Metaphysical Meanderings

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2011-07-01T01:00:00.006-07:00

Portrait of the Artist and Photographer circa 1973.

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All images copyright © +Seán Manchester

The Artist and Photographer on location in central London circa 1967.

The Artist and Photographer at work in his portrait studio circa 1963.

The Sixties

2011-07-01T01:00:00.004-07:00

My life as a photographer began in the early Sixties when throughout that decade I ran a photographic studio by day and performed by night as a professional musician in rock 'n' roll, showband and modern jazz groups. Examples of nostalgic pictures taken during that exciting period follow ...
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The Southlanders showband for whom I played tenor saxophone.

The street front of my studio in Islington, London, circa mid-Sixties.

One of the studio windows displaying some of my models circa 1967.

Two Californian girls who worked temporarily as models circa 1968.

Blowing tenor saxophone on a rooftop in 1969 — a very Sixties thing!

This model had a "Bonnie Parker" look about her which intrigued me.

I photographed her around the time of the 1967 film Bonnie and Clyde.

My best friend during the Fifties and Sixties — guitarist Steve Howe.

Good friend from the Sixties who disappeared — the mystic Robin Kitchen.

My dear friend Spike Milligan playing cornet. We had much in common.

Model and girlfriend who had a very sultry look — and green eyes.

Saxophone modern jazz solo — probably toward the end of the Sixties.

Model and girlfriend — innocent, beautiful with a softly feminine voice.

For me the most important attribute for a model is her look and her eyes.

She was electrifying when in front of a camera — otherwise very tranquil.

She probably had the greenest eyes ever — we met up again years later.

Composite of various sessions as a saxophonist in the mid to late Sixties.

Atmospheric pictures cannot be contrived — they just happen.

The "Jean Shrimpton" look was very popular with photographers.

Strange and unusual angles in strange and unusual places.

My model portrays a typical dolly-bird look that epitomised the Sixties.

She saw strange things at Highgate Cemetery in 1967.

Impression of transparent spectre witnessed near Highgate Cemetery.

Impression of unearthly entity seen at Highgate Cemetery in the Sixties.

The Seventies

2011-07-01T01:00:00.002-07:00

The Artist and Photographer at Highgate in the early Seventies.

Natural photograph of a model and friend in a Neo-Gothic setting.

The most successful film at the beginning of the new decade — Love Story.

The most popular British television series — Upstairs Downstairs.

Upstairs Downstairs starred Lesley-Anne Down as Lady Georgina Worsley.

Lesley-Anne now lives in America, but recently sent me this picture.

The Seventies opened as immersed in metaphyiscal mystery as the Sixties had closed. This was refelcted in some of the photographic images I took, but there was much else besides which should not be overlooked. My work as a professional musician slowed down, and the studio I ran had closed by the end of the previous decade. I was now freelance, but also working on the other side of the lens as an actor in both low budget and major films. Here I met and befriended many well known performers, including the alluring French actress Sylvaine Charlet. We shared many interests.

A similar image of us appears in her biography — Sylvaine Superstar.

Fellow artiste and girlfriend — the beautiful actress Sylvaine Charlet.

On the set of the film Beren in Paris in which Sylvaine and I starred.

Sylvaine was also an accomplished musician, artist and writer.

Period parts always felt more comfortable for both me and Sylvaine.

She was no more suited for modernism and the new century than am I.

Film scene from an art-house movie with a very established actress.

A dramatic scene from the low budget movie The Duel in which I fenced.

Sylvaine was a very accomplished fencer who trained every week.

Acting against type in a science fiction movie everyone will recognise.

An altogether more comfortable rôle for me — set in the 19th century.

An iconic British film of the previous decade was Tom Jones.

It starred Susannah York whom I came to know and like enormously.

As the Seventies wore on, I continued with various artistic pursuits such as drama, photography and music. Yet the metaphysical impact of the Sixties had to a large extant become magnified for me in the decade that followed. Inescapable was the dominance of mysterious happenings at Highgate and its environs. These permeated into everything until the force originally emanating from Highgate's famous graveyard was disrupted and quietened. For those who believed in such strangeness witnessed by those who saw it, no proof was necessary. For those who disbelieved, no amount of proof would ever suffice. What happened back then obviously affected my artistic expression via various media, not least my photographic imagery and portraiture in oils — examples of which can be found throughout this blog and also surface in my books on the supernatural; not least, Carmel and, of course, The Highgate Vampire.

The Eighties & Nineties

2011-07-01T01:00:00.000-07:00

The Eighties signified for me the beginning and the end of so much. The supernaturalism centred at Highgate had been extirpated, and the case itself was finally closed in the first couple of years of the new decade. The dreams and optimism which sprang out of the Sixties were now buried under the emerging cynicism and consumerism of the Eighties. Barely a trace remained of that gentler time as Britain for the first time since WWII went to war again — this time over the Falkland Islands — a taste of what was to come in the Nineties and the new century. And a new generation of greed marked the fast decline in morals so evident today.

I remained as committed to music and the arts as before, but life's tempo had changed and everyone suddenly seemed to be in such a rush with nowhere especially interesting to go. More than ever, I was a fish out of water, but nonetheless met people who, like myself, felt out of step with the modern age. A very dear friend, who had been a model when she first came to London, opened a print gallery in Pond Square, Highgate, where I was invited to display my photographic images of the area. This was followed by the first edition of my most popular book being published in 1985 — The Highgate Vampire — optioned to become a cinema movie.

My dearest friend, Diana, who owned the print gallery in Highgate, gave incredible support to all my projects. Sadly, she is no longer with us, having been taken swiftly by cancer early in the new century, but she nonetheless knew I reached the promised place by the seashore, even if she never finally did so herself. She also witnessed my happiness in finding the perfect soul mate — the person who would become my wife.

