Tag Archives: Saxons

Traces of the past

Above: Trace. Blackwater. Oil on 80x80cm canvas. Rose Strang 2023

Traces of past cultures in landscape have fascinated me for many years. Especially those traces so subtle you’d walk past, barely noticing them. Expressing this subtlety in paint is a challenge.

While painting a series in 2018 titled ‘Wells of Arthur’s Seat’ I started to find a way. There are literal traces, like the trace of a chain on the boulder near St Anthony’s Well which was originally attached to a metal cup above a carved stone basin. The spring has long since dried up, but as late as the early 20th century people from Edinburgh would sip the water, or soak cloth in the water then apply it to their body in the belief it cured disease or imbalance.

I don’t want to paint literal traces, however, and while exploring the history of St Anthony’s Well I became immersed in the mystery of water. Its layers, veils and reflections suggested timelessness, ‘as above so below’, or the idea of liminal or in-between places.

Painting ripples left by, for example, a falling twig, reminded me of pre-historic concentric rings carved into rocks around the British Isles. No one knows why those carvings were created, but to me they suggested ever multiplying rings created by cause and effect – a falling leaf that creates a pulse of water, shifting tectonic plates that create the huge pulse of a tsunami, or the mystery of gravity and the orbiting planets and moons of our solar system.

When I visited Saxon burial mounds at Sutton Hoo in Suffolk it wasn’t the mounds themselves I wanted to paint, it was the river that led to the mounds – the River Deben. I painted reflections on the river and the wake left by a passing boat – to me the flowing river brought that past culture to life more than the burial mounds. Cultures change and become strange or indecipherable but a boat’s wake remains the same. I could envisage their arrival from northern Europe to the Suffolk coast up the River Deben, imagining what made them settle here and select this particular spot as as a sacred burial ground.

Then the process of painting the layers of water was so complex in itself – there is translucency and opacity, reflections, the rhythm of flowing water and the fact of constant movement and change. I was also thinking of the fact that nature was at the heart of Saxon culture and religion. For example the tree of life – Yggdrasil – which encompasses many different worlds. Each of the tree’s three roots is fed by three different wells representing past, present and future.

These myths reflect a truth – that everything is connected. Our recent past, encompassing the industrial revolution and unprecedented consumption of resources, has taken us full circle back to this realisation of inter-connectedness, and the dilemma of how to move forward. Our culture will leave more trace than any that came before us.

At Loch Venachar in the Central Highlands of Scotland, I searched for the remains of a Crannog (iron-age man-made islands on which wooden dwelling structures were built). The island itself was visible, but sadly concrete had been poured onto the remants, probably to prevent it being washed away. Again, literal remnants didn’t move me so much as the trace of stones leading to the island – just the merest suggestion that in this area at the loch’s edge the stones were just a little raised. Gazing at the stones as dawn rose, rays of sunlight began to reveal the stones beneath the surface, while further away the surface remained opaque. These half-revealed images suggested more to the imagination.

Loch Venachar is fed by the Blackwater River and as we explored further along the river side, I found myself mesmerised by the reflected green/yellow light of foliage in the black water, still as a mirror, which brought to mind Corinthians 13:12:

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

These ideas are complicated to express creatively in an image. Or not so complicated when simply observing what’s there; traces on water – concentric circles, ripples, what’s revealed below, or concealed from view, what is mirrored back to us. Although we can’t know all, we do know that all is connected. When contemplating nature these images become poetic and profound.

This series of three paintings – Trace. Sutton Hoo, Trace, Portnellan Island, Loch Venachar and Trace, Blackwater, will be on show as part of the exhibition Borrowed Land, which launches at The Kilmorack Gallery on the 18th November 2023.

‘Trace. Blackwater’. Oil on 80x80cm canvas. Rose Strang 2023

Exhibition – Sutton Hoo and Suffolk

Below – some in-situ photos of the Sutton Hoo and Suffolk series at the Limetree Long Melford Gallery (link here for any enquiries about the paintings – Limetree Contact )

This series was painted after exploring the landscape that surrounds the Sutton Hoo burial mounds in Suffolk this year, where treasure and other evidence of 6th century Saxon culture was discovered in the 1930s.

(I explored a bit about the mounds and Saxon spiritual beliefs in previous blogs – Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4.)

I’ve been reading the author Robert MacFarlane’s book Underland recently, in which he explores the world’s ‘underlands’ – catacombs underneath Paris for example, or natural limestone caves. Places where people buried their loved ones thousands of years ago, or painted mysterious human figures in places such as the sea-lashed caves of Kollhellaren (‘translates roughly as ‘hole of hell’) in Norway.

He explores the place these underground spaces have in imagination and in our psyche. Also not just culturally, emotionally and spiritually, but physically too. Among many impressions, I’m struck by the fact that for such a modest and gentle looking human being he clearly has nerves of steel! The descriptions of squeezing his way into narrow funnels deep in the earth are quite claustrophobia-inducing though un-put-downable.

The book was a meaningful accompaniment to my paintings, inspiring me to speculate on the way those Saxon leaders carefully buried their people – with such reverence and care. It tells us much about what mattered to their society back in the 6th century. Their emotions and physical appearance will have been much the same as ours, but as leaders their motivations were very different. They honoured landscape because they saw much of it as sacred – believing that gods or goddesses resided in aspects of nature. They wanted to leave the land intact with little trace of human dwelling – for example they built their houses from materials such as wood and grass that wouldn’t remain after time.

Their religious beliefs came to be seen as wrong – as pagan, barbarian and separate from worship of the one God of Christianity. From our perspective now though, it’s clear that whatever our beliefs, much of our landscape has been irreperably destroyed, which is at odds with the Christian ideal that we tend the flora and fauna of this world. Robert MacFarlane describes disappearing glacial landscapes and the complex ways that vast amounts of spent nuclear waste must be buried. These are issues familar to all of us, but never told as compellingly. As he describes; our age – now called The Anthropocene – will leave a legacy like no other. Contemplating these thoughts inspired me to paint ‘Trace’ – the largest painting of the Sutton Hoo series (below).

In the next month I’ll be travelling to the island of Iona, then Kilmartin Glen on the west coast of Scotland. Water will be the linking theme for an upcoming series. The new series might relate or add to the themes and problems being explored at this year’s Cop26 climate-change conference to be held in Glasgow.

More on that in the next few weeks!

Sutton Hoo Series. Trace. Oil on 27.5 x 27.5 canvas. Rose Strang 2021