Archives for posts with tag: Sand

fossil dissolve: sebastiane hegarty
Remembering Chalk, a day of rain, hand dryers, neolithic landscapes, guttering and singing dunes, exhausted shelves and spectral houses, the last sightings of extinct songs, lavender sellers and the long quiet fall of light through Connemara.
The curator and writer Jodie Dalgleish reflects on the symposium, Chalk: time, sense and landscape in her article for the New Zealand on-line art review EyeContact: http://eyecontactsite.com/2015/11/sally-ann-mcintyre-at-winchester-symposium

Link to the full un-edited Essay by Jodie Dalgleish available here:
Time Sense Landscape Essay: Jodie Dalgleish

Sally Ann McIntyre
Sally Ann McIntyre: Victoria Rick
Symposium Chair: Marius Kwint
Marius Kwint: Victoria Rick
Symposium Keynote Speaker: John Levack Drever
John Levack Drever: Victoria Rick
Archaeologist: Nick Thorpe
Nick Thorpe: Victoria Rick
Sound Artist and Symposium Curator: Sebastiane Hegarty
Sebastiane Hegarty: Victoria Rick
Geologist: Michael Welland
Michael Welland: Victoria Rick
Architectural Historian: Karen Fielder
Karen Fielde: Victoria Rick
Composer: Paul Whitty
Paul Whitty: Victoria Rick
Sound Archivist & Curator of London Sound Survey: Ian Rawes
Ian Rawes: Victoria Rick
Sally Ann McIntyre and Marius Kwint
Sally and Marius: Victoria Rick
Film Artist: Guy Sherwin
Guy Sherwin: Victoria Rick
Film: Connemara by Guy Sherwin
Guy Sherwin Connemara 2: Victoria Rick

Symposium Photography: Victoria Rick

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The Little Prince: Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
In his book Sand: a journey through science and the imagination, the geologist Michael Welland writes ‘deserts are landscapes of the mind as much as physical realities, places of metaphor and myth.’ It is fitting then that the title for his forthcoming presentation at Chalk: time, sense and landscape, is taken from Antoine de Saint-Exupery’s The Little Prince:

‘Yet through the silence something throbs, and gleams.’  

Welland writes:
As the words of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry remind us, the landscapes of the desert notoriously play havoc with all human senses. Rare sounds become amplified, aromas, other than some kind of unfathomable minerality, are entirely absent, and the range of what seems visible becomes exaggerated. Our sense of scale is comprehensively challenged – a single sand grain and a sea of dunes vie for our attention (and seem equally fascinating). The great chronicler of the deserts of the American southwest, Edward Abbey, wrote: “There is something about the desert that human sensibility cannot assimilate.” Our response to what is seen, and unseen, is very much subjective and cultural, the perception of landscape, time, and scale being quite different for the insider and the outsider. And then there are the stories that the landscape tells the geologist…

So looking forward to hearing the deserts tell their stories.

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