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Rutile

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St John’s Wort in rutile vase

Last July I was going on about the names of all the different plants that grow wild in Frith Wood, as well as discussing the benefits of geophagia for some reason (the eating of mud or clay). I also think worms came into it, somehow. Click here if you want to revisit.

 

meadowsweet

This July, however, I would like to introduce you to Filipendula ulmaria, or meadowsweet. It could be because it was used in the Middle Ages as a sweetener for mead that it gets its name, but take a whiff and it might remind you of something familiar. Its chemical constituents include salicin, which was synthetically altered because it causes less digestive upset than pure salicylic acid used in drugs, and thus aspirin was created. It was Bayer that named it aspirin after meadowsweet’s old botanical name: Spiraea ulmaria.  It does have a whiff of aspirin.

meadowsweet

There is a lot of it now  flourishing on the sides of the roads all over Herefordshire: fluffy, slightly floppy, pale cream bundles framed by the hedges they grow by. I confess that the real reason I mention meadowsweet is to promote the Ledbury Poetry Festival and Edward Thomas’ poem, Adlestrop:

 

Yes. I remember Adlestrop—

The name, because one afternoon

Of heat the express-train drew up there

Unwontedly. It was late June.

The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.

No one left and no one came

On the bare platform. What I saw

Was Adlestrop—only the name

And willows, willow-herb, and grass,

And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,

No whit less still and lonely fair

Than the high cloudlets in the sky.

And for that minute a blackbird sang

Close by, and round him, mistier,

Farther and farther, all the birds

Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.

The Barrett Browning Institute

The Festival this year is mostly online, though there are some great events held in Ledbury itself over the weekend of 9 – 11 July. Click here for all the available events (online and non-online). The Festival is on until 11th July. The Barrett Browning Institute in the town centre  is the Festival’s headquarters, and if you go in you will find Sally Crabtree.

Sally Crabtree

Her latest installation is a sweetshop of conceptual confectionery which offers each member of the public a small gold coin which they can spend on just one thing at the counter and it explores the notion of choice in our lives-“Choose well. Your choice is brief, and yet endless” as Goethe says. It has the feel of a fairground stall with the excitement that each person goes away with a ‘prize’ so to speak. Of more value perhaps however is that each sweet that they choose comes with its own quirky, philosophical inner layer of meaning which they unwrap, depending on what they choose.

Festival A board

And for children… they can fill a jamboree bag with their own creations inspired by the Sweetshop of Words –  including lyrical lollipops, glass sweets and pop a pop a poem balloons!

stonewarew rutile signal vase

As I said in the last blog, the difference between poetry and pottery is only a “t”, and some new pieces have emerged out of the kiln which, if not poetic, are at least expressive.

Wavy rutile vase

The latest batch of ceramics has seen the rise of an ingredient called rutile.   Rutile is a glaze additive that produces colours ranging from light and dark blue, to tan, gold, yellow, and even purple.  It has a mind of its own, depending on the glaze base and the firing conditions and, because it is a mined colorant, its makeup also depends on the mine source. Many potters test their batches of rutile before committing to a full bucket of glaze – all the result of the mineral’s notorious inconsistency. But when it works, it produces many crystalline, speckling, streaking, and mottling effects in glazes during cooling in the kiln and thus it is highly prized by potters.

Wavy rutile vase verso

Of course, here at Peter Arscott Ceramics, and following in the contrarian, or maybe heedless, tradition, rutile is not used in this way at all but rather mixed as a powder with water and a viscous agent to produce a colourant that can be applied like paint to the bisque surface of the piece, and then dipped in a transparent glaze. In other words, it is not used as a glaze but as a colour that gives the object’s surface an effect halfway between wood and honey. See for yourselves.

rutile close-up

By the way, Brits pronounce it “root ill” and Americans say “root isle”, which I prefer. On the other hand, and digressing wildly, why do Americans say “rowt” when they want to say “route”? Answers please. And since we are on the subject, why do they pronounce “rubbish” as “garbage” and “chips” as “french fries”? I am sure that at least one of the three American readers of this blog will tell me in no uncertain terms.

my friend Edith

I got know a resident sparrow, called Edith, busy looking for anything to feed its chicks in their nest in the roof’s gutter. Luckily they were not flooded out, and I felt so sorry for her that I bought a  bag of mealy worms. She didn’t want to land on my outstretched hand but was OK on the table, where she would occasionally forget herself and leave a calling card. The fledglings have now flown, and she has lost all interest in visiting.  Spurned by a sparrow.

