Wall work

Head of a woman
Tracy by Dreph (Neequaye Dreph Dsane) – putting unsung lives on view
Bad Hombre
Bad Hombre

Walls have had a bad press lately, but this post is about two more benign uses – street art and Alexander wall work.  The first has long been a personal interest – I enjoy its physicality, edge and humour in the midst of the capital.  I like it when dull walls acquire a personality overnight, inviting a chuckle or quick photo in the morning.

Lie Lie Land by Bambi
Lie Lie Land by Bambi
Dom Un-ation
Dom Un-ation by Pegasus
Harry's Girl
Harry’s Girl by Pegasus

Jimmy C (below)
James Cochran aka Jimmy C has a signature ‘aerosol pointillist’ style, skilfully mixing urban grit, art history and social comment, mostly using real people in his work.

Joe's Kid by Jimmy C
Joe’s Kid by Jimmy C

Street art by Jimmy CStreet art by Jimmy CLike other street artists, his walls are visible in many countries –  Australia, Brazil, France, Germany, Spain, Turkey and the UK. For many, Instagram acts as an internationally accessible gallery for displaying street pieces and earning money via print sales.

SHOK-1
SHOK-1 is a chemist by background, spray-painting X-ray art on walls worldwide. Technically difficult, these are done freehand and comment on popular culture, contemporary life and science.

SHOK-1 street art
MasterPeace by SHOK-1 – a white poppy on a barbed wire stem done for Remembrance Day 2017
SHOK-1
Detail from SHOK-1’s The Future is Rubbish (the other half is a discarded drinks can)
Elvis by SHOK-1
Elvis by SHOK-1

Artists are often commissioned by building owners or allowed  to paint on their property. An activity that was once underground, illegal and dangerous is now part of the street fabric and the London visitor experience. Using outside space in a city that’s receptive to street art provides newcomers with profile and recognition. With luck they pick up commissions or access to more formal galleries. The stories of their subjects, also often outsiders, can gain wider currency, as with Dreph (at the top of this post).

Zabou
Zabou is female and French, now living in London and active on its walls. She works with the spaces she paints, moulding subjects to surroundings.Wonderland by Zabou

Dali by ZabouZabouThere’s a contradiction at the heart of street art – the paintings are brash and direct, the artists often private and shy.  They’re rarely noticed, producing new pieces quickly or roaming the city to scout locations and observe reaction.  Their art can seem banal, but often has political edge and wit. It looks spontaneous but has been planned in detail. It’s also physical in the extreme – working speedily outdoors surrounded by spraypaint fumes, often at height, and at risk from falls, traffic and public or official reaction.

Alexander wall work
Wall work in an Alexander context is much smaller scale.  It’s a simpler and quieter way of observing and improving body use on your own or guided by a teacher.  You stand slightly away from the wall, just touching, gaining feedback as your body adjusts or making small movements with thought and direction.  Like street art it helps you become aware of what’s going on and what it is you’re really dealing with.

As for me, I’m somewhere in the space between the painted and the living. I’m no longer stuck and immobile unable to move far from the wall. But I’m not fully formed as a teacher either.  I’m slowly moving from two dimensions to three. It’ll happen, just not overnight. And no spray cans will be involved.

The Street Art Walk by London Walks runs weekly. The route changes regularly to include new pieces as they appear.

Street art woman's face

Street art

Muhammand Ali
Muhammad Ali
Bearskin capoeira by Martin Ron
Off-duty guardsman does capoeira, painted by Argentinian Martin Ron
Don't Shoot by Bambi
A response to the Ferguson shooting – Don’t Shoot by Bambi
Ben Eine
“Sell the house, the wife, the kids, it’s bonus time” by Ben Eine, close to the City of London

Non-doing

Fountain pensEnd of Term 5

One of the key Alexander Technique concepts is the idea of ‘non-doing’, the opposite of ‘doing’ or ‘trying’.  It’s not doing nothing, but a way of doing less, so we match the effort to the task.

To do less, we have to stop doing things in the normal way and allow ourselves to find a better one.  The stopping or ‘inhibition’ means we intercept ourselves just before we proceed with an action. In the pause we have time to choose whether and how to continue.  This allows us to think more about the ‘means whereby’ we do something, rather than ‘end-gaining’ to achieve a given result.  By pausing we also stop our usual ways of acting and start to ‘unlearn’ our habits.  This allows new patterns to develop over time, as old ways start to be replaced by easier and more conscious ways of being.

I’m about to apply the idea of non-doing to this blog. I want to continue writing, but with less effort.  Non-writing.  Or maybe writing in a more thoughtful, more sustainable way. Gradually I’m discovering that the activities I undertake have to be sustainable.  This means looking after myself – working for shorter periods, taking breaks, and noticing when I need to stop, rather than carrying on regardless.

This term I’ve gone through some large ‘undoings’ in my body, and the process continues.  In line with Alexander’s concept of psycho-physical unity (that the body and mind are not two entities, but one integrated self), it’s having an effect on my sense of myself and, in turn, on how and what I want to write. My response is to apply Alexander thinking not just to movement but also to how I approach other areas of my life, including this blog. I’m not sure what the outcome will be, but that is very much the point.

After nearly nine months of weekly posts, I’ve decided to take a break over the Christmas holidays, and after that I’ll be posting monthly rather than weekly (on the first weekend of the month, with an email going to subscribers on the Monday immediately following).

