Lucy Branch's Blog

On occasion, I think about a place in time which I call, OneDay. It's a destination where I have limitless time to read and fill my cup with art. Don’t get me wrong, I love the busy days that I live right now: preserving sculpture and interesting features on buildings and writing novelsset in the art world. But one day, I will have more time to take trips to far off places that are home to monumental sculptures that I long to see.Contemplating OneDay made me pause and consider why I'm drawn particularly to large sculpture and why they keep getting bigger. I thought about one of my favourite bronze giants, The Lovers, at St Pancras station. This is one I’ve never worked on but hope to, as it makes my heart sing every time I look at it, and not just because its made with my favourite metal.The Tate debated the remarkable human urge to keep building bigger and more monumental structures a while back. They referenced the human need to distinguish locations siting Stonehenge, the Pyramids alongside Anish Kapoor’s Orbital.I can understand this, but struggle to feel the truth of it when I look at something large like Gormley's, Angel of The North.Maybe it's because my mind doesn't work in a linear way, but rather than feel these creations mark the spot, I am transported away from THE SPOT. My sense of place is lost. The larger they are, the more they dominate the world I stand in so that, for an instant, I am there no more. But, unlike with fiction or films, they don’t draw the whole story out for me: they suggest, they hint. They reference another place, another dimension, that they have fallen out of - from a place like, OneDay.This month sees the arrival of the UK’s biggest sculpture - The giant statue of a crouching female in front of Theatre Royal Plymouth by Josepth Hillier. Reading an interview about it in the Plymouth Herald the Theatre Royals Chief exec said that it’s about showing their city’s ambition. It reminded me of the quote by Herb Caen, San Francisco Columnist who said “A city is not gauged by its length and width, but by the broadness of its vision and the height of its dreams”This comment resonates more with me. A huge sculpture is enviably ambitious. The technology involved in casting and assembling alone is so vast it's awe inspiring. Seeing an idea which begins as such a little thing grow into a vast structure sends a creative challenge out into the world: create big dreams and make them happen. They are the ultimate motivational leader.Certainly, that’s what I felt when I first saw the gargantuan surfaces of Richard Serra's sculptures in Bilbao some years ago. Some say brutalist, I say beautiful. Those vast, rusty shavings made my little old heart go, pitter-patter, and from that moment I knew his sculpture would have to feature in my next book. Its presence was the gunpowder in my plot line.I have no doubt that sculptures will rise higher than Plymouth’s, crouching girl, Messenger, and I leave off here with a slightly ethereal thought. Like steeples that grew taller through the centuries, pointing up to the Almighty, maybe sculpture grows too for a similar reason. In a world with so many challenges, we need something big to break through these difficulties and speak to our souls. In the words of the actress, Sellar Adler, “Life beats down and crushes the soul and art reminds you that you have one.”

When I first saw Jim Whelan's magnificent bronze monument, Futility, words from, Margaret Macmillan's recent Reith Lecture, echoed in my mind. She spoke on the subject of the paradox that things of great beauty come out of an attempt to deal with war.She said, "It’s curious, I think, that not all wars seem to produce the same level of artistic engagement. The First World War, it seems to me, produced much greater literature, much greater poetry, much greater questioning of the meaning of war than did the Second World War, and that may be because the Second World War, at least for those of us on the allied side, was much clearer: it was a war that we felt had to be fought; whereas the First World War increasingly we came to think was a war that perhaps should not have been fought."This sculpture manages to make visual that waste of human life. Defeated by the pointlessness of his circumstances, the baseness of this soldier's position on the floor is particularly eloquent. There is nowhere lower that this man can go. All thought of portraying bravery and fight are absent here: his legs thrust out, he balls forward weeping into them. He is unlike the brave and sombre portrayals of other figurative war memorials, making this one - unforgettable.Not only is this soldier an everyman, but it commemorates the loss of a great poet, Wilfred Owens, on the 100th anniversary of his death. The poet died during active service, just a week before the war's end. Owen's poem, Futility, inspired the sculpture. It is a softer poem than many of his more anger-filled examples, but no less forceful with its truth.The origins of this bronze intrigued me. I cannot recall another bronze war memorial that hails from a poem. Poetry is very close to my heart - it's the place I go to in quiet moments. Though no great expert, I am familiar enough with the genre to make the connection if I had come ever across another memorial like it during my working days. I could recall paintings that were inspired by literature and poetry - Sir John Everett Millais, Ophelia, from Shakespear's Hamlet and John William Waterhouse, The Lady of Shalott, based on Tennyson's poem, but not outdoor sculpture. This may be because the history of commemorative bronze stems from people rather than concepts. . Sculpture inspiresmy own fiction and without it there would be no stories I could tell. It is, perhaps, for that reason that the idea of poetry giving birth to a sculpture seems perfectly natural to me. I look on with great hope and anticipation that different mediums of art will continue to blend with war memorials in the future. I envisage myself as the doting godmother of many more bronze monuments with poetic and commemorative parentage.For those that don't know the little poem that inspired the monument: . Futility By Wilfred Owen Move him into the sun— Gently its touch awoke him once, At home, whispering of fields half-sown. Always it woke him, even in France, Until this morning and this snow. If anything might rouse him now The kind old sun will know. Think how it wakes the seeds— Woke once the clays of a cold star. Are limbs, so dear-achieved, are sides Full-nerved, still warm, too hard to stir? Was it for this the clay grew tall? —O what made fatuous sunbeams toil To break earth's sleep at all?Particular thanks are given to Chris at Hidden Liverpool who kindly granted permission to use his photograph

