a sonic painting by Eph
1 Johann Johannsson & Yair Elazar Glotman – A Minor Astronomical Event
2 Holy Wave – I’m Not Living in the Past Anymore
3 Mong Tong – Ancient Mars
4 Okkyung Lee – Here We Are (Once Again)
5 Kooba Tercu – Fair Game
6 Audio Obscura – Castles On Earth
7 Magic Brother & Mystic Sister – Utopia
8 Andy Falconer (AFP) – B7 V6
9 A.A. Williams – Dirt
10 Tengger – Water
11 Liar, Flower – 9N – AFE
The Jolly Eccentric, Bidulpham
The renaming of pubs by breweries has become a source of seething in many communities during recent years. The weather-bullied signs that scrape and sigh above the roadsides of England are storytellers. They are recorders of folklore, local historians – a communal bank of remembrance. As the cunning folk of Hookland are often recorded as saying, there is power in naming. Denominations such as The Three Horseshoes may tell of the time an inn had a blacksmith’s forge attached to it, The Smudge’s Prize hint at a now lost industry of charcoal burning once conducted in nearby forest.
The erasure of the wonderful pointers to the past for the sake of hollow marketing phrases such as ‘brand continuity’ speaks to an increasing lack of respect for locality by big businesses. Yet, in 1977 while out-of-county brewers were earning curses for insensitive renamings of the pubs including The Howling Tooth, Old Mother Broadman’s Pot and The Faery Bun to the shared blandness of The Silver Jubilee, local ale company Hicks was praised for retitling The Quarrymen’s Arms on the north-east edge of Bidulpham to The Jolly Eccentric. Regular drinkers and members of the English Eccentrics Club who held an annual event at the tavern saw it as fitting memorial to former landlord Derek Byrant. A former professional racing and rally car driver and former holder of the title of Wear of England’s Longest Moustache, Byrant had retired to his native Hookland and taken over the tenancy of The Quarrymen’s Arms in 1964. Always a colourful character with an eye for a gimmick – he had once competed in the London-Istanbul Rally with a monkey in a butler’s uniform as his ‘mechanic and back-up navigator’ – Byrant regularly used the tavern to host unusual gathering. These included a world record attempt for the largest gathering of one-legged men and women, the World Cream Cracker Eating Contest and the English Eccentrics Club’s Summer Convention. He also used the extensive garden area of The Quarrymen’s Arms to run a sideline business offering trips in a hot-air balloon he had won in a bet in Baden-Baden. In 1976 at the height of interest in the ‘Hookland Bigfoot’ whipped up by author Brian Danebury, the fateful decision was taken by Byrant to become involved in hunting for evidence of it.
Danebury’s work collecting modern sighting of an unidentified hairy biped as well as re-interpretation of earlier accounts of the ‘wildman of Hookland’, or as the Victorians termed it ‘the modern woodwose’, had become a minor media circus after BBC’s Nationwide aired a segment on it. Re-christening his balloon from the Baden Bet to the Woodwose One, Byrant ensured local television news was at The Quarrymen’s Arms on the August bank holiday to film the dawn inflation for his inaugural, and as it would turn out, only wildman-hunting flight. In an interview with Hookland Independent Television conducted minutes before lift-off Byrant explained the rationale behind his somewhat bizarre jaunt:
“If there is a true, archaic wildman in Brockwood, to survive undetected in the 20th century they’d need to have incredible hearing and smell. There’s little hope of any researcher approaching him or her on foot. Humans are noisy and tainted by soap and deodorants. We stink of modernity. By balloon, a relatively noiseless craft, we can not only survey great distances with the advantage of height, we can avoid spooking the beast below. You won’t spot a woodwose if you go looking with gyrocopter cacophony or helicopter riot. You will get no glimpse of the past by modern methods. Older technology to catch feral ancient is the way to go. The only recently invented kit we are taking on the flight are the film cameras and the tranquiliser darts. People like you call me an eccentric because I favour a pre-diluvian style of facial hair, because I believe in the possibility of cryptids. If having a sense of style and wanting to take on a challenge, to solve a mystery is considered as slightly strange behaviour these days, I am proud to be one.”
