Plaster Panels

Work on the Great Hall at Balintore Castle continues apace. There are 5 internal window structures in the room. Each of these consists of 3 glass panels at the top and 3 blank plaster panels at the bottom.

Joe, the plaster, is currently repairing the plaster panels. You can see today's repaired plaster panels on the right and the panels awaiting repair on the left.

So while this is "small beer" compared to the large amount of new plaster work required in the Great Hall, it is still another step forwards.

In an old photograph, each set of three plaster panels is covered rather clumsily in a Paisley tapestry-type fabric, which looks to my eye like an after thought to make the blank panels look a little better. The panels are there to balance the form of the external windows.

Anyhow, my plan is to make a feature of these 15 panels, which form essentially 5 triptychs, to give them intention rather than their current troubling design passivity i.e. what are those for?

It is not a huge leap from a triptych to a work of art, so keep following the blog for, fingers crossed, some novel artistic creativity. :-)

repairing the plaster panels

Late Winter Snows

Little did I expect, that when coming back from Edinburgh to Balintore Castle this morning, that I would find myself in the middle of a heavy snowstorm. While it is the 5th April by the calendar, the weather is dragging us back into winter. Admittedly, the snow had started to melt by the time I took the photo below (10:54AM) and it had mostly all gone by the end of the day.

snow on the 5th April 2024

Yesterday in Edinburgh was bright and sunny. The contrast with today at Balintore, was all the more marked as a result. Watch out for a future blog post on the castle-related trip to the Big Smoke. :-)

The winters in Angus are never over until they are over, and you must never take it for granted that the cold claw of winter will not come back again for one final swipe to keep you on your toes.

You can see the daffodils on the castle terrace have not yet opened. These were planted many years ago by my friend Andrew and myself. Some of the daffodils in the grounds have opened in less exposed spots. I recall one year, where Spring and Summer were rather damp squibs, that we still had daffodils flowering in July. Obviously, we will be having a brilliant Summer this year. :-)

Dwang Noo Sark Efter

Construction of the replacement big turret is proceeding apace in the Great Hall. The dwangs, or horizontal cross braces between the vertical struts, are now in position.

I asked Gregor if it made more sense to fit the dwangs once the skeleton of the turret had been reconstructed outside i.e. less to dismantle. However, he indicated that fitting the dwangs is a footerie, time-consuming process, so he would prefer to do it indoors.

However, Gregor stopped at installing the sarking, or external sheeting, indoors, even though it has been cut, because being a surface layer it only has to join up with itself and so is less troublesome to fit outdoors.

Anyhow, the turret will be marked-up (tab A into slot B) and dismantled tomorrow into IKEA flat-pack format. Hence the timely photo below, recording this key stage of the construction process.

with dwangs but without sarking

Keen students of the Scots dialect will observe that the title of this blog entry is fully Scottish.

Sarking is legally required in Scotland but not in England. I got quite a surprise when I climbed into my first English loft, and was appalled by the flimsiness of construction. The tiles were nailed onto thin batons instead of being laid onto an entire and complete wood-sheeted surface.

English readers will be more familiar with the term "noggin" rather than "dwang". And finally: I manage to secrete another Scottish dialectal word into the text above. What is it?

Terminator Pheasant

 

There is distinct loss of status in admitting that one has been held hostage at home by a marauding pheasant. But as ever in the world of Balintore, the unbelievable is the reality.

I decided, rather late in the afternoon, to set off on my daily walk. As I descended the steps at the front door of the castle, a pheasant ran at me from around 50 yards away stopping right in front of me. If I stepped down to ground level, there was no doubt it would attack. Shouting and waving my arms had no effect. It simply was not going to leave. Even as I attempted go sideways, first to the left and then to the right, it continually blocked my path.

It was check-mate, and I retreated indoors incredulous that my walk had been aborted even before it had begun by a  bird. I would simply try again later in the day, but darkness fell and the walk never took place.

The next day, thank goodness, there was no sign of the pheasant. However, 100 yards into my walk, the pheasant ran right up to me. I tried to go forward but it continued the menacing behaviour. I felt in great danger from its claws and beak.

There was no escape, as I tried to leave the path at a 90 degree angle it would run to block my exit, parading backwards and forwards in front of me with its chest puffed up.

