Fife, Scotland

Home is where the heart is...

Exploring Fife, Scotland

It is all too easy to take for granted a childhood in the East Coast of Scotland’s Kingdom of Fife, with its endless miles of windswept beaches and somewhat bohemian approach to life by the sea. But, I know I am so blessed to call our secluded spot above the East Neuk’s romantic little fishing villages my childhood home. This is a place, where the simple life prevails and as I will illustrate, it’s not hard to fall in love with it all. In the last few years I have been feeling increasingly remorseful about invariably seeking adventure overseas in favour of the humble wonders on my doorstep. 

So, I’ve begun the lengthy four months of summer by returning to my roots and taking a few days to really explore the hidden magic of Fife. Although I must admit that this newfound nostalgia for my Scottish upbringing, has also been triggered by the betrayal of stumbling upon a deeply uninspiring article on the ‘cultural delights’ of Fife in a renowned glossy travel magazine. 

Horrified by this monotonous sweep through its most mundane activities, I thought I ought to present my side of the story from a local’s perspective. If you only have a few days to spare, then perhaps my last few days of reflection and exploration of Fife’s loveliest spots will give you a few ideas (these are all my own photographs from Fife)

My brother and I began the week by venturing to Tentsmuir beach for a quaint little afternoon picnic. The beach is a short, but beautiful drive from St Andrews and stretches for more than five miles from the mouth of the River Tay to the Eden Estuary. Don’t be deterred from visiting if you open your curtains to little unwelcomed precipitation, because I can assure you that the merging of cobalt sea and sky is equally as captivating in gale-force winds as it is on an idyllic summer’s afternoon. When you emerge barefoot from the shadows of the forest you will see why it is not only the preferred spot for basking seals, but is also a heavenly place to nestle in the dunes and watch the waves. 

Once there you’re rather far from civilization, so don’t forget to bring provisions from one of St Andrew’s endless selection of cafés. Given the choice I would walk straight past the dreaded Subway in favour of a superfood salad from Bibi’s café on North Street and a ‘London Fog’ (blend of tea, spices and foaming milk) from Beanscene to fight off the chill. 

If you stay past sunset, then head to The Vic (renamed the Social Club) for a comfortingly cliché cocktail in a jar. Mitchell’s restaurant, which is just a little further down Market Street, also has live folk music towards the end of the week and there’s even a ceilidh to be had at neighbouring Forgan’s if you’re lucky.

Drenched in sunshine, a fellow flower-child and I took the opportunity to drive out to the bohemian haunt Pillars of Hercules in Falkland for a modest carrot and ginger juice amongst the most alluring array of indulgences from macadamia nut and dark chocolate spread to vegan red velvet cake and coconut tea. Not only did the charming farm shop spellbind us, but they also have beautiful orchards overwhelmed with cherry blossom and overflowing vegetable patches in surrounding plots.

 It is simply dreamy, especially the walk through the forest where you pass frightening pagan masks on the red squirrel trail, before eventually coming to a winding wall inscribed with mysterious Scottish phrases to ponder. As we passed a single Hawthorn tree, my companion taught me that seeing one standing alone actually signifies the entrance to a forgotten fairy world. I was in heaven.

The next morning, the weather was not to our favour, but nevertheless, the rocky terrain of a rather stormy Kingsbarns beach was to be our landscape of choice. As always we underestimated the beach’s untainted beauty until we tumbled down the pathway to be met with a sort of ethereal haze lingering above the cerulean swell. 

A stone’s throw from St Andrews, Kingsbarns beach is the perfect place to burn off an indulgent brunch at one of the town’s best beloved student burrow’s like the North Street’s North Point café where – so says the sign - ‘Kate met Wills’. It serves the dreamiest Oreo hot chocolates, naughty pancakes and blackberry crumbles you’ll find anywhere in the Kingdom. However, the queue can be rather tedious, so if you’re feeling restless, nip round the corner to Jannetta’s ice cream bar, which not only serves the infamous, ruinous Irn Bru sorbet of my youth, but the most blissfully chocolatey ice cream sundaes. Mischievous I know, but surely the basic ingredients of honey, milk and cocoa qualify as breakfast staples?

Everyone will tell you to round off a day in Fife by heading to Anstruther’s world-renowned fish and chip shop, but truth be told I think its somewhat over-rated and would instead direct you to Elie’s Ship Inn, where they not only serve exquisitely sloppy, salt & vinegar-drenched chips, but also delectable fiery Bloody Marys to sip on their terrace. 

