Work In Progress: 'Cement Cycle'

Work In Progress: 'Cement Cycle: Element 1 (Path)', Printed Dims: 29 cm X 29 cm, 2015

One of the reasons for my painting (and indeed, blogging) activities slowing slightly for a few weeks was that I split my focus between that and a photographic project, I’ve opted to call ‘Cement Cycle’.  When Andrew Smith and I agreed to collaborate on our ‘Mental Mapping’ exhibition, I knew I wanted my contribution to be a little wider in scope than solely painting.  I remain highly committed to painting, (or some kind of hybrid form of it), but there’s no doubt I’ve hankered to augment it with work in other media for quite a while.  This was stimulated, in part, by seeing how Andrew’s own practice took a variety of forms beyond painting - and depending on what felt most appropriate), when we both exhibited in a group show in Birmingham, in 2012 [1.].

Work In Progress: 'Cement Cycle: Element 2 (Path)', Printed Dims: 29 cm X 29 cm, 2015

Of course, regular visitors to this blog will know that I spend a lot of time taking photographs, but generally, I’ve only really regarded them as raw material, or a kind of visual diary, - rather than as artifacts in their own right.  I can’t fully explain this; perhaps its because, in an age of almost total photo-image saturation, a painting just feels more like a ‘thing’ with actual presence.   Anyway, the images in this post are the first that I’ve actually considered also putting on a wall as self-justifying pieces.

Work In Progress: 'Cement Cycle: Element 3 (Edge)', Printed Dims: 29 cm X 29 cm, 2015

Work In Progress: 'Cement Cycle: Element 4 (Edge)', Printed Dims: 29 cm X 29 cm, 2015

These ten images represent a selection of concrete or cement-based way-markers that I pass repeatedly on regular cycle commutes to and from my day job.  I often drive to work, but always enjoy those occasions when I can ditch the car and go on two wheels instead.  The alternative route(s) this entails are surprisingly verdant, and largely follow the general direction of the River Soar between the centre of Leicester and its northern periphery.  Just as my recent ‘Map’ paintings relate to relatively mundane local journeys, this alternative route is also very much part of my ‘mental map’ of the city.  As it happens, the source location for ‘Map 1’ and ‘2’, is a nexus of both a ‘Map’ route and my ‘Cement Cycle’ route.

Work In Progress: 'Cement Cycle: Element 5 (District)', Printed Dims: 29 cm X 29 cm, 2015

Work In Progress: 'Cement Cycle: Element 6 (District)', Printed Dims: 29 cm X 29 cm, 2015

The concrete features depicted range from the large scale and visually assertive, such as the cement depot, subway system and river crossing flyover, (which have all featured on this blog before), to the easily overlooked or eminently low-status, such as a section of waterlogged textured paving, or a solitary fence post.  Interestingly, I often notice how the most unassuming or easily overlooked features are those which ultimately impress themselves most on one’s memory of an habitual journey [2.].

Work In Progress: 'Cement Cycle: Element 7 (Node)', Printed Dims: 29cm X 29 cm, 2015

Work In Progress: 'Cement Cycle: Element 8 (Node)', Printed Dims: 29cm X 29cm, 2015

This is something pointed out by Kevin Lynch, an American M.I.T. Academic, whose publication, ‘The Image Of The City’ [3.], constituted a specialised guide for Urban Planning and Architectural Design students of the 1960s and 70s.  Andrew Smith suggested Lynch’s book to me, when we first started laying plans for ‘Mental Mapping’, and I quickly found much in it to chime with my own perceptions of the urban landscape.  Particularly interesting was Lynch’s central acknowledgement of the often highly subjective mental images that city-dwellers compile to aid their navigation of complex environments.  Part of this process involves the investment of familiar, often mundane physical features with emotional or atmospheric resonances far beyond their official status or utility.  Lynch went on to categorise these into five basic archetypes, or ‘Elements’, namely: ‘Paths’, ‘Edges’, ‘Districts’, ‘Nodes’, and ‘Landmarks’.

Work In Progress: 'Cement Cycle: Element 9 (Landmark)', Printed Dims: 29cm X 29cm, 2015

The images from my ‘Cement Cycle’, shown here, are organised in five pairs, according to the same logic.  Each of the versions exhibited will incorporate a text caption inspired by Lynch’s text – but hopefully leaving things ambiguous enough for more open interpretation.  I’m not revealing their content just yet, I’m afraid, - you can’t have all your treats before the actual exhibition.  Each printed image has been laminated onto plastic board; to be fixed flush onto the front of one of the cement blocks alluded to in my previous post.  This should give the illusion of a solid concrete projection when mounted on the wall in Rugby, (Rugby; cement - I’m sure I’ve been though all this already on several occasions).

Work In Progress: 'Cement Cycle: Element 10 (Landmark)' Printed Dims: 29cm X 29cm, 2015

Well, that’s the plan, at least.  I’ve already hinted at the fact that my fettling of the ten concrete supports wasn’t totally without its moments of friction.  Now I just need to satisfy myself that the printing company has actually made them the right size - at the third attempt…

‘Mental Mapping: New Work By Andrew Smith & Hugh Marwood’ will take place between Monday 8 June – Wednesday 17 June 2015, at Floor One Gallery, Rugby Art Gallery & Museum, Little Elborow St, Rugby, Warwickshire, CV21 3BZ.

[1.]:  ‘If A Picture Paints A Thousand Words, Why Can’t I Paint’, Works Gallery, Birmingham, November 2012.

[2.]:  As a Foundation Art student, still resident in my home town of Lincoln, I walked to college every day in the shadow of that city’s huge Gothic cathedral.  And yet, strangely, I retain memories of an age-worn handrail, or a particular dilpidated lamppost - at least as vividly as those of the massed cliffs of ornate architecture looming over me.

[3.]:  Kevin Lynch, ‘The Image Of The City’, Cambridge Massachusetts, The M.I.T. Press, 1960.