IT ALL STARTED with a pair of pumpkins. Well, they weren’t pumpkins, really. That was the problem. Nobody was quite sure what they were, the colossal tendrilled forms which I had commissioned my old schoolfriend, Devon-based sculptor Anthony Turner, to carve to top the gateposts of my home in the village of Asthall, in Oxfordshire, UK.

People don’t put abstract sculpture on their gateposts in the Cotswolds. They put pineapples, or simple orbs, or something that might be very beautiful – but that is not what I wanted. I wanted something with character, something mysterious but friendly, which ...


There are approximately 997 more words in this article.

To read the rest of this article, please buy this issue, or join the Resurgence Trust. As a member you will receive access to the complete archive of magazines from May 1966.

Buy Issue Join Us

If you are already a member, please Sign in