Sacro Bosco di Bomarzo

Ever since I first spied the image of the gaping mouth of l’Orco and his eyes, relentlessly staring, demanding you search your soul, I knew that Sacro Bosco was an incredibly special place. For many years I’ve dreamed of and hoped to visit this incredible garden, and finally 2024 was the year.

Sacro Bosco lies nestled in the hills of Lazio, in a remote and unassuming area. The charming village of Bomarzo is perched on a hill directly over the garden, and is crowned by the castle of Orsini, built by one of the most powerful families in central Italy during the medieval period. This fantastical ‘monster garden’ was the brainchild of Pier Orsini, Duke of Bomarzo, who together with his architect dreamed up this bizarre wonderland where he could stroll from his castle directly to this incredible playground of men, monsters and Animalia. 

Commissioned in 1547 this oasis of oddities was more than just a strange sculpture park. It was a philosophical journey which Orsini wanted to take humanity on. A visual, mental and emotional voyage through art and nature, and as a self confessed worshiper of art and nature, who could resist such a proposition?

Upon entering through a crenelated archway that looks as old and craggy as time itself, you are met by two Sphinx brandishing plaques. These whimsical women ponder;
‘Tu ch’entri qua pon mente parte a parte e dimmi poi se tante meraviglie sien fatte per inganno o pur per arte’,
Roughly meaning in English; 'You who enter here, put your mind to it piece by piece and tell me then if these wonders were made as deception or art' a thought provoking entrance, and one which sets the philosophical tone of the garden. 

The dappled shade kindly provided by the foliage is welcome in the afternoon heat, and soon the sound of rustling leaves is overpowered by that of waterfalls and a stream gently flowing secretly out of view. When the garden was first completed the sound of water must have been an ever present companion on any walk in this wonderland. Fountains are at every turn, and the complex of pools and flowing water must have been quite a feat of engineering as well as ingenuity. Now many are dry and mere hints of their former fountain glory, but in some way the imagination of seeing the invisible feels an essential part of this place.

Quickly following the neat paths laid between the trees and shrubs you are greeted by the grotesques which Sacro Bosco is so famed for. A gaping mouth with the weight of the world on his mind 'Proteo Glauco' a Greek god is a small taster of what is to come.
Through the foliage glimpses begin to emerge of what feels like a lost ancient temple. Giant faces peek out, and upon descent to a lower level the battle of Cacus and Hercules is revealed, huge and powerful. These muscular giants tower over you in a tangle of power and strength. Looking at their physique I couldn’t help but think of William Blake’s incredible approach to human physiology, huge chunks of writhing meat fueled by pure emotion. Did Blake ever see images of these creations? I know not. But the similarities in style are undeniable. 

The beauty of this place and it’s character is constantly developing and evolving. Semi ruined tomb like facades fade into nature. With carvings becoming unworked stone, and grotesque faces peering at you from the mossy floor. Flawless integration between human creation and nature only adds to the mystery of this place. What has been manipulated? What has always been? It seems a  blurred line you simply shouldn't try to define. 

The lower level of Sacro Bosco feels like some long forgotten relic, rediscovered crumbling.  Semi-ruinous and long lost, an Indiana Jonesesque wilderness. Then the illusion its gently shattered by Casa Pendente; the leaning house. Any unobservant, uninterested passer by would liken this Torre to Pisa or some other structurally unsound leaning building. Only within seconds it was clear this place was perfectly structurally sound and had been built this way. On a great, disorientating lean. As Iacopo so aptly summed up to me 'Have you been inside?! Its horrible you have to get out as fast as possible!!'
And this set the entire tone for the rest of the gardens journey for me, a total challenge to the senses ...

Things went from calm, quiet wonder to the outright bizarre, fantastical, outrageous as you ascended the next level of this utterly other-worldly place. An incredibly grandiose processional way lined by huge urns guides you down to Neptune, lounging nobally over a moss encrusted mound. A once magnificent fountain now silent and dry. He is flanked on both sides by wonders, peaking through the foliage, temptations pulling you left and right. Statues became more concentrated and compacted. The senses became saturated. Spectacles surrounded me. Elephants. Dragons. Gods. Monsters. A riot of sculpture, unsure which way to turn next and what you would see. The possibilities seem endless, and the wildest thought realised right here in stone.

