Barrow Trance  130x 160cm Niamh Cunningham你芙瑞莲2020  

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“We found that trees could communicate, over the air and through their roots. Common sense hooted us down. We found that trees take care of each other. Collective science dismissed the idea. Outsiders discovered how seeds remember the seasons of their childhood and set buds accordingly. Outsiders discovered that trees sense the presence of other nearby life. That a tree learns to save water. That trees feed their young and synchronize their masts and bank resources and warn kin and send out signals to wasps to come and save them from attacks. “Here’s a little outsider information, and you can wait for it to be confirmed. A forest knows things. They wire themselves up underground. There are brains down there, ones our own brains aren’t shaped to see. Root plasticity, solving problems and making decisions. Fungal synapses. What else do you want to call it? Link enough trees together, and a forest grows aware.”
― Richard Powers, The Overstory

 

Memory Palace of Trees 2020 is an ecological art practice which invites your participation to tell a story (or give some kind of information) about trees. It is a social enquiry of how to live better with the planet and with people. You are cordially invited to tell me your story of a tree or trees. (email : niamh@niamhcunningham.com) I would love to hear from you . Each week throughout 2020 a story will be posted with either an artwork already made or perhaps your story will inspire me to make a new work! 

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The Tree Story for week 12 features a poem my friend Prof Fu Hao . Keep Well , Keep Safe , Keep Happy .

A TREE IN THE PARK

 

Tree in the park, what

are you waiting for?

 

We don’t know when you were transplanted here

but only see you’ve never moved since,

for your feet have already degenerated.

you’re unable to walk as you will.

 

You can no longer remember

your family tree,

that majestical multitude dancing in winds and storms,

but stand alone at a loss

in the very centre of the crowded city.

 

In summer you wear thick clothes

and in winter strip off

and mumble to yourself under the midnight moonlight

like a homeless lunatic beggar

for whom nobody cares,

 

till one day someone who loves someone

leaves with you a heart pierced by an arrow.

The deep cuts will never cicatrize.

Time is a bad healer,

who can only make the wounds gape open

like chapped skin.

 

Some years later, on your old trunk

they might nail a board with these words written:

“Once upon a time a hero pursued his enemy,

who ran around the tree here.

and with his bow shot and missed,

leaving these cuts in the tree.”

 

Tree in the park, what

are you waiting for?

 

 Fu Hao 1991

 

Memory Palace of Trees 2020 is an ecological art practice which invites your participation to tell a story (or give some kind of information) about trees. It is a social enquiry of how to live better with the planet and with people. You are cordially invited to tell me your story of a tree or trees. (email : niamh@niamhcunningham.com) I would love to hear from you . Each week throughout 2020 a story will be posted with either an artwork already made or perhaps your story will inspire me to make a new work! 

 

Yunnan Bamboo Oil on Canvas150x115cm Niamh Cunningham 倪芙瑞莲 2014

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Yesterday, I saw a dramatic display of  mandarin ducks in flight. Many  Mandarin Ducks choose to spend winter in Beijing,  some  perch in nests near  the staff residential area for the Environmental Protection and Greening Bureau.

     On the campus, there are two bamboo forests of which I am very fond.  One is in front of the catering college. The tall bamboo stalks are dense, and not easily visible. It is a paradise for many small birds (including larger birds)- birds of Paradise so to speak. The second is a small bamboo forest between buildings 7 and 6 where the kittens often hide and play where I have also witnessed little hedgehogs foraging at night.

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‘My tree story comes from childhood memories in my hometown in Inner Mongolia. Back then there were relatively few winter fruits. The happiest times were when my young friends and I would feast on sea- buckthorn berries which had been frozen in the snow.’

If sea buckthorn berries are not frozen it is near to impossible to pick these bright orange tiny pumpkins, apart from the long razor-sharp thorns the berries hold on tight to the branch and have a very thin skin so the tug you need to free them squishes them to a pulp.

雪甜  March 2020

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I am thrilled to have permission to post this poem by Irish poet Pat Ingoldsby . It follows the theme from week 8 .

OF TREES AND ME

Leaning against a fragrant brown telegraph pole,
waiting for my bus,
breathing in the rich aroma of creosote
which was leaking out,
and loving the tarry scent of it.
“Excuse me” said the pole quietly.
“Were you a tree once?”
“Goodness… no,” I said. “I’m a person.”
“Yes,” said the pole. “But are you sure
you weren’t a tree?”
“Sure, I am. I was a baby, then a small boy,
a teenager and a man like I am now.”
And suddenly, before I needed to say anymore,
my bus came and with great relief,
I was gone.
Lying in bed later that night,
I was thinking about the pole
which is just across the road from my house.
I was thinking about it a lot.
Part of me was going to get up,
get dressed, go across the road
and tell a convincing lie to it.
But sleep came
and for the second time that day,
I was gone.

Pat Ingoldsby, April 2019

 

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“You and the tree in your backyard come from a common ancestor. A billion and a half years ago, the two of you parted ways. But even now, after an immense journey in separate directions, that tree and you still share a quarter of your genes. . . .”
― Richard Powers, The Overstory

 

 

 

Some thoughts on putting things into perspective……

There is only one type of DNA which all animals and plants share. It is not surprising that animals and plants have a large portion of their genes in common. Some key genes that direct metabolic processes in humans are conserved and similar to those found in plants and are recognized as having a common origin.

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This week’s  tree story comes from a city whose people are in our hearts and on our minds .

 

This story comes from someone who often visits Wuhan.

‘When I am in Wuhan I frequently visit friends in Hanyang near St Columban’s Cathedral, a short distance from where the Han River enters the much bigger Yangtze River. Almost as impressive as the Yangtze River is the towering 550-year-old ginkgo tree that stands across the road . Under its shadow stands Wuhan’s Number 5 Hospital. In recent weeks this hospital was designated to receive patients suffering from the coronavirus.

Hanyang’s famous ginkgo tree has witnessed many historical events. Dynasties have come and gone, floods have risen and abated and wars have taken their toll on the people. Now as the tree stands without leaves following the visit of another winter, it is witness to an event that poses as big a challenge as any that has gone before. Considering its long years, perhaps it is no surprise that the tree is now protected within a neat compound. An elderly couple living in small home at the compound entrance ensures that the tree and its history are protected.’ Anonymous

 

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