Filmed floating off towards Brockwood without any apparent problem, the ground team following Woodwose One lost visual and radio contact with Bryant and his crew when their van was involved in a collision with another vehicle pulling a horsebox. In the confused tumble of time after the accident, no-one worried too much about the balloon. By the time people became concerned, the great heatwave which had seen 45 consecutive days in the country without rainfall and the appointment of Denis Howell MP as Minister of Drought, broke in spectacular fashion. A violence of thunderstorms resulted in flash flooding as 80mm of rain fell in Hookland. Inundated emergency services did not have the capacity to immediately prioritise the search for the now missing Byrant and his balloon. When they eventually began seeking in earnest to find out what had happened to him and his two man crew of Lawrence Wilson and Sherry Perkins, they could find no trace of Woodwose One at all. Ironically given Bryant’s comments about their uselessness in hunting the ‘Hookland Bigfoot’, both gyrocopters and helicopters alongside light aircraft, were used in a fruitless attempt to find a possible crash site. Even three years on, no hint of wreckage has ever been recovered. While some have tried to weave the disappearance of Woodwose One into narratives of UFO or faery abduction, time-slips or portals to parallel dimensions, the official view remains harshly prosaic. In a statement made to the press in October 1976, Detective Inspector Armitage of the Hookland Constabulary said:
“We believe in only two possibilities. We either have an as yet unfound crash site with three dead bodies at it or Mr. Bryant and his crew have been wasting the time of hundreds of people by staging this disappearance as a woefully misjudged publicity stunt. I’d like to give Byrant the benefit of the doubt, but he once held a World’s Smelliest Hippy contest and employed a monkey called Mr. Jinks as a pot man, so he has form for stupid ideas.”
At the renaming ritual for the tavern on the following August bank holiday, a new sign was unveiled depicting a likeness of the Wodehouse One floating above a wood in which a cheeky wildman can be just be glimpsed, Speaking at the ceremony, Bryrant’s wife and possible widow Josephine said:
“Derek would have liked the new name, enjoyed being turned into part of the story of this place. If a man who once danced with two queens (Elizabeth II and Grace Kelly), raced cars on five continents and never once worried about people calling him odd doesn’t deserve to be immortalised this way, then no-one does. England was built by eccentrics and it would be a jolly bad show if we ever stopped celebrating them.”
. . .
David Southwell is an author of several published books on true crime and conspiracies, which have been translated into a dozen languages. However, these days, he mostly writes about place.
Of Stones and Waves
I love being by the sea. I don’t live by the sea nor did I grow up by the sea but I feel at home by the sea.
I love the wind blowing through my being, the smell of salt and seaweed. I love picking up pebbles and find their shapes and markings grounding, comforting and at times exhilarating and hugely inspiring.
I’ve been known to go into a stone trance…
A few years ago I found a fossilized sea urchin, which had very distinctive markings on one side. I soon came to think of this shape as being a ‘sea shaman’, anthropomorphic, neither fully human nor animal, gender fluid, belonging to the sea and the shore, communing with the elements, the marine wildlife and plants.
And yes, I am aware of the controversial use of the term ‘shaman’, and still, the term stuck. This stone started me off on an ongoing series of sketches, paintings and prints.
Here is a painting in a sketchbook looking at both sides of the fossil.
Seashaman riding a whale
Seashaman surfing, surrounded by sea mammals
One night I had a dream. Of finding another stone, smooth, round, a flint pebble, nearly black, with stark white markings. The stone showed the seashaman figure, surfing, followed by an enormous wave, threatening to engulf them but at the same time I knew that they were able to ride the wave, and were in no danger. Able to ride it out.
This resulted in a series of prints, in which I tried to capture this dream image.
