Every five or six years we are fortunate enough to be able to hold an exhibition of ceramics by

Maureen Minchin

Although we still have a few months before our next occasion I thought that maybe

I should make a small mention of it now as we have already started to receive calls and emails

from different collectors

They have all wanted to confirm the date of the opening as they intend to book a local hotel

for the weekend.

This is not exactly normal for an exhibition but nothing to do with Maureen ever is.

The last time we exhibited her work there was a queue formed outside the gallery when I arrived

some three hours before the opening.

Her ceramics have always been highly collected but now she is featured in London Auctions

it seems her ceramics have been discovered much further afield than Suffolk.

We often have calls from different countries, with people asking when we might have more in stock.

The answer is always the same

"We don't know, five years maybe".

 Although she was originally a potter from Suffolk, long ago she left us

And now lives in a very remote part of Scotland.

At the beautiful location where she now lives there are few houses and even fewer people,

But she has become very involved and an important part of the scattered community.

She once told me that the potters that she respected were Michael Cardew and Bernard Leach.

Mostly because of the way they had lived their lives and what they had contributed

to the their own communities, providing jobs for local people at locations which [then]

had little to offer in terms of employment.

On my last visit Maureen had some local people "helping".

Not that I think she needs any ones help, she is a miniature dynamo, working constantly.

I think she had their help for other reasons, I felt that she was helping.

Nature, is her inspiration and I think that needs no explanation

But it is the labour intensive detail of her work that I have trouble coming to terms with.

Each terracotta pot she creates is dipped into "slip" [thin white clay]

then decorated with a needle,

or as some potters describe it "scratched" so that the red clay is revealed to form the image.

Most potters working in this fashion will tell you

"it takes a lot of time".

I have never heard Maureen make such a comment, it is just what she does.

Her pots are not priced upon the hours of labour, they are priced as vessels for use,

just made in her way and her style.

I have questioned her on the wisdom of spending hours decorating a mug,

egg cup or a small cream jug.

"Surely you would be better spending that same time working on a large piece 

that will command a higher price"?

It made sense to me.

She explained something that I understand and can relate to very well.

" some people haven't a lot of money but they would still like to have one of my pots,

so they are made with them in mind".

How many artists would do such a thing?

I can assure you that a simple mug by Maureen is a thing of beauty and is the result of many hours

of labour.

These pieces are as important to her as the "statement" works that appear at auctions.

So, perhaps you understand why I am a fan myself.

Not only is the work different and outstanding,

but also the artist.

I know that she would be embarrassed to hear me say such a thing, she isn't striving for recognition

of any kind, she is just doing what she loves.

That love is evident in her work.

Her art is constantly evolving and improves in the most subtle of ways,

But really the only things that have changed over the years are the animals that she portrays.

I know that she will use the excuse of exhibiting with us to sneak some Hares back into her work.

"You must have some Suffolk Hares", she told me in the past.

She lives in an idyllic location but in a very humble way.

Whenever I speak with her I close my eyes and ask "how is the weather"?

[Trying to visualise her her location]

Sometimes [at odd times of the year] really hot

but on other occasions I will be told that the tiles are lifting off the roof and the wind is terrible.

That I can easily imagine.

Although she is situated just 100 metres from an idyllic beach with views out to the distant islands

there is nothing to stop the winds from the Atlantic

[well you could say that America blocks some of it but that is a "wee" way off].

The last time I visited it was after a long journey through snow covered mountains and it was a surprise

to arrive on a winter's day which seemed like summer on her small peninsula.

But still the sense of remoteness was very evident.

Of course she is never "cut off" from civilisation because just along the road

is the means to contact the world [if you have enough coins].

I can imagine conversations like

"Maureen your breaking up, is there a storm"?

"No, I just put in my last 10p and it's running out....beep....beeep".

"Hello, hello"

So just to confirm for those who keep asking.

Maureen and her ceramics will be here with us for the private view that opens on

Sunday August 23

Unless there is a storm from the Atlantic.

