Well this is clearly not a wood engraving, it is what I can see now out of my window in Paris. All those rooftops! I am so high up. I arrived today…June 11. In this weblog I am saying still of the Ashmolean visit. Always I have lots more to say, …I might catch up… Now to show some of the wood engravings, and cows. Just to keep a good balance. A photograph of the now silent Stradivarius violins, sitting glumly in the Print room of the Ashmolean . They were left to the collection with the proviso they were not to be played . We will just have to imagine the sweet sounds. My inner self , which is a bit interested in crime of the decent sort, wonders how they can be set free. At least we can look at the wood engravings of George Mackley. The tiniest of cuts he had made , with the engraving tools. Their wonderful names, scorper, spitsticker and the bull sticker. These little pictures are perfect to me.
I can almost hear the sounds of the river. I think of him sitting quietly there, drawing the light and the dark darks of the shadows .One more , the Downland church.
These wood engravings are here especially for my friend Christopher Wells . Now leaving this stillness and peace , over to The Clumps and a clumping cow or several.
Sarah and Michael graciously hullo the welcoming committee , I am not actually hiding , just standing a bit behind the wall. The best cow nose I would think. I can still smell its grassy breath. Sarah and Michael have brought me to Little Wittenham..to see the Clumps which Paul Nash drew. And here it is …
All those soaring birds, and the far away lands. So far from his war pictures of sadness and devastation, this drawing is of the heart. You could hum a Vaughan Williams’ hum for this one. Back now to Abingdon, a last walk down to the river, past the Twittys,