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At the centre of ‘The curious moaning of Kenfig Burrows’, Sophy Rickett’s collection of photographs in the Glynn Vivian Art Galley, is Cupid, a seventeenth century oil painting from the Gallery’s foundation collection. It’s safe to say that this work…
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Greening Swansea: a forgotten pioneer
Greening cities and towns, we might imagine, is a contemporary concern – a response to the realisation that we’re rapidly destroying the earth’s environment and depleting its non-human lifeforms. Swansea has its share of green activists and agitators working to…
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Thereza Dillwyn Llewelyn, selenophotographer
If you visit the Penllergare Valley Woods, as we did last week, you can’t leave without developing a strong respect for the estate’s chief creator, John Dillwyn Llewelyn. Photographic pioneer, astronomer, botanist, orchid collector, landscapist, inventor – he used his…
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Sebon glan, sebon budr
Daeth newyddion da o Lyfrgell Genedlaethol Cymru‘r wythnos yma: bod y Llyfrgell wedi prynu un o’r ddau fersiwn gwreiddiol o’r llun dyfrlliw enwog Salem gan Sydney Curnow Vosper, cyn arwerthiant yng Nghaerdydd. Mae’n hollol briodol bod llun a ddisgrifir yn…
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Edgar Degas does some more ironing
A while ago I drew attention to the pictures Edgar Degas made of women ironing. I tried to show how this unusual theme brought out the best in him as a painter. This week, in Avignon, I came across another…
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Werner Herzog’s pilgrimage to Paris
Many think Werner Herzog our greatest living film-maker. His major fiction films of the 1970s and 1980s will always find new viewers. Aguirre, Wrath of God, a study in conspiracy, tyranny and madness, has a claim to be one of…
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After Offa: Mercian Hymns
We weren’t just following his Dyke on foot. We were also tracking its maker, Offa, king of the Mercians. Or so it was said. We’ve no contemporary evidence that Offa was the one responsible. The first person to make the…
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Offa’s Dyke Path, day 15: Bodfari to Prestatyn
No kindness from the Path in the first section of today’s walk (we’re now reduced to three walkers). From the road, opposite a disused pub, the fingerpost points straight up a steep hill, before we’ve a chance to wake up…

