‘Charms of Plenty’ by Rosie McGurran at the Lavelle Art Gallery

Painting by Rosie McGurran

 

The Lavelle Art Gallery hosted an exhibition of work by Rosie McGurran this September for Clifden Arts Week. Rosie has had a long association with the gallery and she has shown her work with Gavin in two joint exhibitions, at the Peppercanister Gallery in Dublin and more recently at the Whalley Gallery in County Down. Originally from Belfast and a member of the Royal Ulster Academy, Rosie has lived in Roundstone since 2000.

This exhibition was inspired by the wild flowers of Connemara. June heralds the bog cotton and foxgloves while summer ends with fuschia, heather and montebresia. Rosie gathers these seasonal markers on her daily walks and she has used them to make a series of pastel drawings and paintings. Figures often appear in the work creating a visual narrative, deeply informed by symbolism.

Here are some photos taken during the summer of the work in progress at Rosie’s studio in Roundstone.

 

14141844_10154470285992392_3081387001425341698_n Work in progress at Rosie's studio

 

 

The exhibition was officially opened on the 17th of September by Sheila Pratschke, Chair of the Irish Arts Council of Ireland. It took place in the newly renovated upstairs room of the gallery and ran for the duration of Clifden Arts Week 2016.

Sadly I missed the opening night myself due to a family commitment but here’s a few photos of the gallery space just before the show opened.

 

Rosie Mc Gurran show at the Lavelle Art Gallery

 

 

 

Upstairs at the Lavelle Art Gallery

 

 

Rosie's work at the Lavelle Art Gallery

Exhibitions

Gavin with David Agnew

Gavin with David Agnew at the Toradh Gallery

 

Gavin travelled to Ashbourne in County Meath last Tuesday for the opening of his exhibition in the Toradh Gallery, operated by Meath county council. He delivered the paintings himself in a large car borrowed from one of our neighbours. Transportation of paintings is difficult at the best of times in Ireland and many courier companies refuse to take art at all, for a plethora of insurance reasons. Often the best and most cost efficient way is to do it yourself by hiring or borrowing a large car or van. Fortunately for us, we are surrounded by good neighbours on Main Street with generous hearts and excellent vehicles. Continue reading

September’s Bounty

Two weeks after my last post and still I find myself singing September’s praise.  At the same time, I feel guilty because I haven’t yet found the time to paint as I have been trying to corner all of the dull but essential work that has gathered like old dust over the summer. I find it impossible to be creative with the burden of unfinished chores hanging around, but the end is almost in sight. In spite of this, the month of september has been extraordinary in so many ways. It slunk in surreptitiously after August with a wave of unexpected warmth, some truly breathtaking sunsets and an enormous silvery harvest moon that doesn’t seem to want to leave. This and a small boon of growth in my very own back garden.

 

Hen coop surrounded by Jasmine

Our hen coop festooned with Winter Jasmine

 

 

 

My hen house is looking especially fetching and I fancy that the hens are wondering why so much of nature’s extravagance has been bestowed upon them. One side of the coop is covered in ‘Winter Jasmine’ and the other is laden down with ripening apples. The apple tree came to us in a small pot several years ago from my granny and the jasmine came from Lidl and began it’s life here as a sad little twig. My Dad revealed to me the source of all of this growth when I mentioned it – the hen shit, it’s the hen shit of course!

 

Hens in September

Our hens enjoying the weather and the jasmine

 

 

 

Here’s a few close ups.

 

Close up of ripening apples

Apples almost ready to pick

 

 

 

Winter Jasmine against the sky

Jasmine against a blue sky

 

 

 

Let’s hope the good weather and all it’s bounty lasts a little longer, the signs are good so far..

September Beginnings and Endings

Cover image ‘Sheep in Errislannan’ by Marianne Chayet

(This piece was written for the next issue of the Connemara Journal which will be available in early September. My three children have returned to school and I am looking forward to returning to painting and writing with renewed energy. I will post again soon.)

 

Summer is over – bright pink heathers have dulled and roadside montbretia looks a little battered after recent rain but there is a lushness still to the land and the evenings hold on to the light. It is not uncommon to view September as a time of endings; the end of summer, the end of the holidays, time to weed out plant pots or finish a garden project before the cold weather sets in.