And finally there he sits, nestled in amongst this carnival of surreal madness, Orco; The Ogre. The Mouth of Hell. His eternal gape has a strangely welcoming quality. His eyes fixed on you, beckoning you to join him in the most intimate way. He stands over the empty space beneath, commanding, dominating, imposing. Orco's inscription today is ambiguois; 'Ogni pensiero vola'; 'All thoughts fly away'. Perhaps a freeing of the mind and ones cares. But his message wasn't always so carefree. The original 'Lasciate ogni pensiero voi ch'entrate'; 'Abandon hope all ye who enter' was a much more ominous greeting.
Its easy to see why Orco has become the unwavering image and symbol of Sacro Bosco. He could produce a hundered different reactions in one hundered different victims. And in that alone he represents the entire purpose for the gardens creation and the psychological journey it was designed to take visitors on. Entirely personal and unique. A voyage into the unknown, on which, hopefully, every lucky participant will enrich or change their world view or life in some way.
It is interesting that to this day the true meaning and origin of the garden is still discussed and debated. Nobody can quite seem to agree on what statues mean, which god or goddess they represent, and ultimately what Orsini wanted to accomplish with the construction of this otherworldly place. Whatever Count Orsini was attempting to create, one things for certain, his legacy is this incredible garden. An eternal paradise of the fantastical and bizarre. Encapsulating so much culture, mythology and mystery its really not easy to wrap your head around exactly what you're seeing. But I strongly suspect, Orsini would be rather happy with that fact. 

The 'Monster Park' was the sort of place I could linger every day of the year and never tire for a moment. It has a quality, a magic, the type which permeates every cell and enchanted me utterly, as an artist and a photographer. But claps of thunder and a rapid descent of threatening storm clouds meant a hasty retreat was required. And I couldn't help but feel Orco had spoken, banishing us and keeping his secrets to himself for another day ...

Death Begets Death - A Fungi Frenzy

Fungi have been one of my great passions in recent years. I have enjoyed photographing fungus whenever I happen upon them and continually challenge myself to improve at identification.
But one thing which I am always striving to do is paint and draw more mushrooms.

One day in mid 2023, in what must have been a particularly surreal day in some strange corner of my mind, I had some rather interesting ideas for a new artwork series.
The series of thumbnail sketches which ensued grew increasingly odd. Things growing out of skulls has long been one of my favourite subjects for art, as pieces such as 'Time Enough For the Earth in the Grave ...' probably suggest.
This time the concept was a little more literal. 

By the time my mind calmed down I was left with a series of frenzied scribblings of skulls and their new found fungal friends. Mushrooms growing from bone in a whole host of weird and wonderful ways. Erupting from eye sockets, clinging to femurs, blossoming from jawbones, creeping across cranium, nourished from fragments.
The whole idea of life springing from death, in the most literal, visually surprising way. 

And yet, the sinister twist of the series is that every fungus featured is poisonous. So the strange, unsettling message is infact 'death begets death'. But the meaning is only fully appreciated if you know your mushrooms of course!

The series is currently ongoing as ideas continue to take shape and a life of their own. And with no shortage of fungi to feature who knows when it will end ...

'Twilight Tales' - The creation of a concept

When Iacopo Meille asked me to collaborate with him on the cover of his first solo EP, the answer was, of course, an enthusiastic 'Yes!'
We began the process with me sending images of various past pieces of artwork to Iacopo for him to judge what kind of cover it might be possible for me to create, and potentially spark some ideas.
Quite quickly he identified a past piece which spoke to him and resonated with the songs and their atmosphere. 

This artwork was 'Strawberries and Cream', which was an interesting piece in particular for Iacopo to feel a connection to. I created the painting in 2020 during the pandemic as a reaction to a personal research project I had begun into English graveyards and their history. During the work visiting hundreds of churchyards and cemeteries I unexpectedly discovered in many of them, growing between the graves were; wild strawberries.