Sarah and I met one sunny October day as she was walking home, and I was watching her a few yards from where once my photographic studio stood in the Sixties. My book had been published in the previous year, and she had recently graduated from university with an honours degree in drama and dance. Yet — in that moment when we first saw each other — neither knew anything about the other. It was love at first sight. We married the following year in her county of origin, Wiltshire, on what was undoubtedly the happiest day of our lives. Diana was my "best man" and the reception was held in the open, beneath the sun, with music supplied by Enya. I was attired as a Grail Knight — Sarah wore a medieval wedding dress she had designed herself. She looked beautiful.

“It sometimes happens that a man and a woman meet and instantly recognise the other half of themselves behind the eyes of each other. Such a meeting occurred between Sarah and I. Our spirits rushed together in joyful recognition, ignoring all convention and custom, all social rules of behaviour, driven by an inner knowing ― too overwhelming to be denied. And now we can find wholeness.” ― Extract from my wedding speech (8 August 1987)

Sarah.

Sarah prior to a dinner party at our coastal retreat.

Sarah and I with my tenor saxophone close to where we live.

Sarah attending our wedding anniversary at Langtry Manor.

My mother and Sarah's father at my ordination reception.

The church where I was episcopally consecrated.

Sarah on the occasion of her becoming a deacon.

My mother, Diana and her son, Oliver, receiving the Blessed Sacrament.

Private Exhibition

2009-03-21T23:59:00.001-07:00

Pictures are occasionally loaned for exhibition purposes, and I do accept commissions when time allows. Oil on canvas portraiture my preference.

Portraiture (oil on canvas)

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I begin with the inspiration and proceed to make a quick sketch with charcoal or extra black pencil. The basic form is then transfered in very rough outline onto canvas. From this point absolutely anything can happen as the artist becomes the means and his tools become the medium by which more than mere reproduction takes place. I have cameras for taking portraiture of how sitters look on the outside. The camera lens may capture aspects of their character and reveal certain things about them, but painting in oils unlocks something else; something beyond the way light falls onto a subject to reveal lines, shade and shape. The female model in the example I have shown has an ethereal quality that I wanted to retain, rather than her softly feminine attributes and elfin charm. Without abandoning her fairy-like nature, I sought to delve even deeper to reveal something more internal than external — something strong and spiritual. The male subject, painted soon afterwards, is less malleable and, therefore, falls manifestly more into what might be classified as realism; though I try to avoid categorising art in this fixed way. The subject, for me, invariably dictates the style, but not in a self-conscious way. The male portrait is painted from memory, whereas the female portrait is someone I see all the time. Yet the female appears more expressionistic because of who she is, and, conversely, the male more realistic because of who he is. I start with an outline in the rough, and follow with colour. Sometimes the background is filled in around the subject; more often it is left unpainted until close to the end while I work on the figure and face.

Development

2009-03-13T06:03:00.001-07:00

The evolutionary development as paint greets canvas.

(The last picture is a detail from the finished figure portrait.)
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Ghaist

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So now beware, whoe'er you are,

That walkis in this lone wood;

Beware of that deceitful spright,

The ghaist that suckis the blude.

Sleep

2009-03-13T06:02:00.005-07:00

I must pass on down the way, and on alone. Under the grass

You wait; the breeze moves in the trees, and stirs and calls,

And covers you with white petals, with light petals.

There it shall crumble, frail and fair, under the sun,

O little heart, your brittle heart; till day be done,

And the shadows gather, falling light, and, white with dew,

Whipser, and weep; and creep to you. Good sleep to you!

Apparition

2009-03-13T06:02:00.003-07:00

The clouded moon's pale yellow light
Is filtered through an approaching mist.
Trees rustle in the evening breeze talk to me
Before you appear, framed in the darkening night;
Wisps of hair dancing like snakes unleashed;
Your curls brightly glowing against the light
Like dying embers of some unearthly fire.
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As you turn to go my mind silently cries:
"Wait. Wait. Let me look upon you ..."
But the words will not form on my lips.
I try to catch the sleeve of your cerement
But it, like the mist itself, defies my grasp.
I am anchored to the ground as you fade.
You are gone as quickly as you appeared..Where you were is empty of your apparition,
Yet I feel your presence lingering, lingering ...
Chilling my soul!

Vampyre

2009-03-13T06:02:00.001-07:00

But first on earth, as Vampyre sent,
Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent;
Then ghastly haunt the native place,
And suck the blood of all thy race;
There from thy daughter, sister, wife,
At midnight drain the stream of life;
Yet loathe the banquet which perforce
Must feed thy livid living corse,
Thy victims, ere they yet expire,
Shall know the demon for their sire;
As cursing thee, thou cursing them,
Thy flowers are withered on the stem.

Luceafăr

2009-03-13T06:01:00.006-07:00

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"When the Lord has given you rest from your pain and turmoil and the hard service with which you were made to serve, you will take up this taunt against the king of Babylon: How the oppressor has ceased! How his insolence has ceased! … How you are fallen from heaven, O Day Star, son of Dawn! How you are cut down to the ground, you who laid the nations low! You said in your heart, 'I will ascend to heaven; I will raise my throne above the stars of God; I will sit on the mount of assembly on the heights of Zaphon; I will ascend to the tops of the clouds, I will make myself like the Most High.' But you are brought down to Sheol, to the depths of the Pit. Those who see you will stare at you, and ponder over you: 'Is this the man who made the earth tremble, who shook kingdoms, who made the world like a desert and overthrew its cities, who would not let his prisoners go home?' " (Isaiah 14: 3-4; 14: 12-17)
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Lucifer is not the proper name of the Devil, but denotes only the state from which he has fallen (Petavius, De Angelis, III, iii, 4).

