bunn (bunn) wrote,
bunn
bunn

Coombe Trenchard: Sculpture gardens and lies about age...

At the weekend we wandered over to Coombe Trenchard, which is mostly a Stately B&B.  But it was advertising a sculpture exhibition in the gardens, and I rather like to look at sculpture.   This wasn't part of the sculpture.  It was just some stone dogs guarding a magnificent gate.   Try and guess how old this place is.  I'll tell you at the end.

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Here's some official sculpture.  It had a name, but we instantly christened it the Two Bums.
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The gardens are beautiful, even though the azaleas and rhododendrons were over.  Swallows were swooping over the croquet lawn catching gnats.  Philmophlegm, seeing me point my camera, confidently told me:  'you'll never catch them, you need special equipment'.  Shortly afterwards, he said: 'Oh'.

Why yes, I am smug.

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Here is Pp apparently considering a trip through the arch into an alternative universe.  There was a lovely well in the foreground here.  Neither were Officlal Sculptures.  They are just Random Garden Stuff.
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It is the Season of the Foxglove.  Here's a sculpture among the flowers.  I quite liked the series of sculptures from this artist, which were all along these lines and had a lovely sense of movement to them, although they were rather rough to the touch. I do like sculpture to be tactile (which the Two Bums certainly were).
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Here's the house.  They were serving teas on the terrace, which could not be resisted, even though it was not sunny.   The teas were a little slow to arrive, as they seemed to be being prepared and served largely by the owners of the house unaided, but I could cheerfully hang about on that terrace most of the afternoon.
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My Mum and Pp admire a giant dice, called, if I remember rightly, New Orleans, and made of reclaimed lead from church roofs.  I think it was probably my favorite of all the sculptures.
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We did not bring Brythen and Az, as Az was having rather a wobbly day and needed to take it easy (and I can't leave him without Brythen, his Sighthound Security Blanket). My mother brought her ancient whippet Flash though, who sat on his bed on the terrace looking very regal.
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Despite its lovely Tudor-ish chimneys, vaguely Italianate tower, hand-made-looking glass and general air of timeless elegance, Coombe Trenchard was apparently built in 1909.  I had no idea until I looked it up.  What a lovely piece of masquerade.
Tags: garden
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