The old man and the sea
Jun. 20th, 2024 09:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shewhomustBy Tuesday we could no longer postpone going shopping on the mainland - but that was fine, I wanted to go to Berwick anyway. In particular, I wanted to see the Lowry and the Sea exhibition at the Maltings.
This was not quite as straightforward as it sounds, for two reaons. One is that it isn't easy to find parking in central Berwick; the other, which I didn't discover untildurham_rambler had dropped me at the Maltings, where the car park was full, and driven off in search of an alternative, is that the exhibition isn't actually at the Maltings, but at the Granary Gallery. Why yes, we do know where that is: in fact, that is where durham_rambler had found parking, valid for two hours. No matter. It was a lovely sunny day, and I wanted to explore the sreet of quirky shops we had passed on our way up to the Maltings (West Street, for future reference, and a good place to shop for cards and gifts). More shopping in Bridge Street, which is where we were parked - the Green Shop, an old favourite, and Slightly Foxed Books, a new one - and our two hours were up, so we relocated, and went off in search of lunch.
- I interrupt this narrative, because it is ten to ten, anddurham_rambler has just pointed out that this is the moment of the actual solstice, and the nights are now beginning to draw in. Sunset tonight is still four minutes away, but we have turned a corner -
After lunch, though, we made our way to the Granary Gallery, which is on an upper floor of the Youth Hostel, the building on the right in this picture:
- appropriately enough, if you compare this picture. A small exhibition, but an interesting one. It starts with a seaside scene in Lowry's familiar style, crowds of people enjoying a day out at the seaside (though it was painted in 1943, and I wonder if it really looked like that in wartime) and then heads off into unexpected territory: silvery Impressionist seascapes, pencil drawings of battleships, uninterrupted expanses of sea and sky... the information boards emphasised a psychological, autobiographical reading of all this emptiness. One drawing titled 'Self portrait as a column in the sea' make it hard to argue with that.
In the evening, we discovered that there was a concert in the village hall on the island, so we went along to hear Andy and Margaret Watchorn playing a variety of pipes (but mainly Northumbrian smallpipes) and fiddles (mostly fiddle as we know it, but also nyckelharpa). A pleasant surprise.
This was not quite as straightforward as it sounds, for two reaons. One is that it isn't easy to find parking in central Berwick; the other, which I didn't discover until
durham_rambler had dropped me at the Maltings, where the car park was full, and driven off in search of an alternative, is that the exhibition isn't actually at the Maltings, but at the Granary Gallery. Why yes, we do know where that is: in fact, that is where durham_rambler had found parking, valid for two hours. No matter. It was a lovely sunny day, and I wanted to explore the sreet of quirky shops we had passed on our way up to the Maltings (West Street, for future reference, and a good place to shop for cards and gifts). More shopping in Bridge Street, which is where we were parked - the Green Shop, an old favourite, and Slightly Foxed Books, a new one - and our two hours were up, so we relocated, and went off in search of lunch. - I interrupt this narrative, because it is ten to ten, and
durham_rambler has just pointed out that this is the moment of the actual solstice, and the nights are now beginning to draw in. Sunset tonight is still four minutes away, but we have turned a corner -After lunch, though, we made our way to the Granary Gallery, which is on an upper floor of the Youth Hostel, the building on the right in this picture:
- appropriately enough, if you compare this picture. A small exhibition, but an interesting one. It starts with a seaside scene in Lowry's familiar style, crowds of people enjoying a day out at the seaside (though it was painted in 1943, and I wonder if it really looked like that in wartime) and then heads off into unexpected territory: silvery Impressionist seascapes, pencil drawings of battleships, uninterrupted expanses of sea and sky... the information boards emphasised a psychological, autobiographical reading of all this emptiness. One drawing titled 'Self portrait as a column in the sea' make it hard to argue with that.
In the evening, we discovered that there was a concert in the village hall on the island, so we went along to hear Andy and Margaret Watchorn playing a variety of pipes (but mainly Northumbrian smallpipes) and fiddles (mostly fiddle as we know it, but also nyckelharpa). A pleasant surprise.
