Cornflower

Reflections

    On at Edinburgh's City Art Centre just now is an excellent exhibition of the work of John Henry Lorimer (who deserves to be much better known). Brother of the architect Robert Lorimer, his family restored the derelict Kellie Castle in Fife, a location which featured in many of his paintings including The Flight of the Swallows shown here.

    If you can't see the show in person, there's a virtual tour on ArtUK.

Housework becomes an art

    "The hamlet [...] consists of a few cottages on a green beside a burn. Some of them (a strange thing in Scotland) are models of internal neatness; the beds adorned with patchwork, the shelves arrayed with willow-pattern plates, the floors and tables bright with scrubbing or pipeclay, and the very kettle polished like silver. It is the sign of a contented old age in country places, where there is little matter for gossip and no street sights. Housework becomes an art; and at evening, when the cottage interior shines and twinkles in the glow of the fire, the housewife folds her hands and contemplates her finished picture; the snow and the wind may do their worst, she has made herself a pleasant corner in the world."

    From Edinburgh: Picturesque Notes by Robert Louis Stevenson

All praise and all miracle

    "It was a sunny day in early July when I came to the Ripton farm. I sat on the rock outside Frost's writing cabin and listened to the whir of the poplar leaves at the edge of the woods and the sweet song of a hermit thrush. The tall grasses at the base of the apple trees were rich with wildflowers - pale yellow foxgloves, clover, flax, Indian paintbrush, Queen Anne's lace, daisies and buttercups. A robin perched in the branches of a tree above a cluster of small green apples.

    It was more powerful than I had imagined, finding Frost's last orchard still thriving, the trees with fruit on them. Everything was so alive in that little spot and I was struck by the continuum of life, by how the birds used the orchard as they probably always had, by how the apples reappeared summer after summer. It was all praise and all miracle. Edward Thomas was right about a line of apples being the same as a line of poetry in another language. And while Frost was no longer there to tend his orchard, it persisted. And because he had thought about it as it was in that moment, with fruit on the trees and the trees in full maturity, it still contained him.

    The poet may die, but the poetry continues."

    From The Ghost Orchard by Helen Humphreys.

    The photograph was taken yesterday in the newly reopened Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh - it was so good to be back there.

Floury

    For UK readers short of flour, I've found it here:

Mungoswells Malt & Milling- UK delivery

Valvona & Crolla - UK delivery

today, thanks to an Instagram post by Nigel Slater, Blair Atholl Watermill - UK delivery

    and for Edinburgh locals:

The Good Store, Goldenacre - order for collection, or delivery in EH3, 4 & 5

Margiotta, Dundas Street

Dr. Elsie's mitts

    Inglis Mitts by Ysolda Teague, named after Dr. Elsie Inglis, (made in Ysolda Blend No. 1 - no longer available, I believe).

    As many others before me have found, the instructions for the thumbs are a little on the sketchy side, and the right one in particular had me tearing my hair. I have a note here which may be of help, should you want to make them.

And a little more

 

    Last night we heard Angela Hewitt play Book 1 of The Well-Tempered Clavier. This was a revelation in terms of texture, shading, overall musicality: familiar pieces, shown often in a new light, and despite the large concert hall setting, a very intimate performance. Book 2 will be played tomorrow night, but for all those far from Edinburgh here's a taste.

    For her Berlioz last week, Joyce DiDonato used an iPad, turning the pages of her score with a touch of her hand. Angela Hewitt also used that device, but interestingly, her turning was done - so I understand - by means of Bluetooth and a small pedal positioned beside the piano's pedals. What happens in the event of a loss of signal, I wonder, though I'm sure a performer of Miss Hewitt's calibre would take a blank screen in her stride.

    

    

   (Once again, apologies for the picture quality - the image on my phone is perfectly sharp, but somehow it loses clarity in translation to Typepad.)

