Above you see a detail from the piece we made for Daphne's Glove called, 'Tanbury Phenda Dreams of Flight'. As with the other artists' project pieces, the progress and development of this work has been charted on A Group Gathering's website. You can read more about the frustrations and techniques used to make the Tanbury piece HERE , HERE and HERE
To celebrate the opening of the exhibition we thought you might like to know the story of how Tanbury Phenda became trapped in her tower. This is an original story by Kathleen Murphy (as are all of the tales which emerge from the Applewood / Murgatroyd & Bean) to accompany the Daphne's Glove piece. It is part of a larger story which will one day be published.
If you are sitting comfortably, we'll begin... Tanbury Phenda Dreams of Flight
"Tanbry, Queen doe of the Phenda tribe, gazes far, far across the top of sharp, dark firs to the heather spotted moors where her tribe wander free. Tanbry’s imprisonment is a result of her kindness. Taking pity on the twist-spirited Elvog whose leg was caught in a crag, Tanbry pulled the witch to safety and bravely, for none of the Phenda ventured there, carried her into the caliginous deep of the forest where the hag lived. Once inside the forest the witch's pain and spite rewarded Tanbry with a curse - to be trapped inside a tall, windowless tower for forever and a day. Tanbury’s freedom to roam the moors cruelly taken.
The curse proves too strong to break, though over the years many have tried. Some respite came in the form of a passing west wind, who, on hearing of Tanbry’s plight, blew through the bricks of the tower creating a window and turned the surrounding thorn bushes into verdant vines. Offering hope that one day Tanbry may be rescued. Each Spring the vines sprout small gloves, a symbol of Tanbry’s helping hand and a thorn in the deep buried conscience of Elvog reminding her of her wicked deed.
For now, Tanbury continues to gaze from her window watching the Merlins and Short-Eared Owls pass by, wishing for wings so that she may fly to her freedom and feel mossy bog, soft beneath her hooves once more."
copyright. Kathleen Murphy