I’ve always thought of September as a time of beginnings – the start of a new school year, time to investigate a new course of study perhaps or take up some exercise. The month of September seems to me to hold a promise of newness and renewal in a more definitive way than the beginning of the calendar year. I loved the smell of new books and pencils as a child and I looked forward to packing my bag for the return to school – I was especially thrilled if I had some new art supplies or if I’d been successful in obtaining a much coveted fluffy pencil case from the local newsagents!

 

 

Maam Cross Landscape with sheep by Alan Kenny

‘Maam Cross Landscape with Sheep’ by Alan Kenny

 

 

 

It is the landscape that reminds me that there are no beginnings or endings. I love to watch the land at this time of year in an effort to grasp those imperceptible changes, the quiet movement from heathery sweet colour into the deep golden hues of Autumn. It is almost impossible to capture the transformation as grasses and plants evolve so fluently and so exquisitely, yet we see them once they are changed. As humans we like to compartmentalise our lives into tidy segments and of course we need this in order to manage our activities but I find it oddly comforting to realise that there are no divisions, only the quiet reassuring passage of time. Ideally this can prompt us into action to make the most of each day but it can also allow us to realise the importance and significance of smaller moments as we salute another September and endeavour to make our own imprint on the world.

 

Kaleidoscope of Autumn by Diana Pivovarova

‘Kaleidoscope of Autumn’ by Diana Pivovarova 

 

Original paintings available at the Lavelle Art Gallery, Clifden ( www.lavelleartgallery.ie ) Our brand new website is under construction but will be going live very soon – stay tuned!

Apple-Ripe September

Ripe apples, back to school, my birthday, blackberries, evening classes, woolen scarves, crispy air and pink skies. These are just some of the things I like about September.

We’ve been collecting apples from our trees for the last few days. We have just two – a crab and an apple blossom. The crab is still young so not enough fruits yet for jelly, but their colour brightens up the garden (below), a last hurrah before the Autumn settles in.

G likes to stew the apple right down to a pulp, then he adds molasses and pours it over yogurt. I like it barely cooked with porridge, a set-me-up for the day, delicious and all the sweeter because it’s our own. It was warm and bright this morning so I took some photos to capture them before they disappear into the kitchen.

 

crab apples

 

 

 

All this talk of September and apples brought the much loved Irish poet Patrick Kavanagh to mind. His poem ‘On An Apple-Ripe September Morning’ with its imagery of early Autumn and the threshing recalls another time. Men folk gathered together to get the crops in, neighbours and friends lending a hand or paying their dues and all the loose chatter and gossip in between. Nature soaks through the lines – mist-chill fields, wet leaves of the cocksfoot and glistening bog-holes. The last verse ends on a note of awe and admiration towards all this beauty  ‘I knew as I had entered that I had come through fields that were part of no earthly estate.’

 

On An Apple-Ripe September Morning

 

On an apple-ripe September morning

Through the mist-chill fields I went

With a pitch-fork on my shoulder

Less for use than for devilment.

 

The threshing mill was set-up, I knew,

In Cassidy’s haggard last night,

And we owed them a day at the threshing

Since last year. O it was delight

 

To be paying bills of laughter

And chaffy gossip in kind

With work thrown in to ballast

The fantasy-soaring mind.

 

As I crossed the wooden bridge I wondered

As I looked into the drain

If ever a summer morning should find me

Shovelling up eels again.

 

And I thought of the wasp’s nest in the bank

And how I got chased one day

Leaving the drag and the scraw-knife behind,

How I covered my face with hay.

 

The wet leaves of the cocksfoot

Polished my boots as I

Went round by the glistening bog-holes

Lost in unthinking joy.

 

I’ll be carrying bags to-day, I mused,

The best job at the mill

With plenty of time to talk of our loves

As we wait for the bags to fill.

 

Maybe Mary might call round…

And then I came to the haggard gate,

And I knew as I entered that I had come

Through fields that were part of no earthly estate.

 

Patrick Kavanagh

(1904 – 1967)