Category: Musings

Cooland

Post author By Katie Anderson
Post date July 17, 2015

From Matt Baker

When the Earth’s crust thickened and cooled deeply, it cracked, and four avenues dropped neatly in lines: four invitations for four rivers—Annan, Nith, Dee, and Cree. Water, washing soil over the rock, posted another invitation—for a beast to graze the land, to break it with footprints for germinating seeds, and to re-fertilise it with their dung.

We know the coos, slabbed together on a cold, damp morning, their breath hanging together like the breath of the Earth; or contented and dispersed across a summer field, chewing in deep rhythm. We know them as part of the oneness of our place.

Our land is pastureland, home to a kinship between humankind and cookind that has spawned a million inventions with milk, meat, and leather.

Our coos have been our wealth—their mobility precious in times when you couldn’t hide a field of barley from ancient raiders. Always moving from winter to summer pastures, and to market over Annan, Nith, Dee, and Cree.

Humans moved too. In tough times, we spread far across the seas, and as migrants found their feet, they called for their coos to follow. Great Uncle Jimmy raised Shorthorn cattle in Wigtownshire to send on boats to the Argentine. The canny exiles sent us meat home in cans. Corned beef is still the favourite food of one of Jimmy’s daughters, and the other drank unpasteurised milk straight from the farm all her days.

We are Nithraid, and this land is where we bide; so we race the tide up our river to release the salty spirit of Coo.

Nithraid was conceived as a public artwork to activate the riverside in Dumfries during the summer of 2013, bringing new focus and drawing people down to celebrate the River Nith. Now in its third year, Dumfries is preparing to welcome sailors upriver to the heart of the town as Nithraid 2015 sails into town on Sunday, 2nd August. Nithraid is free and open to all, and last year saw crowds of 4,000 lining the banks to watch the winning boats cross the finish line. Find out more about this year’s Nithraid here.

The discussion is open, and we invite contributions to our artistic conversations. Whether you have been involved in Nithraid in previous years, are interested in the changing face of public art, or are curious about how a sailing race can also be an artwork, please get in touch via the comments box below. Alternatively, to send your contribution, please email [email protected].

Tags 2015, Festival, Nithraid, Nithraid Poetry, Reflections, River Festival, River Nith, Salty Coo, Writing

Musings

The Land of the Salt Cow

Post author By Katie Anderson
Post date July 16, 2015

From Tom Pow

The Land of the Salt Cow

THE OLD MEN TAKE THE SALT COW DOWN TO THE RIVER TO DRINK.

THE OLD WOMEN REMEMBER WHEN THE FIELDS WERE FULL OF SALT COWS.

THE YOUNG GIRLS WATCH AS THE BOYS LEAP OVER THE BACK OF THE SALT COW.

THE YOUNG MEN SADDLE THEIR SALT COWS IN PREPARATION FOR WAR.

THESE THINGS BEING SO, CAESAR SET OUT FOR THE LAND OF THE SALT COW.

Senes vaccam salsam ad flumen ut bibat ducent.

Aniculae quando vaccae salsae agros olim operiebant recordantur.

Puellae pueros qui super salsam vaccam salient vident.

Iuvenes parati bellum suscipere vaccas salsas sternent.

Caesar his rebus factis ad terram ubi vacca salsa habitat discessit.

Tags 2015, Festival, Nithraid, Nithraid Poetry, Poetry, Reflections, River Festival, River Nith, Salty Coo, Word, Writing

Musings News

Vacca

Post author By Katie Anderson
Post date July 10, 2015

From Mark Zygadlo

Vacca! The strange case of the lost locative. The Cow, subject and object as symbol. After Bonum, and Beckett (ablative, or is it genitive?)

Vacca, (the)Cow nominative,
Vacca, Oh, Cow, vocative,
Vaccam, you cow, accusative,
Vaccae, of (the)cow, genitive,
Vaccae, to or for (the)cow, dative,
Vacca, by, with, from, or in (the) cow, ablative

Remember that? Of course, it would have been Mensa, table, when we of a certain generation of the modern era were learning the first declensions; female gender singular. The Latin primer, being an expression of the late classical form, omitted the locative case of colloquial or early Latin. Ah, that hushed and subtle tongue.