I was looking for something to defend myself with, and after what seemed like an eternity, I located a longish stick. As the bird came in to attack, I held it at bay with the end of the stick. However, it came at me from different angles and I had to wield the stick like an epee, to stop it coming too close. I was not sure I could keep this up. I continued down the drive, but the pheasant gave no slack, mirroring my every move. The fear and adrenaline had kicked in, and the stick was becoming less and less effective as the bird became bolder

I really did not want to hit the pheasant with the stick - well it was more of a twig actually. Eventually, I had to swipe the stick with a degree of force to keep the bird away. It looked a little surprised but continued to come in for the kill, like the terminator on a relentless mission. My stick had disturbed the bird's feathers so it looked rather bedraggled on that side.

It was locked in mortal combat with me all the way down the castle drive - this is 1km long! Why was it not giving up? It then continued its attack along the road which goes past the castle, still homing in on its target, and it was only when I got past Balintore House that the distance between us increased and it disengaged.

I knew I could not cope with this every day, and wrote a letter of complaint in my head to the local estate during the remainder of the walk. Given that they had stocked the grounds with this evil creature, it was their responsibility to deal with it.

The following day, I spotted some bread on the stone walls either side of the front door, so asked friend of Balintore Simon who was working at the castle, what this was all about. "I'm feeding the pheasant." he said, "It's really friendly!". I lost it at that stage and exclaimed rather too forcefully "Don't feed that creature!".

Anyhow, thankfully I have not had an unpleasant pheasant encounter again, but have spotted several pheasants who turn their evil eye towards me during my daily walk. I am of course maintaining eye contact and wondering "Is that him, and will he attack again?".

When male pheasants fight, they are so engrossed that they are oblivious to everything else. I recall a pair fighting on the castle drive. I had to stop my car, and I knew if I had not stopped I would simply have run both of them over.

Obviously, the pheasant was in this attack mode with me, and nothing would have deterred it. I suspect even if I had hit it really hard with the stick, it would not have stopped. Was it the yellow coat I was wearing i.e. a bit of a orangey pheasant colour? The only other explanation was that it was trying to mate with me, but I do not think his intentions were amorous. Some years back, a Spanish visitor to Balintore Castle got attacked by a pheasant a number of times. It was pretty serious. She was wearing a red jumper.

To capture the essence of something, one often plays the three words game. For a pheasant, these are beautiful, stupid and er, delicious. :-) They truly are the stupidest creatures and have the least road awareness of all: less than a baby bunny - and that is saying a lot. :-)

Amazingly enough, sheep though classically stupid, have pretty good road sense. They are not great at getting out of your way in the best direction, but they do at least try to get out of the way. Pheasants virtually stand in the middle of the single track roads round the castle saying "kill me now".

The "pheasant as terminator" illustration was the best I could do with an AI image generation engine (fodor.com) before my free trial ran out.

Great Hall Windows Installed and Building Big Turret!

Yesterday, Gavin and Gregor finished installing the new windows in the Great Hall. However, as I was rushing off to Dundee late afternoon, I did not have time to register the fact or indeed record the moment. However, I was able to take a photo today, and of course to put things in context, I have supplied a "before" photo from the 18th January.

before window installation: 18th January 2024

after window installation: 27th February 2024

Light coming in from the outside transforms the space so totally, that I have not come to terms with it yet.

In fact, in the "after" photo, you can see Gavin and Gregor working on the next project which is rebuilding the castle's biggest turret. Believe it or not, they are building it as an IKEA flat-pack, so it can be unscrewed, broken apart and then finally reassembled outdoors. The base ring has already been flat-packed and then reassembled as a test.

New Great Hall Windows

Great Hall window installation progress 15th February 2024

 
We have now installed two out of the eight new Great Hall windows. On the north exterior wall there are five tall window openings. Today and the yesterday, we reinstated the windows in the extreme right-hand opening and the extreme left-hand opening, as you can see in the photo above. Considerable natural light is once more entering the Great Hall, and it is a good feeling.

The central three openings will be glazed the week after next, as my builder Gregor will be in Sheffield next week. These are still boarded over in oriented strand board (OSB), though some years ago we created a small glazed opening at the bottom left just to let a little light into the room.

