Yesterday we watched on TV a part of the official parade in London to celebrate the Jubilee of the Queen. My wife can’t bear to miss anything. I tagged along and found myself watching in fascinated horror. “Horror” is not hyperbolic language. Earlier in the week we have had several stories in the media detailing the extremes of poverty and hardship to which some people in Britain are reduced these days. My mind boggles at the attempt to calculate what this absurd party must have cost, and the purposes to which this money might have been better directed. I cannot imagine that it was the Queen’s idea, as it had about it more than a whiff of the “bread and circuses” mentality I find to be typical of our Conservative government.
The experience was not wasted, as it has kindled an idea for a new painting. I feel that something along the lines of the mediaeval “dance of death” is called for, and my imagination has already begun to work on that.
Several years ago I did a picture in which I held up to critical gaze our cultural and political establishment, based upon the end of the community on the Scottish island of St. Kilda. I can feel myself settling into that same mental framework. I have to admit that it is rare for me to address directly political topics in my art, but there have been exceptions, and perhaps that is the direction in which I’m moving now.
A good part of this reflection took place today while doing something completely different. We drove down to Buxton in order to enter two of my paintings for the Derbyshire Open exhibition. I would like very much to hear that they are accepted, and I have confidence in their quality. We shall see.
Although my wife found the drive through the Derbyshire Dales to be terrifying, I must say that the scenery of the Peak District National Park is wonderful. She remarked afterwards that it would be nice to have a holiday in the area …. but I think that she must imagine that we will get to our accommodation by helicopter.