HS2 – Goodbye to Farthing Hill

photo-export_export

As you get older every now and then you become aware that perhaps there are less days ahead of you than are behind you.  Usually such thoughts can be brushed aside without too much concern.   Last week was one of those occasions only this time it is just a little more difficult than usual not to face my own mortality.   This sound very dramatic and at one levels it is, perhaps even self indulgent.  Nonetheless I have embarked on a project that I might never see the end of.   I have decided to document the impact of the proposed construction  of the HS2 line from Birmingham to Leeds as it effects the village where I grew up in – Measham

As I reread this it really does sound over dramatic, after all it is far from certain that the HS2 project will be completed and if it isn’t this is going to be just so much hot air.   However, if it does go ahead then it is planned to be completed by 2033 which means this documentary project won’t be finished until I am starting to enter my latter years.   Again we seem to be living longer and longer so perhaps by 2033 I’ll only be considered to be in my middle age.   Perhaps.   The other alternative is something that few of us want to dwell on.

So the first plan of action is to decide exactly how to document the development?   The plan at the moment is to pick certain points along the proposed line (the circles shown on the map of the route) and visit them from time to time to see how they are changing.  Initially I am thinking I will visit once a month or so but this is very much dependent on other circumstances.

The next question is what type of images am I going to make?   I have decided to try and make the images as close to the type of images I made of the same spots when I first took  up photography in the days that Kodachrome 64 ruled the roost and I would walk the fields and lanes with my brother’s Zenit E.  (This was replaced by a Practica – oh the joys of communist powered cameras using the archetypal capitalist film stock.  I did use Agfa film stock as well but that is another story)  This may be a bit nostalgic but that is how I am going to approach things to start off with at least.   Of course there is a second set of images that are not being displayed publicly at the moment:  the raw images I have captured from which I make the images I use as part of the project.  Over time these images may become more important than the images I make for the project but until then I think the best thing I can do is catalogue them and leave it at that.

farthing-hill

Farthing Hill

 

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Four Lanes End

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Gate, Bosworth Road

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Seat, Canal Towpath

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Red Bank

gate-at-brickyard

Red Bank

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View from Ibstock Cottages

So should the HS2 line be constructed then none of these view will exist anymore:   Farthing Hill and Four Lane’s End will be destroyed by a cutting almost 10 metres deep;  The Gate on Bosworth Road is situated on top of another cutting and probably marks the centre of the of the cutting;  The temporary seat will be near to where the viaduct will start to take the railway line across the River Mease;  The line of that viaduct is roughly the line of the poplar trees in the first Red Bank image;  The second Red Bank image would be directly underneath the viaduct which at this point will probably be the height of the buildings and  finally the view from Ibstock cottages gives an idea of the wider impact of the line as those house will be blighted as they will be in the shadow of the Mease Valley viaduct and the wind turbine in the distance will have to be demolished to make way for another deep cutting.

These images are different from my usual production in one further way, they have a narrative value.  Most of my images usually are random collections of instances I have come across whilst going about my life.  These, however, tell a story and will be part of a permanent record of the destruction and renewal of a village that most people bypass but which was where I spent the first 20 or so years of my life.

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Some say you’ll go to purgatory….

dead-leaves trees-in-park tv-aerials walking-under-the-trees

Perhaps there is a special place in hell for photographers who play around with reality in their images – well if that is so then it is going to be very full indeed.   A few years ago when I was making an awful lot of wildlife images I was forced to walk a very tight line of what was deemed to be real as defined by the organisers of competitions, exhibition etc.   None of them seemed to accept that all photography is an artifice and so doesn’t recorded reality but rather what the photographer chooses to show as real.   If you don’t believe me then just ask yourself why you choose one image over another when making an image.   Of course with the advent of digital photography and the ubiquity of Photoshop has placed extra burdens on what is and what is not a real record of what happened when the shutter was realised.  Photojournalists have to pass through the seven levels of hell to just to prove their image is genuine and I understand the reasons why – however, all reporting is biased and so are all images: one person’s attack on a hospital is another’s destruction of a terrorist cell, it all depends on your point of view.

So what has this rant at the world got to do with these images?  Well none of them would have passed any subjective test as to what is and what is not ‘real’ and I don’t care about that.  I now make images that appeal to my personal sense of what is and what is not an interesting image.  None of my images are real in any sense and I am quite happy with that which I guess is in keeping with this post truth world we seem to be heading towards.

Everybody is worrying where they’re going when the whole thing is done indeed.

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No one knows for certain…

clarkson

Disregarding the probable blasphemy of the opening episode of The Grand Tour the reality of it was that it had the feel of someone trying to prove a point.   A discarded lover who tries to get their own back by dating someone who is 10 times better than their previous lover – only of course to discover that such measures are pointless when the only place you really want to be is snuggled in the arms of the lover who has cast you aside.

Of course now they have lots and lots of money, although that wasn’t the problem last time.  What Clarkson, May and Hammond don’t have is any love.  Instead they have created something that is soulless.  Gone is the understanding between them and their audience, indeed there was one part of the first episode where they tried to educate their American audience but to no real avail.   Gone are the reference to a ‘  Evo at Donny..’ or ‘..Onix in Surrey…’   Gone is the Stig to be replaced by something that isn’t even close to a caricature and possibly sums up the whole problem with the Grand Tour.   They just want to be back on Top Gear so badly that it hurts so very much.   There is nothing new and so the same old formats are being recreated, this time by lawyers so that they can’t be sued by their previous employer.

