Landskipping: Painters,
Ploughmen and Places - Anna Pavord
I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Whilst being very useful and informative, it
is an easy and pleasurable read; as the Daily Telegraph says 'Written by a scholar,
reads like a thriller. Pavord writes for
the independent and has done since its launch in 1986. She writes and presents programmes for BBC
Radio 3 and 4 and has served on the Gardens Panel for the National Trust. The book is a celebration of landscape and
explores our relationship with it through the ages. As well as describing her personal
experiences of and response to the land she has divided the book into three
main sections: Prospects and Painters, Prospects and the Plough and Prospects
and Places.
In the first section she examines how
painters and artists have responded to the land over the years. She covers some familiar ground with her
discussions of the Picturesque and Sublime and their representation with
particular reference to such as William Gilpin and Claude Lorraine with his
'Claude Glass' and Edmund Burke. She
also looks at how poets and writers related to the land, especially William
Wordsworth. Like many, she is critical
of Gilpin and refers to his comment that 'Nature requires a helping hand' which
he gave in his paintings where the view was often altered to fit his stringent
rules for the picturesque. On the Claude
Glass she says that a view didn't exist until it had been mediated (by looking
at it through the glass with the viewer's back to the scene). The Claude Glass she says 'corrected' the
landscape. She is critical of 'landscape
tourism', not just from Gilpin's day but from today with our 'brown signs' and
viewpoints marked on maps. She argues
that we are still being told what view to look at and how to look at it. Even a large proportion of photographers plant
their tripods in the marks of those who have gone before. I was interested when she feels that 'of all
the places in our shrinking islands that can still deliver that sense of the
sublime that Burke wrote about, for me is Wester Ross' and, further, 'For the sublime,
you need go no further than the Applecross Peninsular and look west to the five
planes of alternating darkness and light towards the Cuillin Mountains of Skye'. A view I have both enjoyed and photographed.
In the second part of her book she moves
her attention from recorders of the landscape to those who have worked in and shaped
it. She describes how, ever since the
Neolithic, man has shaped, changed and altered the land, making it it a place
in which to live and feed himself. She
argues that it is a fallacy that our landscape is an entirely natural
phenomenon and that even as far back as Domesday, only 20% of the country was
covered in wild wood. It did not look as
it does today, but nor was it natural.
She writes about the government's Board of Agriculture set up in 1794
and those who reported back to it such as Arthur Young who published his commentaries
on the state of agricultural England at the same time that William Gilpin was
touring the River Wye. She writes of
William Cobbett who also reported to the Board and liked to travel slowly. He said that 'Speed diminishes the gifts that
a Journey can give you...' and 'I want to slow down the whole process, stay in
touch with moving over the landscape'. This is my view entirely and part of my inspiration
for walking home from Lincoln Cathedral via the Witham Valley Abbeys.
In the final part of the book she writes
about what landscape means to her and describes Dorset where she lives now and
returns to her childhood landscape, where the book began: the area of South
Wales near the Sugar Loaf. She describes
her walks and bemoans the plethora of brown tourists signs and notice boards
arguing that 'There seems to be rather little that we are allowed to discover
now, without some notice board looming up and telling us how to look, how to
decode. Interpretation of this kind is
death to a natural landscape'. Again she
promotes walking as a way to discover the land '....for these messages to be
heard you need to be on foot, not hurtling round the Tess (of the
D'Urbervilles) trail notching off landmarks in your car'. I was interested when she point out the OED
definition of landscape: a view or prospect of natural scenery. Natural
seems to exclude any man altered land - is this not landscape too? I liked one of her concluding remarks that
'Time is stitched into a landscape, but time is measured by different kinds of
clock: geologic, historical, seasonal and diurnal'. A fact which neatly reinforces my inspiration
for experimenting with ICMs.
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