art

Memorial to a Marriage

Hand to hand,

Toe to toe,
Nose to nose, close… You exhale I breathe in.
It’s the morning, before the papers,
There’s sleep in your eyes,
Dreamy half-whispered words
Surf along the sunrise.
We are golden
in this embrace,
formed out of grace, and patience.
We love,
Which every law in every land
Says we do not deserve.
There’s a defiance in the warmth,
A roar in the whispers
Edges to the tummy rolls
and curves of thighs
and the heft.
The permanence of stone or bronze challenges –
“Test our mettle”
If you won’t make space,
we’ll make a monument to ourselves

E.C.

In response to Patricia Cronin’s sculpture, Memorial to a Marriage. 

 

a silver sculpture in the shape of dna

Hidden Sculptures in Glasgow – the Fab Four

Now the weather is getting bright it’s time for more walks and wanders. If you find yourself at a loose end in the city why not take a tour and stop by some of these hidden sculptural gems.

The Hunterian at The University of Glasgow

The Hunterian, soon to turn 300 years old, has its very own sculpture garden adjacent to the Art Gallery off University Avenue. This little haven is a sun trap in the summer and is mostly discovered accidentally. A lovely spot for lunch.

a bell top towerTop of Lantern, 1901, Mackintosh, pic courtesy Hunterian

Maggie’s Centre

Cross through the University campus and make your way towards the far end of Argyle Street. Maggie’s Cancer Care Centre hosts a DNA spiral which you can see in passing from street level. It was created by co-founder of Maggie’s Cancer Care Centres Charles Jencks, also responsible for the one day a year wonder, the Garden of Cosmic Speculation.

a silver sculpture in the shape of dnaMaggie’s Centre Glasgow, DNA seat with twisted
waveform, Charles Jencks, 2002-2003

Renfrew Street

We’re off to the City Centre now. Hope on a bus or take a stroll to Charing Cross. Once there, look up, and say hello to Beethoven. On Renfrew Street (the other side of Sauchiehall Street) a Beethoven bust looks out from this B-listed building upon the locals. Above what used to be a former piano shop, T A Ewing’s Piano and Harmonium Emporium,  it was sculpted by the owner’s brother, James Alexander Ewing.

a bust of BeethovenBeethoven, James Alexander Ewing, circa 1897 pic Geograph.org

Merchant City

Continue down and while familiar to University of Strathclyde students if you’re not a resident of the area you’re in for a treat. Rottenrow Gardens used to be the location of a former maternity hospital, The Rottenrow, opened 1834. Now demolished, the archways remain and in tribute a metal sculpture of a giant safety pin. So the story goes, pregnant women were walked up and down the steep hill to stimulate labour – and it worked!

a safety pin sculpture in gardensMonument to Maternity/Mhtpothta, George Wylie, 2004

There are many wonderful sculptures distributed across the city, what others are your favourites?

After Winter

Last Spring I discovered that when the right eyes catch you in their light, you are seen. Aubrey was like the sunrise after a winter of Nordic nights. She brought a chance to start again, everything reset, you could be the person you wished you were the day before.

Aubre was direct, strong and had the ability to pierce whatever surface wore her reflection. Like slivers of sun-flares, burnt diamonds, she got under my skin. I was full of her.

In a short space of time, feelings grew like stems emerging from seed. Bursting like a river through a barrage, they flew.

I didn’t need to worry about letting myself go, risking running empty, because we were part of this together, me and Aubr . It was a cycle of replenishment, a process that couldn’t be seen but the consequences of which could be felt, proving its existence.

To and fro and back and forth, we exchanged parts of ourselves. As one person evaporated they were filled by the contents of the other.

Combining rushes of water and light left rainbow colours in our wake, a new spectrum for us. Aub danced bright, and I felt like I would never be afraid of the dark again.

—

Au was buoyed, Merle filled her from the tips of her toes to the whirls at the top of her crown.

Merl was rooted. She was strength, non-judgmental, with a sweetness to rival amber. A envied her.

Mer couldn’t fight what was to erupt, unchecked, from her heart. Leaving marks, like bark when its rings are marred with scars. Nurturing warmth turned scorched, their crossed paths were left parched.

Me was no longer doused by      to obscure or salve her wounds. The rush of elements stopped as abruptly as it started.      would have tried to hide a roll of her eyes at being described as ‘elements’. M would have blushed, nudging her love with a lightness of touch.

The ferocity of fire was left to burn itself out, incrementally; a violent, unwanted, renewal.

was glad not to face these consequences.

still searched for diamonds in the amber.

EC

Image by Victoria Morton
Source: generationartscotland.org/artists/victoria-morton/