Will I watch again?  Of course I will in the vain hope that the show might pick up, the sparkle might be found once more.  But I watch more in hope rather than expectation.   If the Sun is be believed, fill in your own prejudice here, then the viewing figures have been fantastic and perhaps to a worldwide audience  the very British, no Englishness of their time at Top Gear has been lost.   This, of course, is of no concern to Amazon so long as the take up of Prime increases.  However, I suspect that for all their bon hommie Clarkson, May and Hammond would rather be in a drafty aircraft hangar outside Gilford rather than travelling the world in a tent which looks like it came from the TV series MASH, no matter how much richer they are now.

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I’ll be there for you

joan-the-baptist

What to write about yesterday’s woman?   The best President that America didn’t have?   I’m sure that is what she thinks but now we’ll never know.  Instead we prepare for what promises to be a rollercoaster ride of falsehoods and broken promises.   Of course this description could just as easily be applied to any Presidency it is just that Donald Trump gained the Presidency by turning barefaced falsehoods into an artform.  I think there are two big problems that a President Trump is going to face:

Firstly, he is going to find it very very difficult to deliver on all the promises to all the struggling families who hope that he can make their lives better, even just a little bit.   The President of the United States whilst being hugely powerful on the world stage domestically has massive checks and balances preventing him from enacting what he wants.  An example of this is the ‘Safe City’ movement that many of the mayors of America largest cities are using to potentially block the President of the United States’ wishes;

Secondly, as President Truman was so fond of saying – ‘…the buck stops here…’   I am not sure whether this has sunk into the President elect’s consciousness yet with all the talk of him living in Manhattan and using his own aircraft rather than  the less gaudily appointed government supplied, combat ready, aircraft.   He may be able to farm out a lot of the work of the Presidency to other people but only he will receive the dreaded 3am call.   After all he will be the Commander in Chief and he will be blamed when operations go wrong and people die.   That is not a party political point but rather  a statement of fact – just ask Hillary Clinton about Benghazi.

So here we are waving goodbye to the Clinton dynasty and  welcoming in the Trump dynasty with all the little princelings dancing around the new King trying to catch his eye.  I rewatched Wolf Hall recently and the one thing that struck me – just how similar the court of Henry the 8th seemed to be to that of Donald Trump, minus of course three wives. The only difference is that Donald Trump has many heirs and spares as well as an Elizabeth or is that Bloody Mary to boot?  Oh what it is to live in interesting times.

wolf-hall-001

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Conkers shining on the road

conkers-shinning-on-the-ground smoke-gets-in-my-eyes

So that was Storm Angus, the first winter storm of the season.   Thankfully for us in fly over country things don’t seem to have been too bad with most of the action happening elsewhere.

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All Alone

breaking-down

Two things happened this week that really proved that the world has moved on.   The first was the first speech that Hillary Clinton made after her defeat.   I haven’t got a clue what she was saying but she is now in the heading of forever being an also ran.   We will never know whether she would or would not have been a great President and we have all moved on.

The second thing was the visit of President Obama  to Europe for a NATO summit.  Usually something like this would have been the main news but it was regulated to the middle order – almost under the heading of ‘…and in other news…’.  This is a shame but he really is so last year because he no longer is the future.   He will still have unimaginable power at his disposal until 20th of January next year but the world is now turning to a new sun.   I can’t believe that I am about to write this but Donald Trump and all that entails is the future whether we like it or not.   I somehow don’t think that Frau Merkel will be so starry eyed about  him at the next NATO summit.   Nor should any of us be.

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Under the shadows

evening-in-picadilly nightime-in-picadilly-01 nightime-in-picadilly-02 nightime-in-picadilly-03 walking

One of the things you tend to forget about London is that you have to walk an awful lot.    Yes you could take a Taxi but you would miss so much.   Yesterday, my friend David and I spent most our time in the Tate Britain and the Royal Academy, taking the tube between the station and the venues yet we still managed to walk almost 10km (This is per my Apple Watch which is actually quite accurate).

London really is a city state apart from the rest of England and Britain.  Many British people hate going there because of this but I find it energising and vibrant.   I’ll give you one example…whilst waiting for our train home at St Pancras we sat in the Starbucks and watched the world go buy.   As I waited to collect the over priced coffee I watched the Starbucks staff going about their business and I was struck by just how multinational they all were….it was much the same for the people sitting around in the store itself.  Now, of course, St Pancras is slightly unusual in that it is the Eurostar hub but there was an energy there which is really lacking from other major European cities – for this I am using the very very unscientific methodology of travelling to other European cities on the Eurostar and its connections.   This is one of the reasons why I find it really difficult to take seriously all these so called threats and inducements from other European cities to try and lure businesses away from London after Brexit.   They city is much more than its constituent parts and London has a soul that I don’t think can easily be recreated in Frankfurt, Paris or even Berlin.   Only time will tell if I am being self delusional.

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Oh what a lovely war

oil-sketch

As we are remembering the suffering of the first world war I thought I would spend a few minutes making a quick sketch of one of John Singer Sargent’s  marshall portraits.

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Charnwood… a final pass thro…

east-goscote gravestone spring-time woods

I am getting towards the final phase of preparing my book on the Playground of the Midlands project and I thought I would have one final look at the images I captured to see if there were any others I could use and I came up with these four.

I am also putting the final touches to the introduction and I think the current draft of the final paragraph just about sums things up as far as I am concerned:*

…a series of images made in the Charnwood Borough District council area.   They have  a temporal and spatial coherence but little else.  They are reflections of the area but have no deeper meaning  other than images I made whilst walking around the area in 2016…

  • Note to editor:   These will change as I redraft my draft.
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Vigilant

skip-to-the-end

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