Goodbye, May

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rain clouds over Ledbury

When I went for a long walk up to Bradlow Knoll and beyond, the day had decided to let rip and unload all of its stored water down onto Frith Wood and onto the lone walker struggling along its already slimy paths. It meant that all one’s concentration was on not slipping, rather than on looking around at the flora and fauna, so these images were taken towards the end of the trudge, when the clouds parted, and the path was level.

bluebells

It turns out that on Friday 21 May , the UK experienced 91% of its expected rainfall for the entire month, with approximately 63.5mm having already fallen. The wettest May on record was in 1967, when 131.7mm of rain fell across the month.

buttercup

It is not the first time the UK has experienced unusual weather this year. April was the frostiest on record, with an average of 13 days of air frosts reported for the UK, topping the 11 days seen in April 1970. Last year, the UK experienced its sunniest spring and driest May since records began with 626 hours of bright sunshine recorded for the UK, exceeding the previous high (555 hours, set in 1948) by more than 70 hours.

bumblebee and bugle

As May transitions into June, we can only hope for dry sunny weather, though the British are, by and large, wary of getting carried away, and will have nurtured low expectations in order not to let disappointment overwhelm them. Is this why, when we go abroad to guaranteed sunshine, and we know we needn’t harbour any circumspection, we allow our inner buoyancy to bubble up and take over? This would explain the uncontrolled alcohol intake, the flippant balcony jumping, the skin-flaking sunburns, the nudity and cross-dressing, the dread of going back home.

The weather and the Brits. What would we talk about without it? It helps us overcome our social inhibitions, but there are rules when conducting these weather-related conversations. Firstly, the topic will almost always be introduced as a form of question and the person answering must agree, otherwise it is quite a serious breach of etiquette. Go on, try it out next time someone says “Cold, isn’t it?” and you say “No.”

dandelion don’t tell no lies. Click here

As for pottery, weather plays a part too. When freshly-made pieces are drying, the dry part will pull on the wet and crack the pottery prior to firing. The best way to avoid this is to dry everything in the shade, but since a humid or wet climate ensures that the pottery will retain its moisture, even after a week, it is best to give the pottery an extra week or even two – the longer the better.

slow dry

And to make sure it dries evenly during the first few days, a plastic bag over each piece is a good idea, otherwise you find parts that are attached to the main body dry too fast and hairline fractures only become bigger visible cracks after the final firing.  This can be deeply disheartening when you’ve put all your energy into one vase in particular, only to discover the fracture after the final hurdle. I’m sure it explains why so many potters turn to drink.

more bluebells

Going back 107 years to June 1914, I see that the month was cool and unsettled, alternating with dry, warm and sunny conditions. On the 8th the maximum temperature was only 13.4°C., and a severe thunderstorm, with hail, produced over 33mm of rain on the 14th. There were many dry and fairly sunny days during the second half of June, and during the last few days of the month it became increasingly warm, and eventually hot. On the 30th, it was sunny all day and the afternoon temperature reached 29°C.

Edward Thomas photo by Frederick Evans

I mention this because this was precisely the weather the poet Edward Thomas was remembering when he wrote “The sun used to shine”. It was the summer he and Robert Frost spent together in the Ledbury area, one of the great literary friendships which ended with Thomas’s death at Arras in 1917. I like to think they took the same paths along the Frith wood, as many of us here still do – they were great walkers. Despite my best research, they do not seem to have any particular interest in ceramics, even though the only difference between poetry and pottery is a “t”.

“Frost’s footfall” is an essay I have written about the two for The Common, a literary organisation based at Amherst College that publishes writing that embodies particular times and places, and where Robert Frost taught for forty years. Click here to read it.

 

The Ledbury Poetry Festival has been going for 25 years, and this July (2 – 11) will be offering us digital encounters with poets such as Margaret Atwood, Jorie Graham, Andrew McMillan, Jackie Kay, Fred D’Aguiar, Billy Collins, Fiona Sampson, as well as Mexican, Zimbabwean, Chinese, Slovakian and Belarusian voices, and puppetry, a poetry sweet shop, bingo, an interactive digital poetry trail…. Click here for more details.

betony – the stateliest of small flowers

 

The sun used to shine while we two walked

Slowly together, paused and started

Again, and sometimes mused, sometimes talked

As either pleased, and cheerfully parted

 

Each night. We never disagreed

Which gate to rest on. The to be

And the late past we gave small heed.