The longer you leave it the harder it gets.

I suppose it counts for everything in life, it certainly does for my 'blogs'.

Each and every day I think to myself "I must write about something", not for you but for myself.

I don't pretend that people are waiting on my every word so when I do write it is for "me.

Irene would tell me "that sounds about right".

My mind is like a "junk box" and every now and then it needs a good clear out.

Writing does that, then it enables me to move on a little bit.

At least I think it does.

People "blog" for different reasons and sometimes its hard to understand why.

My current favourite blogger "Tony Clenell" has started to write to his own ceramics,

as a result his posts have become much more personal and more enjoyable, of course he is mad

but in the very best way.

It is because of his daily "posts" that I decided I had better write a few words.

But what should I write about ?

So many events have occurred and so many different artworks have arrived at the gallery, I wasn't sure what to choose as a subject.

We certainly have a lot of events coming up in the near future, so what should I choose as a topic?

I am not sure so every day I have left it for tomorrow.

I do that with most problems but I have found that it catches up with you in time.

So while I have been pondering upon such important desicions

Other things, and other art and events have proceeded as normal.

Which has made me understand that these are the important things and that I should make mention of them because they are the foundations of the gallery.

Nothing to do with exhibitions. just nice artists who we deal with every day.

I don't remember exactly when, but a few months back I had an email from an artist.

What made this letter different was I couldn't understand a word, it was in 'Italian'.

I appreciate that this will confound a few of you, those who are aware of my vast linguistic skills.

After all last week I was speaking with a customer in "Geordie",

that just shows how good I am with a foreign language.

So receiving the letter in Italian I called upon my good friend "google"

and discovered that this was a famous Sicilian artist.

Famous yet so very modest.

I am so pleased that 'Google' were able to translate for me as I had received such a lovely letter from a really nice and incredibly talented artist.

Tino Luciano

I have no idea how he found us but I am so happy that he had.

As a result [I did reply in Italian] of our correspondence he sent me two of his beautiful paintings

Both placed in antique frames.

I couldn't help but wonder what I had ever done to be so very fortunate.

Then just a few days ago he wrote again.

Of course I couldn't understand a word, but with a little help again from my friends at google

[but they don't know Geordie]

I understood that he was preparing to send me some new paintings.

I felt very humble and just don't know how I have become so lucky, I don't want to question why

I am just so proud that he would decide upon us to be his gallery in England.

What was even nicer isthe way he signed off his letter

Saluti affettuosi, a presto

"much love, see you soon"

What English person would be so honest plain and simple?

I can't wait to greet him with a kiss.

So, if you want to see some stunning art from Sicily give me a call, you won't find it elsewhere,

not in my country.

Head in the Clouds

I confess that I am a dreamer.

Often my mind and thoughts are anywhere than where they should be

Which can be fun and often leads me down good roads but........

It doesn't get things done.

So while I have been scheming and planning and telling you of events that I might have one day in the future

Perhaps I have not talked about or made mention of

Events that really will be happening very soon in the not so distant future.

So to start with.

It is often the case that artists who we are going to exhibit are so concentrating on their art

They forget that we may have a deadline for promoting their event

I have long ceased to worry about that.

Perhaps that is why I talk of other things, because I am waiting and don't want to hinder them

It is the nature of artists to get lost and absorbed with their work, they don't need to be absorbed

With crap like advertising and promoting events.

Indeed why should they?

But it is a two way street and as a gallery it is hard to promote, when there is nothing to show.

So, to have an individual artist understand that we need their assistance well in advance of an event

Is a very rare thing and greatly appreciated.

Which is why I talking about the ceramic sculptor

Blandine Anderson

I have been aware of Blandine's sculptures for many many years

They are beautiful, thought provoking and so very well crafted.

Unfortunately, because she is a "home grown" sculptor many other galleries are aware of her

To say that she is in great demand would be an understatement.