A little night music

    Edinburgh's International Festival kicked off last Friday with an open-air concert at a football stadium. Such a venue was a new one for me - and it wasn't without its logistical drawbacks - but the music more than made up for the practical difficulties (and the significant and slightly menacing seagull population present). The Los Angeles Philharmonic, joined by members of their Youth Orchestra, were conducted by Gustavo Dudamel in a programme of film music planned to appeal to all ages; that some little boys chose to fight in the aisles and other small children took the opportunity to run about the Tynecastle pitch didn't detract from the orchestra's exhilarating playing, Maestro Dudamel's address to the crowd, and the other sights and sounds of a memorable evening: it was definitely an experience.

    Our next outing was to the more conventional surroundings of the Usher Hall for a concert performance of West Side Story, the unusual factor here being that the conductor was none other than John Eliot Gardiner. If you know him as a world-renowned exponent of Bach and Monteverdi, say, you may be surprised to learn that he was as much in his element with Bernstein, donning a policeman's hat and a convincing accent for a cameo performance as Officer Krupke, and earning a standing ovation - alongside the Scottish Chamber Orchestra and a bunch of talented young singers - for a simply scintillating performance.

    Last night was the turn of the National Youth Orchestra of the USA to delight us. Under the direction of the energetic Antonio Pappano, and with Joyce DiDonato as soloist, we heard a programme of Berlioz and Prokofiev preceded by Delicate Tension, a new piece written by one of the orchestra's apprentice composers, Tyson J. Davis. All the young people taking part are between 16 and 19 years of age, and their level of expertise is truly astonishing. They will be at The Proms on Sunday - with a slightly different programme - so look out for them when that concert is broadcast next Friday.

Cornflower recommends ... something a little different

    Regular readers may know that last year was a tough time for us due to family illness and the sudden death of my father, and as a result, after months of anxiety, grief and stress I was physically and emotionally pretty low. Anyone who knows me would have seen me going on as normal, being as positive, practical, and upbeat as I usually am, but the strain took its toll and eventually I realised that I needed help.

    Having had in the past near-miraculous results from reiki I sought something similar, and fate - in the shape of Google - took me to Heidi at Mandala Flow. Heidi is an intuitive, highly trained and experienced healer who uses a number of separate but complementary methods to treat those who come to her. I arrived with no energy whatsoever (truly an empty tank), with the resurgence of an old back injury causing pain, and with a new set of aches which were curtailing my daily activities. Emotionally I was drained and feeling more than a little lost. 

    Over the course of several sessions, tailoring the treatments to my changing needs, Heidi set about restoring me to my previous state of health and vitality so that three or four months on I have largely recovered my equilibrium and feel newly energised. Given where I was, that is quite a result. Now, I know time itself is a healer, and even without intervention I might have improved naturally, but I feel my sessions at Mandala Flow have given me the boost I needed, which is why I wanted to write about the experience.

     Heidi is a lovely person - warm, friendly, a comforting, caring presence. Her clinic has a similarly welcoming air to it, and for me an hour in the treatment room is an hour well spent. I know not everyone gravitates towards alternative therapies and I don't seek to push this at anyone but simply to say that it has done me a lot of good and may be something you'd want to look at should you feel open to it and in need of a helping hand, whether as a little tune up or to tackle some more significant issue. 

    Heidi didn't ask me to write this; it comes - as do all the recommendations here and on the books site - without favour and in the spirit of sharing good things.

 

Edited to add: just by the way, Heidi does Skype sessions.

Winter is the time ...

 

              Edinburgh Castle from Inverleith Park

    ... for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home." Edith Sitwell 

    With thanks, again, to the Royal Society of Literature for their excellent seasonal quotations.

October

    "For much of October we can play at autumn. We get golden sunlight, tapestry-like hillsides, morning mists, all without any great drop in temperature: a gentle slide into everything good about autumn. We light the fire because we can, because it's October, not because we are so cold that we have to. The countryside is ravishing, and ripening before our eyes, every hedgerow glistening with lipstick-red hips and purple elderberries, hazelnuts and walnuts and glossy sweet chestnuts in their hedgehog casings, every tree a different shade. The year's spiders are now fully grown, and are suddenly everywhere, stretching their webs over hedges and across the garden path, the fine strands breaking across your face each morning.