Oh, the locative, (vocative case, denoted by Oh… as in: Oh, Caesar… or an exclamation mark, as in: Christ! Look at the time…) the locative! It must not be forgotten for it describes the rightness of place and the infinite distance of one location from another. It was reserved for speaking of small islands alone in the Mediterranean; no archipelagoes here, no chains of thought, no Peloponnese or Balearics, no reefs, no connections to the mainland by causeways impassable at high tide, or bridges or small ferry boats. No, and no barren rocks.

The locative speaks of being separate, of being appropriately self-contained, and it can refer to being in the earth, to death and burial, that is, to humiliation. Or, to being at home, at the hearth, focum, foc, and being in the field or fields, when that had some meaning. Specific, you see, to a state of being in place, self-sufficient, separate, discrete. If they had thought of it then, on line, on the net, would be a perfect locative; in a state of separateness described by the place—the net.

Being in a State of Grace? The Cow’s case: (genitive surely; the case of the Salted Cow, but…) Our cow’s argument is locative.

Oh, Locative, (vocative) You obsolete case; you last fragile threads of pre-classical illumination, Be exhumed in this ritual

And roar your bovine craving at us for the case we are losing from the locative field. But, pitiless grammar will not bring the bull. You shall die fallow, unfertilized In the shallows.

Cleave then, oh beast, With your split hoof and state your case, Standing up to your classical canons in it. After all, This is the sharp season of your atomized shit. Homunculus eyes focus on a darker green field. Yes, pump it out, boys. More shit, more grass, more beef, more milk, more shit, more grass, More gas, yes. More, more, more. That is our locus, our focum vivendi, our domicile, And we are such classical agrarians. It is the locative case of Shit.

Cow! (Vocative) You are sacrificial, you see? To the modus, (modo, to or for the way, dative case) to the modus, While the grammar of thought, the rules of understanding Are wiping this island from the charts. But some pre-classical urge, some visceral memory knows An identical ritual killing takes me too. Letting go so much for the sake of so it is a sacrifice alright, And we, in our improved datives, are sensible of thy gift, oh Cow, And preserve thee, black and leathery, from a hook somewhere We can no longer quite describe.

Salt beef, my life. Oh, holy shit.

Salt beef at Blum’s on the Whitechapel Road, And the long walk home through the pre-classical period When we were emergent, Or what passed for young, and understood where we were. But Blum’s, oh my dears, is gone. It was, not is And in its place, I leave my dybbuk. For we too are ephemera, Singing our hearts out In the locative case.

Tags 2015, Dumfries, Festival, Nithraid, Nithraid Poetry, Poetry, River Festival, River Nith, Salty Coo, Writing

Musings

Poem Thing.

Post author By Katie Anderson
Post date July 6, 2015

From Stan Bonnar

Poem Thing.

Here it is—informal, but from the heart of me.

This is what I’m thinking: we must not lose the deep meaning of Nithraid. After all, we sweated blood to get this far. We must affirm Nithraid in the flow of world art with every action. That is our responsibility to art and to people.

The main point, of course, is to show Dumfries to the wide world as a place where things are happening. But if we are to show the art world that socially engaged public art is the way to go, then we must show them that we have resolved the problem of the redundant art object.

Here it is: the cow, the cow delivery system, the Nith, the we the people, the thing of things!

What are we saying?

We are saying that this cow thing is alive and well and living in Dumfries!

It was once a linguistic object, but here and now, it is a liberated thing.

The reason it’s liberated is because we gave the art object the voice of a thing, and that thing is everything!

The Dumfries Nithraid cow is the thing of our imagining.

It is what we are and always were.

We are the Nithraid thing.

Nithraid is the liberation of the object once known as ‘cow’.

First, we cover it in salt because salt imbues and confirms the cow as a once-object standing in reserve of our existence (for our use as required).