Michael

2009-03-13T06:01:00.005-07:00

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St Michael is one of the principal angels; his name was the war-cry of the good angels in the battle fought in heaven against the enemy and his followers. Four times his name is recorded in Scripture: (1) Daniel 10: 13 sqq., Gabriel says to Daniel, when he asks God to permit the Jews to return to Jerusalem: "The Angel [D.V. prince] of the kingdom of the Persians resisted me . . . and, behold Michael, one of the chief princes, came to help me . . . and none is my helper in all these things, but Michael your prince." (2) Daniel 12, the Angel speaking of the end of the world and the Antichrist says: "At that time shall Michael rise up, the great prince, who standeth for the children of thy people." (3) In the Catholic Epistle of St Jude: "When Michael the Archangel, disputing with the Devil, contended about the body of Moses," etc. St Jude alludes to an ancient Jewish tradition of a dispute between Michael and Satan over the body of Moses, an account of which is also found in the apocryphal book on the assumption of Moses (Origen, "De principiis", III, 2, 2). St Michael concealed the tomb of Moses; Satan, however, by disclosing it, tried to seduce the Jewish people to the sin of hero-worship. St Michael also guards the body of Eve, according to the Revelation of Moses ("Apocryphal Gospels," etc, edition A. Walker, Edinburgh, p. 647). (4) Apocalypse 12: 7, "And there was a great battle in heaven, Michael and his angels fought with the dragon." St John speaks of the great conflict at the end of time, which reflects also the battle in heaven at the beginning of time. According to the Fathers there is often question of St Michael in Scripture where his name is not mentioned. They say he was the cherub who stood at the gate of paradise, "to keep the way of the tree of life" (Genesis 3: 24), the angel through whom God published the Decalogue to his chosen people, the angel who stood in the way against Balaam (Numbers 22: 22 sqq.), the angel who routed the army of Sennacherib (IV Kings 19: 35).
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Following these Scriptural passages, Christian tradition gives to St Michael four offices: (1) To fight against Satan. (2) To rescue the souls of the faithful from the power of the enemy, especially at the hour of death. (3) To be the champion of God's people, the Jews in the Old Law, the Christians in the New Testament; therefore he was the patron of the Church, and of the orders of knights during the Middle Ages. (4) To call away from earth and bring men's souls to judgment ("signifer S. Michael repraesentet eas in lucam sanctam," Offert. Miss Defunct. "Constituit eum principem super animas suscipiendas," Antiph. off. Cf. "Hermas", Pastor, I, 3, Simil. VIII, 3).

Francis

2009-03-13T06:01:00.003-07:00

St Francis of Assisi is mine and many other people's favourite saint. Francis was born in 1182, the son of a wealthy cloth merchant. His early years were frivolous, but an experience of sickness and another of military service were instrumental in leading him to reflect on the purpose of life. One day, in the Church of San Damiano, he heard Christ saying to him: "Francis, repair my falling house." He took the words literally, and sold a bale of silk from his father's warehouse to pay for repairs to the church of San Damiano. His father was outraged, and there was a public confrontation at which his father disinherited and disowned him, and he in turn renounced his father's wealth. One account says that he not only handed his father his purse, but also took off his expensive clothes, laid them at his father's feet, and walked away naked. He declared himself "wedded to Lady Poverty," renounced all material possessions, and devoted himself to serving the poor. Since he could not pay for repairs to the Church of San Damiano, he undertook to repair it by himself. He moved in with the priest, and begged stones lying useless in fields, shaping them for use in repairing the church. He got his meals, not by asking for money so that he might live at the expense of others, but by scrounging crusts and discarded vegetables, and by working as a day labourer, insisting on being paid in bread, milk, eggs, or vegetables rather than in money. Soon a few companions joined him. Dante in his Paradiso has Aquinas say of him:
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"Let me tell you of a youth whose aristocratic father disowned Him because of his love for a beautiful lady. She had been married before, to Christ, and was so faithful a spouse to Him that, while Mary only stood at the foot of the Cross, she leaped up to be with Him on the Cross. These two of whom I speak are Francis and the Lady Poverty. As they walked along together, the sight of their mutual love drew men's hearts after them. Bernard saw them and ran after them, kicking off his shoes to run faster to so great a peace. Giles and Sylvester saw them, kicked off their shoes and ran to join them ..."

After three years (in 1210) the Pope authorised the forming of the Order of Friars Minor, commonly called the Franciscans.

Grail

2009-03-13T06:01:00.001-07:00

The Holy Grail - Sacred Cup of the Last Supper - in its permanent setting.

These pictures depict the Grail in mystical realisation. The number of true apostles is how many days it took to translate to canvas. The finished work is displayed in its ornate antique silver frame in the large entrance hall to my coastal retreat and greets visitors visually as they step over the portal. This work left me exhausted, but pleased with the result. I was in a transcendental state throughout the process, pouring much energy and love into its conception and creation. An ambitious project by any standard, I am nevertheless most gratified by the response received from those who have seen the painting in person. Like all my works of art, this one in particular needs to be experienced in the flesh. Viewings for acquaintances and aficionados can always be arranged by appointment.
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Portrait with the communion chalice in use at the Holy Grail Retreat.

The Holy Grail portrait permanently on display at the Holy Grail Retreat.

Pius XII

2009-03-13T06:00:00.004-07:00

With profound and sincere devotion, we humbly request that the cause for the beatification of Pius XII proceed without delay. My portrait of the pontiff wearing his triple tiara, the last to do so, is poignant for anyone who remembers the Old Mass in all its wonder and mystery before Vatican II, begun by his successor, swept aside the signposts of centuries..

