adequate

 

12th Sept. Adequate is the minimum standard for a day out to get blogged here. This report and photos were borderline and only just made the grade. (Especially as I have a lot better material in the pipeline, circling and waiting to land, if you'll forgive the mixed metaphor! Adequate was the feeling I had on the day. Along with a feeling that things were nearly but not quite good enough. You leave the house with all sorts of hopes and desires - exotic butterflies, otters and kingfishers - and generally return home with more modest provisions - speckled woods and wagtails. The shortfall is what drives my mood, and as the Summer slips through our fingers like warm beach sand, so I tend to slip into the seasonally affected depression of the cold dull months of Winter. Pass the holiday brochure!

First up was a grey wagtail over the WoL at Powderhall. Possibly the same one that skits and jigs in the tunnel stream at Warriston and lost (and grew back) its tail feathers 2 years ago. And a turquoise streak of kingfisher that landed up under the bridge which is no use to camera-man nor beast. 

that's right; fuck off!

a downpour had us stand under a tree in the Botanics,

as if locating butterflies wasn't hard enough already

in a little while the sun was back and the birds a-singin'

moorhen (and offspring) at the Chinese Pond

offspring appears in video at bottom of page

red admiral at the ceratostigma minus
always a popular late-flowering blue

just before 2pm IRL,
as well as on the sundial

a small tortoiseshell and painted lady at the cafe buddleias

Mary goes macro on the small tort

worth a close up!

red admiral at the beech hedge

speckled wood on the beech hedge

dunnock came over for bread handout

There was an exhibition in Inverleith House beside the cafe. I was vaguely aware it was on but the marketing had done a good job of dissuading me from going in. However we were right next to the open doors when the second heavy shower started up and it was the obvious choice to pop round the exhibition to get out the rain. Aptly for the day I was having, it was adequate. Neither really good nor really bad but somewhere between. But it was free and indoors! 

The art - photomontage mostly - was done by a woman called Linder. One word name like Cher or Madonna but not as famous. Linder Sterling graduated in graphic design from Manchester Poly in 1977 and was influenced by the cut-and-paste world of Punk. I was surprised to see a work I recognised: her cover for the Buzzcocks' debut single Orgasm Addict. But the rest of her stuff I did not recognise and a lot of it felt old and a bit dated. 

wtf?

This is quite an original and striking work. I very nearly liked it! The issues Linder "confronts" in her work are by no means out of date and we should pay just as much attention to them now as in the 70s. However I felt Richard Hamilton kinda covered the whole photomontage satirical commentary thing and perhaps did it better way back in 1956 with the likes of "Just what is it that makes todays' home so different, so appealing".

I don't know who wrote the text in the descriptive piece beside the work but since they wrote "and smiling faces where the nipples would be" (you mean mouths?) I'm guessing they weren't really paying attention. Linder's use of models and 'pornography' is so blandly wholesome (by comparison to the last 20 years of internet porn,) that it no longer shocks (did it ever?) and perhaps misses the mark. And as a result is in danger of just becoming part of the marketing world. How many Buzzcocks fans saw that image above and assumed it was there to be sexy, to appeal to the male gaze, not condemn it.

And did anyone in the history of that image even notice the 2 nearly invisible elastoplasts where the woman is still in recovery from a boob job. Now that IS an issue that has only grown in size and festered since 1977: that woman feel they would rather have their bodies butchered and augmented than live naturally. And worth more enquiry than the vexed question of who does the ironing. (I'm pretty sure Mary has never ironed a shirt of mine. Neither of us buy many clothes that require ironing, and although we do have an iron and ironing board it only gets used super-infrequently before funerals and occasionally weddings.)

While I quite enjoyed stepping out of the rain and into this exhibition I don't feel it was anywhere as important or controversial as maybe the curators felt. There were a few pieces I liked, but a lot missed the mark or I just found archaic and only interesting in a history-of-art kind of way. I'm glad Linder made a living from it but it failed somewhat to jump off the wall and engage my eyes and brain.

we had some fun handfeeding this greedy juvenile gull

it did an interesting dance (Gangnam Stye?) when I gently held onto its beak

hover on Autumnal crocus

Euonymus - spindle tree

the Kazak pear was fruiting
note the gall on the leaf underside next to the pear

autumn crocuses

Back round the other side of the cafe and we came across the Linder re-interpretation of Reg Butler's Girl statue. She describes this as collaborative intervention. So how do you collaborate with someone who died in 1981? I'm pretty sure if you look up the definition of collaborate it does not say putting your ideas next to someone's work without their knowing about it, consenting or approving. And whispering 'darling' in a girl's ear doesn't sound very feminist. But what do I know?

looks okay from this angle

but from here, not so much

fresh speckled at the beech hedge

Mary headed home but I felt unsatisfied and went looking for more images. I thought I might noise up some hovers in the demonstration garden. Almost nothing there. After a bit more grumping around I was heading towards the East Gate next to the work going on at the greenhouses there, when I thought I saw a kestrel sitting on the barriers there, in front of some long grass. I approached as quietly as possible using the large boards next to the working area as cover. Once the boards turned from solid panels to railings and wire fence, I slowly edged out and saw the kestrel still perched on the railing, looking for mice in the long grass. It didn't spot me at first, but when it did, it seemed to consider me too far away to bother with. I stood quietly and took too many photos.

kestrel and JCB

as close as I could get (and then cropped in)

From first photo to last I was there 20minutes. It even rained on and off while I stood there waiting for the bird to catch a mouse. In many ways I'd rather that it didn't, (I like mice and didn't want to see one ripped to pieces) but if it had to happen, then I'd get a photo. Also, open wing shots are preferable to sat still doing nothing shots. So I put the camera into pre-burst mode and waited for the bird to prey. As soon as it left the railing I'd shoot the sequence. Only it took its time. It sat and waited. I stood and waited. Every now and then my finger - halfway down on the shutter release - would get restless and I'd accidently fire off another 20 shots. The degree of desperation in my heart is reflected by the 354 shots I took of the kestrel from the moment I saw it to last shot atop the greenhouses. And not many of them above adequate. 

sun came out briefly!
note overlapping toes!

eventually it left the perch

should've left more height for the reach upward
who knew?

and back, but no mouse - going hungry tonight?

you still there watching me?

off to the highest heights
20mins was more than enough and I left too

I went past Warriston Cemetery - just in case. However there was even less there than in the Botanics. Once round and I was back out the gate. I stopped at St Marks. I was considering throwing bread for the gang of thirty crows that hang out there, when I saw this stock dove. (Not a pigeon!) It had a pronounced limp so instantly won my affections and the crows watched in disbelief as I tossed peanuts one by one, just in front of this friendly charmer. The crows don't dare come so close, so missed out. The dove stashed away about 30 nuts in its crop (and yet looked no larger despite a fistful of peanuts on board!) which I hoped would give it strength to help it mend whatever was making it limp. And that was that. Time for bed said whatsisname.

an adequate collection of video clips from the day