This sweet, unexpected sight was such an interesting juxtaposition between life and death that I went back to the studio and designed 'Strawberries and Cream'.

In a world where at the time in the midst of covid death had become a global fixation (thanks to oversaturation in the media), it was important to remember that life surrounds death.

For me, 'Strawberries and Cream' represented that even in the face of death there was beauty and hope, if you dared to look for it. And of course one of my favourite ideals; that from all death comes life.

At around the same time, over 1000 miles away, Iacopo was having his own creative reaction to the global situation and covids impact on his life. During this isolated time he began writing the songs that would form 'Twilight Tales'.
The idea of these two reactions to such an unprecedented, life changing event coming together was immediately appealing. Both created entirely independently, yet somehow echoed the same sentiments, like some sort of inexplicable fated union.

After working through the composition together and discussing important themes within the songs that should be featured on the cover it was decided that the basis for the artwork would largely be the original composition of  'Strawberries and Cream', but with some additions essential to the subjects of the songs. The theme of mortality in the original painting already captured the spirit of the songs, in particular 'Just Breathe', which with lyrics talking of 'piles of dust' you couldn't get a closer interpretation. But some small changes would truly tailor the painting to the songs in a way which they deserved.

The feather is one of the most important additions, inspired by 'Feather in the Sky'.
While other elements may be more subtle, they're just as integral to the identity of the piece. The Death Head Hawkmoth was chosen for obvious visual and symbolic reasons. The broken glass was requested by Iacopo, relating to 'Have You Read The News?' and was based on ancient Roman glass discovered at an archaeological site at Fiesole. 
Mushrooms were also a specific request, and one I'm always more than happy to feature in any work.
Ensuring all these components worked well together was essential and took considerable planning which was worth every ounce of deliberation.

Adding the title and ensuring it had the right amount of emphasis within the cover was a particularly tricky element. After much sketching and pondering, suddenly the perfect solution presented itself, as is often the case; quite unexpectedly.
Scrolls, parchment and crossed bones were all rejected in place of a single femur. The moment I saw the arrangement sketched out in full I knew it was a perfect fit and enhanced the composition way above 'Strawberries and Cream'.

When painting 'Twilight Tales' I placed particular pressure on myself to ensure that it was a big improvement on 'Strawberries and Cream'. I was driven by the idea of creating an embodiment of the music Iacopo had created, but also to create a superior artwork. I wanted 'Twilight Tales' to better 'Strawberries and Cream' in every way. Better colour representation, more accurate textures, finer details. I have always prided myself as an artist who wants to constantly improve and learn and this was finally my chance to prove myself.

I couldn't be more proud to have collaborated with Iacopo on this project and bringing to life a visual embodiment of his creation has been a total honour. This unlikely union of two different ways of coping with a global pandemic has fluidly formed a cohesive piece of expression which, in my opinion, is far better together than apart.
'Twilight Tales' is now available for streaming on all digital platforms
Spotify.  Youtube, Deezer.

Rollright Stones

For some time now I’ve wanted to visit the Rollright stones in Oxfordshire. Ive watched Documentaries on the stones, read about them and seen lots of photos, but I hadn’t yet had the chance to pay them a visit myself.
Because 2020 has been the strangest of years to say the least, there's lots I was planning to see and do that probably has little to no chance of happening this year.

However, not one to be easily defeated, the Rollright stones are in a reasonably comfortable driving distance to visit in a day (a 200 mile round trip for me). So, I decided seeing the stones was one goal I wasn’t willing to let slip away this year and headed down to Oxfordshire on a sunny August day to wander the Cotswolds and see these magnificent stones.

One of my main concerns (which led to hideous indecision right until the final moment when I jumped in the car) was how busy the stones might be, but my concerns weren’t met with too much horror when I arrived, and found only 4 people around the Kings men. During the few hours I spent at the stones, there was a steady flow of people coming and going. Seemingly most of them just passing by on the busy road running between the King Stone and the rest of the complex. Most appeared to just drop in for a brief look and head off again, it wasn’t until past midday when a huge group arrived with tables and chairs to have a picnic I decided it was time to move on as things were getting too busy for my liking.