Much more light will be let in when we install the three new windows in the exterior wall facing east, but we are taking things a step at a time.

The original windows were sash windows, with a 1/3 sash at the top and a 2/3 sash at the bottom. However, these replacements which are notionally temporary are fixed panes of 1/3, 1/3, 1/3, but we have copied the design of the original windows closely, so they look more or less the same from the inside and the outside.

We matched the exterior window colour closely ("Peat" in British Standard 4800) and the interior window colour closely as well ("Mexican Tan" in British Standard 4800). The Mexican Tan appeared alarmingly bright when we first painted it on, but applying a "wet finger" to surviving areas of paint showed we were actually on track. Over time, the existing paint job has dulled due to light and weather exposure, though in sheltered corners the original paint is much brighter. 

In fact, the original interior paint job is oak graining made up of two shades of brown, and the "Mexican Tan" matches the composite effect from a distance. To my eyes, there is yet a third shade of brown used in the Great Hall, which is a plain almost gold colour. This is used on stone and plasterwork, but as we are just dealing with the windows for now I have managed to avoid panicking about matching the gold. :-)

As I was gazing at the Great Hall today, my mind drifted and the stages of the scaffolding along the walls became the galleries of a galleried coaching inn or the galleries of the Globe Theatre, and I could envisage a performance taking place within the room. The space coming alive like this was a thrilling prospect. Will this ever happen? :-)

Art Deco Lantern

Ever since purchasing Balintore Castle 17 years ago, I have kept an eye out for suitable lighting for the Great Hall. Light fixtures that are large enough to balance the volume of the room, only turn up only very infrequently, and then they go for enormous sums of money. I have missed out on so many occasions, that I had essentially given up. 

Then on 11th October last year, some massive Art Deco lanterns were to be sold at auction. These were precisely the style I absolutely love. So much so, that I might be prepared to bid that little bit more. There were a variety of light fittings not just the lanterns. Of most interest were a large lantern perhaps 66" high, and then a single super-large lantern 96" high by 40" wide.

large lantern

super-large lantern

The auction was timed which means that the sale ends at a certain time. However, if a bidder bids within the last 5 minutes then the ending time is extended by another 5 minutes. Bidding for the large lantern seemed to go on for ever: a game of stamina and attrition and I eventually pulled out. Then the super-large lantern came up for auction: a new game of stamina and attrition that also seemed to go on for ever. I presumed the super-large lantern would go for more than the large lantern, and I was not prepared to go that high, but I kept my nerve and continued to bid. Finally, 5 minutes had elapsed since my last bid with no other bidders left in the game, and much to my surprise I won the super-large lantern.

I also picked up a pair of smaller Art Deco chandeliers.

pair of chandeliers from below

pair of chandeliers from side

The provenance of the lights is fascinating. They had come from the Newcastle Odeon a 2,602 seat cinema in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, which opened as the Paramount Theatre in 1931 before being purchased by Odeon Cinemas in 1940. During the 1960's and 1970's it was also used for pop and rock concerts. The cinema closed in 2002 and stood empty until being demolished in 2017.

The aesthetic question is whether a 1931 lantern suits an 1860's space? To my eye the fit is astonishing: the heavier ornament of early Deco resonates with Victorian detailing. This is in contrast to later Deco or "Streamline Modern" of the 1940's which consists of geometrically pared-back "space age" curves. Of course, I may be biased.

The light fittings come without their original glass which I guess was a sad victim of a rough reclaim procedure. I was careful to buy lights which were not totally reliant on the glass component, and where the replacement glass could be inferred from the form.

One of the photos on the auction site shows the large lantern populated with glass which is the best guide to its reconstruction.

super-large lantern in situ

The pair of chandeliers could have had six flat form-fitting petals, or perhaps six curved larger, more flamboyant petals. I guess some experimentation is called for.

My builders tell me the large lantern takes 62 light bulbs. How much power must this have used, and how often must the staff have been up a ladder to change the ever-blowing Tungsten bulbs?

Anyhow, I picked the auction lots up from an architectural reclaim yard in Wolverhampton where I had never been before. I stayed overnight in an AirBnB to break up the journey. The madness of redecorating the Great Hall! :-)

And finally, some photos which show the glory of the former Odeon in Newcastle-upon-Tyne.