Deep in the recesses of my memories of undergraduate psychology classes is the idea that the sense that is the most evocative of memory is that of smell. This could well be true, but today I’ve encountered the power of sound as a trigger to recollections of the past.
I might have mentioned in a previous post that we drove over recently to the Lancashire village of Blacko to take a clock to be repaired by a specialist craftsman. Today we made the same trip in order to collect the restored item. It was an interesting visit. Mr. Clayton is now (as he put it) “semi-retired”, but from the number of time-pieces in his little workshop, in the process of restoration, I can’t imagine what the place must have been like before he started on the process of retirement. He is evidently a craftsman in great demand, and this is not surprising when you consider the dramatic improvement in the condition of my clock in his hands.
It is not a piece that has great cash value, but it is of personal importance. The clock was presented to my father when he left Nelson in 1953, and came into my possession when he died. It wasn’t working very well at that time, and I think that it had probably been knocked about a bit. My father never really took care of anything. Ever since I got it I determined to have it restored, but only got around to that recently. Now it sits contentedly ticking on the living room mantle-piece, and gives its beautifully melodious chime every half hour. The sound of it has a very calming effect, and I am delighted to have it back.
The thing that has surprised me the most, however, is the degree to which those sounds have an ability to evoke memories of my childhood. My wife noted just before dinner that my mood does seem to have been rather sombre since our return from Blacko, and she was right. I have indeed been in a strange state of mind, although it is only just beginning to emerge, on the fringes of my awareness, exactly why things have taken this turn. It isn’t sadness …. more a matter of melancholy, which is quite different. I do look forward to hearing many more of those lovely delicate chimes, and to that gentle “tick, tock” above the fire.
Strangely, it has been good to get away from art for most of the day. I invested a lot of emotional energy in the hanging of my exhibition in the Cathedral yesterday, and tomorrow I go through a similar process at the Bingley Arts Centre. That will almost certainly be a more strenuous process, because I doubt very much that I will have the expert help there I received in the Cathedral. Roll on Friday! when it will all be done and dusted.