Let There Be More Light 1

It was all about the light today...

West Leicester, February 2015

National Space Centre, North West Leicester, February 2015

(With thanks to Pink Floyd).

Working Methods 1

This will be mine.

All mine, I tell you.

All Images: Northgate Street, West Leicester, Going Home Time, February 2015

With a little more help from gravity.

Completed Painting: 'Map 4'

'Map 4', Acrylics & Paper Collage On Panel, 60 cm X 60 cm, 2015

I beat my small, self-imposed deadline and got four of these ‘Map’ paintings finished during January, (just).  This one, predictably enough, is ‘Map 4’.  At first glance, this relatively bread-and-butter approach to titling might seem like a bit of a cop-out, (could be worse; - it could just be ‘Untitled 4’), but many artists will report that titling paintings is often one of the most perplexing parts of the whole process.  I notice that it’s something my friend and fellow painter/blogger has been thinking about recently too.  In the case of these ‘Map’ pieces, I decided that my use of fragments of found text provided enough clues towards possible interpretation, without the need for me to over-emphasise things further.  My tendencies toward tightening every last nut and bolt, or leading the viewer too forcefully by the hand, are things I always need to be cautious about.

Parker Drive, North West Leicester, December 2014

Clearly, this one could easily be called ‘Point’ or ‘Anywhere Else’, or indeed, ‘Point Anywhere Else’, but to be honest, it might just as relevantly be entitled ‘Asda/Co-op Painting’.  Salvaged, and observed poster materials advertising both supermarkets provided the most of the collage elements of the piece and, indeed, their respective corporate identities were the trigger for the analogous green palette that prevailed throughout its evolution.  For what it’s worth, ‘Anywhere Else’ is lifted from Asda’s poster, and various areas of greenish half-tone pattern originate with the Co-op.  ‘Point’ comes from a completely separate text fragment, also found in the field, and also, very much about the power of green.  I’ll leave it up to any audience the painting may have to decide what, if anything, those phrases might imply, or whether they belong together or are a mere random conjunction.

Parker Drive, North West Leicester, December 2014

As in all of these ‘Maps’, the cartographical element relates to a specific location where advertising poster raw materials were collected or documented, and here we’re back on the junction of Leicester’s Blackbird Road and Parker Drive, which also featured in ‘Map 3’.  In the post on that piece, I mentioned that my regular car journeys through this location are often part of an actual routine supermarket run.  The self-reflexivity of all this is something I really enjoy about these current paintings, although it’s slightly compromised by the fact that I’m more likely to be on my way to Sainsbury’s than Asda or ‘The Co’.  I’m equally ambivalent about the merits, or otherwise, of all these big concerns, although Sainsbury’s have better underwear and a wider selection of magazines; plus - their aisles are wider and less congested.   I could argue that  it also signifies that I’m using the advertising for my own ends, rather than being led by it. I’ve effectively just done an advert for Sainsbury’s though, so I'm sure I’m just as lost in the retail maze as everyone else [1.].

Anyway, I digress.  One thing this painting does signify, along with the other ‘Maps’ so far, is the gradual reintroduction of more heightened colour into my current work.  There had been a tendency for things to become increasingly muted, or even monochrome, over the last year, but my current tendency is definitely to up the chromatic saturation a bit more again.  Ironically, the more muted quality of recent work may have been, in part, due to my heavy reliance on the found printed material of late.  We tell ourselves that the world of all pervasive advertising is a technicolour one, and yet, I consistently find that the printed colours I repurpose are actually much duller than my own acrylic pigments.  Add to this the effects of degrading, low-grade paper stock,  of weathering and street grime [2.], and the overall effect can become surprisingly muddy or greyish.  Maybe this is just one reason why advertising companies seem intent on gradually replacing paper posters with illuminated screens.  The constant imperative  to capture our attention must make the unrivalled visual impact of coloured light, and perceived technological advance, irresistible [3].

Of course, all that urban grit and entropic evidence is all something I normally relish, and finding ways to handle it can be highly enjoyable.  However, it just feels like time for the paintings to start singing a little more as synthetic concoctions in their own right again.  In reality, I think there’s still a strong element of grunge in these pieces generally.  This recourse to colour does mean that a greater proportion of paint is actually creeping back in, and that I’ve also returned to my old habit of augmenting my palette with fluorescent pigments, (as in the street map element here).  The use of self-consciously non-organic colour in the urban environment is always of particular interest to me.  For all the grime and Midland-grey [4.] skies which may accompany my repeated visits to these locations, I’m equally struck by the vivid plastics and industrial surfaces coatings that adorn many of the commercial buildings I pass amongst.  At this point, it’s worth noting that the block of green occupying the lower right section of this painting is a reference to the corporate identity of a Fitness Centre, whose location is also included in this section of street map.