The story of the stones echoes that of many stone circles in Britain. Living souls turned to stone in a series of dramatic events. Often dancing and merriment is involved, but on this occasion, a witch and a would be king falling foul of spells and supernatural form a truly fascinating spectacle.
The folklore which has grown up around Bronze Age and Pre-Historic sites is incredibly interesting and truly demonstrates their relevance and importance in society through the ages, even after their original religious and ritualistic meaning had been lost, they maintain a strong position within the community, and although their narrative may have changed over the centuries their significance has not diminished. 

As ever when I visit these sites I find myself filled with wonder. And leave with far more questions than answers. What took place here thousands of years ago? What did this site mean to the people who built it, and to the generations that followed? Bronze age Britain is my great historic passion and has been for many years. Partly because of the different and fascinating world that existed at that time, and partly because we will never know all of the secrets and mysteries of that ancient time. Only echos of this ancient past remain, some above ground, others below. Everything else is lost to time, eternally.

 

Morbitorium: A Museum of the weird, wonderful and downright bizarre

Nestled in the rolling hills of the Ebbw Valley, in deepest darkest South Wales lies a truly fascinating, and I'm sure to many thoroughly unexpected Museum, in the shape of 'Morbitorium'. 
This slice of suburbia has hidden within it a highly unusual gem, which few neighborhoods can boast. A museum and shop packed to the rafters with an overwhelming collection morbid and macabre curiosities. 

The unassuming stone cottage, situated in a typical enough Welsh village, has been thoroughly transformed into an immediately outrageous, spooky, kooky landmark. As ghosts trussed up in the front yard billow and bluster with the savage winds rolling in from the mountains and a sign adorned with a skull creaks and groans, I have no doubt I have indeed found the Museum.

I am given a warm welcome to the museum by owner Dave and one of his cats Pickles. It appears that Pickles failed to get the message from every other member of their species that I am reviled by their kind, and now holds an interesting record of the only cat in my time on this Earth to show me nothing but interest and affection (despite my poorly masked terror waiting for the inevitable strike, which shockingly never came).
Dave gave me a brief run down of the museum, explaining he and his partner Angharad had moved to this sleepy little town 8 years ago, initially buying the adjoining cottage as their home, then later when the end building went on sale, it was purchased and transformed into the museum and shop we see today.

The building of the museum has been, like all the best things in life are, a thoroughly organic process. Starting out simply as a shelf, this collection of curios has grown to an impressive size, and contains many fascinating and noteworthy pieces.

From important artifacts from medical history to Masonic regalia and everything in between, the museum houses something for everyone (if you're as abnormal as myself!).
My personal highlights on display were the wonderful items concerning Aleister Crowley. Crowley has long fascinated me and I am always thrilled to see pieces and places relating to his life and works (some how I never got round to writing a blog on my visit to the Abbey of Thelema in Cefalu). So to see these wonderful items, including Crowley's Thoth Tarot, a piece of Crowley's home Boleskine House (famously later purchased by Jimmy Page) and my absolute favorite; Crowley's death mask. Incredible. A real privilege to see such fine and important items on show.

One of the most wonderful displays at the museum is that of haunted Ouija boards, all of which have been gifted to the museum by folk who have clearly decided not to dabble any further. Everywhere the eye strays there is something new and interesting to see which ultimately is bound to spark a different emotive response in every single visitor. I peered in interest and curiosity at the display on house protection and mummified cats, while others may find it repugnant, and I confess a wry smile met my lips at the sight of a Rolf Harris annual, where others may have viewed it in the highest distaste. However taste is merely subjective and is clearly something Dave and Angharad are challenging, and enjoying playing with here.

