five walls at the Hatton (with Kate)

five walls at the Hatton (with Kate)

 

“Yes, I was very ill again, I am becoming

thinner and thinner, but my spirit cannot be crushed.

I work every minute that I’m able to.

My Merz Barn is better and more consistent

than anything I have done before.”                             (Kurt Schwitters, 1947)

 

Lichtenstein at the Hatton,

Newcastle on Tyne

the public flocked,

grateful to see, up close, 

the works of an eminence -

free entrance

 

art born of comic illustrations?

gold spun from straw?

truth to tell, 

anything but -

 

on the wall beside each frame,

weighty explanations of

the artist’s inspiration,

his method, his motivation,

(wealth and celebrity - never a factor) 

generated by wordsmiths

to add gravitas to

 

four walls of mediocrity about which

we kept our comments

sotto-voce,

 

until I could take no more,

 

‘Kate, I’ve had enough – let’s get out of here’

 

we stepped from walls of banality

into a cool empty room

saturated with art -

 

‘true’ art, forged from suffering

art to the death – literally

 

an installation few were drawn to view;

the final work of a refugee 

hounded for degeneracy,

 

I could taste the mildew,

the ice-damp, the chill

of the weathered stone-slate cowshed wall

and catch Schwitters reviling 

his death fast approaching,

 

the Merzbarn, Elterwater, 

the last word on 'futility’

 

Schwitters wrote in a letter

to estranged wife, Helma, 

 

‘wherever you go, carry joy’

 

ecstasy

          agony

                   carry the joy