Sven Berlin, his Dark Monarch, and the Tower

I have just finished reading the recently republished "Dark Monarch" by Sven Berlin, expecting to discover a behind the scenes look at the art colony of St Ives, filled with tidbits of gossip about their antics.

In point of fact the book really has very little about the activities of the group other than as a means to advance and string together the narrative, which is a loosely autobiographical account using alternate names for places and people. St Ives becomes "Cuckoo Town" presumably because of the number of infidelities described.

At the opening, Sven, only recently returned to the town, is coming to terms with the breakup of his marriage. It progresses through a poignant and ultimately tragic love affair to a final betrayal of Sven's personal sense of freedom and integrity. Told exclusively from Sven's viewpoint, some events are occaionally subsumed by his violent bouts of temper: in writing surfacing as occasionally libellous vitriol. It is difficult to decide how much these mood swings were caused by his self-confessed use of barbiturates, or whether an underlying psychological condition had been triggered during his breakdown following war service.

While his demons are personified in the folkloric Dark Monarch of the title, another recurrent theme in the book is that of his "Tower", a building he rented as a studio and workshop. I believe the symbolic relevance of the Tower, taken in context with other events in the book, gives an enhanced understanding of Sven's ambivalent attitudes to his life, friendships, and sense of both place and security.

Having first obtained the Tower in a shared arrangement with some acquaintances, he is then forced to fight over possession of the upper floor, which is to him the most important area of the building. Subsequently having obtained sole use of a space one could suppose he would settle into, instead he seems to have a constant stream of visitors, party-goers and lodgers - one having escaped from the mental hospital - and one is left with the impression that the Tower never truly became the hermitage and refuge that he looked for at the outset. He distances himself geographically from the town in the book by placing the tower on a (ficticious) tidal island.

Today the Tower still stands, by the slipway to Porthgwidden Beach adjacent to the public toilets which were built on the space Sven formerly used for working on his sculptures, and which represent one of the final great betrayals at the close of the book. It is a nondescript edifice, easily overlooked, barely seen from the road until one is level with the toilet block. The window facing the road is now blind; boarded over. The door is painted the ubiquitous blue of St Ives. Intriguingly the east window was ajar and a curtain of contemporary design was half-drawn, suggesting current occupation.

I had gone in search of it because the most recent photo found on the internet was taken in 2009. There has been some building development in the area, and I couldn't honestly remember seeing the building despite frequent walks in that area of town. It has a mystique by virtue of being overshadowed and camouflaged by the toilet block, and, in its uncompromising utilitarian location, has a certain pathos in the very fact of its continuing existence.

On leaving St Ives, Sven moved to Hampshire, where later he wrote the "Dark Monarch", and which was to bring all his demons crashing down on him. The resulting libel suits ruined him financially and the book was withdrawn only days after publication. Now, the manuscript has been republished, following permission from interested parties, and enable us to see a self-critique every bit as incisive as his comments on others.

For me, his prophetic vision of what St Ives would become at the hands of bureaucracy and commercialism (even then most of the town was owned by a handful of families) set the seal on Sven Berlin's ability to clearly see the truth beyond the petty manouverings of those around him, and sadly, all too many of his predictions have borne fruit.

Dark Monarch, Sven Berlin 1962 (2nd ed.,Published 2009 by Finishing Publications)
ISBN: 978-0-904477-320

A Welsh Sketchbook - Day Ten

Day Ten- Worms Head, Rossili and Oxwich

In the morning we decided to visit Worm's Head, and walked out to it experiencing the same hide and seek with fog which we'd had in Brecon. The tide was in so crossing was (fortunately) not an option, and it looked like a fair old scramble, so we retraced our steps (I found a flattened fledgling looking like a baby dragon on the road).

Here be Dragons...

Eventually we found a path down to Rhossili beach, a fascinating strand of surf layering up like lace,  windblown sand covering the most mundane flotsam and turning it into mysterious sculpture and loads of half buried razor clam shells- when a wave nearly caught us the number of rising bubbles betrayed the population below. The clouds ebbed and flowed over the hillside behind and I managed enough reference shots to be able to develop a painting later on (still on the to-do list as I write).