The wonderfully chaotic array of picnic tables offers the most gorgeous panoramic views across the harbour at sunset (without the extortionate price tag of some of the nearby seafood restaurants). The pub also runs the summer cricket matches as well as our cherished New Year’s day BBQ, which is a crucial way of remedying the trauma of the traditional early morning dip in the Forth (and relieving the infamous Hogmanay hangover). 

Finally, beyond the allure of St Andrew’s notorious Lizard Lounge, the only way to approach midnight on a summer evening in Fife is to build a habitually hazardous bonfire and decant the whisky.

Turner Watercolours

Turner: Watercolours from the West

Bristol City Museum and Art Gallery

Thanks to the Art Fund, the Bristol City Art Gallery is presently exhibiting eight of J M W Turner’s first watercolours, which he painted as a young artist when visiting Bristol for sketching. Joseph Mallord William Turner (1775-1851) was a British Romantic, landscape painter and water-colourist famous for his elevation of the landscape painting genre to the level of history painting. He is commonly described as the ‘painter of light’ in reference to his watercolours and oil paintings, which you will see when you visit. He was also widely regarded as the Romantic preface to Impressionism, which is evident in his watercolours 'en plein air', which beautifully capture the light of the Avon Gorge with light, airy brushstrokes. From his journals we know he loved to explore and this is evident from the views we're given from his eyes as he emerges from forests, climbs in caves or gives us a view of the whole river basking in sunlight. 

The watercolours on display were exquisite, they captured the romantic landscape of Bristol, which we all too often overlook as bustling students. Turner draws on the power of nature by dwarfing his delicate figures beneath towering rock faces as they scale their surfaces or work on the river banks in brightly coloured 19^th century costume. His colour palettes are predominantly muted with earthy tones for the rocks, greens for the organic shapes and gentle blues for the sea and swollen clouds. The scenes featured boats pulling into the old docks, majestic riverside buildings, which could still stand today and sweeping landscapes - all equally beautiful and delicately rendered. 

He demonstrates his technical skill by framing the landscapes with lush branches weighed down by leaves (as below) or the crescendo of light within tunnels of rocks. And, what was so astounding was the level of detail he achieved with tiny brush hairs in those watercolours, which were barely as big as our palms. With incredibly fine brushes he correctly rendered the dimension of buildings, trees and figures with impressive use of perspective. The curation of the exhibition was lovely, the works were displayed against a dimly lit, cobalt blue background and evenly spaced throughout an intimate room on the first floor. I would highly recommend popping in to see these for a revision break, it only takes about twenty minutes to stroll round and is a truly enchanting way to see Bristol as it was. 

Banksy

Mobile Lovers by Banksy

Bristol City Art Gallery

"The human spirit must prevail over technology" Albert Einstein. 

Bristol's cultural icon, the elusive 'Banksy' has returned to the city's street art scene. The world-renowned - yet pseudonymous street artist -  is known for his satirical street art with its unique stencilling technique. He exploded back into the media spotlight with this new graffiti illustrating a couple serrepticiously checking their smartphones as they embrace. Mobile Lovers is commenting on the damaging effects of our generation's obsession with technology and connectivity and what it does to our romantic relationships, our friendships and our ability to converse. 

The recent tale - which has captured the tabloid's imagination - focuses on how the work was sprayed onto a council-owned wall beside the Bristol Broad PlainsYouth Club, which has faced closing due to lack of funding. The club's leader took the initiative to move the piece inside to protect it from vandalism and encourage donations. However, the City Council argued it was their property and controversially placed it in the Bristol City Museum, where I saw it yesterday. Miraculously, given his anonymity, a letter has just been sent from Banksy to the Boys Club confirming that they can keep the piece if it will help them to continue with their  community work. And a happy ending came at last when the Mayor confirmed it was real letter from Banksy and that the piece would be returned. 

However, I hope that this media storm doesn't obscure the real message of Banksy's piece.  Everyday I see friends gathered to socialise, but with their eyes on their screens and I find it deeply depressing. Even worse, I watch people stroll across the street, but completely oblivious to the traffic as a result of their smartphone. Also, throughout my revision period, I've been working in the library amongst fellow students who can't focus, because their phone keeps buzzing and tempting them to indulge in some screen time - they're fearful of 'missing out'. Smartphones, social media and messaging are all developing addictions within our 'instant gratification' generation. 

