Today my friend David and I wandered around 'Birrarung Marr', the open space adjacent to the CBD commemorating Melbourne's Aboriginal presence. We listened to these bells, these 'Federation Bells', pealing, booming, tinkling, and continued wandering, to the National Gallery of Victoria's Australian and International collections.
Above, the back of Federation Square and its leaping steps I like to take one at a time.
A run of Moreton Bay figs along the banks of the Yarra River. It's winter now, and the air's cold, but this morning the sun was shining.
I love the handful of Eucalypts growing along here most of all, for their twisting and ancient elegance,
and I love the sculptures. Here, a cradle, a water trough, a shield? - we couldn't work it out, but I'd be happy to climb into it to keep me warm in Melbourne's winter...
or climb up on this totem, to reach higher to the sun.
Above, one of many splendid Gymea lilies, gigantic, monstrous, huge, they rise way, way up towards Heaven,
and here, one of a group of 'tribal' sculptures, an embodiment of actions and acts whose origins come from beyond this world, beyond this riverbank, but which, embodied here, tell of continuity.
However new this city is, it is in fact, one of the oldest settlements in the world,
far older than this Goliath bronze, created by Auguste Rodin in 1898 and cast in 1967.
This bronze, 'Tree of Life' ( 1961 ), by the Italian Pino Conte was perhaps my favourite view. The bells of Heaven swing not only above us and around us, but for us, with us.
Above, one of the many winter trees outside the National Gallery of Victoria, Australia's pre-eminent art collection. It's the stones around its bed that caught my eye,
when I wasn't gazing out through several Heavens...
or seeing objects such as these seats, themselves an artwork, a reminder of a heavenly place to recline.
Henry Moore's 'draped seated woman' ( 1958 ) knows how to recline well. Perhaps she hears the peal of bells from across the river...
...such as from this one, one of 39 in the Federation Bells installation, unveiled ( or heard out loud for the first time ) on Australia Day, 26/01/2002.
Time is nothing new. Its sounds ring out from way back when, when we were little more than airwaves...
who stood, eventually, like sculptures in a landscape, and made our sound ring out, and ring out real into the world.
With thanks to our Aboriginal forebears and to David, for making Heaven real to me.
A wonderful collection of photos. I think my favourite is the Eucalypt which, to me, embodies the spirit of Australia, as ancient as the continent, yet still flourishing.
ReplyDeleteThankyou, Friko. Me too, Eucalypts speak of rigour and forbearance.
DeleteWhat a lovely place, Faisal. I too like the solitary tree on its mound of stones. There has been some thefts of Henry Moores and other sculptures here in the UK. It is believed they've been stolen for their scrap value! Imagine. How tragic is that? Dave
ReplyDeleteTragic, absolutely. What a stupid waste. Stones I'd like to use alot more of, Dave.
DeleteFaisal I can only imagine the wonderful sound coming from those bells. I have always loved to hear the bells ringing after Church services and celebrations. Unfortunately so many have been silenced because of sound ordinances. It is such a shame. Thank you for the visit. The sculptures are amazing. I am still trying to decide what I think the first one might have been, but I think it would make a fabulous fountain. Enjoy your weekend.
ReplyDeleteBonnie, as you walk among the bells, the sounds go through you. Some are very light, some boom. It's not deafening at all. The overall effect has the spontaneous joy of an Asian religious festival. You too have a great weekend!
DeleteThe bells ring electronically? At random? Or as a carillon?
ReplyDeleteDiana, as far as I understand, the compositions are electronically prompted, but the bells are actually rung.
DeleteFaisal, I do appreciate your sharing your idiosyncratic way of seeing things. The images you chose, and within the images what you focus on, e..g the stones around the tree bed. I wish people would use more aesthetic labels - that white blob spoils the otherwise satisfying picture.
ReplyDeleteYes, Catmint, I wanted to take the white signage out, but, of course Security was present! You're very generous - I only wish I knew more about photography, but then, technology's my weak point. Correction: ONE of my weak points.
ReplyDeleteI've never been to Australia and really loved the artsy tour. I always love to see the art of a place and love how organic many of the shapes you presented are. How cold is it there? I thought Australia was always warm. :o)
ReplyDeleteYou have no blog, Casa Mariposa? You should, with a name like that. Thankyou kindly. Yes, organic shapes speak volumes to me. Tonight I think it will get down to 4 degrees Celsius, which, for us sun-worshippers, is cold. Parts of southern Australia, in particular, get cold in winter, and we even get snow on our alps. Nothing like Europe, of course. My best to you, and I hope you get here one day.
DeleteI love all those sculptures, Faisal. Those tribal sculptures feel both primitive and modern to my eye. Thanks for taking us there.
ReplyDeleteSculpture, to me Michael, can be like what you can see in gardens. And gardens are usually both old and new, ancient and becoming. Thankyou. I too like that juxtaposition.
DeleteI love the photographs, there is a rhythmic and harmonious quality about them.
ReplyDeleteI hope the rhythmic and harmonious quality isn't a one-off, Jenny! Thankyou.
Deletei love this post. the journey you take me on visually.
ReplyDeleteyour poetic eye. the fig tree roots curving like a half bell, the bells above which ring because you describe them, the whole architectural wonder of place and your gaze.
Thankyou, Mansuetude! You see things and you have to tell the world, don't you, you want others to know.
ReplyDelete