We turned from men or poetry

 

To rumours of the war remote

Only till both stood disinclined

For aught but the yellow flavorous coat

Of an apple wasps had undermined;

 

Or a sentry of dark betonies,

The stateliest of small flowers on earth,

At the forest verge; or crocuses

Pale purple as if they had their birth

 

In sunless Hades fields. The war

Came back to mind with the moonrise

Which soldiers in the east afar

Beheld then. Nevertheless, our eyes

 

Could as well imagine the Crusades

Or Caesar’s battles. Everything

To faintness like those rumours fade—

Like the brook’s water glittering

 

Under the moonlight—like those walks

Now—like us two that took them, and

The fallen apples, all the talks

And silence—like memory’s sand

 

When the tide covers it late or soon,

And other men through other flowers

In those fields under the same moon

Go talking and have easy hours.

 

moonpot

Ledbury (part 2)

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spring vase

What is the difference between pottery and poetry, other than the extra “t”?

I don’t know, though I could go on about how playing with clay, twisting it into shapes, applying glazes in a particular way, to make an object “speak” so that it is more than the sum of its various parts, is not unlike playing with language so that a poem emerges that engages or surprises you. But I won’t.

jumblepot

Instead, I will present you with more reasons to visit Ledbury, including not only a look at the new ceramic pieces now being shown at John Nash but also the opportunities to combine eating and drinking with some gentle therapeutic shopping followed by, say, a walk in the Herefordshire countryside now that the wild daffodils will be in full bloom by the end of March.

wave fruitbowl

This is daff country. As you’ll see, they still grow wild but are no longer picked and sold commercially as they were up to the middle of the last century. Loaded onto train known as “The Daffodil Express”, it was big business, and GWR ran specials for the pickers who were mostly gypsies from Kent and day trippers. Walks are now organised to see them at their best – no picking encouraged.

Matisse vase

These small plants appear every Spring and transform the local landscape, specially around the Dymock area which becomes very popular with visitors who can take the various walks designed as circular routes that take in the many associations with the poets who lived in the area at the outbreak of the First World War. Aha, back to poetry.

anglepot

This was a group of like-minded poets who got to know each other, mostly in London, so that when the best-known of these, Lascelles Abercrombie, moved to Ryton, the others followed. Thus you have the coming together, for subtly different reasons and agendas, of people like the American Robert Frost, Wilfrid Gibson, Arthur Ransome (Swallows and Amazons), W H Davies (the Supertramp), Edward Thomas, John Drinkwater, Ivor Gurney and so on.

Lascelles Abercrombie, by the way, may be largely forgotten nowadays but he was the “go-to” poet at the time, and a man with a sense of humour. When challenged to a duel by the argumentative Ezra Pound and was asked to choose the weapons, he suggested they bombard each other with unsold copies of their poetry.

Back in Ledbury however, peer into the Master’s House, the recently refurbished medieval building that is the Ledbury library and houses the poet laureate John Masefield collection – yes, he was born here. Across the High Street is the Painted Room, another medieval set of rooms which display, among other things, the poet W.H.Auden’s marriage certificate – yes, he got married here to Thomas Mann’s daughter.

moonpot

But enough poetry, what about something to eat? Try the Malthouse on Church Lane – fabulous pancakes with maple syrup, and Eggs Benedict, and if you’re there for Sunday brunch (booking advisable) get Jim to make you a proper Bloody Mary. The best in the West Midlands.

tuttifrutti jug

But do drop in at John Nash’s and have a look at the ceramics, some are a little different from the vases; more sculptural as they are best viewed in the round, and give the appearance of having been made out of different fragments bonded together – in fact they are all made out of the usual stoneware and built up, bisque fired to 1000 degrees, hand painted and then glaze fired at 1275 degrees.

wild daffs

Just in case you can’t wait to sip a Bloody Mary, here’s how to make one:
Place the ice in a large jug. Measure a splosh of vodka, a small tin of tomato juice and lemon juice and pour it straight onto the ice. Add 3 shakes of Worcestershire sauce and Tabasco and a pinch of celery salt and pepper. Stir until the outside of the jug feels cold, then strain the cocktail into 2 tall glasses. Top up with fresh ice, add a celery stick and lemon slice to both glasses. Delicious (and surely nourishing).