Kevin

2009-03-13T06:00:00.003-07:00

Kevin's last correspondence in December 2009 to a mutual friend ended with these words: "The struggle can take many turns and directions." Ironically, Kevin's struggle took an exceptionally negative turn and direction in the immediate aftermath of him writing those words; one which found him immersed in darkness where he sought to harm those who had only shown him kindness and generosity. By which time I had already completed my portrait of him in the wake of our final meeting in late December 2007. I had known him over three and a half decades.

"I say to you, one of you shall betray Me."

(John 13: 21)

Darkness

2009-03-13T06:00:00.001-07:00

Darkness is not relevant unless light pentrates it and vents illumination of something caught in its beam. Darkness has no substance without light. Whereas the latter will be seen a trillion light years away in the void; shining long after it has expired. We catch a glimpse of darkness only because light shines upon it from some near or distant place and brings illumination to its reflected form. Light extinguishes dark. When dark consumes light we see no more. We drift as though we are undead.

Passus

2009-03-13T05:58:00.000-07:00

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The narratives of the Passion are found in the four canonical gospels, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. Three of these, Matthew, Mark, and Luke are known as the Synoptic Gospels, give very similar accounts. The Gospel of John includes additional details. According to the Gospel of John, Pilate had Jesus brought out a second time, wearing the purple robe and the crown of thorns, in order to appeal His innocence before the crowd, saying "Ecce homo" ("Here is the man"). The priests urged the crowd to demand Jesus' death. Pilate resigned himself to the decision, washing his hands (according to Matthew) before the people as a sign that Jesus' blood would not be upon him. Mark and Matthew record that Jesus was returned His own clothes, prior to being led out for execution. The Synoptic Gospels state that on arrival at Golgotha, Jesus was offered wine laced with myrrh to lessen the pain, but He refused it. Jesus was then crucified, according to Mark, at the third hour (9.00am) the morning after the Passover meal, but according to John He was handed over to be crucified at the sixth hour (noon) the day before the Passover meal, though this is resolved because the Synoptics use Jewish time, and John uses Roman time. The Gospels state that they divided Jesus' clothes between the soldiers except for one garment for which they cast lots. The Gospel of John states that this fulfills a prophecy from Psalms 22: 18. Some of the crowd who had been following taunted Jesus, saying "He trusts in God; let God deliver Him now!" and suggested that Jesus might perform a miracle to release Himself from the cross. According to the synoptics, the sky became dark at midday and the darkness lasted for three hours, until the ninth hour when Jesus cried out "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?" ("My God, why have you forsaken me?") The centurion standing guard, who had seen how Jesus died, declared Jesus innocent (Luke) and Son of God (Matthew, Mark).

The Man of Sorrows by Pietro Lorenzetti, circa 1330 (Lindenau Museum, Altenburg) was not necessarily the inspiration for this portrait of the Passion, but its juxtaposition across seven centuries is nevertheless apposite and hopefully complimentary.

Jesus

2009-02-15T03:05:00.001-08:00

When I was a teenager I presented my mother with a framed picture of the Sacred Heart of Jesus which I had found at St Joseph's Catholic Church Repository on Highgate Hill, London. She kept it by her bedside for the rest of her days. A photograph of this picture appears immediately below. When my mother died I felt the same attachment for it she had felt. It now hangs on a wall close to my own bed. My portrait in oils of Jesus drew inspiration from the feeling derived from this old Catholic image.

The early stages of working on the portrait in the garden at my private retreat situated on the Dorset coast in southern England.

Sarah

2009-02-14T01:32:00.001-08:00

Portraits of Sarah have been my most challenging and I am still in the process of realising in oil what is inwardly visualised in the hope of manifestation on canvas. In the examples shown here I colours Sarah likes are evident. They reflect her inner spirituality and child-like beauty. Her eyes are green which I emphasise in the first portrait. She always dreamt as a child of being a fairy and having green hair. This is reflected in the second, but not in the third expressionistic portrait. The natural colour of her hair is dark blonde. One of the demands put on attempts to paint Sarah is her translucent beauty which radiates from deep within her as well as the surface. A detail from the most avant-garde of the four portraits appears immediately below and below that is a portrait detail from a figure painting which Sarah feels reflects her best and she really likes. My paintings, however, are yet to do her qualities any real justice. Yet I, too, like the last one most out of the four.

Self-Portrait

2009-02-13T22:11:00.000-08:00

“This place we are now is really a battlefield between the powers of good and the forces of darkness.”

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These words, uttered during the filming of an exorcism rite at a tomb entrance (transmitted by BBC television in October 1970), were to prove prophetic in the light of following events. We find ourselves on the battlefield between the powers of good and the forces of darkness throughout our lives. The intensity of the spiritual warfare and eternal struggle between opposing forces is reflected in this portrait which attempts to reach inwardly a tranquil place of peace where all is calm at the centre of the storm. The image below is a television appearance in the 1990s.

Adversary

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You see I am vanity personified.

I'm a finger of the Devil's pride.

I am the Devil tried.

The Devil's Fool you are,

No matter how you shout

Your avowals to start again.

The Devil you acquires

With vain conceits that steadily eat your soul

As worms quilt the body's fodder which is your end.

Unless you realise in heart and mind that as you are

You're the Devil's coal ready to burn to ash ...