Magical Realism and migraine may not be obvious partners to some, but they seem a natural fit to me. Migraine has been muscling in on my life since I was old enough to toddle, so why wouldn’t it show up as a principle player in my latest novel, Girl In A Golden Cage? Both my mother and husband have had lifelong battles with migraine.  I’ve only been a bystander, but the condition is so familiar that it had to have its own story.  My main character, Francesca, hears screaming in her father’s hallway. Screaming so terrible, she’s sure that someone is being murdered, but she can’t get up to investigate. She’s nine hours into a migraine that began with aura symptoms, and matures into the kind of pain that should only be reserved for the dentist chair with no anaesthetic.As a child, I viewed migraines as a quasi-bogeyman. They scared me. Completely unseen, they had the power to reduce the strongest pillar of my life, my mum, into a quivering wreck. Driving, she might pull off the road with an emergency-stop-suddenness and lay her head on the wheel saying, ‘I can’t see.’ It was the dazzling symptoms that caught my imagination early on. Where had her sight gone to? Was she seeing something else?In the novel, Francesca is staying with her father in Milan, and it’s here that she sees her dazzling symptoms begin to morph. This enables her to witness something she wishes she hadn’t, involving her father, but can she rely on her own testimony when her symptoms are so out of control?For my husband, who seldom has weeks without migraines, strain in its many forms often tips the balance. He tries to negotiate life avoiding invisible stress-mines that could trigger the next blast, but of course, that’s impossible.Secrets are always potions of stress; they make the mind swirl. I wanted to show how Francesca’s determination to seek the truth is complicated by her symptoms, and how hard it is to stay on track when tension makes tipping over the edge that much more likely.I’ve worked for years in the art world and that’s why I couldn’t help bringing an aspect of that into the story too. I came across an Anthony Gormley sculpture, Feeling Material IX,  many years ago. The minute I saw it, it seemed to me a perfect piece of migraine art.  Made only with wire, it’s form is so simple and yet the outer chaos seems to represent what’s going on inside the figure’s head. When I was beginning to draft ideas for the book, I knew that this statue had to be a central symbol.Francesca is an artist. She has the kind of gift with a pencil that most of us can only wonder about. I wanted her to be creative: to have a mind that might be malleable enough to show her a place that teeters on the brink of possibility. The idea that there could be a way to slip the grip of migraine seemed a seductive plot line.Fiction is one of the few ways others can experience someone else’s perspective. I haven’t had to endure the frightful pain of migraine, but I’ve been a close observer of the condition for so long that I feel I’m equipped to draw its likeness, and as all writers do, take a few creative liberties with the subject matter.Girl In A Golden Cageby Lucy Branch is out in Kindle £3.99 and Paperback £7.99 from Amazon 