    Gather in nuts and logs and final crops, because towards the end of the month things start to feel more serious. Frosts arrive and the clocks go back, and we remember what this ripening is all about. The Anglo-Saxons called this month Winterfylleth, a word composed of 'winter' and 'full moon', and they thought that winter began on October's full moon, which falls this year on the 24th. Prematurely pessimistic, perhaps, but night and cold are slowly becoming dominant."

    From The Almanac: A Seasonal Guide to 2018 by Lia Leendertz.

                                                    ~

    Suitably autumnal (blackberry, raspberry, and fig) frangipane tarts from a new and excellent local discovery, The Pastry Section in Edinburgh's Stockbridge, near Armstrong the fishmonger. If you should go there, look out especially for the sublime Persian love cakes (devoured before I could photograph them).

Little acorns

    If you're in Edinburgh over the next six or seven weeks, do visit The Lost Words exhibition at Inverleith House in the Royal Botanic Garden.

    I'm sure you're already familiar with the book by Robert Macfarlane and Jackie Morris which "celebrates the relationship between language and the living world". A fair number of its artworks are included in the show, each subject being treated in three ways: an "absence", an icon, and a contextual piece, showing "things that are missing and things that are hidden, [...] absences and appearances". Run your tongue around the "spells" and linger on the images, but if - like me - you are unnerved by large pictures of certain birds (magpie and raven, for instance), you should be fine enough in the gallery but turn the book's pages with care!

Fantastic beasts and where to find them

    I recommend a visit to the Royal Highland Show, Scotland's foremost agricultural show, which is on until Sunday, but I'd strongly suggest you plan ahead, decide what you particularly want to see, and pick up a map of the showground (follow that link and scroll down) in order to make the best of it.

    Our visit yesterday was rather last-minute but we still managed to watch some of the equestrian classes in the main ring, tour the sheds which house the heavy horses, cattle and sheep*, buy some Buchan and very good honey, just miss - because we took the wrong path - the obedience display given by relatives of our dog Mollie, and walk many miles taking in all the sights, sounds and scents of the show.

    As far as getting there is concerned, the tram is quick but the stop is a good 15-20 minute walk from the showground, the bus drops you much closer but will likely take a while because the traffic is always heavy, and if the experience of friends we bumped into is anything to go by, taking the car means you'll have to park "virtually in Glasgow". However you do it it's worth the effort.

   

* If you're at all interested in sheep farming, don't miss James Rebanks' The Shepherd's Life.

While winter holds the earth

   There's a good line or two in an essay by Rob Cowen in the Spring anthology I've been reading. "Everything is brimming with possibility," he says. "Everything is pointing forward to what is to come. And isn't that the way with spring? It feels sweeter even than the highest summer day because it arrives while winter still holds the earth. Like the birdsong washing over Britain in the pre-dawn, spring emerges from the dark."

    He's right, of course, and the 'dark' has just descended again with the arrival of heavy snow over much of Britain, principally at the moment the central belt of Scotland where everything is closing early and flights and trains have been cancelled. If the video is anything to go by, they seemed to cope better in the olden days ...

Rugby post

    We won (and by a greater margin than last time)!

Owlish

    " ... he is subtext, something present but unseen."

    So says John Lewis-Stempel of the owl, subject of this charming little book of owlish facts, history, and observations.

    Did you know that there have been owls in Britain for a million years? That Florence Nightingale had a pet owl, Athena, now embalmed and in residence in her museum (where you can buy a finger puppet)? That the presence of owls is "a benediction on the land" for what it says about the health of the ecosystem? That the collective noun for owls - other than 'parliament' - is a 'stare'? There's more to the "sage in feathers" than meets the eye.

    The suitably strigine wool, by the way, is 'Owl' by Uschitita, found at Be Inspired Fibres.