Hats off to Banksy, he could not have chosen a more current issue. Aesthetically, I wouldn't necessarily wish to have a black canvas on my wall, but this could serve as a brilliant nationwide campaign against young people socially isolating themselves within social media. When will we realise that the more time we spent sifting through the pages of our hundreds of 'friends', we are losing time with the ones that matter and isolating ourselves from the real world. We must ask ourselves what we are trying to achieve by sharing a photo? Are we trying to share things we've found interesting that our friends may enjoy or are we actually trying to be perceived in a certain light, therefore becoming more and more narcissistic? Is there really anyone listening or is it just the illusion of friendship, which satisfies us now? I know that this pandemic will only worsen as technology develops, but we will be increasingly lonely, despite getting "better" connected? I know I am equally guilty of spending too much time online, but I hope that as more and more people are exposed to Banksy's work they ponder the reality of what it means to be so connected. Finally, I realise it is deeply ironic and somewhat hypocritical to share this video online, but please watch it if you fancy a reality check.

The Grand Budapest Hotel

 The Grand Budapest Hotel

Directed by Wes Anderson

I could praise it forever, but this will be short and sweet, because I have no desire to spoil the story of Wes Anderson's - American Indie's darling- latest masterpiece. We laughed and laughed and laughed. It is absolutely brilliant, a wildly intelligent fairytale for grown ups (especially those with a taste for verse). A feather-light comedy with a difference, it lures you in with its all-star cast of Ralph Fiennes, Tilda Swinton, Jude Law, Lea Seydoux and Edward Norton, but it does not need to. In fact, every element of the film is so aesthetically pleasing, it would probably do just as well without any characters at all. Nevertheless, it is a delightfully witty, deliciously indulgent murder mystery with an edge. Set in a magical luxury hotel on a snowy mountain in fictional Zubrowka, we are swept up into a colourful whirlwind of fun and debauchery with Ralph Fiennes - in his purple uniform - as our guide.

 Described by The Guardian as a 'Cathedral of Eccentricity', this hotel could not be a more dazzling setting for this whimsical tale of art theft and murder. From the crumbling 'spa' where Jude Law bathes in his spectacles to the canyon of a ghastly red dining room, every piece of set is fits perfectly. Juxtaposed with the intense attention to detail throughout the film is the bizarre decision of the director to have every character speak in their natural accent. From Indian to Irish, Russian to American, this bizarre infusion only adds to its eccentricity - as does the random use of profanities interrupting eloquent verse.

 I must get back to the marvellous set. When we are swept into the Patisserie kitchen your mouth truly waters at the sight of the delicate fancies, which are later revealed to be concealing tools used for a quick dash from a ghastly prison.

 The opulent array of costumes grow more fabulous with every scene with the kitsch maid costumes contrasting the purple suit of the lobby boy and the black leather of the sadistic murderer. With a sexual appetite for elderly women dripping in rubies and a passion for discipline as a concierge, the blissfully camp protagonist Gustave H. takes us on an adventure like no other as he sets out to steal his beloved artwork, 'boy with apple' from a family of horrifyingly violent crooks. 

Wes and his cinematographer contrived the characteristic rectilinear camera movements with extraordinary precision and you arrive in every scene as if you'd just received the invitation. Our favourite scene was Gustave's wildly unrealistic escape from prison, which begins with the breaking of iced biscuits and ends with the audience feeling as if they are being twirled on a roller coaster during an accelerated ski chase from a monastery to the edge of a cliff of ice. 

The Grand Budapest Hotel is the perfect blend of strange friendships, flourishing romance, subtle humour and violent crime - this film is not one to miss. In reference to the magnificent Gustave H., it ends with the enchanting line, 'his world had ended long before he entered it. He sustained the illusion with a marvellous grace".

Bristol Arts Festival 2014

The Bristol Arts Festival 2014

Annika Kahr's Concert with the Birds 
& Jeremy Deller's English Magic.

On Monday, there was an overwhelming variety of exhibitions and art installations happening in Bristol to celebrate the Bank Holiday Arts Festival. From a waterslide down Park Street to pop-up Slow Food restaurants, inspirational talks and performance art there was so much to choose from. Its times like this when I am so intensely grateful to be studying Art in a city bursting with such an eclectic range of culture. Our highlight of the Arts Festival was experiencing Annika Kahr’s ‘Concert with the Birds’ in the intimate venue of the 13th century Lord Mayor’s Chapel, Park Street. The idea of watching a pianist and dozens of domesticated caged birds singing in collaboration sounded too enchanting to miss. It was hauntingly beautiful - a very emotional experience. 