Magical realismis a fusion between the real and the fantastic. It is set in our own world, unlike the traditional fantasy genre, and plays with the boundaries of commonplace subjects by introducing a dusting of magic. Here are my reasons why  I adore this contradictory genre both to read and to write.1: Any genre that is embraced by masters likeGarbriel Garcia Marquez(One Hundred Years of Solitude) &Laura Esquivel(Like Water for Chocolate) has to be good.2: It takes the ordinary and makes it extraordinary.It’s the equivalent of watching an illusionist: it takes something you assume you know and shows you something you definitely didn’t expect and if it’s done well, you will never forget it.3:It allows authors to bend the rules just a little.  This means you can write about what you know or love in this world and then just take it one step further.4: It takes you out of yourself. Like fantasy, magical realism allows for grand escapism but the familiar parameters of our own world means thatit’s less difficult to suspend disbelief and surrender yourself to the delicious possibility that it could be true.5:It challenges accepted perspectives by offering an alternative to the rational.Magical realism books test the status quo by giving alternatives and an author has to make those alternatives plausible otherwise the story will not stand up.6: It’s such a pleasure to write. Imagining something just outside of the usual is a wonderful place to be. It’s like being in a dream-world where anything is possible without the awful kamikaze aspect where you can’t influence the outcome.7:It’s about our world.There are so many non-fiction topics that can be brought to a new audience with magical realism novels. Areas that may seem dry and unappealing in their true form become spell-binding when written in this mode.8:It can be so beautiful:“He really had been through death, but he had returned because he could not bear the solitude.” (taken from One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez.)9: A writer of magical realism never forgets the realism is as important as the magic. “It was as if they were rejecting that stuffed pepper, which contains every imaginable flavour; sweetest candied citron, juiciest pomegranate with a bit of pepper and the subtlety of walnuts, that marvellous chilli and the walnut sauce.” (taken from Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel)10: Because many titles in the genre have made hugely successful films like Chocolat, Life of Pi, The Time Travellers Wife to name a few. Magical realism succeeds outside of the written word becauseit is a genre that was originally derived from fine art and so translates easily back into the medium of the visual.

Q: Tell us about the Skendleby SeriesI’ve always enjoyed ghost stories and supernatural thrillers particularly those set in a fairly mundane, but well researched  setting, which scare through a slow build up and atmosphere rather than through jump scares and slashing There didn’t seem to be many on the market so I set out to write one that I would enjoy reading. The starting point was a mixture of archaeology, my background, and a couple of strange things I experienced which I’ve never fully understood. It begins with the old horror trope of archaeologists digging up something better left undisturbed.Q: Was there a particular part of the new book that you enjoyed writing?I particularly enjoyed the development of the characters in Greenman Resurrection and having lived with them for so long, I found some of the paths they took quite emotional to write. Plus the introduction of a new character who  I think, gives the series a new dimension. I liked the ending which I think brought the series round full circle.Q: This series has been well receives so much so a film is on the cards - what do you think made these books so popular?The fact that there was interest in making a film was a surprise to me. When Skendleby was being written it aroused very little interest and had been out nearly three years before it began to sell. I think that the reason readers have gone on to read the other books in the series is that the people inhabiting the books are largely weak and flawed, like me, but manage to strive for redemption through being tested. I think readers like the slow build up of dread and ancient horror, with a bit of humour and comment thrown in. I used bits of the books as a cathartic reaction to some things I’d experienced so maybe that’s where the real horror came from. I never expected to be approached by an American film producer saying he loved the books and wanted to make a filmA bit about Nick:Nick Brownstarted as an archaeologist, which to earn enough to live, I mixed with teaching. I was unlucky enough to become involved with a school based racial murder and its aftermath and acquired an unwanted reputation for coping in the field which, via another murder and the subsequent riots ended up with me opening a very large multi -racial sixth form college in a segregated and volatile town. I was appointed OBE for this. The idea of the books kept me going during this so when the college was fully established and successful (19 years later) I left to become a writer. I’m married with three sons and live in a house which may well be haunted.GREENMAN RESURRECTION & THE OTHER BOOKS IN THE SERIES ARE AVAILBABLE NOW THROUGH: CLICK THE LINKS FOR YOUR STOREhttps://www.amazon.co.uk/Nick-Brown/e...