I had all but given up the hope of ever exhibiting her work.

But, never say never [well James Bond did]

At last

Later this year we will be holding a full solo exhibition of her ceramics.

When she agreed I was thrilled but totally unprepared with how professional she is.

Here was an artist who truly understood that it only worked if you work together

Sooner rather than later.

Once the date had been decided upon, she immediately sent me images to be used for

'in house' promotion.

Since then we have talked about a theme and a title for the exhibition.

Both being things that are of great importance to me

How an exhibition is perceived beforehand in the public mind makes so much difference.

I might know what to expect but how do our clients?

A title makes a great difference, together with images it paints a picture of what to anticipate.

I am a bully and most times try to bend artists thoughts towards my own ideas and imagination

Many times this helps

Simply because I am aware of what "our audience" will respond to.

This time there was no need to even think about such a thing

From a few emails Blandine's mind had locked into where we are situated

What I like, what she likes

And what we both think others will like.

I am really looking forward to this exhibition.

Meanwhile here a few pictures that she has sent of her recent work.

Of course

Her exhibition here will be totally different  again, an exhibition tailored to our corner of England.

I will tell and show more as it progresses

Meanwhile, it is a lovely to feel that I am working with the artist on a joint project

Hey!

Perhaps she would like my help to create them, I have lots of idea's and......................

Perhaps not.

Night on the Town!

Yesterday, was a strange day for me and has left me with many mixed emotions

 I had to visit London

Yes!

It was that bad.

Let me explain in a a little more detail.

After spend so many years of my life [since the age of sixteen] working in London

It has become a place I would be happy never to see again, for me it holds none of

the magic and charm that it does for visitors

It is a place where I grew from being an innocent boy to a cynical man.

However it is also the town where I was first introduced to and then taught to appreciate art

Thanks to guidence of one man [who I have mentioned before].

I admit that the places, galleries / museums and shops he intoduced me to still seem magical.

Even last night, walking past the old building where we first worked together had my heart beating faster.

London, I love it hate it.

The reason I had to make a very unexpected trip there yesterday is this.

I have been writing to the incredible American artist

Daniel Merriam.

That is nothing special as I often write and correspond with artists that I admire.

Of course, always in the hope that we might agree upon a partnership of some kind, simply because I would love to one day exhibit their work.

It is like sifting for gold, sometimes you strike it rich.

So it was that Daniel replied to me and we had the early start of a relationship.

Then!

A few days ago he asked "do you want to meet up in person"?

He was stopping at London for the weekend before tavelling with his wife to Venice

"for a proper [belated] honeymoon".

Of course I had to give this a great deal of consideration.

"Tell me where and when and I will meet you there"

A few more mails passed between us until I realised that his travel [from San Fransico] was immenent

and I still had no idea where he was staying.

He and his wife were in the depature lounge at the airport when they recieved my "where" question.

"The Ritz".

If I wasn't already nervous enough this information pushed me over the edge.

I wasn't sure what frightened me more

Meeting this world renowned artist or visiting this iconic hotel.

On reflection I think I was more in awe of the hotel.

I was right to be in awe of the hotel.

Daniel could not have been more normal, unassuming and unretensious than I could have hoped for.

He is an artist that only takes his craft seriously, not himself.

I walked into the Ritz and recognised him instantly

Let's just say if his art ever lets him down he could always turn to acting,

Would you believe he makes Bradd Pitt look ugly? 

Both he and his equally beautiful wife instantly took me "under their wing".

[weren't they meant to be the tourists]!

They lead me off to a night club 

It was themed on "Around the World in 80 Days'.

For me the non tourist it spelt "rip you off in 80 seconds", plus it was far to loud

Which is saying something for a partially deaf person.

We decided to move on and find somewhere with less noise so that we could talk.

We did talk, in fact we talked a lot.

