Kanst du das Land, wo zitronen bluhn,
Im dunklen laub die goldorangen gluhn,
Im dunklen laub die goldorangen gluhn,
Ein sanfter Wind vom blauen himmel weht,
Die Myrte still und hoch der Lorbeer stedt?
To London last week and a busy schedule; two parties, a couple of exhibitions and a trip to Cambridge - but more of that in a later post. And all the time, unfortunately incubating a chest infection.
I was actually in London for the Traditional Architecture Group Awards, held, as usual, at the Art Workers Guild in Bloomsbury. Two speeches were made that evening that were both a bit above the ordinary; the first from Ben Pentreath and the other by the winner of the Life Time Achievement Award, Craig Hamilton.
Ben made a tangential reference to our current cultural difficulties by reference, correctly, to Mao's Cultural Revolution. Mention was made of the 'Four Olds' that were the targets of the revolutionary mobs - old ideas, old culture, old customs, old habits. He acknowledged that the older he grew the greater his attachment to the the four olds grew. It was both a warning of things to come in the short term and a rallying point & call to action. A more optimistic speech, perhaps, than my brief description suggests.
Ben made a tangential reference to our current cultural difficulties by reference, correctly, to Mao's Cultural Revolution. Mention was made of the 'Four Olds' that were the targets of the revolutionary mobs - old ideas, old culture, old customs, old habits. He acknowledged that the older he grew the greater his attachment to the the four olds grew. It was both a warning of things to come in the short term and a rallying point & call to action. A more optimistic speech, perhaps, than my brief description suggests.
Craig Hamilton's speech was brief - one felt that he found public speaking a bit of a task. Modest too, even humble. What he did do however, much to my pleasure, was quote from Goethe - the quotation at the top of this post. It translates as follows:
Do you know the land where the lemon flowers,
In dark leaves the golden oranges glow,
a soft wind blows the from pure blue sky,
The Myrtle still, and the laurel tree high?
It is a poem of longing for the south and, by extension, the Classical past. It reminds me of the trips south made by the British Gothic Revival architect Sir Ninian Comper. It was, and I can't emphasize this enough, so good to hear a serious writer, or thinker quoted publicly in a speech. All too often these days, and especially amongst politicians, it is a rare thing. One wants a bit more heft. Is that really too much to ask for?
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