Visitors to London often head indoors when they want to see some famous art, The National Gallery and the Tate are the go-to places that every tourist has on their lists, but when time is precious, it’s really easy to multi-task in London. Some of the cultural hotspots and de-rigueur shopping is surrounded by work created by the finest artists in the world in the form of public sculpture.  It’s just about knowing where to look.If you are visiting Trafalgar Square, then take the time to walk a few yards further and visit Charles I. Located at the top of Whitehall in the shadow of Nelson’s Column is a classical-style sculpture of the king on horseback. This statue was created by a magnificent artist and craftsman, Hubert Le Sueur, who has work in the finest collections in the world.This statue is worth seeing to consider that even sculpture can have a tumultuous life. It began with a great fanfare as it was the first large-scale bronze monument made in this country in 1633.  Its manufacture not only flattered the king, but also represented Britain’s growing capabilities in engineering to the rest of the world.Unfortunately, Charles I was not to remain in favour and after his bloody beheading at The Banqueting House, the statue was sold for scrap. Thankfully, a savvy businessman saw an opportunity. Hacking off the lower section of the foreleg, he took it to Parliament to prove the sculptures destruction. In fact, he buried the statue with a thought to the future that times might change again.  When Charles II came to the throne, the sculpture was dug up and dusted off and carried on a cart through the centre of London. The scrap dealer was paid again and even the decapitated leg was re-joined.If you are visiting The Houses of Parliament, I urge you to walk down from Charles I via Whitehall. On the way, take a left along Whitehall Place where you’ll find a sculpture to really lift the human spirit:  The Royal Tank Regiment by Vivian Mallock. Her magnificent contemporary sculpture created with such eloquence shows a glimpse of the camaraderie between the men that worked together to help win the war, from inside the cramped Comet tanks, in World War II.After the Houses of Parliament, don’t hurry away. There’s a fine view of London along the river on the corner of Westminster Bridge, and you'll find the fine form of Boadicea and her daughters. This Victorian sculpture commemorating a classical warrior is magnificent in its execution. Thorneycroft, who visitors flock to see inside the Tate Britain, does not let his audience down. His horses are wild and rearing, his women are fearless and strong. This distinguished sculptor was not paid for this incredible statue and taking umbrage, he decided not to part with it. His son eventually donated it to the council after his death – what else could you do with such a colossus?This sculpture not only represents Boadicea's bravery, but also symbolised a desire for Britain to connect itself with a classical past, which was a Victorian obsession. The representation of a woman in public sculpture, even today, is rare which makes this piece of art even more significant. In fact, Boadicea was designed with a nod to Queen Victoria, who this part of the embankment was named after. The suggestion was that Queen Victoria was leading the country and the Commonwealth as Boadicea led her army.If you are taking a trip on The London Eye,the County Hall building just behind it overlooks the water on the south of the river.  On the corner of the bridge is the majestic Lion that is worth taking note of. Perhaps, this chap seems nothing special in sculptural terms but the formula used to make him was lost for nearly two hundred years. He is not a common stone as he might at first seem, but made from Coade stone, one of the first synthetic stones. The reason for its significance, in particular, is that it is highly robust to weathering and the urban environment and stays clean against all odds.If you are shopping in Covent Garden, don't forget to visit Degas’ Little Dancer. Opposite the Royal Opera house, sitting on a stool, tying her shoe is a divinely slender sculpture. A humble image of a quiet moment before a performance, this small piece of art on pavement level is just as charming as any of his statues in The Musee d’Orsay or Metropolitan Museum, NY.If you are shopping in Bond Street, you shouldn't miss The Allies: A bronze of Roosevelt and Churchill chatting together like two old friends. This sculpture by Lawrence Holopiener is loved particularly for its authentic portrayal of the friendship the two men had and gives character to the whole street.If you are shopping on Oxford Street,then halt before entering Selfridges and look up and admire Gilbert Bayes’ masterpiece, The Queen of Time. A leading Victorian sculptor, who loved colour, he designed the jubilant queen in gold with her mermaids and mermen around her.  Representing trade and commerce, she is the figurehead of Selfridges and was designed to suggest that the rest of the building is her boat full of exotic international stock.If you are dining out in Piccadilly Circus, visit The Horses of Helios by Rudy Weller, galloping out of their fountain. They cannot but be admired in their wild abandon twinned with the drama of gushing water. This British artist also provides us with an extra surprise – if you look up at the top of the building opposite, you will see his Three Graces diving elegantly into the air and making any viewer’s heart leap with them.When visiting the Tate Britain,take a walk across the road and over to the water before leaving. You will see one of the finest Henry Moore's on the embankment. The Locking Piece has a rich and varied patina which shows off the sculpture’s marvellous contours enabling a visitor to see just why he became a contemporary artist heavy-weight. His sculptures are so valuable and popular that loans of his art are used for diplomatic purposes to broker deals between different countries.Public art has never had the status that gallery art enjoys though the calibre of London’s outdoor collection is outstanding. When offered the choice of seeing Henry Moore, Thornycroft or Degas in a room jostled by dozens of other tourists, or set against a majestic view of London, I know which I’d choose.

