Multi-Story

 

All Images: Central Leicester, August 2023

In a return to the dense heart of the city, here's a brief meditation on one of my current favourite Leicester buildings. For many years, this ugly little charmer was a working motor garage (specialising in Italian marques - I believe). I was always impressed by it's ingenious use of space - making excellent use of a compact site tucked just inside the inner ring road. That tight, ramp/canopy arrangement is both a clever means to open-up the roof space to cars, and a geometric assembly of considerable aesthetic appeal. It's a building which seems to give a full account of both internal and external spaces simultaneously, whilst representing exactly the kind of unglamorous, functional Modernism to which my lens is often drawn.

It's no secret that I harbour a perverse fascination with urban car parking provision, and the ways in which it reveals the tense relationship between motor vehicles and the urban environment. Here we can certainly see that shifting economic conditions, along with changes in the ways that space is monetised within cities, have seen the site transformed from one in which vehicles might be maintained - to one in which they are simply left dormant. The building was clearly ideally suited to just such a change of use, but it is still one of the most compact 'multi-storeys' in a city that boasts several much grander (if distinctly dilapidated) period examples. 

Of course, the other reason for this building's visual appeal is there for all to see, in its multiple textual elements. The functional signage certainly tells a clear story about the financial  exploitation of territory, but it's the polychromatic graffiti which tells the real story about urban  opportunism. In the city, it seems, no space/edifice is sacred enough to escape the attentions of the aerosol enthusiasts. But this kind of 'unofficial' calligraphy is surely just another way in which space can be annexed. Such wild-style legends are simply another (less enfranchised) means to stake a claim on the urban organism in the name of a parallel culture, after all.

In formal terms, I'm delighted by the way many of the stylised characters adapt themselves to the geometries of the available surfaces - but even more so, by the way that the largest example simply refuses to be confined 'inside the lines'. Beyond the purely visible dimension (and with space inevitably at a premium in the inner city), it seems only fitting that the building should serve a dual purpose - as both parking garage and unofficial bulletin board.

Multi-storied indeed...

'The Annihilation of Time And Space: Embankments

 

All Images: Lincoln Eastern Bypass (Upper Reaches), July 2023

Summer steadily trickles away, and (as so many times before) I'm faced with the prospect of far too many creative projects simultaneously in play, and relatively little actual 'product' to show for any single one of them. Nevertheless, I'm also aware that yet more naval-gazing over such perceived problems is merely another distraction. Nobody imposes any of this on me - it's all cheerfully embraced, after all. And ultimately, having too many ideas, or feeling creatively over-stimulated, is hardly the worst problem.

It is a little baffling how quickly/easily a little clutch of photos - taken spontaneously in a particular location, one day, can blow-up into an ever-expanding, multi-layered potential project, requiring multiple return visits (and extended photo-editing sessions). However, this has to be preferable to feeling disengaged or uninspired in the final analysis. Without getting too existential about things, it must be better to check-out with a list of things still to do, than to merely wait for the end in a state of inertia. The days may continue to dwindle down, but a healthy to-do list might just be the healthiest form of distraction of all. In the Deleuzian sense, perhaps all that really matters is that we continue the process of 'becoming' until (perhaps even after?) the passage of time intervenes definitively.

Crikey! - that got philosophical pretty quickly. The intended function of this post is really just to highlight how the work goes on, and to look eastwards again, to the Lincoln Eastern Bypass, after having mostly been staring down the M5 to Bristol's Floating Harbour in recent weeks. The images here document one aspect of my most recent research trip to the bypass. Actually, I'm wondering if this might be the last such for a while, given that they serve to fill-in the missing upper reaches.

Over a period of around a year, I have now managed to collect images from the entirety of the Eastern section of the overall bypass, completed in December 2020 (this is the section still new enough to retain some kind of slightly 'alien' resonance within the landscape, and the one with the most personal/subjective significance for me). Certainly, there is now more than enough raw material to keep me tied-up for quite a while. In the interests of progressing things, it would seem only sensible to ease-off on the collecting phase, and move into the actually-doing-something-about-it phase. By coincidence, my Bristol-focused project(s) are approaching a similar point, I think. It feels like the Autumn/Winter months may see things start to coalesce a little more noticeably.

One obvious way in to that process is to start sorting the visual raw material into various categories (subject, motif, formal elements, thematic potential, etc.). That's clearly one way to avoid becoming overwhelmed, and to break things into chewable pieces. However, the cross-referencing of, and interplay between, such groupings is also often how the unexpected connections and significant correspondences may begin to emerge. The real key is to  avoid rigid pigeonholing, or trite logics, and to maintain fluid or porous boundaries. One clumsy analogy might be a process of ring-fencing in which all gates are deliberately left open (and vigilance is maintained regarding any productively wandering black sheep).

