful branches.

 

Not so much a dragon, more a scorpion.

 

 

 

 

It's thirsty work, dividing water.

A cacophony of dogs, August 1^st.

 

 

DOGS

Dear Marge,

I live in a fairly remote spot in West Wales, surrounded by open land which used to be forestry. There are various surrounding tracks, suitable for dog walking.

Unfortunately, relatively recently someone has turned up in a sparkling clean land rover, with a mixture of five dogs of which he doesn't have control.

They seem to be terrorising the few dog walkers that use the area & have bothered my dog on three occasions.

 

I don't want to get aggressive – it is on my doorstep. Having walked two dogs in a city, I am used to “steeling” myself to what could/may happen with other owners in a park area.

Slap bang in the middle of the countryside, I don't feel like letting this idiot dictate to my timetable, in terms of avoiding him.

He is causing upset around the area in which I live.  

A harsh discordant mixture of sound.

 

 

 

MULLIGAN'S BEND

19^th July.

An event which occurred in the mid 70's.

 

----well, the sign is still there. Maybe people think it's s bona fide council sign.

One step closer to immortality, Jim. 

 

The Swallow Family.

 

 25^th July

On the edge of twilight the swallow family came and flitted over the forecourt. A short but exuberant display, just before the midges appeared and the bats came out from under the eves.

 

  

They nested in the Wendy house – slightly annoyed by my comings and goings.

 

 

But were considerate enough to leave a single tidy pile of poo under their nest.

 



Oh dear, cant correct this at present!
 

Squirrel Alert,

Although this course of action doesn't seem to have deterred them, (as a new entrance appears)

 

 

 

 

Into White 

30^th July.

 

 

It all started with the gleaming, sparkling monolith on the moor. 

That used to be moor

Then was forestry

and now

Is moor again.

 

And a message from an old friend who told me that I had scraped some black paint off a difficult memory.

 

 

 

 

 

Why not draw in white?

 

 

Even if it is difficult?

 

 

I saw myself in a white hat, white roller, white top, painting the house white, in a reflection in a window.

 

This must be:

The White AlbumThe White Album                       

 

 

 

Fence

 

 

7a

Fence, around late July.

Having a public footpath round the place contains good and bad points:

It's a great place to meet the kind of people that enjoy walking – This area of “forestry” is the biggest for quite a few miles. (Bigger than Canaston Wood)

BUT

I don't enjoy people suddenly appearing into view whilst enjoying a can of beer on the forecourt. And there is that cold wind that blows across the open land. (And who knows? I may keep sheep one day)

 

 

Last year, what with cutting down trees and saplings, I decided to make a wattle fence. Unfortunately, it doesn't impair vision into the place as much as I would like.

So I decided to “double up” - two lines of horizontal boughs, held in place, but not secured with fir stakes. Then filled with various countryside debris.

 

 

Should last a few years, mind it is an on-going project.

 

 

The Gate of clubs, a side entrance enabling me to transport “found objects” more conveniently home.

 

 

Tenby Panorama, 10^th July

 

 

Tree-ness 

2^nd July

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Perennial plant with self supporting main stem (usu. Developing woody branches at some distance from the ground)
Erect bush or shrub with single stem.

Genealogical chart like branching tree.

Essence of tree being trunk, everything else being very peripheral.

Not the shelter of the world, or even the roots of our being.

 

Old drawings from Ravenscourt Park, Shepherds Bush – winter 1976, before they succumbed to Dutch Elm disease.

I have managed to save four big elms at Shipping Hill along with numerous saplings – I just let the saplings carry on, weeded round them type of thing.

Who knows if they will survive?

Maybe until they get too big and become attractive to the parasite.

From a hedgerow – Shipping Hill – same year.

 

 

 

 

Eulogy. Idea formulated 22^nd June.

The demise of a fir and the start of a mosaic.

Douglas

 

 

After they chopped the forestry down the winds came along & blew down a lot of peripheral growth.

Amongst this was one of my favourite trees of all time.

 

 

 

Why didn't I paint it more?

 This is, in a sense a Eulogy:

Well thought of words

  (non)

ending for ^ humans.

 

 

 

Back in the sixties, when my old man was aid-detache at the Indonesian Embassy, he used to pick up all kinds of bumf from clients, associates and various concerns. 

Scandinavian Airlines used to give him a calendar every year, illustrated by a guy named Otto Nielsen. They were very bright and lively and as a teenager I loved 'em. I kept hold of two of them from the mid sixties, not really knowing what to do with them.

 

 

When I decided that the kitchen needed a mosaic over the sink, I realised that a good way of forcing colour into it would be by way of collage.

 

 

 

Large rough.

 

 Present state of play.

 

 

Fox gloves, 18^th June.

 

 

 

Land, sky & horizon, Tim.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rock Dog & the shining SouthPaws.

 

Rock Dog, from early June.

Nick, I started to knock it out as an idea, capture a moment in time, if you like. As it gained strength, I realised that I needed a reason in order to actually finish it. (Having many “very, very” important things to achieve in tandem.

 

 

Compositionally and in the initial doodle, “on the back of a fag packet” - (which I didn't want to change) All the violinists are left handed, maybe it's the way the necks of the violins go with the flow of the afternoon sunbeams!

 

 Structurally, its all made up of Acrylic based paints, or paint with PVA medium in it. I also used water soluble wood treatment as an interim varnish in order to bond it together.

For me – I think I would tend just to lay it on an off white material background, with a sheet of glass covering it, but not flattening it. Slightly crinkly edges an' all.

 

It was a moment in time and seeing as I had set it up as a “big day” I suppose I was more than ready to pick up any crumbs that appeared on the tabletop.

 

 Boot scraper

 

 footnote.