Episcopus

2009-02-13T01:48:00.000-08:00

I drew inspiration for this portrait of a deceased bishop principally from the Capuchins' Catacombs located in Palermo, Italy, where there are thousands of corpses lined on the walls like paintings. The catacombs date back to 1599 when the local priests mummified Br Silvestro from Gubbio. The last religious to be interred was Br Riccardo of Palermo in 1871. Rosalia Lombardo was one of the last lay corpses to be received into the catacombs before the local authorities discontinued the practice. Rosalia died circa 1920 and quickly became known as the "Sleeping Beauty." Her sister and family frequently visited her coffin after her death. Some of the corpses have long ago lost their flesh and are skeletons. Others have flesh, hair and eyes. All are dressed in clothes from the period in which they lived. Several of the corpses appear as if "screaming" from the dead. Some have body parts which have fallen off over the years. The catacombs are divided into men, women, virgins, children, priests, monks and professionals. The professionals' section contains the bodies of professors, doctors, lawyers, painters, officers and soldiers of the Bourbon and Italian army. Among the famous names are those of the painter Velasquez, the sculptors Filippo Pennino and Lorenzo Marabitti and the surgeon Salvatore Manzella. These bodies, some preserved while others are in stages of decomposition, remain with us and on view. Their souls, however, have long since departed to God and to a better world. In this eerie place you can actually sense that.

Lilian

2009-02-12T00:46:00.000-08:00

Lilian converted to Catholicism in 1989. She had previously been a nursing-home employee. The Archdiocese of Ottawa, Ontario, where she then lived, established a commission to investigate her claims of stigmatism. The Roman Catholic Church often resists publicity regarding supernatural claims, notes the Reverend Thomas Reese (a Jesuit priest who edits the weekly Catholic magazine America). Lilian first exhibited stigmata during Easter 1992, the year my mother died, having previously received visions of Jesus. According to one of her two booklets, published in 1999, Jesus appears frequently to her, addressing her as "My suffering soul," "My sweet petal," and "My child." When asked about cross-shaped wounds (she has an apparent cruciform scar on her right jaw near the ear), she stated in 2002 that such stigmata were of the Devil, that before her genuine stigmata came she had periods of possession. Her wounds are to the backs of the hands and tops of the feet, in addition to small wounds on the scalp representing a crown of thorns (John 19: 2). When attempting this challenging portrait I also drew inspiration from the German stigmatic Theresa Neumann (1898-1962) who allegedly lived solely on the Holy Eucharist from 1925 and bled from both her eyes and bore a big stain on her right shoulder where the Cross would have been carried by Our Lord. A case for the beatification of Theresa Neumann was introduced on 13 February 2005 by Bishop Gerhard Ludwig Muller, Bishop of Regensburg, Germany. Ana Luz Hernández, another inspiration for my canvas, is a stigmatic marked with wounds on the forehead. Reported cases of stigmata take various forms. Many show some or all of the five Holy Wounds that were, according to the Bible, inflicted on Jesus during His crucifixion: wounds in the hands and feet, from nails, and in the side, from a lance. Some stigmatics display wounds to the forehead similar to those caused by the crown of thorns. Other reported forms include tears of blood or sweating blood, wounds to the back as from scourging, or wounds to the shoulder as from bearing the Cross.

Elżbieta

2009-02-11T00:44:00.000-08:00

"On Wednesday evening I tried, as gently as possible, to confront Elizabeth with the notion that some force, of which her conscious mind is not aware or refuses to be aware, is controlling her actions for part of the time; in fact, the fight between the two forces is visible in her gestures and actions. Somewhere, very close to her conscious mind, she knows that something of this is true, but the full horror of the situation is too much for her to accept at the moment. The result is that she runs when anything nasty presents itself ― this gives the dark side its chance to take over. On Wednesday, after this confrontation, she ran out into the night. I followed and eventually found her outside the gate of the cemetery at the top of Swains Lane. She was staring through the iron rails as if in a trance ..." ― Keith (quoted from The Highgate Vampire, p. 57).

Keith

2009-02-10T02:14:00.000-08:00

This portrait of Keith indicates the trauma of the aftershock from experiences relating to Elizabeth (and, of course, Highgate Cemetery) decades earlier. It is the first oil painting of a series, culminating with the picture immediately below which shows Keith, as he looks today, standing alongside the final canvas.

“In 1968, I heard first-hand of such a sighting and my informant maintained that he and his companions had secreted themselves in one of the vaults and watched a dark figure flit among the catacombs and disappear into a huge vault from which the vampire, ghost or whatever it may have been, did not reappear. Subsequent search revealed no trace inside the vault but I was told that a trail of drops of blood stopped at an area of massive coffins which could have hidden a dozen vampires. Other reports in 1968 and 1969 told of a similar figure visiting graves and appearing and disappearing in circumstances that ruled out the possibility of the figure being human. A motorist whose car broke down near one of the cemetery gates reported seeing ‘something’ peer at him through the iron gates. He could not believe that it had been anything human. His recollection of the ‘thing’ that looked at him was of staring eyes and white teeth disclosed by what he described as a snarl.” ― Peter Underwood, The Vampire’s Bedside Companion (1975), p. 76.

Keith at London's Highgate Cemetery during the time of Elizabeth's nightly visitations toward the end of the 1960s.

Katrina

2009-02-09T01:44:00.001-08:00

My portrait of Katrina seeks to capture her social standing (the daughter of landed gentry), intelligence and wit. Humour is an important component for anyone. Where an abudance of time is spent in that person's company it is absolutely essential. Katrina's wit is innate, spontaneous and intellectually sharp. She speaks openly and honestly; a quality I greatly appreciate.

The other quality I appreciate, above all else, is loyalty. Katrina, since our becoming acquainted many years ago, has exhibited an abundance of faithfulness as a trusted friend and colleague. She was a teenager and about to sign up with a major model agency when we first met. Later she became my personal assistant. I greatly value her support and genuine comradeship. Below is a picture of our arrival at a venue where the dress code, as happened more frequently in those days, was formal.

