The white lump at the bottom left of the MRI scan is a tumour of a rare type – Langerhans Cell Histocytosis. In this case of the daughter of Anthony Sargeant the tumour is in the bone at the back of the skull but about to penetrate the dura surrounding the brain – it is already pressing on the brain as can be seen in this image. We are grateful to Dr Rao Gattamaneni and his colleagues and neurosurgeon Mr Leggatt for their prompt diagnosis and intervention.
Photographed by Anthony J Sargeant on 13th August 2017 the butterfly is feeding on the Buddleia which forms a wonderful boundary hedge at his Shropshire home. The buddleia (known as the Butterfly Bush – not for nothing – it attracts hundreds of butterflies in a good season). There have been fewer butterflies this year – the weather has been rather cold and wet.
This photograph taken by Anthony J Sargeant in 2011 shows an archway in the ruined 12th century Cistercian Abbey close to Ironbridge in Shropshire. Although without a roof the basic structure of this magnificent church is intact. The Cistercian Abbey of St Mary and St Chad was founded in 1135 by Roger de Clinton, Bishop of Coventry (1129–1148) as a Savignac monastery and was inhabited by a small community of monks from Furness Abbey. The stone from which it was built was quarried in the nearby settlement of Broseley. The abbey was closed in 1536 by the order of Henry VIII during the Dissolution of the Monasteries.
Anthony J Sargeant took this photograph during an early morning bike ride along the Shropshire lanes close to his Home. In the distance is the Brown Clee Hill with mist still clinging to the fields below the top. The sun just clearing the horizon at 5.42am sends shafts of gold onto the field beyond the gate (27th August 2017, Shropshire, England)
Wonderful slightly Gauguin’ish etching by William Strang RA owned by Anthony J Sargeant (it is a First State Etching).
Strang was born in 1859 at Dumbarton, the son of Peter Strang, builder, and educated at the Dumbarton Academy. He worked for fifteen months in the counting-house of a firm of shipbuilders (William Denny and Sons) before going to London in 1875 when he was sixteen. There he studied art under Alphonse Legros at the Slade School for six years. Strang became assistant master in the etching class, and had great success as an etcher. He was one of the original members of the Royal Society of Painter-Etchers, and his work was a part of their first exhibition in 1881. Some of his early plates were published in The Portfolio and other art magazines. Strang was elected to the Royal Academy in 1921 and died suddenly shortly thereafter.
During his lifetime, Dumbarton-born William Strang (1859 – 1921) built up an international reputation as a highly skilled and imaginative printmaker, portraitist and painter. His diverse subjects ranged from the fantastic to the very real, including uncompromising depictions of contemporary life and the effects of poverty and social injustice, landscapes, subjects from the bible, bewildering allegories, and narrative illustrations. He was also a prolific and highly successful portraitist.
Anthony Sargeant bought this charming portrait of Laurence Binyon quite recently at auction. It is a drypoint of 1898 by William Strang printed by his son David Strang. Other examples are owned by the National Portrait Gallery, and National Galleries of Scotland.
Laurence Binyon was a distinguished English poet, dramatist and art scholar (1869-1943) He was Keeper of Prints and Drawings at the British Museum for many years but also held posts as Norton Professor of Poetry at Harvard University and Byron Professor of English Literature at Athens University among others.
He is probably best remembered today for the middle stanza of his poem, “For the Fallen” used in Remembrance Days services:
They went with songs to the battle, they were young.
Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;