Through the post this morning a catalogue arrived for an exhibition in London. Maxwell Doig is an artist whose name I have heard, but whose wrork I have never seen. It seems that he is based in the neighbouring West Yorkshire town of Huddersfield, but since Bradford and Huddersfield are in a permanent state of deliberate mutual ignorance my ignorance is not surprising.
Is was struck immediately by his work, which appeals in several ways. It is evidently deeply rooted in the environment of the area. What is more, he often takes that close look at isolated, relatively humble objects that appeals to me. He paints studies of the gable end of a house, the clock above a nineteenth century mill, or a stranded boat. I find these things profoundly congenial. I am not sure that I like his almost photographic rendering of these objects to be equally appealing. The reliance upon tone rather than colour adds to that impression. Nevertheless, I am very much in sympathy with what he is doing, and will try to see his work.
At Christmas my wife gave me Leonard Cohen’s album Dear Heather. I have listened to it a couple of times before, but took it with me in the car on the way to my language class in Leeds, where I was able to give it rather closer attention than previously. It isn’t his very best work, but it is thoroughly interesting. It has a definitely valedictory quality about it. It was recorded as long ago as 2004, and of course Cohen only died last year. This is, even so, the work of an old man bidding goodbye to his work and to the world.
His rendering of Byron’s Go no more a roving I find deeply moving, as is Villanelle for our time. The title track is wryly funny, as the voice of an old man finding pleasure in a young woman’s passing by, but without any hope of anything more. Often Cohen’s contribution has diminished almost to the level of being a backing to his own backing group …. before, presumably, leaving us for ever. I’m glad to have it, even so.