We talked of different artists, our gallery, Daniels Gallery, Daniels art.....

in fact we talked of many many things

But none in a private place

We talked as I lead them around the area's of central London and Soho that I could remember,

In fact for me their was a lot of nostalgia involved,

Although enjoying myself I was astounded at how London had changed in ten years

Every "genuine" old pub and restaurant I lead them towards had closed or drastically changed.

What did I expect, this is London.

So, eventually we settled on a pizza.

When you are hungry at least you know your are safe with what you are eating.

A far cry from the 'RITZ'

But I don't think I was being judged, we just enjoyed ourselves.

For me I can't remember such an enjoyable evening/night for a long time

Every now and again I had to remind myself that this was a famous artist who kept asking me

"do you want a slice of my pepporoni"?

The evening was as unusual as Daniels paintings, but with "added toppings".

I hope you both enjoy Venice.

The Next Day

There was one place that I wanted to visit before my day was over, that was ODETTE.

Basically it is a touristy cake shop, and although I am not that bothered about cakes I was inspired to visit by a photograph I had seen on another blog.

The photograph said "Paris in a Nutshell", so I had to see it for myself.

So daybreak found me sitting in a map strewn bed trying to navigate the best route there.

I was pleased to find that it was not too far from the gallery that I intended to visit

Where the sculptures by Elisabeth were on display.

After my new found confidence of walking the streets of Paris the day before I decided to do the same

again, after all it only looked like a 40 minute stroll.

So it was settled, no Metro just walk and absorb the city for an hour.

Time keeping and navigation have never been my Strong points, I hasten to add.

Anyone could have told me that it was better to go by underground, but unfortunately I had nobody

around who would tell me what to do.

Even if I had I wouldn't have listened to them, because I know best.

Honest.

So with bag, camera and umbrella I set of on my grand tour of Paris.

I say grand tour because that is what it became.

"Remember"

I kept telling myself

"Keep the Eiffel Tower to my left then walk straight on and take every right hand turning towards the river".

How hard was that a child could do it.

It was easy, easy and fun although I did have to keep stopping to take snaps of the most uninteresting things, but I just wanted to capture a little of the ordinary side of the city, the places that were simple

yet reminded me that I was in France.

I ignored every Metro station that I came to.

The metro might be easy but this was more fun, plus it wasn't going to take me very much longer.

In fact I worked it out that by the time I had changed trains walking would be quicker.

Although I was getting a bit wet and my bag was getting heavier.

Ok, I admit it.

After two hours I was lost, my sheet of paper containing all of the street names that I should have

passed along the route

might as well have been written in French, I didn't know where I was, but it was still fun

and I did have a whole day.

Let's face it how long can you be lost for?

I would soon find the river.

One hour later.

"Excusez-moi, parlez-vous anglais", I asked a passer by.

"Oui, un peu.

[always the same answer, even if they are fluent, which they all are]

"Ou est ici, je suis perdu", I would say pointing at my map.

[of course you are you silly bugger, your from England. I could see them thinking].

But every time they always helped.

But I only went on to get lost again.

But it was a "good lost" and was the reason why I found many galleries and unusual art that otherwise I may have never seen.

The two sculptures above are a fantastic example.

[of course since returning home I have been speaking with the artist].

So really I was lost with a good cause, perhaps it was meant to be.

But bloody hell, that bag was getting heavy, so I discarded the brolly and ventured onwards.

After four hours I did eventually find the gallery I was searching for.

The sculptures were even better than I had anticipated and the owner was really nice,

She was very open and recommended different sculptors to me and let me browse her vast collection of limited edition prints.

She asked how trade was in England? She explained that it was a little slow in Paris at the moment, it was easy to understand as the gallery was situated in a very affluent area, an area which seemed to be the hub for art galleries, and of course being in such a location would come at a high price and would demand a high volume of sales.

I knew where she was coming from.

Before I left she directed me towards the river.

"From there if you turn left you will eventually come to Notre-Dame and opposite you will find ODETTE".

At last I wasn't lost, so instead of continuing I decided to "backtrack" a little bit and look at some galleries and unusual shops that I had passed along the way.