But then, as the cow sinks into the River Nith, we, the people, sing a mooing song... moo... moo... moo...

The salt is washed away to reveal the new, precious thing in the context of things. And this act deconstructs and disrupts the limitations of our own object-centric thinking.

The discussion is open, and we invite contributions to our artistic conversations—whether you have been involved in Nithraid in previous years, are interested in the changing face of public art, or are curious about how a sailing race can also be an artwork, please get in touch via the comments box below. Alternatively, to send your contribution, please email [email protected].

Tags 2015, Dumfries, Festival, Guest Blog, Nithraid, Nithraid Poetry, Poetry, River Festival, River Nith, Salty Coo, Word, Writing

Musings News Project Updates

Reclaim The High Street – Sign Language

Post author By Katie Anderson
Post date June 9, 2015

It’s interesting how obsessions grow. A current obsession is for signs—hand-painted and homegrown. We’ve been holding onto our sign-free frontage: The Stove, now under new management, is becoming a growing, changing space in the town.

The face of our high streets and their signage has, of course, changed dramatically with the introduction of mass-produced, nationwide branding. The loss of independent retailers has also transformed the landscape and language of our streets.

Even RS McColl’s had nice signs at one point! (Look closely)

Also appearing in our social media stream this week is the phenomenon of ‘ghost-signs‘: the remnants of old signs, shops, businesses, and brands—gone and almost forgotten within our urban landscapes. At first, we couldn’t identify too many in the Dumfries-scape, but upon closer inspection, we are starting to notice them cropping up around town.

This one on Buccleuch Street—double-layered signs? Does anyone have any idea what these signs may have been, or know of any other good sites around the town? If so, please get in touch!

Where are we going with this? That, of course, is all to be revealed. Guid Nychburris Day is fast approaching, and over the next week, the town will be gearing up for the annual festivities on the 20th of June.

We will be holding a hands-on, sign-themed event and workshop during our first Saturday Drop-In. Drop by between 12 noon and 4 pm on Guid Nychburris Day and get involved! It will be suitable for all ages and abilities, and participation is free.

Tags 100 High Street, 2015, Dumfries, Guid Nychburris, Open House

Musings News Project Updates

Beyond Doubt Into Love

Post author By Katie Anderson
Post date June 1, 2015

What would Dumfries say?

Sometimes things start small.

Whilst working with the Young Stove to imagine what The Stove could become, this thought arose: The Stove would undoubtedly have quite a lot to say. But what about the rest of the town? If the old buildings in Dumfries could speak, what stories would they tell?

If the old brig would speak, what stories would it tell?

Would it shout loud, or whisper quietly to a neighbour? We thought it best to ask around.

Responses are flooding in, and orange speech bubbles are floating around town. (What would Rabbie say, sitting with his view of the High Street?) Which places have the loudest voices? Voices began to pour in thick and fast, helped along by Herald Moxie and a band of merry Young Stovies.

Want to see more speech bubbles? A selection is available here.

Which speech bubbles could we stand up for? Which voices could we wear?

There comes a time when it is wise to call in an expert. Our expert on hand was the talented and patient printmaker and artist, Sarah Keast. An island of calm amidst the apparent chaos, The Stove was like a ship sailing through a wild afternoon of frenzied T-shirt printing.

And still, we printed on. We ran out of T-shirts, made a quick T-shirt run, printed more T-shirts, and ran out of ink before the afternoon was through—printing nearly 140 T-shirts in just four hours. The Young Stove proved themselves to be an unstoppable tide of creative energy.

Beyond Doubt Into Love may well be a T-shirt for a moment in time. One thing’s for sure: they are a rare and precious commodity, created by our community. If anyone has a large men’s in neon pink, we’ve had a request for one.

This is less of an end and more of a beginning—keep an eye out for speech bubbles. Once you start noticing them, they tend to pop up all over the place…

#GetDumfriesTalking

Tags 2015, Community Art, Conversation, Dumfries, Open House, Reflections, Young Stove

Latest News

Funders