Frankly the entire place is a real credit to its proprietors who have obviously put so much time, dedication and love into creating this carefully curated space. Every surface is packed full with so much, and covering so many topics, one could easily get lost in this place all day ...
One recurring theme within both the museum and shop is taxidermy. Dave himself actually teaches taxidermy classes, but also sells many specimens at the museum, from grandiose Ravens to simple skulls and mounted antlers. This very multifaceted place has so much to offer on so many levels.

The Morbitorium is a true testament to Dave and Angharad's obvious passion for the unusual. Their use of this compact but well concieved space to share with others this amazing collection of oddities, but also, incite in others wonder, interest, curiosity and perhaps even a passion of their own in a specific subject is to be applauded and celebrated utterly. There are few times in this world people take the brave decision to be truly different and stand out in their community. But it is clearly something which has been whole-heartedly embraced with the 'Morbitorium', and I for one wish to see a whole lot more of it in this world!

To check out the Morbitorium yourself, support this venture or plan your visit check out their website here!

Alice Durose

Kilpeck Church: A Romanesque Masterpiece

This year so far has been one entirely unlike any other in my life to date, as I finally became a home owner at the ripe age of 31. This systemic shift in circumstances means that life has changed in immeasurable ways in the last 6 months, and time has to be taken for things like renovating my Victorian cottage, and keeping my jungle of a garden under reasonable control (and not always succeeding entirely). But exploration and adventure are still my lifeblood, they’re just a little less frequent than in recent years.

One little adventure I was lucky enough to make time for this summer saw me travel to a land unknown to me, Herefordshire, for the first time. And while I was there I made sure to soak up as many sights as I could cram into a short trip.

One place I’ve always wanted to visit in the region is the church of Saint Mary and Saint David in Kilpeck. Anyone whose ever thumbed through a book on grotesques of England, or holds any interest in church architecture at all will doubtlessly have heard of Kilpeck and it’s many treasures. 

Over recent years I’ve had the name ‘Kilpeck’ haunt me repeatedly, in books researching tombs and memorials, in literature on green men, and most recently in online lockdown lectures given by the Churches Conservation Trust, particularly on ‘naughty bits’ on churches - namely the Sheela Na Gig. I decided this year it was finally time to visit this rich resource in the world of ecclesiastical carving and see just what all the fanfare was about for myself. 

After an initial false start from the satnav who actually took me to another church a stones throw away, I finally found the quaint, unassuming church just down the lane. 

Records date a church being on this site as far back as 650AD at least. Though conjecture suggests that the lie of the land, waterways and the unusual alignment of the building hint at a pre-christian past for this obviously important place. 

Much of the church we see today dates to around 1140, and ties in closely with the nearby Kilpeck Castle and its landed gentry. Thankfully unlike many ancient churches, Kilpeck has remained reasonably unspoiled by Victorian restoration, with many early features surviving, and in better condition than most.

The church itself is on no grandiose scale, or exceptionally exuberant, but the details and decoration here are absolutely everything. On approach to the building, unusual corbels line the walls, with animals and men peering down with menacing glee. 

The huge beasts which flank the south-west face were really rather breathtaking. In all the hundreds of churches I've visited across the country I've never encountered anything like them. Colossal gaping mouths with great curling tongues erupting from a cornerstone of celtic interlacing. It can be easily imagined that these giant leviathans incited fear, and awe in all those who saw them.

The real jewel in the crown at Kilpeck is the South door, which is the main entrance into the church itself. This incredible archway is without a doubt the most detailed, and imaginative Romanesque doorway I've ever seen. Previous fine examples Ive been lucky enough to visit (Tutbury and Melbourne being some of the most impressive) generally feature a more repetitive pattern of beasts and celtic knotwork, however the lack of symmetry at Kilpeck, and its many, rather overwhelming different elements have a very different effect.

The senses are somewhat overwhelmed by the huge number of different beasts and creatures on every single inch of stone. Sinuous, writhing monsters edge the archway, with their gaping mouths devouring decorated knots connecting a whole host of beasts and birds, finished either side with a fierce Hellmouth like head.
Below these are a huge range of curious creatures, some devouring themselves, some devouring eachother, others with great serpents erupting from their mouths. It truly is a frenzied scene of fascination and sinister strangeness! The lone angel in among all this chaos seems almost out of place in the scheme, but is likely there to remind the viewer to choose salvation over sin and temptation (generally the most accepted idea of what these carvings represent, though we will never truly know).