You'll find Amazon awash with books about changing your life or, better still, changing your career.  There are people who have done it and want to shout about it everywhere. Radio, podcasts, social media are full of inspirational material to get you out of that hole. Then there's the real world where over a cup of tea people bond over their loathing of the status quo. Whenever this common subject crops up, I have to stare at my feet and fidget or maybe fake an urgent need to respond to a text because I have a dark secret: I LOVE MY JOB SO MUCH I EVEN WANT TO WRITE ABOUT IT...It's possible there is few who wouldn't. Preservation is a natural instinct. We all take pride in our possessions and want them to survive. My work is just an extension of that, but I do encounter the most fantastic and inspiring objects which makes my imagination fizzle. I specialize in metals and quite often dream about them too (Yep, I know....weird). When I began putting some of those dreams on paper in my spare time they eventually became my first novel. The restoration world is one of art, craft, history and science which makes its scope as a background to fiction endless.My next book is not set squarely in the world of restoration, but it's still all about art.  It was Inspired by an Anthony Gormley's sculpture(Feeling Material IX)which I recently encountered (I'm very jealous of the great conservator who got to treat it!). I have big plans for next year to satiate my desire to combine writing with restoration: tonnes more fiction and a blog which will make use of the tricks of my trade. Just let me know if you want advice on how to preserve something in your home. You never know - It might end up featuring in my next novel.To see more images of the kind of sculpture I work on, please go to www.antiquebronze.co.uk

You'll find Amazon awash with books about changing your life or, better still, changing your career.  There are people who have done it and want to shout about it everywhere. Radio, podcasts, social media are full of inspirational material to get you out of that hole. Then there's the real world where over a cup of tea people bond over their loathing of the status quo. Whenever this common subject crops up, I have to stare at my feet and fidget or maybe fake an urgent need to respond to a text because I have a dark secret: I LOVE MY JOB SO MUCH I EVEN WANT TO WRITE ABOUT IT...It's possible there is few who wouldn't. Preservation is a natural instinct. We all take pride in our possessions and want them to survive. My work is just an extension of that, but I do encounter the most fantastic and inspiring objects which makes my imagination fizzle. I specialize in metals and quite often dream about them too (Yep, I know....weird). When I began putting some of those dreams on paper in my spare time they eventually became my first novel. The restoration world is one of art, craft, history and science which makes its scope as a background to fiction endless.My next book is not set squarely in the world of restoration, but it's still all about art.  It was Inspired by an Anthony Gormley's sculpture(Feeling Material IX)which I recently encountered (I'm very jealous of the great conservator who got to treat it!). I have big plans for next year to satiate my desire to combine writing with restoration: tonnes more fiction and a blog which will make use of the tricks of my trade. Just let me know if you want advice on how to preserve something in your home. You never know - It might end up featuring in my next novel.To see more images of the kind of sculpture I work on, please go to www.antiquebronze.co.uk

You'll find Amazon awash with books about changing your life or, better still, changing your career.  There are people who have done it and want to shout about it everywhere. Radio, podcasts, social media are full of inspirational material to get you out of that hole. Then there's the real world where over a cup of tea people bond over their loathing of the statue quo. Whenever this common subject crops up, I have to stare at my feet and fidget or maybe fake an urgent need to respond to a text