Strike hands with me. The glass is brim. The dew is on the heather. And love is good, and life is long, and friends are best together.

 

pottery/ poetry in Wales

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landscape vase

Driving through the countryside in Herefordshire and then on to Wales is a captivating experience. Perhaps it is the winding roads and the rising and falling of the horizon as you make your way past meadows, hills and then mountains. Small hamlets, castles in ruins, the occasional farmhouse, all punctuate the drive to Abergavenny and, if you are brave enough to do so on a cold January morning, lowering the window will reward you with a steady blast of the cleanest air garnished every mile or so with a whiff of soggy river bank or wet grass or diesel from a tractor as it turns off into a field.

the mouth of the river of blacksmiths

Yes, Abergavenny was my destination. Aber, from the Welsh for “mouth” (of a river) and gofannon, which is Middle Welsh for “blacksmith” and subsequently the name given to the local river, the Gavenny. The reference to blacksmiths relates to the town’s pre-Roman importance in iron smelting. However, my mind was not concentrating on these facts but rather on the strange fusion of cricket, poetry, Nazism, and, of course, ceramics that this town’s history brings together within its old stone walls.

Poetry allusions are plentiful in beautiful Wales, but this town was where Owen Sheers was born – poet, playwright, novelist and actor, and as I say whenever I get the opportunity, the only difference between “poetry” and “pottery” is the letter “t”. Click here to visit his website, and, if you are interested, I can tell you that he is booked to come to the Ledbury Poetry Festival this July.

Malcolm Nash

From poetry to cricket is an easy jump, given the many poems written about this game. For those of you who do not know the rules I would need a whole blog to explain them but allow me to mention writers like Les Murray, A.E.Housman, Harold Pinter and perhaps the best-known, Henry Newbolt (“There’s a breathless hush in the Close tonight…”). One of the most remembered moments in the game took place on 31st August 1968 when the great left hander Gary Sobers became the first batsman ever to hit six “sixes” in a single over of six consecutive balls in first-class cricket. We all remember Gary, but who thinks about the man who bowled those balls? Step forward Malcolm Nash, born in Abergavenny, and forever Garfield Sobers’ partner in cricket history. “My goodness”, says the commentator of the last ball, “it’s gone all the way to Swansea” – click here to see it.

But I digress. I was in Abergavenny to deliver some pieces to the Art Shop and Chapel. Regular exhibitions of fine and applied arts are held at the Art Shop, where artists’ materials can also be bought, while just down the road at the Chapel readings and performances take place with artists, musicians and poets, and you can eat at the Chapel Kitchen too, all ingredients locally produced – something for everyone, from meat-eater to vegan.

The Chapel – music, poetry and food

The town is small enough to make wandering around in it a pleasure, and if you like your food the place is great for world-class mountain lamb, venison, Y Fenni cheese, pastries, beer and cider – unsurprising since every September it is the stage for Wales’s biggest food festival, set in stunning area surrounded by green hills, including the Sugarloaf that looks down on the town.

Abergavenny Market

But I know what you are thinking. What about the Nazis? Well, OK. On the road to or from Abergavenny you will drive pasty a large stone ruin called Skenfrith, built in 1066 to protect the route from Hereford to Wales and now largely visited by passing tourists. One such was Rudolf Hess, a leading member of the Nazi party of Germany.

Skenfrith

Deputy Fuhrer to Adolph Hitler, he served in this position until 1941, when he flew solo to Scotland in an attempt to negotiate peace with the United Kingdom. He was taken prisoner and eventually convicted of crimes against peace, serving a life sentence until his suicide. They had to keep him somewhere straight after his capture, so he was kept under escort at Maindiff Court Hospital for a while and paraded before the cameras and even allowed out on sightseeing trips – he was apparently known locally as the “Kaiser of Abergavenny”.

You will need a coffee when you are there. Go no further than the Chapel – the coffee is seriously good. The kitchen and cafe make breakfasts, lunch and suppers, starting with fresh soda bread every morning.

 

Hwyl fawr