Anthony

2009-02-08T03:20:00.001-08:00

Anthony, the subject in the above portrait, was employed in my darkroom at the time I had a photographic studio. He revealed to me soon after we had met that he believed in the Devil because he had seen the Evil One’s form manifest in cigarette smoke inside the darkroom of another establishment where he had previously worked. This was before I became acquainted with him. In those days he admired the poet, climber and diabolist Aleister Crowley who featured, along with others, on the cover of The Beatles’ album Sergeant Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band. Crowley had shocked an entire generation in Edwardian Britain, only to become one of the more bizarre icons of the 1960s. Anthony and his wife occasionally dabbled in séances on a Friday night at their home. This led to some allegedly frightening experiences and they stopped as soon as they had started. His peripheral immersion in the occult, however, later brought him into proximity of certain events at Highgate, and he was to become socially acquainted with a man who tried to insinuate himself into the cemetery goings-on with disastrous consequences. By which time, in the immediate wake of leaving my employ, I saw next to nothing of Anthony.

Anthony's admiration for the black magician Aleister Crowley in the 1960s waned and dissolved over following decades. He also became seemingly sceptical in retrospect about his past experiences with séances and the like. He explained away his vision of the Devil as being nothing more than a face he saw in cigarette smoke while smoking cannabis, a practice he later abandoned. His first marriage ended in divorce and, together with his next wife, he eventually went to live abroad. In the new century he has been invited to reunions. The photograph above was taken at one such occasion. Anthony can be seen standing next to his portrait which (out of shot) I am holding.

Anthony can be seen in the above photograph at Highgate Cemetery in 1970 with the person (far left, behind the gate) whose involvement led to a descent into darkness from which that individual would never recover. Anthony is by no means entirely undamaged from choices made unwisely four decades ago from which he has now thankfully disentangled himself.

Demoniac

2009-02-07T00:55:00.001-08:00

Demoniac: possessed, produced, or influenced by a demon: demoniac creatures; resembling, or suggestive of a devil; fiendish: demoniac energy; a demoniacal fit. One who is or seems to be possessed by a demon. Middle English demoniak, from Late Latin daemoniacus, from Greek daimoniakos, from daimonios, of a spirit, from daimon. The "before" and "after" descriptions of the demoniac reveal that he is a totally different person under demonic influence. It is something like the behavior and personality change in a man who is totally intoxicated. More than this, however, is the fact that the demoniac's own identity and individuality are swallowed up by the demons oppressing him. When Jesus asked the demoniac's name the man replied: “Legion, for we are many.” (Mark 5: 9).

"He told police that he had been in London since moving up from Weymouth in the previous year. Someone he had met while drinking in a pub allowed him temporary use of a bunker beneath a property in Archway Road. He heard people talking about a spectral apparition and claims to have seen it for himself as he passed the churchyard gate. ... Police have been investigating the possibility of devil worshippers in the area ..." ― Carmel: A Vampire Tale (2000), p. 31.

"I barely recognised him. Thinner than ever before, he sat hunched in an old archchair which served to prop him up, despite him lolling weakly to one side. His bloodshot eyes beckoned and I drew closer, but there was no movement throughout the rest of him. He was inert and so very pale. All his features were pinched. The poor chap appeared emaciated in the extreme; as though drained of all vitality and life. His eyes seemed like dead eyes as he attempted to say something. His voice was inaudible; so I moved closer to catch the soft stammers resounding on his bloodless lips. Eventually I heard the sad creature ..." ― Carmel: A Vampire Tale (2000), p. 32.

Calantha

2009-02-06T01:25:00.001-08:00

"Her eyes large emerald pools, yet with a puzzled expression ― so beautiful! Her flaxen tresses framing perfect features. She reminds me of her mother. I see so much of Carmel in her each day she grows. ... Her young face looked up at me. It seemed in that moment to contain the expression of my beloved Carmel when we first met more than thirty years ago. How strange life is. In our hot youth we cannot imagine the outcome of a chance meeting in the spring of our existence. Now my life feels as though it is in its yellow leaf and still I cannot anticipate from day to day what might happen. ... She must ge guarded with our lives. ... Calantha's flowers had already completely withered in just a small space of time, adding to the perfumed smell of death which seemed to linger everywhere. Scraping the coffin lid's opaque glass clear of debris, I lifted the candelabrum and peered through. ... A shudder of horror went through me. Then I lurched backwards; momentarily freezing to the spot as my heartbeat raced. A strange stillness hung oppressively in the air. Extinguishing the candelabrum and leaving it nearby, I made my way through rows of moonlit gravestones to the lane outside ..." ― Carmel: A Vampire Tale (2000), pp. 55 & 84.

Carmel

2009-02-05T02:03:00.001-08:00

In a novel (published in 2000) I recall this portrait's influence: “What I first noticed were here incredibly green eyes. Next her smile. Then came the golden glow of her hair, and the way the sun danced on those dark blonde tresses as they lifted and fell with each step. She walked with a bounce. Then those amazing eyes again ― eyes that would haunt anyone who saw them.” Carmel is based on someone I first met over four decades ago; someone who was lost and then found again; but finally lost owing to a set of unavoidable circumstances. Our penultimate meeting found me making the suggestion to write a book that would include her name and a little of our story mingled with the novel's plot. She was elated at the prospect. Yet neither of us could have known in that moment we would only meet one more time. Carmel is the result of that suggestion made long ago. Much of what is told in terms of the central relationship is accurate. It nevertheless remains a novel.

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An extract on which emotion pivots the moment of inspiration:
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“Something pulled me inside this room. It felt strangely comfortable. I touched the ivory keys. Drawn to softly caressing the piano keys, my eyes caught the reflection of the deepening sunset in the glass of a gilt picture on the mantlepiece. Still I played excerpts of a nocturne, then a sonata, then the haunting Shostakovich. Unreal light cast by the dying glow of the sun became subdued. I perceived a transfiguration. The previous glare gave way to the features of a face behind the glass in the frame which held my gaze. Was my imagination playing tricks on me? I stopped playing as I momentarily froze. The music continued in an unaccountable and almost discarnate manner. The melody must have been in my head for at that moment my heart was again captured by the image of a photographic portrait. I stood and slowly walked towards the mantlepiece ...”