 We walked out to the remains of a buried wreck and filled our pockets with tellins and razor shells then climbed halfway back up to sit and have lunch on a convenient bench. Later we explored eastwards to Oxwich, discovering, on a rising tide, many shells, pebbles and fragile sea urchins which were dutifully collected for still life work later, and both getting wet feet as the waves rose.

 We moved inland and parked by an old estate mill, walking up a private drive to find the castle, opposite a beautiful Regency mansion now in need of repair. I had some wonderful photos of the trees along the avenue, and the lake in the valley, despite having to clear drizzle from the lens every few minutes. We halted our walk when we reached an old Victorian stable block with a 1920s garage addition, and returned to explore the mill and adjacent fishpond before returning to Port Eynon. As dusk fell I went out alone to collect smaller pieces of driftwood on the beach- I had it in mind to collect a 7 foot long piece I'd spotted earlier- but the failing light and the rain on slippery rocks made me review my decision. The driftwood proved useful in an exercise for still life in line- here is the result.

 I did however find yet another dead seabird among the rocks (and took a photo). We spent a relaxed night- after being greeted effusively as old friends by a German family who had followed us from St David's- chatting to guests and a visiting YHA warden who hails from Shropshire, full of tall tales about her walking, cycling and bog-snorkelling adventures.

Needless to say the sun finally came out properly as we prepared to leave, and there was only time for a couple of photos. We stopped at Caerleon for a conker hunt (supplies for our local conker tournament), only to find that the school had felled the tree we knew, eventually we found another near the Roman amphitheatre but had to scrump on private land for our harvest. Fortunately this year we found a route back to the motorway which did not take in the less scenic aspects of Newport (that spoof song- the banned one- is still going round in my head), so saved 40 minutes of arguing over map-reading skills!

We're already planning our next Welsh adventure in May next year, although it will be based probably more around Cwm Duad and St David's: the former being in easy striking distance of places we haven't been, the latter being my current muse...I may have to pack the paints and easel...

A Welsh Sketchbook - Day Nine

Day Nine- Weobley Castle and Port Eynon

Our last two days were to be spent on the Gower, an area we did not know, and I have to say we both struggled to see its attraction as the weather got worse and we took more than one wrong turning. Eventually we stumbled on Weobley Castle, a strange polyglot of a fortified house, and stopped to explore. It was interesting, and mostly out of the wind and rain which was a bonus, and in the room set up as an exhibition I found another dead bird on the windowsill (this was to become a theme in the closing days of our holiday). As I returned to the car two escaped sheep followed me, so I managed to draw them before they scuttled up the drive in search of freedom.

We were staying in Port Eynon (or Einon depending which map- Welsh or English- you have), and arrived to find it bleak, closed, and the only activity being a funeral attended by what appeared to be most of the farming community- judging by the number of four-wheel drives arriving. Even the pub was shut until some obscure mid-afternoon hour (which I'm guessing was the wake). Having two or three hours to kill we were relieved that the sun made an appearance long enough to picnic on the beach, which was mostly composed on the leeward side of shells, with some interesting pebbles which were holed with bubbles and seemed to be a form of pahoehoe (Lava with bubbles of gas- the word is Hawaiian). The fantastical geology proved to be the cinch for me however as the shapes and cracks in the rocks were heightened by some form of dark lichen or algae growing in the cracks.

And this is what it became later in the studio at home...

The beach was really rather nice, it was a shame about the town, in the words of Chris Rea it really was an "out-of-season holiday town in the rain". The nearest shop proved to be a garage some 4 miles and two villages away. Luckily the hostel here is a converted lifeboat house quite a way from the town (and the parking) so after lugging our baggage over the distance we were quite happy to relax and take stock. It also helped that the guests and resident warden were an interesting cross section who were all prepared to join in with conversation, so we tapped their local knowledge, planned the morrow, and listened to the rain beating on the windows....

A Welsh Sketchbook - Day Eight

Day

Eight- St

Davids, Oriel-y-Parc and Caerfai

Mike wanted to circumnavigate Carn Llywd which looms over the hostel, so in the morning we set off for the cliff path in search of what appeared to be a burial chamber on the cliff edge. It was a collapsed kist chamber, so I drew while Mike took photos.