Consequently, in the interests of preliminary organisation, this little batch of images all fit into the category of  Embankments. Such artificially elevated earthworks are a major feature throughout this heavily engineered landscape, and they serve to delineate the new road's imposition upon the map. In some cases they represent a grand topographical statement, in others - a more modest barrier. Whatever the scale of any particular section, the embankments are muscular in their geometry overall - and also inject a range of dynamic perspectives into what is, at first glance, a supremely bland region. The more I become embedded within it, the more i realise I am often looking either up or down, and that this is as much a function of the embankments as the more general contours of the general  landscape. Passing vehicles are often raised above my eye line, or else I am looking down upon their roofs. It only serves to underline the separation between the time-perception of the motorist or delivery driver, and that of the runner, cyclist, dog walker, itinerant artist/photographer, or any individual  whose workplace might reside in the surrounding landscape itself.

The other features which particularly capture my attention amongst the embankments, are those endless serried ranks of desultory saplings, dutifully plugged into the earth within their plastic sheathes. I have no idea whether, in decades to come, these will be transformed into majestic stands of trees (the long-term goal is, I suppose - to provide some further degree of screening, or else some simulacra of organic woodland). However, in their current state , they simply seem to punctuate the sense of a profound disconnect between the agendas and demands of modern life, and any symbiotically meaningful relationship with the 'natural' world. One is even tempted to speculate whether they were simply programmed into the road scheme in fulfilment of some quota or other (is each one accounted for - I wonder?). Mostly, they just serve to remind me that, whilst green may be the dominant colour in these images, we are still inescapably in the Edgelands here. Indeed, the city is just out of shot in each case. The very disconnect mentioned above is, of course, the defining feature of such liminal zones.

Transport Update

 

Both Images: Bracebridge Heath, Lincolnshire, July 2023

Summer continues to dribble by in a somewhat underwhelming manner, and the supposedly productive school holiday interlude is already halfway done. Creatively speaking, work continues - but we're definitely in another of those 'not-too-much-to-show-right-now' phases. As was ever the case, too many projects vie for my attention simultaneously - but that is, of course, so much better than having no ideas or inspiration at all. 

That might also explain why my social media communications have definitely thinned-out a bit of late. Perhaps I'm just experimenting with the idea of not chattering away so much, unless there's actually something interesting to report (you know - like how we used to behave in previous, more analogue times). It may put me slightly at odds with twenty-first century habits, but it does at least free-up a little more time to prioritise more important stuff.

I'm not sure if this update on my personal transport options counts as exactly 'interesting', but it does at least have a bearing on my artistic endeavours in a fairly obvious logistical sense. Pretty much everything I make has its origins in the urban (or sub-urban) landscapes. That necessitates either putting myself into specific locations, and/or deliberately losing myself within a variety of cities, on a regular basis. Realistically, public transport and my slightly dodgy knees can only facilitate so much. Cars and bicycles therefore remain the most efficient means of accessing those moments of urban revelation on which I depend. This is the year I decided to update my existing options in both respects.

Like any un-garaged fourteen year-old vehicle, my previous car was starting to show its age a bit. Overall it had given excellent, economical (and mostly reliable) service, for what was once at the very bottom of Skoda's product range. Nevertheless, it was inevitably starting to cost more to keep on the road than the meagre resale value could really justify. Hence, bye-bye, old red Skoda Fabia - hello, much newer red (and black) Skoda Fabia. Ultimately, I'm not interested enough in the complexities of modern motoring to shop around different makes and models -  'stick with what you know', is my motto. The fact this is my third red Skoda hatchback in a row is purely coincidental, but it might suggest something was meant to be (if I was superstitious). Mostly, I'm just hoping this new one proves as dependable as the previous two.

Much as a car is valuable for covering the big miles, I maintain that a bike is really the most involving way to experience the urban landscape, once one is actually immersed within it. My existing mountain bike has proved a much-valued tool in that respect, and will even (at a squeeze) fit into the back of a Fabia. Nevertheless, a certain amount of scuffing (of both vehicles) as well as repetitive seat-folding, is inevitable in the process. What better excuse for a new  folding bike, to preserve the new car's interior? It's a bit of an indulgence, I'll admit - but I've coveted one of these funky little Bromptons for quite a while, and this one will just fold-up and fit on the back seat (or in the boot) far more easily. Theoretically, that should encourage me to drive to one city or another, then explore it more immersively on two wheels, on an even more regular and spontaneous basis than I can now. The resulting health/fitness benefits can only be a bonus too.

In reality, the mountain bike will always remain the preferable (and more comfortable) option over longer distances or uneven terrain, but these 'Brommies' are had to beat when it comes to compact portability. Either way, I'm choosing to regard it as an essential artistic tool, and thus -  far more than just an urban hipster's plaything. The fact that I am seemingly now also the bloke who only rides white bikes is also purely coincidental. It's the cheapest one they do - and they only come in white this year.

Finally, if you're wondering about the incongruously leafy venue for this photo-shoot (after all this talk of accessing urban terrain) - one terminal of Lincoln's Eastern Bypass is literally just round the corner. The Brompton had just carried me on another little expedition to document its upper reaches, before being folded back up and whisked-off home to Leicester.