And endless sketches of waves
I started creating sculptures that I would take to the sea and photographed them in a way where their size was unclear in the context of the background. Sculptures that became part of the shore and sea landscape, melding with stones. I would take most of them home again, yet some I would offer to the sea
I researched selkie stories, seal-folk that can take on human shape when they slip out of their sealskin. If somebody finds their skin the selkie no longer is able to change back into their seal shape but have to stay land-bound until they regain their true skin. These stories hardly ever have happy endings.
Here I created a seal-woman with her seal child/pup
And a seal head on the shore
I took one of my owl women to the sea. I photograph her in all sorts of environments, wherever I go, so too at the sea
Recently I started creating otter linoprints.
This is my latest otter linocut, and currently my favourite. The group made me think of three otter-Nornes, contemplating the fate of seafarers and landlocked folk alike. Note the little sailboat on the left…
[Note: the otter group was inspired by a photograph by Brydon Thomason]
And here are two otters, diving, delving through the water. I am fascinated by the playfulness and underwater acrobatics of otters, their agility and ability to lithely twist and twirl.
The otters above are delving amongst some kelp plants. I find kelp incredibly beautiful in their own way, undulating in the currents. I fell in love with kelp in a big way watching David Attenborough’s Blue Planet II, ‘The Green Seas’.
There is a correlation between sea otters, kelp forests and sea urchins, with sea otters feeding on sea urchins, which are able to destroy kelp on a massive scale when left unchecked; healthy kelp forests in turn contribute to absorbing vast amounts of carbon for photosynthesis and helping global environmental health.
I love the idea of sea otters being the guardians of kelp forests.
Below is a polystyrene print of an otter diving for sea urchins surrounded by kelp plants and a jellyfish. I am not sure whether jellyfish co-exist with otters, sea urchins and kelp in the same time-space continuum but I think they work together very nicely on a visual level. Artistic license and all that…
Otters also wrap themselves (and their young) in strands of kelp rooted in the ocean floor, anchoring themselves so they won’t drift away on the ocean current.
Years ago I came across a photograph of a group of kelp plants, photographed from below, their stems and leaves growing and reaching upwards, suffused with sunlight, floating through the water surface. Their floating shapes somehow reminded me of the Nike of Samothraki, which has been displayed in the Louvre in Paris since 1884 (with ongoing petitions to have her returned to Samothraki); she is one of my favourite sculptures ever. If you don’t know her, do look her up…
I created various versions of a Kelp Nike of Samothraki. See one of them below. I might return to this subject matter again another time.
So… the sea, the element of water, marine creatures and plants; this is one ongoing thread in my creative work. I find I do not work in a linear way, I do not do ‘projects’ that I follow through to a specific end. I have themes that I dip into, immerse myself and then come back to, sometimes after many years.
I could create threads similar to the sea-inspired one above on many subjects I have been pursuing. Owls and owlwomen. Bears. Goddesses. Ganesha, tantric deities, yantras. Not to forget Hookland (and I have been known to drop everything else for a while when a quote by Hookland’s C.L. Nolan or Emily Banting captures my imagination).
Labyrinths would be another thread…
The image below shows the first labyrinth I ever built, made up of stones gathered on the beach. No doubt it was swept away by the next tide. At times I wonder whether the blueprint remains and whether sea creatures swim and wander this labyrinth at high tide
And possibly Owlwoman is there, too
I’ll conclude with an image of the last labyrinth I built, which was on the same beach as my first labyrinth. And: this also is the location where I found the fossilized sea urchin that started the journey outlined above in the first place.
I have a background in sculpture (I studied Sculpture in the 80s in Germany) and Theatre Design (Central St. Martins) but did not take well to formal art education. I am happiest when I am able to be creative in a playful and experimental state without any fixed ideas or expectations of outcome.
At the core of my art is a strong connection to nature; the spirits of animals and plants, landscape, stones, the sea and the elements. My art is about pattern recognition, weaving dreams, stories and images into a whole.
Have a looksee if you like. Browse, enjoy!
You can also see a selection of my work on my website, which I haven’t updated for a while, so it has a bit of an archival feel http://mariastrutz.co.uk/
I sometimes post new prints or work in progress on Twitter as @mariastrutz