 Having eventually found our path around the hill we had lunch before heading into St David's for much needed supplies, and to find the artist-in-residence at the Oriel-y-Parc visitor centre. I was distracted when looking into the gallery area to see a Ben Nicholson on the wall- further investigation yielded a slew of St Ives artists: Heron, Lanyon, Wells etc as the theme for the year was "The Sound of the Sea", and it was also a rather vicarious thrill to be able to get my nose VERY close up to a Turner seascape to study the brushwork. There were several Graham Sutherland pieces on display: Pembrokeshire having been his muse, and in the foyer the BBC programme where Rolf Harris paints a version of "Road to Porth Clais" was playing, so I settled down to watch it. Eventually I finally made it into the residency studio, where Rhian Davis was contemplating a generous blob of yellow on her brush and was immediately amused to see she has the same sort of paint colour reference charts that I make up, which got the conversation going quite nicely!
Rhian is a marine biologist, and started painting a year ago, using her late father's materials. Her work is colourful, semi-abstract and features marine environments, and I took to her bold use of colour straight off. She was welcoming and friendly, and our conversation led to discussing subject, motivation, self-discipline and experiment.
The combined experiences of Oriel-y-Parc resulted in my getting very fired up creatively. It is definitely the most informative visitor centre I have ever been in and I thoroughly recommend it if you are in St Davids. I dragged Mike off to nearby Caerfai beach, which has bands of green and Barbie-pink striped sandstone in the cliffs, and while he rockpooled I got busy drawing.

 After some time working on different areas of rocks and cliffs, I got up to join him, only to find the remains of a dead magpie tangled in weed, which I really had to draw for posterity- I have a special affinity with magpies.

As dinner cooked, I sat outside the kitchen door and drew the mass of Carn Llidi rising behind us.

 Lastly, that night I drew the shapes of the fields below the hostel, very simply, using the side of a brush pen. Possibly it was the only time I really used my chosen medium to its full considered extent, rather than just grabbing a particular pen to make marks with.

A Welsh Sketchbook - Day Seven

Day Seven- Aberieddy, Porthgain and Trefin

The sun had deserted us now and although I had hoped to do some colour work at Abereiddy's Blue Lagoon in the morning the colours proved to be elusive, thankfully I have photos from last year. I sketched the ruins above the quarry lagoon and did a colour pencil study of the rocks at the mouth, and attempted to capture the shapes and colours of the rear rock face in oil pastel.

Returning to the car for elevenses (which should have been lunch) I did two quite different styled line drawings of the different cottages around the cove. I remembered taking a photo of the fields above the second study last year, showing the colour and contours in the lines of hay.

 We moved on to Porthgain, a gem of a place crammed with history, geology, a really good art gallery and the most iconic harbour, all of which inspired the most work out of me last year, but having got stuck on a painting I needed to do some further drawings to work out how to progress. I made several studies from different viewpoints before we decided to lunch at the pub, a Tardis filled with historic photographs.

Two views of the harbour from the top of the cliff, and the basis of my "stuck" painting

My "stuck" painting- it will have a boat in the large empty expanse of harbour but I can't decide whether it should be more realistic or abstract in form...

Finally a lower viewpoint from halfway down the steps, I liked the contra forms of the two piers from this angle, with the slipway just visible in the background, and jammed up the narrow footpath while I drew.

After lunch we walked out to the day marker and my eye was caught by the tumbling adjacent cliffs with their angular slate shapes.

 On the way back I looked over to the ruins of the stone works on the harbour, so I drew them as the definition was lost in previous photos due to the angle of the sun- a happy event which led me to develop an idea in oil pastels which may eventually surface in oils. The shapes of the buildings remind me of the ruined masadas I have seen on the fringes of the Sahara and Arabia.

and the studio version...

Our third destination was Trefin, another surprise discovery last year, with rippled rock formations and a seal and cormorant having a full-on barney in the bay, and we had timed this visit for low tide to explore the beach further.

 I made a study of the rocks before going off to potter over the exposed rock platform, at which point the camera took over as I discovered lots of abstract ideas on the shoreline. In the evening I drew the hostel from a different angle, using a letterbox format across two pages, and later discovered two artists among the guests, the mother (Sheila Bradburn)  having been both a book illustrator and fashion illustrator, and her daughter an established artist now studying for her degree part-time. We compared sketchbooks and styles and the conversation went on late into the night.