The piano music was the recital composer Franz Liszt's melodic 'Preaching to the Birds'. Liszt, the 19th Century Austro-Hungarian pianist and composer, took the literary legend of the Saint as the model for his virtuosic piano piece. This story, which is often illustrated in the arts and has become a form of religious folklore, tells of the following episode: Francis of Assisi, the beggar-friar and founder of the Franciscan Order, gave a sermon before a flock of birds that he came across in a field. As he came closer, the birds didn't fly away, but rather remained in situ, reacting to his words. What is of significance in this story is that Francis thereby believed that not only did humans have souls, but also the entire animal and plant worlds. The consequence being, that each creature had a conscience and was blessed with the ability to understand. Liszt translated this narrative into the language of music, which serves as a model for universal understanding.

At times the high notes of the piano blend with the birdsong and you cannot distinguish between the bird or instrument. The audience sat shoulder to shoulder in tight little pews surrounded by cages of gorgeous white doves, parakeets and a plethora of colourful songbirds. They were delightful, curious creatures that fluttered around their cages, putting on a show for the audience. As we left, we both felt there was a strangely humbling feeling that came from the overwhelming sense of being at one with nature as they sang - despite the lack of spontaneity a walk in the woods might hold. Outside the chapel protestors held signs declaring ‘birds sing in trees, not cages’, but until I find I piano in the forest, I hope many more people can have such a an awe-inspiring, sensory experience. 

We then moved on to see ‘The English Magic’ by Jeremy Deller at the Bristol City Gallery. The exhibition was originally shown in the English Pavilion at ‘La Biennale di Venezia’ and was seen there by more than 350 000 people. Deller’s compilation of art focuses on the roots of British society, making an idiosyncratic, convoluted comment on its cultural and political history, its people, icons, folklore, icons and events. The concepts of real and imagination blend and diverge as you move through the exhibition. He does this by collaborating with a range of British people from prisoners to bird sanctuaries, musicians to archeologists.

At one point you’re faced with wall-mounted rows of Neolithic and Palaeolithic hand axes before being faced by drawings by former soldiers in UK prisons. Some of which are violent and harrowing and reflect the contemporaneous scenes of Northern Irish rioting bomb damage scenes in his photographs, which juxtapose those of David Bowie’s 1972 Ziggy Stardust tour. Bowie himself was looking at the relationship between flamboyant creativity and social change through the idea of ‘character’; for eighteen months between January 1972 and July 1973, he toured the UK as Ziggy Stardust.

 On the wall of room six, a map by Scott King traced the tour's progress in red lines across a thin black outline of the British Isles. This room’s paradox really makes you consider your place in this world as the audience and how your moment of euphoria at any given time could be juxtaposed with other people’s intense suffering elsewhere. The notion of paradox is key to his work.

For us, the exhibition raised the question of role of the contemporary artist in conceptual art, because crucially, Deller has not physically made any of the art, but instead brought it together as his own compilation. Yes, this is similar to the methods of Damien Hirst for example who employs teams of artists to put his ideas together, but at least he’s even involved in the creation process, unlike Deller. 

I discussed how I struggled with this concept with my Professor this morning and we came to the conclusion that in order to understand Deller we must draw parallels between his role and the role of a theatre director who directs the actors, but does not actually have any part in the final presentation of their combined efforts. After all, Deller studied History of Art at the Courtauld and is an academic not a painter, so why not use his skills to create a beautiful compilation of other people’s Art even if he cannot make his own? His genius lies in his skills as a curator, as a collector rather than his own technical ability.

Our favourite part of the exhibition was the film ‘English Magic’. To watch it you are encouraged to lie sprawled over the wreckage of a Range Rover from the film and as the lights go down the music of the Melodians Steel Orchestra from South London comes on at a slowed pace. In slow motion powerful footage of birds of prey taking flight silences you. 

What follows is a rather perplexing jumble of shots of varying from elated children on bouncy castles to the strangely apocalyptic images of Range Rovers being gradually crushed. The slow motion footage combined with the heavy music was intensely provocative and stirring, it had a very physical effect on us.