This weekend Andy delivered the exhibition back to my studio. The end of an exhibition can be a painful time but, for me, it was made better by the timely arrival of a very generous review emailed to me by one of the gallery visitor:
There Is a Tide
Taigh Chearsabhagh Arts Centre
Lochmaddy, Isle of North Uist
There Is a Tide. The exhibition title catches my eye and an inner voice continues the quotation “… in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune …” Coincidentally, that quotation has been on my mind a lot of late.
I glimpse a lissom figure stepping across the shingle outside the café. She appears pale in the flat, grey light - pale blue. Her hair, close cropped, is Titian red. She has her back to me and her right hand is raised. Maybe she is greeting someone I cannot see. She trembles a little in the wind. I want to know more about her.
I head up the stairs to the Gallery unsure of what I shall find. I read the artist’s statement. I am relieved. I understand it - I think.
As I enter the Gallery I am reminded, fleetingly, of Antony Gormley’s figures on Crosby Beach, but the enchanted creatures here are not solid or grave or mysterious. They are exuberant, full of life and colour - the very particular translucent sea blues and greens of the Hebridean shallows on sunnier days, splashed and studded with orange and yellow, red and green. They have an existence which transcends the net and string of their construction. They have tales to tell.
Later I discover the stories of Gigha; The Engagement; The Running Man; The Hour; and Kairos and realise I have experienced a Kairos moment.
Lesley M Smith
Salisbury
20 July 2009
There Is a Tide
Taigh Chearsabhagh Arts Centre
Lochmaddy, Isle of North Uist
There Is a Tide. The exhibition title catches my eye and an inner voice continues the quotation “… in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune …” Coincidentally, that quotation has been on my mind a lot of late.
I glimpse a lissom figure stepping across the shingle outside the café. She appears pale in the flat, grey light - pale blue. Her hair, close cropped, is Titian red. She has her back to me and her right hand is raised. Maybe she is greeting someone I cannot see. She trembles a little in the wind. I want to know more about her.
I head up the stairs to the Gallery unsure of what I shall find. I read the artist’s statement. I am relieved. I understand it - I think.
As I enter the Gallery I am reminded, fleetingly, of Antony Gormley’s figures on Crosby Beach, but the enchanted creatures here are not solid or grave or mysterious. They are exuberant, full of life and colour - the very particular translucent sea blues and greens of the Hebridean shallows on sunnier days, splashed and studded with orange and yellow, red and green. They have an existence which transcends the net and string of their construction. They have tales to tell.
Later I discover the stories of Gigha; The Engagement; The Running Man; The Hour; and Kairos and realise I have experienced a Kairos moment.
Lesley M Smith
Salisbury
20 July 2009
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