The next post will be on the website in early January 2018 -until then, best wishes for the holiday season and the New Year.

 

 

Birds and bodies

Replica eggs
Porcelain replicas of illegally collected birds’ eggs (made by artist Andy Holden)

Term 5

I’ve seen through the eyes of a bird, and been shaken to the core. I’ve just read The Peregrine by JA Baker, one of the great texts of modern nature writing.  There are many bodies in this book – countless peregrines and their violent kills, Baker himself, and the effect on my own body of reading it. Baker’s biographer Hetty Saunders says ‘he strove in his writing to inhabit the falcon’s body – to see through its own eyes, feel through its body’.  And his physical difficulties – the chronic inflammatory condition ankylosing spondylitis coupled with extreme short sight – had a bearing on what and how he wrote.

Hetty Saunders and Robert Macfarlane at a discussion on JA Baker's biography
Hetty Saunders and Robert Macfarlane at a discussion on JA Baker’s new biography at the London Review Bookshop

First, the background.  The slim volume was published in 1967, won a literary prize and went in and out of print. It has caught hold of writers, campaigners, birders and general readers, and in recent years has been championed by writer Robert Macfarlane  among others. He calls it ‘landscape on acid’. Film director Werner Herzog says it’s a must for aspiring film directors, yet regards it as unfilmable.  On paper it’s a meticulous diary of one winter’s observations of peregrines around the Blackwater Estuary in Essex.  In reality it’s a composite of ten years’ obsessive birdwatching from 1954 to 1964 compressed tightly into six months. It’s fact and poetry combined.

The bird he had in his sights –“that crossbow flinging through the air” – is a supreme hunter, ‘stooping’ from the sky to snatch its victims at well over a hundred miles an hour. Pesticide use (especially DDT) was rife when Baker was writing and peregrines at the top of the food chain absorbed more than most. Their eggshells weakened, breeding reduced and extinction was close. Baker documents his questing pursuit of the peregrine, using dense visceral prose to shake us awake to the vicious reality of nature and humankind.

Time after time he produces word pictures of flight and pursuit, with rapid and fatal movement in the sky. In his entry for 20 December a line of mallards comes into view:

“Looking up at them through binoculars, I see for the first time a falcon peregrine circling very high, beating and gliding in the fading light.  She stoops, dilates like a pupil of an eye as it passes from day’s brilliance into dusk.  She is the size of a lark, then of a jay, now of a crow, now of a mallard.  Mallard spray outwards and climb as she dives between them.  She bends up through the sky again, curves under and up with the momentum of her stoop, crashes into a mallard, bursts it into a drift of feathers.  Grappled together, they glide above the wood, then sweep down to the frosted ride.  Mallard fly along the line of the wood towards the lake.  Nothing has changed, though one is gone.”

He creates movement and dynamism through an intense stew of verbs and metaphors. It’s exhilarating and addictive, yet stark and indigestible.  I can only stomach it in short bursts. From my Alexander perspective he’s overly obsessive, too much of an ‘end-gainer’, concentrating exclusively on sighting the peregrine and pinning it down in prose.  But it’s his restricted and singular focus that gives the book its furious power.

In some ways Baker’s body is barely present in the book, and he remains mysterious as a narrator. Away from the page he was until recently an elusive figure. However the Baker archives are now more complete and his life is better understood after the biography My House of Sky  was published earlier this year. He effaces himself in his writing, yet his body caused him pain and difficulty. The fusing joints from his inflammatory condition meant he couldn’t use his fingers easily, nor could he range as freely outdoors as he wanted. His severe myopia affected what he saw, so binoculars were critical. Despite all this, he pursued and described his quarry. Shaman-like, he almost turned into one of the most visually acute, powerfully explosive and mobile birds of all.

“Hawk-hunting sharpens vision.  Pouring away behind the moving bird, the land flows out from the eye in deltas of piercing colour. The angled eye strikes through the surface dross as the oblique axe cuts to the heart of a tree.  A vivid sense of place grows like another limb.”

I’ve had my copy of The Peregrine for some years and it remained unread until last week.  I couldn’t get beyond the first few pages. Every time I picked it up, another bloody kill made me put it back down. But something has shifted in me.  I’m more stable now in my body, more comfortable in my skin. The Peregrine might ruffle my feathers, but it won’t knock me out of the sky.

I started by saying I’ve been shaken to the core by reading the book. Yes, it has changed my perception of the natural world and my place in it.  I am shaken – but still standing. In the past I was more easily pushed off balance and somehow I seemed to absorb it physically. Now after six years of Alexander lessons, and nearly two years of more intense training to be an Alexander teacher, I’ve found an inner stability and a deeper resilience in myself. I’m more able to deal with whatever comes along.  Read The Peregrine if you haven’t already. It’s a strong and heady brew, so be sure your body is up to it.

Photos from the exhibition ‘Natural Selection’ by Andy Holden & Peter Holden. The eggs are porcelain replicas, made by artist Andy Holden, of a hoard of 7130 illegally collected birds’ eggs, found by the police in a raid in 2006. 

Replica eggs by Andy Holden

Replica eggs

Replica eggs

Bird books and nest

You may also be interested in a previous post on The Hunting Season