The author, pointing to the window in the picture 'And interesting paragraph'Today was the second stage of the ‘Evocation’ project but this time I was one of the four writers, not the photographer. So unfortunately I don’t have a picture with all five performers as I did with the first stage – only of the four paintings and one of me with the painting which ‘evoked’ my story.

David, with a picture of a Norwegian ffiord gave us a wonderful mixture of myth and fact spanning from Viking times to the present day; Jo, with a drummer boy and his fife-playing companion on the battlefield, had us shedding a tear; James, given the unlikely subject of a couple of horses in a snow storm, had us in stitches. Sam (Samuel Moore) surpassed his usual brilliant self with astounding virtuoso performances of his flamenco compositions ‘evoked’ by a combination of the picture and the writer’s interpretation of it.

Unfortunately I cannot give you the three other stories as the authors may wish to enter in some competition and previous publication would prevent this. So, sadly, you have only my ‘Evocation’, as follows.

An interesting paragraph

Haynes King, who painted this picture called ‘An interesting paragraph’, was born in Barbados but came to England in his 20s. The two female figures are typical of many of his paintings but what has struck me more is the window, which also appears in several of his works. As I am a keen photographer it was his use of natural light, reflected from the newspaper to illuminate the reader’s face, which particularly appealed to me. I think the light and the newspaper are clues to the time of day: quite early in the morning.

The painting 'An interesting paragraph' by Haynes King.

Haynes King’s ‘An interesting paragraph’. Apologies for the reflections; it’s behind glass

When I first saw this picture I immediately thought of the Brontë sisters, though the environment is wrong – a quite humble cottage rather than a vicarage. Nevertheless, I chose to think of two young spinster sisters, relatively well educated so they can read and are quite well informed of world events. Research failed to uncover the date of the painting, only the date it came to this Gallery. So I chose to date the scene as 1865 and believed these sisters would have read Wuthering Heights and something from Charlotte and would have been aware that the male pen names of Currer Bell and Ellis Bell hid two talented women authors. Intelligent, well-read, they surely have dreams of meeting their own heroes and taking at least a small step up in society.

So, we might imagine the following conversation:

Here’s an interesting paragraph Emm. It says that slavery has been abolished in the United States of America. What do you think of that?” Sitting in the window reading a newspaper by the morning light, Lucy enjoyed scanning the paper and calling her sister’s attention to things she found interesting. Although she could read herself, Emily was happy with this usual arrangement.

Emily thought deeply before she replied: “It seems strange to me that a nation which fought so hard to win independence, freedom, from Britain, could retain slavery for so long. But of course there’s effectively been no slavery there for a while. How long ago was it abolished in the British Empire, thirty years or more?

Yes, something like that,” Lucy paused, then continued, “But I think we still have some kinds of slavery here, in particular for women. Because we can’t vote for members of parliament it’s very difficult to change that. It seems sad to me that the Brontë sisters felt it necessary to publish their wonderful stories with men’s names for the authors. Otherwise no one would have taken them seriously.”

Emily, always the more proactive of the two sisters, said thoughtfully, “Maybe we should try to do something about it. It’s all very well leaving it to a few ‘posh’ women in London but maybe we could push from the bottom of the pile. I kept the story about those women in London who set up a society; we could write to them. What did they call themselves? I can’t remember.”

Oh, I think it was something like ‘The Chelsea Society’, but that’s not right. It was ‘the something society’, a place in London but I can’t remember exactly,” Lucy replied.

After a minute’s silence, Emily shouted “I’ve got it, ‘The Kensington Society’, that was it! Please see if you can find that story I cut out.”

Yes that was it, and I cut another from the newspaper about some movement in Manchester. Maybe it would be better to write to the women in Manchester; we could ask about forming a group here, even go to one of their meetings. We could get a train from Leeds”. While speaking, Lucy jumped down from her window seat, shuffled through a drawer, then, “Here they are”, waving the cuttings.

What does it say about Manchester?” Emily asked.