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My novel is indebted partly to this photographic portrait (which I took at my studio many years ago) and, of course, the portrait's subject. There is also a CD of music referred to in the novel, plus a newly composed piece, where resonates the soft voice of the book's namesake. The CD's title is The Carmel Suite.

Caroline

2009-02-04T01:08:00.001-08:00

It was when perusing Newstead Abbey’s vast collection while still a child that I first made the acquaintance of the subject in this portrait. That distant introduction was a pencil portrait: a quarter-length drawing of a pensive fairy-like ceature with slightly downcast eyes. (See framed portrait immediately below). Mesmerised by this vision, a window seemed to open within my subconscious mind to rich colours lit by candelabras stuffed with melting candles, heavy brocades and tapestries, exquisitely decorated harpsichords, sombre paintings in large frames, dark oak furniture and reverberating, melodic strains from another time. Amidst all this came a ghostly female with rosebud lips, fawn curls and large, sad eyes. Momentary glimpses of Romanticism’s haunted realm where the flickering, wavering image glided in step to echoes from a tinkling, distant spinet, offered somewhere I would visit throughout my life thereafter — a primitive form of time travel. The identity of my apparition became soon apparent. It was Lady Caroline Lamb. My psychic portal grew faint as childhood innocence itself gradually eroded over the years, but later in life I renewed my acquaintance in becoming the biographer of Lady Caroline Lamb.* Lord Brocket invited me to Caroline’s country residence in Hertfordshire, Brocket Hall, and Lady Brocket entered into a correspondence where she told of a haunting at the Hall. In February 1992, Lady Brocket wrote to me about “a woman in the Ballroom” when her ladyship was playing Chopin's music on the ornate grand piano. It all seemed rather familiar ...

Caroline Lamb (née Ponsonby) was born in 1785, the fourth child and only daughter of Frederick Ponsonby, 3rd Earl of Bessborough, and his wife Lady Henrietta Frances Spencer, who was the sister of Georgiana Cavendish, Duchess of Devonshire. In 1805 she married William Lamb (later Lord Melbourne) against the advice of her parents. This childlike attitude is carefully reconstructed in the character of Calantha, one of the protagonists of her novel Glenarvon, whose strict religious principles and childish behaviour are at the origin of her extreme vulnerability. (Calantha is also the name of a character in my novel, Carmel, which is loosely rooted in fact). Caroline and William Lamb had three children, of whom only one survived, Augustus, who had mental problems throughout his life. Caroline met Lord Byron in 1812, first at Lady Jersey's Ball, where she refused to be introduced to him, and later at Holland House. Their illicit relationship lasted from March to November and was as intense as anything could be when Romantics meet.

The affair with Byron was also an evasion from the dullness of her matrimonial life. William kept her in what was virtually a silver prison, treating her as a child rather than a sensible and mature woman and mother. Her only past-time was reading, which, together with her extremely emotional attitude brought her to confuse reality and fantasy. Like many other female admirers of Byron, she had felt attraction for him while reading Childe Harold, which made her desperate to meet the author. Both the reading of Childe Harold and her liaison with Byron helped her to break the rigid codes of femininity and domesticity that had been imposed on her since her childhood. Byron inspired her to transform from the faithful, albeit docile, wife to the overwhelmingly passionate and desiring woman. The idea of a demonic Byronic hero was undoubtedly influenced by Caroline's widely-read Glenarvon (1816) and by her two other novels, Graham Hamilton (1822) and Ada Reis (1823), together with Gordon: A Tale (1821). There is also evidence that Caroline's works influenced John Polidori's The Vampyre (1819) and hence the Byronic tradition that derived from it.

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* Mad, Bad and Dangerous to Know: The Life of Lady Caroline Lamb (1992)

Exorcist

2009-02-03T01:48:00.000-08:00

PRAECÍPIO tibi, quicúmque es, spíritus immúnde, et ómnibus sóciis tuis hunc dei fámulum obsidéntibus: ut per mystéria incarnatiónis, passiónis, resurrectiónis et ascensiónis Dómini nostri Jesu Christi, per missiónem Spíritus Sancti, et per advéntum ejúsdem Dómini nostri ad judicium, dicas mihi nomen tuum, die et horam éxitus tui, cum áliquo signo: et ut mihi Dei minístro licet indígno, prorsus in ómnibus obédias: neque hanc creatúram Dei, vel circunstántes, aut eórum bona ullo modo offéndas.

These self-portraits were painted some three decades after my entering the Exorcistate (minor order of Exorcist) in early 1973. Included above is a photograph taken prior to an exorcism rite.

Keith

2009-02-02T00:57:00.000-08:00

Keith, introduced to me originally through Elizabeth, later became one of the twelve at the inauguration of Ordo Sancti Graal. On the occasion of my birthday five years ago he kindly gave me The Hours of Catherine of Cleves, comprising one hundred and sixty colour plates. When opening this book, the first plate to greet my eyes was Saint Michael Battling a Demon. A resplendent St Michael is locked in combat with a demon, who claws at his armour as he is pierced by the archangel-saint’s long cross-staff. Although both St Michael and the demon are winged, their struggle takes place on the ground. The patron saint of exorcists impales the demonic manifestation in order to remove it from our earthly plane. Such are the images from this most popular devotional book of the later Middle Ages.