The motifs continue down the columns either side of the door, with serpents intertwined snaking down towards the ground, surrounded by organic looking knotwork, more birds and beasts, and the unusual addition of figures. These figures are often considered to be warriors, but like so many other elements of this incredible carving its true meaning will be forever a mystery (which I rather like).

One of my absolute favourite parts of the entire church is this fantastic Green Man. His bulging eyes stare out to the path while vines flow vigorously from his mouth. He has such a wonderful feeling of folk horror I could have studied him all day. Stylistically he seems closest to the central pediment, which has a slightly more folk art feel than many other parts of the doorway. This distinction between different styles suggest multiple masons worked on the entrance way, each bringing their own unique style and interpretation to their carvings.

There are a great many wonderful corbels to be seen around the entire exterior of the church. Sadly the whole of the rear side of the church was covered with scaffold, meaning almost half of these men and beasts were impossible to view on this occasion, however, Kilpecks arguably most famous resident was thankfully on full view in all her glory. The Sheela-na-gig of Kilpeck is one of the most famous still in existence. I always feel a wry smile creep on my face when I see the image of a woman gleefully opening her vulva on the exterior of a church. The whole concept just feels so surreal and bizarre it never ceases to make me smile. 

There are many theories about the meaning of the Sheela-na-gig. The last remnants of a pagan fertility deity, Mother earth, a protection against evil (that one makes me smile most of all), a warning against sins of the flesh. The latter seems logically most likely given the mindset at the time of its creation. Female sexuality was hugely repressed during this period, and the idea of this image representing female lust as hideous and corrupting certainly falls in line with the chruches ideology of the time.

Kilpeck church is an absolutely fascinating insight into early Welsh church building, but also into the folklore, mythology and mindset of the time. This tantalising glimpse into a strange past gives us some small idea of the world these border people were living in at the time full of fantastical creatures, superstition and magic. The sense of mystery and wonder created by places like Kilpeck and their craftsmen, always make me ponder on the minds of these master masons. Their rude little in jokes, their cheeky little additions, their creative expression, and smile.

The Wicker Man: A Horror Homage

As a long time horror fanatic and film collector, the genre has long moulded and shaped me as a person, and artist. The aesthetics, stories and cult status of the movies I love so much have an awful lot to answer for!
My favourite film of all time; The Wicker Man (1973), says a lot about my connection to and enthusiasm for the folk horror genre in particular. But also my wider love of pre-80s British horror in particular (Hammer, Tigon, Amicus, British Lion).

As a homage to my favourite movie I have done a few small artworks recently themed around The Wicker Man. These pieces were simply designed to celebrate my love for my favourite film and it’s glorious uniqueness.

One pays tribute to one of my favourite scenes, in which Christopher Lee draws from the Walt Whitman poem 'Song of myself', with his dulcet tones declaring ‘I think I could turn and live with animals ...’. I always felt that seeing the footage of snails entwined while Heather deflowers young Ash Buchanan to be a stroke of cinematic genius, so wanted to express my adoration in the only way I know, through an artwork. I also feel the sentiment rings so true with me personally, as I seem to find myself often feeling I have much more in common with animals than humans, and increasingly so.

The second I created to celebrate May Day with the iconic Wicker Man sun face featured numerous times in the film. Initially I intended to create the piece as a dip pen work to practice my technique, however after discovering my remaining waterproof black ink had become a gloopy mass too thick to use I had to revert to using pigment liners (which in hindsight is probably the only way I could get the level of control and detail needed for the piece.)

I find creating these artworks, just for me and to express my passion and adoration for what I consider to be the pinnacle of British cinema, a near meditative practice. It is my own unique way to honour something that has become an integral part of me and shaped me for who I am from my first viewing almost 20 years ago. A heathen conceivably, but not I hope an unenlightened one ...