Hard Work It Seems Is Not Enough

Work hard, they said, and so I did

Till midnight sometimes and beyond

I read and did as I was bid

Work hard, they said and so I did

I always was that sort of kid

There never was a magic wand

Work hard, they said and so I did

Till midnight sometimes and beyond

 

Work hard, they said, and so I read

And didn’t go to bed till noon

Believing every word they said

Worked hard until my fingers bled

And all the world was in my head

There never was a silver spoon

Work hard, they said, and so I read

And didn’t go to bed till noon

 

Work hard, they said, and so I did

And you’ll be what you want to be

No path in life will be forbid

Work hard, they said, and so I did

I always was that sort of kid

But never went to Eton, see

Work hard, they said, and so I did

And you’ll be what you want to be

 

Work hard, they said. For kids like me

Hard work it seems is not enough

The Bs I need were not to be

Work hard, they said. For kids like me

There is no university

Hey, it’s a hard knock life, kid. Tough

Work hard, they said. For kids like me

Hard work it seems is not enough

 

© Gail Foster 15th August 2020

Secrets from the Museum

The Duke's Vaunt

Boat Race Day

 The Sign-post

Review published on the Marlborough Open Studios website

http://marlboroughopenstudios.co.uk/blog

Secrets from the Museum

Inspired by a John Piper lithograph of Long Street in Devizes found online, Kate Freeman joined forces with Marlborough Open Studios and Wiltshire Museum to collate this very special little exhibition of hitherto unseen pieces from Wiltshire artists of the past and present. Those of us moved to seek out these delights were able to view the work of Ravilious, Tanner, Piper, Moore, Arnold, Inshaw and others as well as the paintings and etchings of the less well known.

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Some pieces, such as the drawing of Wolf Hall, made no pretence at great art but intrigued as glimpses in to our rural past. A portrait by Thomas Lawrence left no significant impression but information that it had been painted at age 15 shed light on the start of the artist’s journey, and the dark painting of the execution of Rebecca Smith was brought to life with the knowledge that ghouls from miles around flocked to feed on her pain. There were variations on theme of Avebury stones and wind blown barrows, and opportunities to identify lost locations.

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The works were gleaned from the BBC website, an illustrated catalogue and the museum’s archives. David Inshaw had loaned several of his works including the recent ‘Cerne Abbas Giant lll’, a different view of a classic image, haunted by ravens, and Couple Dancing, a moment of spontaneous affection observed by seagulls; light streamed through John Piper’s stained glass window and quirk peeked from his lithographs; there was the Ravilious ‘Boat Race Day’ bowl, from a private collection, which shone with a glint of Grayson Perry; Henry Grant captured a ‘Bustard’, Henry Moore took us ‘Inside the Circle’ and Robin Tanner over ‘The Meadow Stile’.

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For those of us who respond to art instinctively and emotionally rather than with an academic eye it is our immediate response to a work that matters. The curator and I both particularly enjoyed ‘The Duke’s Vaunt’, a pen and watercolour view by John Stone, a little known artist, of an ancient tree in Savernake Forest that at one point could embrace within its trunk twenty school boys and a small musical band; and ‘The Sign-post’, an 1930 etching by a former Art Master at Marlborough College that delicately depicts a lonely crossroads somewhere on the Plain.

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Works from the cabinets will be returned to the archives this week but work on the walls will remain a while. If you blinked you may have missed this, so keep your eyes open for Art, in Wiltshire and beyond, and enjoy the knowledge, inspiration and sheer delight it brings.

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Marlborough Open Studios continues through July.

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by Gail

Like Jude – a song of ignorance

In Oxford today I wept for my own folly.

Then I dried my eyes and wrote this.

For it is never too late to create.

***

As Oxford spires condescend

I am like Hardy’s Jude, obscure

I cannot blame the privileged

Or prettier girls who got it right

Labours of teachers made in vain

Sins of the fathers or the Seventies

I chose my own way wilfully

An education of a different kind

So many bridges have I drowned and yet

I now, like Lennon’s Jude, will take

My song of ignorance so badly writ

And better it

***

by Gail