Keith is pictured above during a visit last year to my private chapel. His hair was slightly shorter when I painted his portraits a couple of years earlier and his spectacles were noticably larger. A third portrait, not shown here, was presented to him on the occasion of his sixtieth birthday. The portrait which appears below combines emotions from forty years ago (the time of his harrowing confrontation with a situation where the malign supernatural held sway) together with a transfigured appearance more redolent of how he might eventually look.

In many instances, of course, such biographical analysis is unnecesary and not territory the artist should wittingly enter, but occasionally it is rewarding for those totally unfamiliar with the subject matter and the subject's background. Even so, paintings must speak for themselves. They should be more than just the sum of the parts. Something transcendental ought to manifest as oil greets canvas; something of the inner person.

Elżbieta

2009-02-01T01:22:00.000-08:00

The portrait’s focus is Elizabeth; not the vision to which she and her girlfriend were subjected. The expression in her eyes hints at the spectacle reserved for the two convent girls as they made their nocturnal return home past Highgate Cemetery. The inflamed mounds on her neck are indications of the malign supernatural at work. In fact, they were not apparent at the time of this unearthly experience. The portrait’s diabolical stigmata is a presentiment of terrible things yet to come. Elizabeth’s attire compliments the moon shadows with St Michael’s looming in the background. No crucifix can be seen around her neck. Tombs glow eerily under beams of dull reflection as the moment is frozen in time. Elizabeth Wojdyla’s name became synonymous with all she witnessed on that night.

Elizabeth photographed in the autumn of 1969. Revealed are two abrasions on her neck. Page 57 of The Highgate Vampire (Gothic Press, 1991) recounts: “I noticed for the first time the marks on the side of her neck … two inflamed mounds on the skin, the centre of each bearing a tiny hole.” Elizabeth and Barbara, two sixteen-year-old students of La Sainte Union Convent, were walking home late at night after visiting friends in Highgate Village. Their journey took them down Swains Lane which intersects Highgate Cemetery, a Victorian graveyard in two halves on a steep hill. These intelligent students could not believe their eyes as they passed the cemetery's north gate at the beginning of their downward path between the two graveyards. For there before them, amongst the jutting tombstones and stone vaults, the dead seemed to be emerging from their graves. The two schoolgirls walked in eerie silence until they reached the bottom of the lane. Here they spoke for the first time, having finally found their voice, and confirmed they had both experienced the same terrifying scene. So frightening was their experience that Barbara would not talk about it again. Elizabeth, however, gave me her account some months later. It was tape-recorded and can be heard in a television film documentary about the Highgate Vampire case. Elizabeth recounted: "We both saw this scene of graves directly in front of us. And the graves were opening up; and the people were rising. We were not conscious of walking down the lane. We were only conscious of this graveyard scene." I have tried to capture this moment in my portrait along with the demonry that later took hold on Elizabeth where her elocuted and very attractive feminine voice would suddenly erupt into a distorted masculine sound, deep and harsh, that issued threats. Her boyfriend recalled this phenomenon in an interview he gave for a documentary (True Horror: Vampires distributed by Discovery Channel) which also includes archive recordings of Elizabeth speaking about her vision and the puncture marks on her neck.

Lusia

2009-01-31T01:35:00.001-08:00

"Some years later I completed the portrait I had begun when we first met. It hung in a room where I liked to be alone, play music and write poetry; a room seldom frequented by anyone else." (The Highgate Vampire, p. 184).

I would attempt further portraits in the following century (see above), but these only seemed to manage to reflect the nightmare aspect of our history and very little else. Nothing I subsequently attempted would capture the beauty and truth contained in the brush strokes of my first impression on canvas, painted for the most part while she was still alive.

Though nothing can bring back the hour

Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower ...

Lusia

2009-01-30T01:34:00.000-08:00

This portrait of Lusia appears, complete with its ornate frame, on page 186 of The Highgate Vampire (Gothic Press, 1991). Earlier in the same book, I recall how "I sketched her face from a variety of angles. Seventeen years later I would finish the oil painting from memory." ― The Highgate Vampire (1991), p. 83.
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Lusia has never been identified by her real name and, until now, a photograph at the time of my knowing her has not been published. Sufficient decades have perhaps passed to permit one.
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“Among the many people who contacted me,” I recount in the first complete account of the case published in 1985, “was the sister of a beautiful twenty-two-year-old woman, whom I shall call Lusia.” A photographic model, and, much later, actresses, portrayed Lusia in representations of her in depictions of the mysterious events which came to be known collectively as the case of the Highgate Vampire. This decision was due to the tragic outcome and a very real need to preserve her identity.
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My initial discovery of her was one of sheer delight tinged with a terrible sadness which grew stronger until it finally eclipsed her. It would be within the sombre tones of an apt piece of music that she became enshrouded. I wrote: “Her cascading flaxen tresses caught the dull illumination of the moonlight in their pale reflection. Somewhere, in the background, I could hear the dying pulses of Strauss’ solemn orchestral work, Metamorphosen. It haunts me to this day.” Lusia was touched by what lies beyond earthly confines, and became part of the nightmare of hideous visions and visitations associated with Highgate Cemetery at that time. I glimpsed an indistinct figure toward the end, a figure swathed in a white cerement, her face the colour of marble save for her mouth, which seemed full and wanton. This was not the Lusia I had first known. It was something else. A shade of something that had been sucked dry of life. She nevertheless lives in the hearts of those who knew her and hopefully on the canvas from all those years ago. Her portrait in oils has been immortalised by a history in which she played a significant part. My style altered even during the years I added paint to canvas when creating this portrait and is today significantly removed from the period when I knew Lusia.

†

2009-01-29T02:23:00.000-08:00

“All these things happen, and the eyes of ordinary men do not see them.”

~ Michael Sendivogius (17th Century)

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