Own work: Collage

      My latest collage - 23.4 x 30.0 cms, mixed media.

Own work: The Rustiche of Sebastiano Serlio XXVII

     Been a bit tardy in posting this, still 'better late than never'.  The usual rules apply.

over the hills and far away.... II

     From one atmospheric church to another: the numinous St Michael, Myddfai. Myddfai is a very small but immensely attractive village, a meeting of three roads - think of the letter 'Y' or, better still, a cocktail glass with the church as the olive in the martini.  The feel is, oddly, just a little urban.
     The church is a delight, hardly any clutter and filled with light.  There are old floors and limewashed walls.  As at Llanddeusant the church consists of two naves separated by an arcade and roofed with wooden barrel vaults, all however on a larger, more spacious scale.  Hard to believe that the church has been restored three times since 1870.  Some good fittings too in the way of memorials and the like: in the porch is an early eighteenth century slab commemorating two of the 'Physicians of Myddfai', David Jones and his son also called David; and in the N chancel some ledger stones including one to Henry Owen, that also commemorating also his uncle the Laudian cleric Morgan Owen - Laud's chaplain, commissioner the s porch of St Mary the Virgin in Oxford from Nicholas Stone (1637) and from 1639, Bishop of Llandaff.  The Civil War prevented him from taking up his position and he died in 1644, being buried here in his childhood village. There used to be a proper monument but it was broken up in the 19th century. A pity. The liturgical fittings aren't up to much but that is of small report when the church itself is so beautiful and atmospheric.

over the hills and far away... I

     Over the Black Mountain on Saturday to the beautiful, remote hill-country (where it is the lambing season) between the Twyi valley and the mountain, a continuation, if you will, of the landscape around Carreg Cennen Castle, which I have written about before. A lyrical landscape. Timeless.  Le Pays de Galles Profonde.
     Off the mountain we drove through narrow winding roads in search of Llanddeusant and its Late Medieval church dedicated to Ss Simon and Jude.  The name means 'church of the two saints' and could equally refer to a meeting of St Teilo and St David which is believed to have occurred here.
     The village is tiny - just a handful of dwellings - perched on the ridge above the deep valley of the Sawdde. Noticeably colder than Swansea up there too! And there the church stands, humble after the truncation of its west tower.  The inside is a surprise, and wonderfully atmospheric - packing, for such a small building, a great emotional punch. Colder, if at all possible, than outside. There are two spacious naves divided by an arcade of almost primitive strength.  No furnishings of note (Oh, lets be honest here, some of them are downright wrong!) except the two late medieval wooden tunnel vaults, the ribs all silvery with age, yet somehow what a church should be.

Own work: Latest Collage

     Finally completed my latest collage, and a new direction for me - my first use of perspective.  otherwise everything essentially remains the same: mixed media collage (including handmade marbled paper) on watercolour board.

Henrhyd Falls

     This last week's jaunt took us to Henrhyd falls on the eastern side of the Tawe valley where the Nant Llech has cut a deep, tree-filled gorge in the hillside as it spills down from the southern edge of the Brecon Beacons to join the Tawe opposite Ynyswen.  I wasn't at all prepared for what we saw - there simply is no sign in the rather bleak landscape of either gorge or falls.  It wasn't until we left the car and entered what appeared to be simply a wood and the path began to steeply descend that we found ourselves in what I can only now describe as an enchanted place - the faint at first but growing sound of the falls, the increasing coolness and dappled, deepening shade, the glimpses of falling water through the still bare trees, the luxuriant vibrant green moss carpeting the ground.  

     It was a long and at times steep path down to the valley floor and a further path snaking up the gorge through a tangle of fallen trees to the falls - neither paths, it has to be said, are advisable for some.  It is only then, after all that walking, did the falls truly reveal themselves, and as I've said I wasn't really prepared for it, and I'm still not sure how to describe my experience. It's easy to give the odd fact; the silvery rush and tumble of the water as it drops some ninety feet (the highest in south Wales) into a curved pool, the contrast to the dark welsh stone that forms a sort of amphitheatre like a pair of welcoming arms; but to describe that deep, almost tangible spiritual presence of the place another. In Japan this would be sacred place with a rope of rice straw or hemp - a shimenawa - hung between trees and festooned with shide (paper streamers) to demarcate the spiritual, the pure, from the secular; and indeed standing there in the presence of something quite awesome it felt a long way from the 'external world of telegrams and anger' of the political events in Westminster.  And, to be frank, a certainly more spiritual place than many churches visited for this blog.  I shan't name them!

All Saints, Oystermouth

     Last week's jaunt was to the parish church of All Saints, Oystermouth, one of the communities that make up The Mumbles on the south east tip of Gower. This church has a long history, dating perhaps to the very earliest Middle Ages, and a Roman structure, possibly a villa, stood there in Antiquity. Tempting to see some sort of continuity there.

     However to look at it from some angles you would be forgiven for not believing any of this at all.  From the north and east all that can be really seen is the very large extension - essentially a new church - designed by W L Barnard of Cheltenham and dating from 1915. However the tower, in good plain welsh style, is late Medieval and the s aisle is earlier still.  Except that the south aisle isn't really that at all but the much handled old nave of the church, and the e chapel (older still) is the former chancel. All of this old work is constructed of rubble masonry, grey and black and hoary. Barnard's extension is built of browner quarry faced masonry and limestone dressings, possibly Bath stone, and is somewhat staid for though designed in a full, luxuriant (and English) Perp style that particular masonry finish almost gives the design a hint of muscular High Victorian Gothic, of solid (if not stolid) Victorian Middle Class comfort. Earth bound. If not downright dull.  All that said there some interesting architectural moments on the outside; the gargoyles are on the n aisle rather fine, as is the door to the n vestry. And then there is the contemporary w porch - the least said about that car crash the better.
     The interior continues with the late Victorian common sense and produces something that decidedly lacks the numinous.  The first thing that strikes the visitor is the breadth - the nave is unusually wide, horizontal when one would expect it, being Gothic, to be vertical.  The other features that some would take exception to, the unequal height of the arcades and narrow n aisle I really like and add a little necessary piquancy.  I do find however the interior. which is really quite complex both spatially and historically, lacks integration, perhaps a dose of whitewash would help integrate the whole and add some of the numinous quality that is lacking.  Barnard's details though are rather good, screen and woodwork especially.  The reredos of the High Altar is a rather curious design, sub SSPP, that dates from 1951 and was made by The Faith Craft-Works.

   Actually this visit was not a little unpleasant. I arrived just after a service and was treated with suspicion, if not hostility by a member of the congregation who suspected me of taking photographs for financial gain. I won't be returning.