SUNDAY, HOLIDAY WEEK... (My new poem inspired by a Peter Brook painting...)

 Sunday, Holiday Week…

(Inspired by Peter Brook’s painting…)

The factories and mills, like the folks who lounge nearby,

Wear their Sunday best too, as unencumbered by smoke, 

They bask in their idle austerity, buildings of dull gold,

Brickwork blackened in places, yet curiously serene and wry.

Rows of grim windows offer the workforce a minimum of light or resolution,

Whilst waterside rails, flimsy at best, angle askew like spindly representations

Of groynes on North Sea beaches. The redundant stack stands tall and smokeless

As a gush of used water tips into the cut, adding to the industrial pollution.

The buildings seem to stretch up clear of the pallid canal’s hidden murk 

And as several loiterers stand and chat, maybe thinking about 

A drink or two at the pub, one chap, stick in hand, fag in his mouth

Becomes a spectral reminder of where factory dangers continue to lurk…   

Pete Ray…

27th February 2026…

Love this painting…

I recall similar scenes around Birmingham’s city centre canals, in which my father learned to swim as a youngster…

In the painting, the water reflects light but likely hides an evil stench and indescribable filth…

The thoughts of The Sand Martin...

‘Unlike so many industrial paintings this has a light and airy feel, possibly reflecting the relief of holiday week when workers had brief respite from long hours of hard grinding labour.

The buildings, canal wall and chimney are an unusual shade of bland murky yellow and this is the dominant colour of the scene along with the contrasting startling white seen in the canal. 

The canal flows out between the stark workplaces and right into the foreground. Together with the clear, sharp angles of the buildings the perspective is such that we look back up into the painting to the huge main chimney rising high up. 

The dark murky shades at the side of the canal and a running outflow suggest pollution and unpleasant contents lurking beneath the sparkling surface. 

A few people look down from an elevated walkway adjacent to one building. 

Somehow waterways are always appealing to the senses and the movement of water creates a dynamic aspect to this scene that onlookers would find mesmerising, peaceful and calming.

The way in which a limited palette is used to such effect is impressive. It is a rather colourless painting but the use of perspective creates a very compelling picture that tells a clear story.

A bland sky painted in a yellow-grey enhances the feeling of this as being a bleak place. 

After a week’s grace the chimneys will again be relentlessly bellowing foul smoke up into the sky and it will again be a hive of industry. 

Within those grim walls workers will be remembering their week of freedom from work and longing for their next holiday week...’

THE GARDEN OF EDEN... (My new poem inspired by Hugh Goldwin Rivière's 1901 painting...)

 The Garden Of Eden, 1901…

(Inspired by Hugh Goldwin Rivière’s painting…)

Edwardian London, dank and dull, lies dismal after rain,

As a horse-drawn cab for custom awaits, almost misted 

And inconspicuous upon a busy Kensington street,

Adjoining the Gardens, where two avid lovers stroll.

Surreptitiously, their hands clutch like they will never let go, 

His demeanour is eager, his admiration for her clear,

Whilst her face is alight with esteem and a thrill sincere.

And unchaperoned they saunter, oblivious of propriety and disdain…   

Edwardian London, thirteen years on, during the strain

Of World War One, has the gentleman enlisted

As an officer? Was he posted to France to follow the war’s drum’s beat? 

Had he been killed in action, or had shellshock taken its toll?   

Did she take daily walks through the park to ponder the woe

Of waiting for letters written from the Front? And did she feel fear?

   Would she ever again stroll with her husband, her lover held so dear,

In their Garden Of Eden, holding hands in the rain?

Pete Ray…

26th February 2026…

I was really taken by this painting and although the year was 1901, I wondered hypothetically whether the fellow would later have been involved in WW1 and how his lady-friend might have been affected…

In truth, the artist’s sister-in-law, Beatrice Langdon-Davies was the model for the woman in the painting and her real life husband-to-be, Percy Silley, an architect, was the chap.

