Lilian Jane Margaret Watkins (nee Lanyon)

In the early hours of yesterday morning my mother-in-law Jane Watkins (nee Lanyon) passed away. I knew instantly that I wanted to honour her life in some way even if it is through this humble blog post. I first met Jane in August 1999, just weeks after her 51st birthday. I was immediately struck by her no nonsense attitude and fiercely determined spirit. Seven years prior she had been diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease related to manganese poisoning. When I met her, she had a barely noticeable limp and she held her left arm across her chest but she didn't ever complain or allow it to slow her down or inhibit her life. She continued her life in that vain, even as the prolonged manganese poisoning symptoms began to take away her abilities to walk, talk and basically function. For a time, Jane continued to travel with her husband, my father-in-law Roy, and enjoy the simplicity of life. She could no longer do the things she loved most in all the world, her pottery and artwork. Over time the symptoms of her disease robbed her of the ability to sculpt and paint.

Jane came from a long line of Cornish artists, notably her father Peter Lanyon (read about him here in my blogpost written ten years ago). Her brothers Andrew, Matthew, Jo and Martin are also revered artists. I had the pleasure of meeting some of Jane's family when I visited the Cornish coast in 2006. I felt an instant connection with her mother Sheila and her nephews Arthur and John. Being able to see Jane's extended family and her beloved Newlyn through her mother's eyes, I became fascinated with the Lanyon family and began researching the family tree. However, I wish I had of asked more questions of both Sheila and Jane but both of them possessed a "look ahead" only spirit. I honestly felt that they would simply evade my questions and curiosity, not because of any sense of family pride or rudeness but from a standpoint that life goes on, look forward towards the future, and don't dwell or look back on the past.

For instance, when I first met Sheila at her house in Newlyn, she had a framed photograph of her late husband Peter resting on a table beside her armchair. When I pointed it out, admiring his youthful good looks, she simply waved her arm around flippantly and said "Yes, that's Peter" and said no more on the subject but got up to go put the kettle on. Sharing memories of Peter Lanyon were usually shrugged off and mentioned only in passing. I also personally felt that for Jane's sake, her father died as a result of injuries incurred from a gliding accident when she was just 16 years of age, so bringing him up in conversation might have felt almost too intimate for Jane. I remember only once she spoke about him at great length and brought out some books and reels to show me; she sat on the floor with me for a short time but then without another word, got up and left me alone to pour through them. She rarely said another word about her father to me, it was like the door had quietly closed leaving no room for loitering in the doorway but to swiftly move on and never look back. I respected that silent motion at the time, but I do now regret that I didn't ask her any more about her childhood.

One of my favourite photos of Jane in her youth.
This was taken around 1964.

Jane was a wonderful mother-in-law. She made no fuss, interfered only once in my bringing up of her grandchild, and she quietly doted on all of her friends and loved ones. She was always smiling, I remember the many times we visited her and Roy, she would usually always be in the kitchen pottering around, baking and cooking even though she was increasingly restricted in her movements. She rarely sat still, she just developed a natural shuffle to get about in her own way. She would laugh heartily too. I can hear her laughter in my mind even now, and in the months before her passing she laughed at Goon Show references and my rendition of "A Little of What You Fancy". And yes, she sometimes cried unabashed too, especially as the years passed and she grew increasingly frustrated and restricted.

I shall miss Jane profoundly. Her legacy is of course her artworks, her pottery and her paintings. But also her husband of 52 years, her two sons, her two grandchildren, her extended family in the UK, and her lifelong friends in Australia. I shall miss her smiling face, her cheery outlook, her infectious laughter. Thank you for being my mother-in-law for 22 years. Rest in peace. You fought a long, arduous battle and you did it with dignity and sober realism. It was a pleasure to know you and call you family.

For further reading on Jane's journey to uncovering more about her manganese poisoning and Parkinsonism please read this article.

Peter Lanyon : Cornish Artist

My husband's side of the family tree is rather intriguing and much has been researched on both his father's and his mother's sides of the tree. There are tin merchants, photographers, carpenters, musicians and composers, outfitters and tailors, farmers and pioneers, midwives and Indian Army Majors but one man became a well established name in Cornish history. My husband's maternal grandfather: Peter Lanyon the potter, sculptor, and painter.

One evening not too long ago, I was idly googling Peter for any new images or paintings and on the fifth or sixth line of results I discovered a photograph I had never seen before. It was taken by Ida Kar in 1961 and it's a really lovely shot of him.

There is so much expression in his face. I wish I could've met him.

I remember once listening to an old reel-to-reel audio of Peter Lanyon talking about his love of art and his heady youth in St Ives. Of all the things he said I will never forget when he responded to a question by saying, "I like cliffs. They're very tall...and thin." My husband and I still say that to each other from time and time and fall about laughing. Of course, Peter was referring to the view from his beloved glider. Imagine being an artist, looking for inspiration along the Cornish coastline. You would be absolutely spoiled for choice, and Peter used every opportunity he had to create masses of paintings, drawings and sculptures of Cornwall.

Peter loved each of his children and he took them with him on many walks and hikes around Cornwall, and he taught each of them to appreciate and hone their own unique craft. Today his sons are renowned painters, including Andrew Lanyon and Matthew Lanyon. I didn't get to meet Andrew during our 2006/7 trip to England as he was away in Japan but I did meet Matthew and I recall him being hilarious fun and great with my daughter.

George Peter Lanyon was born in 1918, one of two children born to William Herbert Lanyon and Lilian Vivian. Peter was educated at Clifton College in Bristol but St Ives remained his base and his first love however extensively he travelled throughout his life. As his love of art grew so did his ties with fellow artists Patrick Heron, Borlase Smart, Victor Pasmore, Ben Nicholson, Barbara Hepworth, Adrian Stokes, and Naum Gabo.

Peter at Little Park Owles Studio, 1955

From 1940 to 1945 he served with the Royal Air Force in the Western Desert, Palestine and Italy. In 1946 he married Sheila St John Browne. Peter and Sheila had six children (including my mother-in-law, Jane). Also in 1946 he became an active member of the Crypt Group of Artists, St Ives. During the 1950s he became established as a leading figure in the St. Ives group of artists.

Peter in his glider, c. 1960

Peter took up gliding as a pastime and used the resulting experience extensively in his paintings. One day in August 1964, on a training course with the Devon and Somerset Gliding Club, he came in to land too low; the glider nose-dived and catapulted him out. He died four days later as a result of his injuries. He grave slab carries and inscription from one of his own poems:

I will ride now
The barren kingdoms
In my history
And in my eye

The Returned Seaman, 1949

In The Trees, 1951

Chesil Bank, 1958

http://www.bbc.co.uk/arts/yourpaintings/artists/peter-lanyon

http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artists/peter-lanyon-1467