Paintings
Last year's exhibitions were devoted to illustrating The Windhover, by Gerard Manley Hopkins - all were sold to local buyers, for which many thanks.
This year I shall be exhibiting, amongst others, 4 landscapes of Cornish tin mines at ArtFest - please see events page.
Photos to follow when they're dry!
I caught this morning morning’s minion, king-
dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon
in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy!
Then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend; the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird--the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!
Brute beauty and valor and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle!
AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
No wonder of it;
shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.
Commentary
The windhover is a generic name for a bird of prey, and Hopkins describes how, early one morning, he caught sight of one hovering above him, and was moved to pen ‘the best thing I ever wrote’.
Six new paintings which depict our local red kites and which illustrate the poem will be exhibited at this year's summer exhibitions - ArtFest and h.Art.
Hopkins thinks of the bird in two contrasting ways: one, as the minion or servant of daybreak, but also the Dayspring from on High, the prince, or dauphin, Son of God the King. Seen through the dappled colours of the dawn, its wings quivering and tense, it rides the air like a knight or chevalier on horseback moving with steady control of the rein, sitting high and proud. The bird’s motion is equally controlled, now suspended in an ecstatic moment of concentrated energy, then sliding through the sky like an ice skater making a turn, first matching the wind's force in order to stay still, then rebuff (ing) the big wind with his forward propulsion. At the same moment, Hopkins feels his own heart stir. Reflecting on the achieve of, the mastery of the bird's performance, its beauty, valour, and act, he finds that it evokes for him the glory of Christ’s ministry. Then, as the bird dives on its prey, its wings buckle, a glorious fire issues forth, and this action becomes a metaphor for the Crucifixion.
The beauty of the poem lies in the way Hopkins integrates his masterful description of the bird's absolute being with an account of his own heart's response, which engages with the natural brute beauty of the bird’s flight, but which is a mere spark compared with the glory of Christ, whose grandeur and spiritual power are a billion times told lovelier, more dangerous (or challenging) to the hidden heart.
Hopkins, realizing that his own heart was in hiding, or not fully committed to his purpose, draws inspiration from the bird's – or Christ’s – perfectly self-contained, self-reflecting action. Just as hovering is most distinctive for the windhover, he feels that spiritual striving is our most essential aspect. Yet, although at the fullness of our moral nature, we achieve something great, that greatness necessarily pales in comparison with Christ’s ultimate act of self-sacrifice.
This spiritual striving is contrasted with our daily physical striving – the sheer plod of survival. It suggests that there is a glittering, luminous core to every individual, like newly-ploughed soil reflecting light from above – the sillion shine, or of blue-bleak embers breaking open to reveal a smouldering interior. Hopkins words this image in order to relate the concept back to the Crucifixion: the verb gash suggests the wounding of Christ's body and the shedding of his kingly gold-vermilion blood.
*****
