In the space set aside for the Mari Lwyd work, the drawing shown here has been loaned by the National Museum of Wales. Peter’s idea that the end walls be painted black didn’t appeal to me when first suggested, but the result is striking and marvellously dramatic.
‘Red Flow’, one of the later works in the series. The smaller one to the left is titled ‘Stumbles and Falls’ and is a drawing I haven’t seen in a decade. The owner recently e-mailed us a beautiful description of what the drawing means to her, and had the text for the monograph not already been signed off and sent to the printers I think that Peter would have tried to include it in the chapter notes.
The glory that is the Gregynog Gallery stretches out magnificently, all gleaming waxed floor and glittering lights.
Some of objects I’ve most used in still-life paintings have been arranged under glass in the gallery. From left to right: a Delft plate from my friend Catriona Urquhart: a small porcelain figurine by ceramic artist Meri Wells: my late father’s coffee mug: a child’s wooden pecking-hens toy: a milk jug with a design by the ‘outsider’ artist Scottie Wilson: one of a pair of Staffordshire Scottish huntsmen.
In the space hung with ‘The Temptations of Solitude’, seven of the eight works from the series have been gathered together from private and public collections. Above, ‘The Penitent Roasted by the Sun’.
‘The Comfort of Angels Attending the Dying’.
In the space showing works on the theme of ‘the miraculous’ hangs ‘Kevin and the Sunflowers’, on loan from a collection in Scotland.
Hervé’s wolf prowls the garden at Ty Isaf in a toy theatre. You can get a closer look at this HERE and HERE.
Maquettes pinioned in Perspex boxes…
… in free-fall through glass display cases…
… and even animated. Pete Telfer’s film on maquettes is being screened in the gallery, but it can also be watched
Clive Hicks-Jenkins' Artlog: 
Clive, I thing it’s safe to say that you can show us all the images you like without the slightest fear of boring anyone! Btw, I love the display case with the maquettes. They feel so alive!
You would have laughed to see me arranging them in the case, getting more and more entangled in the spider’s-web of my own making. I much prefer this as a way of showing them, always having been rather saddened in the past by the process of sealing maquettes into frames for display. In this beautiful display case they can be viewed from all sides and I like that their backs with the brass pins and joints are on view. The figures are suspended on fine cotton thread and it’s surprising how hard it is to see what’s holding them unless standing very close to the glass.
pure magic! and what a gift to your readers–thank you so much!!!
Well. Thank you for putting together these two posts which give such a wonderful sense of the way in which the exhibit is laid out. Everything looks so beautiful – perfect, really. It must be quite something for you – to wander about inside of this space, seeing so much of your life’s work assembled in one space. I wish I could see the exhibit “in person” but at least these posts give me some feel for what I am missing.
Hello Bev. Well, I’ve done my best to convey the feel of the exhibition in these two posts, though I fear the scale of it has defeated me as I don’t want to bore Artlog readers with endless images of paintings on walls.
I’ve had a couple of chances to walk the exhibition, though I fear not as anonymously as I would like due to the two documentaries constantly broadcasting my likeness to visitors to the gallery. And yes, it is the strangest experience to see so much of my life laid out in pictures and objects. I’m just glad that it’s for a limited period.
Bore!! Pshaw! You can’t bore fans with pictures of your work. Tisn’t possible.
You’re a sweetie Rebecca and I thank you for your vote of confidence. Nevertheless, I think that this must be it as far as Artlog posts on the appearance of the exhibition are concerned. Enough is enough and we must leave some surprises for those who visit.