Lucy quickly scanned the cutting: “Oh, only that some women were thinking of setting up a society, not that they’d done it. But there is a name of a woman who was interviewed about the idea – Lydia Becker. There’s no address, but we could write to the paper I suppose.”

Yes, let’s do that Lu. Meanwhile we can make a poster proposing setting up some kind of group locally and see what response we get. We might even get some more free-thinking men, our own Mr Rochesters!” Emily paused. “Even a Heathcliffe would be interesting,” she added, with a mischevious glint in her eye.

So, there we’ll leave our sisters, busy with paper and pen, with the hope that they did find their heroes though they would not get the vote in their lifetimes.

It was not until 1918 that women got the vote in the UK, and they had to wait another ten years before all women over 21 got the vote on the same terms as men. But the slavery continues even today, for example by women frequently being paid far less than men for the same job. Can you believe that, more than 150 years after my fictional conversation evoked by Haynes King’s painting?

You’ll find more information about our club, ‘Writing on the Wharfe’, on a recently created public Facebook page:

https://www.facebook.com/writingonthewharfe/

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The five ‘performers’ – Kayla, Ruxandra, Martin. John and Samuel Moore in front of the four paintings they evoked so well

Saturday was quite a day for me. Some pain I had throughout Friday carried over into Saturday and worsened but not only was I scheduled to support my writers’ club colleagues in a unique event, entitled ‘Evocation’, in Leeds Art Gallery, being also no less than ‘official photographer’, but later Petronela had booked into my favourite restaurant for my annual ‘birthday treat’. I was determined to enjoy both so employed mind over matter, helped by a few paracetamols, and had a wonderful day. I suffered on Sunday, matter overcoming mind with a vengeance, but I was happy.

I’m pretty sure the Leeds Art Gallery event was unique. Each writer first read a story or poem – about 5 to 6 minutes – which one of four pictures, very different, but in close proximity, had evoked for them. Each reading was followed by an interpretation, of not only the picture but also the ‘story’ from the writer, by a wonderful flamenco guitarist Samuel Moore.

There had been a rehearsal in the club but I studiously avoided this so the experience was absolutely fresh for me. What an experience it was too: the stories from the writers were little short of brilliant and Sam’s musical evocation was not only brilliant but emotionally moving. Perhaps because I have several copies of Sutcliffe’s famous (notorious ?) photograph of naked boys enjoying the sea at Whitby, I was particularly taken by the painting with a similar theme and when the music came I was bathing in sunshine, hot Spanish sun brought to an English scene through some astounding flamenco guitar.

The story doesn’t end here; in June stage 2 of ‘Evocation’ will take place with another four paintings in the gallery. For this event I will not be ‘official photographer’ but one of the writers, attempting to relate what a painting, Haynes King’s ‘An interesting paragraph’, evokes for me. I might need more than a fistfull of paracetamols.

Birthday treat at Emporio Italiana

This was the third time my ‘birthday treat’ has been dinner at Emporio Italia in Ilkley. This tiny restaurant, far from Ilkley ‘posh’, transports you straight to Italy. It’s not only the superb food but the atmosphere, complete with ‘waiters’ who know their food, explain each dish in detail and sing, adding to the hussle bussle you’d expect in their home country. There is no ‘menu’ as such, just what proprietor chef Luigi feels like cooking on the day, written on a large blackboard carried from table to table as required. I love it!

For the record, I had an extraordinary ‘tartino di pesce’ as a starter, salmon and prawns in a cream sauce under a cover of amazing potato mash with pork; my main was rabbit ‘coniglio alla cacciotora‘ – superb; finishing with delicious coffee and walnut tart. Petronela and I shared a bottle of house red, excellent.

Comical aside: to ensure we could get into this small restaurant Petronela booked the table way back, maybe February, and neither of us could remember what date we had booked – the Saturday before, the Saturday after or the day itself, Tuesday 15th. A panic telephone call on Friday established it was booked for the Saturday before.