Although engaged, a chaperone was indeed used at the scene whilst the picture was being prepared in the park.

The couple married soon after the painting had been completed…

The thoughts of The Sand Martin...

‘A walk in the park at the turn of the last century strongly evokes thoughts of a bygone age with Victorian/Edwardian apparel. Given the time in history the couple here display an unusual degree of affection in a public place.

The figures dominate the picture with the gentleman being placed almost mid-centre as the shorter figure of the lady looks up into his face. One wonders about the relationship. It could be romantic or familial as she grasps his hand and looks pleased. His face is turned away and towards his companion, so no hint of his emotion is visible but he does have an ungloved hand held between her gloved hands indicating a close relationship of some kind. One can only wonder and conjecture.

All hats, coats and footwear are painted in grey and black tones and although difficult to achieve, we see every detail very clearly and even the dark umbrella is clearly defined.

The face of the young lady is beautiful and exquisitely painted such that it is the immediate focus of the picture. Her face appears almost illuminated. Sensitive pale skin tones achieve remarkable detail, even to the veins on the back of the gentleman’s one hand and his thumbnail on the other.

The sweeping curve of the footpath and the stance of the gentleman add a dynamic aspect to the painting as they are most obviously walking. Although the rain has stopped, the impressionistic use of misty yellow and blue-grey shades in the picture portray wet weather wonderfully. 

The couple are subtly reflected in the wet path. The footpath, railings, trees and seat nearby are quite ethereal. 

The dark trunk of an adjacent mature tree reflects into the wet path as the couple walk towards it. Is this a metaphor for what lies ahead? Again one can only conjecture and hope that there will be many more happy moments in life for these young people, so charmingly captured in long gone times…’

BIRDS SPOTTED IN THE REAR GARDEN DURING RECENT DAYS...

 

BEACH IN SHADE... (My new poem inspired by a Paul Evans painting...)

 Beach In Shade…

(Inspired by a Paul Evans painting…)

To find myself there would entice from within me such emotion.

The enigmatic sky, daubed with colour like a palette unwashed, 

Mesmerises, the myriad hues rippling above a base of grey,

Tantalisingly reflect across the deserted low-tide shore…

The hunched headland pays tribute to a pallid, silver-green ocean,

Its neat waves tumbling with a controlled serenity. And unabashed

It creeps landward in an attempt to suck, regain and drag away

The small stones and shells stranded by a previous tide’s ferocious furore… 

The groynes, some buried deep into the sand and subject to erosion,

Hold their ground like remnants from trench warfare, lashed

By weathering, drenched and hauled at by the sea’s devious affray,  

But silhouetted they still stand, resolutely defensive to their very core…  

Pete Ray…

25th February 2026…

Loved the painting…

Superb sky, a desolate shore and I wanted to be there…

The groynes are just remarkable…

The thoughts of The Sand Martin...

‘A glorious day is turning towards twilight as the last glints of golden sunlight fall upon the sea, turning it silver white with small highlights of pale blue as it laps the shore.

The sky is an astonishingly beautiful sight painted in a smooth grey with white clouds sitting in front of bright turquoise dashes, along with the gold foil effects of the sunlight. It occupies roughly half of the painting and is mesmerising in its dramatic effect.

To the forefront of the painting the pale yellow beige sand is sprayed with small dark pebbles and perhaps shells that merge into the dark grey beach reaching towards the sea as the sun is going down.

The rows of groynes amplify both the width and the depth of the beach and being painted almost black they lead the eye down and outwards towards the strikingly silver-white sea. They add a sense of both space and perspective to the whole scene.

In the far distance a huge headland with an apparently sheer cliff-face rises up from the beach. In the fading light the rolling, dark green clifftop is just about visible as the day moves towards a stunningly beautiful twilight. 

These moments in reality are short lasting but captured in this impressive painting they become permanent and enjoyed forever…’