It goes without saying that within 30 minutes I was lost again but not before seeing some beautiful art.

The most memorable was at the gallery of the famous photographer

Yann Arthus-Bertrand

Many of his photographs were stunning but for me the very best were his 'Horses'

They really have to be seen to be believed, and the prices were affordable.

I came away with a signed book which has given me hours of pleasure ever since.

I was pleased to find that most of the galleries that I visited were not as good as my own

[in my own humble opinion of course]

But I did find one which although it was a "grotty" building it did exhibit some incredible  work.

I left very envious.

Somehow my day was nearly over, I had achieved nothing but had seen a lot that I enjoyed.

But I was still determined to find that elusive cake shop.

So with many more "Ou est ici" I found the Seine and turned left.

Walking as fast as I could.

The light was fading, plus I was aware that there was a train home to catch.

Then I came to 'Shakespeare And Company' the famous bookshop, beside it was a small lane.

Squashed in between other buildings was ODETTE.

It looked nothing, yet everything. I took one quick snap then turned around to go.

Wow!

I hadn't noticed that. It was Notre-Damn.

I stood for a few minutes in amazement then decided I had better find a Metro station fast.

This time I would use it.

Typical, you can never find a station when you need one.

But I did eventually and it was one of the old beautiful Art-Nouveau stations, unfortunately it was 

pouring with rain and now dark so I couldn't even take a snap, but next time.

Three hours later I awoke on the Eurostar just in time to catch the end of 'GoldenEye'

The man I was sitting squashed against was a James Bond fan and it seems that he was determined

to share the film with me on his laptop.

So rather than sit and replay the days events in my mind I closed my eyes.

Good thing he had headphones on because rumour has it that I snore, even when sitting asleep.

It seemed strange to climb of the train in Kent, but I was back home.

It was snowing again and my bag was definitely heavier but my head was full of images and idea's.

It wasn't meant to be a holiday break but it had felt like it.

As Irene told me

"You need to get out more".

Postcards from Paris

"Bonjour mes amis".

Sorry about that, it seems that I just can't stop slipping into different languages nowadays.

Yes it's me!

The multi lingual world travelling gallery owner back from a day trip to Paris.

Actually, it was two days so I think that means I may now be classed as a resident.

I wish I was.

As Irene told me on my return "you need to get out more".

Anyway

Here is a little about my adventures in France.

Leaving home at 3.00am in the morning did make me wonder if this was a good idea

 I started to question "do I need to be doing this"?

Since I stopped working in London my time of rising has got later and later, and why not?

This is my life, I am no longer owned by someone else and I will confess

I have taken advantage of getting up a little later in the morning.

So

As I climbed out of the car in the dark and with light snow falling at the Eurostar terminal

I did wonder if maybe I should have stayed in bed.

Mais Non!

My little Paris trip has been one of the most enjoyable things that I have done for a long time.

I had planned to meet a couple of artists and maybe take a few photographs.

I did both and a lot more.

Meeting me on my arrival at the 'Gare du Nord' station was the sculptor

Elisabeth Dupin-Sjostedt.

To my surprise we both recognised each other

[However I had warned her to look for an old man who looked lost]

maybe that helped a little.

Anyway, after lots of cheek kissing [she stopped me after 14] we left the station to have a coffee.

I'm pleased to say it wasn't at Starbucks, etc, etc, etc.

No, instead it was a little restaurant where believe it or not they only spoke French.

As luck would have it Elisabeth was able to order without my help.

I must confess that it seems really strange meeting someone for the first time but feeling that you

are already old friends, it is something that I now accept as normal and it is an experience

that I really recommend.

It is strange but good, especially when the artist is a nice as you had anticipated.

Over two very protracted espresso's [we had to order another or we would have been evicted]

I was able to see much of Elisabeth's new work as she had the foresight to

load images of her sculptures onto her 'ipad'.