A Welsh Sketchbook - Day Six

Day Six- St Davids and Porth Clais

While it had been lovely to catch up with friends, we were now headed for Pembrokeshire, and decided to visit the cathedral as a funeral had prevented us from doing so last visit. I sat at the top of the grounds to try to draw the building, proving in the process that I really need to get to grips with perspective again.

 Thankfully my husband was kept busy by a gentleman doing a tourist survey while I struggled.

The later part of the day we spent at Porth Clais- immortalised in Graham Sutherland's "Road to Porth Clais", which we had stumbled on by chance last year while walking the coast path, memorable for a sighting of a pair of red kites.

After some gentle walking and home-made cake at the tea-hut, I spent some time drawing boats until the sun had gone over the hill.

Having unpacked at YHA St Davids I went outside to draw the old granary outbuilding which serves as an extra kitchen in peak season.

A Welsh Sketchbook - Day Five

Day Five- Carmarthen and Cwm Duad

After a very hot day exploring Carmarthen, finding an interesting design exhibition, a Roman amphitheatre now adjoining a council estate, and a good art shop, we returned to Forest Edge to chill out. I went to chase the horses again and found them either sulking in their boxes or sleeping in the heat.

The chickens came to peck around the grass as the heat lessened, soon followed by the dogs, both very restless at the anticipation of dinner.

 I drew the valley view while waiting for the BBQ which our hosts were providing- it was a good opportunity to deal with trees- my personal landscape bete-noire. As the opposite hill has been recently logged it opened up a range of different shapes and textures to record.

Lastly I tried to catch Jack, the other boxer, who stayed still for ages until I put pen to paper...

...so I gave up and made notes on the design exhibition we'd found that afternoon in Carmarthen.

A Welsh Sketchbook - Day Four

Day Four- Aberglasney and Cwm Duad

It was time to leave the Brecons and travel to our friends near Carmarthen, which we did by way of Aberglasney, a delightfully restored cloister garden. After a rapid tour with camera before lunch, I drew the house before settling to capture one of the orange trees in the cloister, and later dug out colours to capture the reflections in the pond.

On the main path from the entrance, several people stopped to see and comment on what I was doing. I used to be rather self-conscious, but found that spending time at Geevor Mine had got me over that, and had some good chats while I worked.

While I worked on the orange tree a lady from a coach party settled beside me, and we had a long and pleasant conversation about her adventures at art class, while behind me my husband was being flirted with by her elderly companion.

 Once we reached Cwm Duad Accomodation here- hostel rates and boutique rooms, I rushed off to catch impressions of chickens, cat, horses and stableyard.

The chickens were a good starting point as I've both kept and worked with them in the past and had a certain pre-knowledge of their shapes. I've had many cats too, but Tippy was meeting me for the first time and was not particularly anxious to pose close by.

The most difficult feature to catch on the horses was the shape of their chin line, as they were grazing up and down the meadow below me, moving constantly. Buttons is a miniature Shetland so has far different proportions, a barrel tummy and very stubby legs!

These two sketches of Dizzy, a boxer, while although only partial, I think are the most successful of all the animals. I found trying to draw them to be a bit of a ritual, starting with a quiet moment of reflection to decide the line and then making rapid, confident (or at least fearless) and long marks to catch the essence before they moved again.

I knew I had to make the most of being close up to the animals, particularly the horses, as I don't now have many friends at home who keep them. Luckily we had another day at Forest Edge for me to sketch them.

A Welsh Sketchbook - Day Three

Day Three- Pont-melyn-Fach, Fforest Fawr and the hostel

Next day we pursued more waterfalls down the Pont-Melyn-Fach valley, and on returning to the car I sat to draw a fallen tree in the river.

Once again in the evening I explored the grounds, this time focusing on the knarly trees and the sheep in the field below.

Returning to the house I met a fellow guest and archaeologist, and drew a monolith we had found in our travels to show her, then as we chatted made a line drawing of a branch of shrub growing next to our seat.

 Finally, later that evening, I took advantage of another guest engrossed in a book to try some figure drawing, and made a quick study of our wine and glasses.