Visibly Evident
Alison Revell-Huntley
Untitled (Dilemma), 2018

Perchance, you followed in some distant footprints across a ‘ruinstrewn land’. Your soul is ‘ruinstrewn’. What to do? What to think? Where to go? You have no voice.

‘he is still, he seeks a voice for me, it’s impossible I should have a voice and I have none’

You circled round, then branched off, tracing the line of the hedgerow through the snow. The air was crisp. The sky leaden, heavy as your heart. More snow on the way.

‘the eyes closed and the face rigid listening, the eyes hidden and the whole face hidden, that image and no more, never changing, ruinstrewn land’

Perchance, when faced with a dilemma, you come across an impossibly real phenomenon in the natural world, your mind can’t compute what your eyes are seeing.

It’s there, but how can it be?

You grapple to explain it, in a literal sense.

But the words prove inadequate for what the visual exposes.

The impossibly real becomes visibly evident.

Alison was born in 1955 in Altcloughfin, Ballygawley, Northern Ireland. She studied at University College London and the University of Leeds. Alison’s working life has been predominantly in Education, firstly in the Department of Maritime Studies, UWIST, Cardiff, as a Research Associate and Assistant Editor of the International Journal of Maritime Policy, followed by many years in secondary-school education and latterly fifteen years with Leeds Development Education Centre focusing on teacher training and raising awareness of global development issues. Alison has co-written several publications in this area, including Global Schools (2006); Educating for a Global Future (2008); and World Class Teaching (2015). Currently, Alison is affiliated to Open Source Arts in Leeds, where the work in this exhibition was first shown in ‘Alison Revell-Huntley, Crossing Points Exhibition’ (2018).

As a geographer and artist, Alison explores through her work the inter-relationships between people and place, including the interstitial.

All quotations referencing Fizzle No. 3, Afar a bird, Samuel Beckett, taken from Fizzles, S. Beckett (Grove Press, Inc. NY, 1976), pp. 25—7.