We discussed her exhibition planned for later this year, then she asked an awful question

"which pieces would you like to exhibit"?

My answer was "everything".

It really was impossible to make a choice as it was like viewing the art of several sculptors

as she chooses to work in many different styles

Some sculptures wall mounted some free standing, and all so very different and beautiful.

Unfortunately, I did not have the time to visit her studio but she told me of a gallery in Paris

that was showing some of her art, I promised that I would find time to go there.

Together we left the cafe for the Metro

[that's the underground for those of you who aren't world travellers like me].

Blimey!

I was stumped I didn't now how to purchase a ticket.

Luckily my new best friend was here to hold my hand and show me what to do.

[I swear I heard her mutter "what an English idiot"].

So after another "snogging session" [I like those French 'Hello's and Goodbye's]

I set off alone across Paris.

Wow!

Somehow I made it across Paris to the Eiffel Tower where my hotel was situated.

Of course before 'checking in' I had to have a wander to see this World famous Landmark.

It was pouring with rain and my first sight was of a tower in the mist.

The good thing was that I seemed to be the only visitor who had ventured out to sight see.

Even in the cold rain it was an imposing sight and one I won't forget.

So, off to the hotel, freshen up, then on with my visits.

Leaving the hotel just one hour later I was amazed to find that the weather had completely changed.

Walking 200 hundred metres and turning a corner I then had my second sighting

of the tower.

What a difference and what a contrast.

I admit I like it in the rain and in the sun, but at least the sun enabled me to do the tourist bit

and take lots of snaps.

To be honest what photograph can you take of the Eiffel Tower that you have not seen before?

For me the difference was "these are my snapshots"

So here are a few.

Walking under the Tower I then walked over the bridge crossing the Seine.

I confess, most of the time I was looking back at the Tower.

Until I spotted this beautiful crow,

I don't think that the monument would have looked as good without it, and it certainly beats pigeons.

So.

Across the River and then a walk along the embankment before heading further into the city to meet

with another new [only because we had not met before] friend.

Agnes Boulloche.

Arriving at the gates to a private road I tapped in the pass code and entered a very old street

with beautiful buildings on each side.

I proceeded until I arrived at the oldest house.

It sounds a stupid thing to say but it was typically French, and steeped in history as I was to learn.

Agnes is everything I expected and so much more.

When she greeted me I really did feel that I was meeting a very dear friend.

"get that coat off, sit down, here's a bottle of wine, would you like sausage"?

Within minutes we were talking [in English but it felt like French to me]

laughing and drinking together.

I was made to feel very welcome, and this was not something she tried to do, it is her.

Of course we had a conversation about her intriguing art and how and where she works.

"I can't live without it, I must paint every single day, wherever I am".

"Wherever"

Could mean Paris, La Rochelle or Africa.

Hey, this woman travels even more than me

[but I bet she's not been to The Green Dragon in Yorkshire].

Talking of her art occupied only a little of our time

I think that we must have talked of every topic there is, and I am sure that I must have told her my life story at least twice

[I had to do that to make it more interesting].

It was a very fun visit with lots of laughter and absolutely no pressure.

We were friends from the first greeting [kisses again, I do hope this catches on elsewhere].

We arranged a date and details for her exhibition at our gallery.

"I am very organised" she told me as she marked dates in her book

[I hope this catches on elsewhere]

Even numbers of paintings, finishing dates, sending dates and her arrival date, all sorted.

To my delight, before I left she packed two paintings for me to return home with.

They had to be smaller pieces as I had to walk around Paris

Then travel by train home with them

[they are still intact and are now here in the gallery].

After much laughter I eventually left before it was totally dark.

My last vision of Agnes is of her standing in the doorway waving frantically to her new friend.

In the fast growing darkness I walked as quickly as I could for fear of getting lost.

Trying to retrace my path, left, second right........

Then I found the river.

Someone had switched the lights on the Tower to guide me back to the Hotel.

What a kind thought.

To be continued...............