Blackbird Road, North West Leicester, December 2014

Yet again, I’m uncertain just how successful this painting really is, but there’s no time to worry about all that right now.  Of the four ‘Maps’ produced so far, this one was the trickiest to resolve, and felt slightly in danger of dragging on a little.  I think it’s as good as it can be for now, so it’s definitely time to move on.  I’ve plans to get on with a couple of larger ones now, and need to get motoring if they’re to make meaningful progress during February.  All this self-imposed urgency and setting of little deadlines feels quite strange for me, but it seems to be working so far.

[1.]:  Don’t do as I do folks, - bin off these big companies and buy your pants and groceries from the market, or local independent outlets, (if you still have any).  There, - I’ve redressed the balance a little.  (Actually, shop wherever you can be bothered, - it’s none of my business).

[2.]:  Much of the poster material I salvage is picked up from the ground after it’s detached itself and fallen during heavy wind and/or rain.  The sheer weight of accumulated paper applied with soluble adhesive, means there is a tipping point from which the posters can no longer resist gravity and inclement weather.  They’ve normally already been through the wars by the time I get hold of them.

[3.]:  I’m reminded here of both Walter Benjamin’s meditations on the resonance of illuminated advertising, and of David Batchelor’s writing on the same subject.  I’ve blogged about this more than once:

Walter Benjamin, 'One Way Street & Other Writings', London, Penguin Modern Classics, 2009

David Batchelor, 'The Luminous And The Grey', London, Reaktion Books, 2014.

I’m also forced to concede that I may soon need to take more account in my work, of the fact that the world of analogue materiality and associated physical entropy, in which I am so invested, is increasingly being replaced by a more virtual/digital version of ‘reality’.

[4.]:  I’m reminded that there was once even a bus company called Midland Grey.  Talk about rubbing our noses in it!

Completed Painting: 'Map 3'

'Map 3', Acrylics & Paper Collage On Panel, 60 cm X 60 cm, 2015

Here’s ‘Map 3’, - the third of my current crop of ‘Map’ Paintings to reach completion.  They’re still coming fairly thick and fast, which is pleasing and proves that the groundwork I put in just before Christmas is currently paying off.  I’ve completed four of these at the same size and in the same vein, this month, - with another, of different dimensions, under way.  Unusually for me, I’m actually finishing stuff faster than I’m blogging about them!

As discussed in my recent posts about ‘Map1’ & ‘2’, these have been specifically produced with June’s ‘Mental Mapping’ exhibition at Rugby Art Gallery & Museum, in mind.  Of course, it’s impossible to tell exactly which will make the final cut, (or how much other work may accompany them), but all I can do for now is keep striking why the iron is hot.  I’m far too close to really assess the quality of this work, but I believe in it and am enjoying producing it.  I also now realise that one of the key functions of any exhibition, is for the artist to get a little more perspective on things, once they are talking to each other from someone else’s walls.

The general comments about, and descriptions of, my two previous ‘Maps’ still apply here, although it’s worth mentioning that this one relates to a different geographical site.  As before, it’s another place where fallen advertising posters were harvested, to subsequently form the collaged basis of the piece.  In this case, it’s the junction of Blackbird Road and Parker Drive in Leicester, - just a little north west of the city centre.  If the preceding two pieces related to a junction I usually traverse on foot or by cycle, I most regularly pass this way by car, - either on my way to my day job, on a routine supermarket run, or to the nearby large, orange DIY warehouse.

That last destination highlights another level of self-reflexivity, as most of the board, timber, nails, etc. used to make my painting panels, and all of the PVA adhesive in which my work is drenched, come from that very outlet.  I have it in mind that at least one of the coming pieces might make even more specific reference to that site.  It’s fair to say that, after innumerable repeat visits over the years, I now have a pretty vivid mental sub-map of the car park at B&Q!

North West Leicester, December 2014

In this case however, the colour scheme for the piece derives largely from the premises of a car components company which overlooks the junction from a slightly elevated position toward the end of Parker Drive.  This is typical of the kind of incongruous, deeply mundane landmark that has actually become a significant, (even subjectively resonant), way-marker for me on this regular journey.  The ‘Counter’ text also originates from the side of the same building, where entropy has brought about a seductive fragment of red-on-red ghost text.  ‘Bought For Cash’, was lifted from a second-had car lot a few metres further along Blackbird Road, and was a phrase that just felt far too pointed to ignore.  The two legends seemed to complement each other pretty well, without being directly linked.

North West Leicester, December 2014

On a pretty obvious level, they might allude to the idea that to move through a modern city is to pass through a totally quantified, commodified environment, (hardly an original observation, I realise).  The very posters that provide raw material for this work are, of course, a clear physical manifestation of that.  Increasingly, it seems that idea of commodification extends to pretty much every aspect of our very lives, and I suppose it’s no coincidence that I should most regularly pass that way on my way to buy stuff, or to exchange my valuable time for the cash needed to buy even more stuff.  As ever, I can spoon-feed potential viewers these (not very sophisticated) ideas, but would really rather they found their own interpretations, if the paintings are to really live.

