Lyn is a well-known poet and painter who lives in St Andrews.
Sample poem from Easterly, Force 10:
Full Cycle
Chasing the final cygnet from the harbour mouth
ten days after the other five,
the cob raises his iceberg wings
in feathered architrave,
sharpening the whitecaps’ edge
with loud, discordant hisses.
The cygnet tries
to foil its parents, spreading wings, takes off,
returns, continually rebuffed.
The pen looks on.
Back in harbour, cygnet gone,
the cob and pen relax, their annual duty done.
They swim awhile, in parallel,
then, bowing, twining, circling, dance
until the cob, like some bright avenging angel,
wings outstretched, covers the pen.
By Lyn Moir, from Easterly, Force 10, published 2009
Reviews:
'Sea-watching poems, with eyes wide open to the light and the spray. A skilful and exhilarating collection.' The quotation is from 'Survey Ship.'
Peter Bennett, Other Poetry, 2010
Reviews of Velazquez's Riddle
Frances Clark writes: You are shown that the top half of the painting, which Velazquez draws your eyes away from, is
in fact a space which: … not empty, balances the scene below… And you will either be made giddy by or understand that;
…we have some effect upon the scene, that if we breathe too hard, too short, we might disturb the balance of the court.
Balance is key in this volume. The poems exhibits balance in the economy of their expression; the precision of the language.
Moir achieves balance in her composition; half Velazquez, half Picasso; and the character of Velazquez balances in the book,
a colossus foot in each half, a …looming figure, in whose hands the whole illusion rests… (p.9 'Velázquez on Velázquez').
He observes us, he observes Picasso working on his series of variations; he is the … Ringmaster with the power to position
unwitting performers at the point of maximum tension… he is described as both a hero and a star … the bill-topper …
who makes us gasp at his audacity and skill in wire-walking… (p.9 'Velázquez on Velázquez').
Read her full review here: review
Anna Crowe's review was published in St Andrews in Focus, April 2011. here's an extract:
In Velázquez's Riddle, imagined with great verve and couched in many different poetic forms, Lyn Moir brings the court
of Philip IV vividly to life, with all its arrogance and innuendo, fear, jealousy and hints of sexual scandal (the king had
married his niece when his first wife died). Her own canvas is broad too, with hints of Lorca, visions of E.T. and Dr Who,
of Lewis Carroll, James Barrie, and the Golden Age Spanish playwright, Calderón de la Barca, the sounds of jazz and
boogie, to name but a few. Here are the last lines from the final poem in the sequence, 'The March of Time':
The aim's the same: to paint a place
with characters defined by custom, face,
surroundings, so that viewers know
the intimate details, the scene
behind the scene behind the scene,
hidden tensions holding subjects
together or apart. A map perhaps,
a chart of politics, familial, international
(here the same)? A game of chess
or cards, with loss of life or banishment
for those who break the rules?
Siempre lo mismo. Nunca cambia nada.
Anna Crowe
Order this book from the Catalogue page