Conrad John Godly.
I like a good mountain. There’s a couple sitting in the back of this magnificent film poster by Brian Hung.
We don’t really have mountains where I live. I walked up part of the Wrekin when I was a little kid, but people in other parts of the world would call that a hill. I remember being in Oregon and seeing Mount Hood way in the distance painted bronze by the late afternoon light and just staring at it.
And in (this piece by Zhu Da, by contrast, the trees and rocks and mountains are brushstrokes and gestures. His vision is calligraphic.
“Four monks posted at the edge of the terrace of the monastery courtyard scan the far reaches of the valley. As soon as they glimpse the guest of honour they sound their enormous dun-chen horns, whose deep bass tones reverberate in the steep, white heights of the mountain. The silent snow captures and amplifies this extension of the human voice as it rings out to welcome the guest. Simultaneously a fire of sweet-smelling herbs is lit. Soon afterwards the rgya-glin oboes are heard. The lama climbs slowly upwards and the music does not cease until he has crossed the threshold of the monastery.”
OCEAN OF SOUND, David Toop
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