What I do know is that my current preoccupations seem more than ever tied into the idea of achieving some subjective reclaiming of what The Situationists termed ‘The Everyday’ [1.].  If their own agenda was ultimately one of Marxist revolution, my own is perhaps rather more one of bemused observation.  However, I am very attached to their original notion that only through a personally constructed, and deeply subjective relationship with everyday existence, might we find ways to transcend the prescribed drip-feed of Capitalist Spectacle.  Finding new magic in nominally mundane locations is, by now, a well understood strategy for achieving this.



[1.]:  Raoul Vaneigem, 'The Revolution Of Everyday Life' (Original Title: 'Traite De Savoir-Vivre A L'Usage Des Jeunes Generations'), Paris, Gallimard, 1967

Interzone 2 / Friars Mill Update

Friar's Mill, West Leicester, January 2015

This is a companion piece to my recent ‘Entropic Gates 2’ bulletin.  It draws most of its images and observations from the same chilly, early January stroll, which triggered that one.

Friar's Mill, West Leicester, January 2015

My walk took in part of the district of Leicester near my home, which I’ve sometimes seen described on maps as Blackfriars.  Although long since absorbed into the city, and subsequently into the large St. Nicholas’ parish, it was once a more clearly defined quarter, just outside the city wall and centred upon the Dominican Friary for which it was named.  It’s an area I pass through repeatedly, and one which has appeared in numerous images and posts on this blog in the past, (whether tacitly acknowledged or not).  It definitely features significantly in my own ‘Mental Map’ or ‘Image Of The City’ [1.], and it pinned at one edge by the Northgate Street/Sanvey Gate/Soar Lane junction featured in some of my current ‘Map’ paintings.

'Map 2', Acrylics & Paper Collage On Panel, 60 cm X 60 cm, 2015

I wrote a post entitled ‘Interzone’ some time ago, which detailed some of the qualities of dilapidation, degeneration and neglect that characterise much of the neighbourhood, and the way that layers of Leicester’s economic and industrial history might be read through its streets and buildings.  Any Medieval identity is now negligible, apart from the occasional street name (‘Holy Bones’ being a particular favourite).  In recent times, the prevailing theme has been one of ever-diminishing backwash from a 19th or early to mid 20th century manufacturing heyday.

Friar's Mill, West Leicester, January 2015

Perhaps the most obvious signifier of this is the old redbrick hulk of the Victorian Great Central Railway Station and its adjacent truncated viaduct and guano-encrusted bridge.  The original station building and the arches behind, now house a series of small businesses, mostly of the car fixing/spraying/bashing variety and it’s not unusual to catch the whiff of cellulose on the air as one passes [2.].  More than anything else, these enterprises seem to characterise the ad hoc, peripheral opportunism of much of the zone’s current economic activity.  Visually and tactilely, there’s more than a little of the grungy, ‘Mad Max’ [3.] aesthetic about many of them.  They seem redolent of the urge to make the best of a bad job amidst the relics of Leicester’s (indeed Britain’s) once, much grander commercial heritage.

Whilst the idea of peripheral ‘Edgelands’ [4.] has had much currency in recent years, I am equally engaged by those areas of cities that, whilst they may be quite centrally situated, seem to be lost in space or time between more prosperous or populated quarters.  Often, it feels as though the city is holding its breath in such places, or that time has slowed enough for gravity to reassert itself and for more organic, less driven, processes of transformation to unfold for a while.

Railway Arch, West Leicester, January 2015

I didn’t lurk long enough in the freezing, murky conditions to photograph the arches this time, but I was intrigued by the appearance there of a new business, seemingly of the property management variety.  It seems particularly incongruous in its vaguely aspirational presentation, but may be a significant clue to the changes possibly about to overtake the area.

Railway Arch, West Leicester, January 2015

A more obvious signal of change is the huge construction crane that now dominates the whole area from a long-cleared site a few hundred metres from both the arches, and the graffiti-augmented gates already discussed.  It was to this that my lens was next drawn and, in particular, to its sparse geometry, (ever the formalist), and the way its jib almost disappeared into the rapidly descending mist.

Construction Site, West Leicester, January 2015

A few years back, during the pre-recession boom in property prices, stylish ‘Urban Living’ and the Blairite vision of a Café Culture Britain, this whole area seemed likely to disappear beneath a welter of glossy new apartment blocks. In the event, only one was actually completed and has stood rather forlornly on its canal side plot, ever since, amidst the surrounding dereliction [5.].  There were also rumours of a planned monster tower of glass on an adjacent site, but that hubristic scheme seemingly evaporated, along with much else from the period.  Instead, what have been built in Western Leicester, in ever-increasing numbers, throughout the entire period, are student accommodation blocks.

Construction Site Crane, West Leicester, January, 2015

Mostly, such edifices have so far proliferated a little to the south, clustering around the massive elliptical tower I wrote about some time back.  More than anything, they seem to symbolise De Montfort University’s [6.] reinvention of itself as a huge property corporation/lifestyle facilitator that does a little educating on the side.  I suppose they also signify the oft-trumpeted shift from a manufacturing economy, to one based on knowledge and services.  I was bemused some time ago to discover that Blackfriars, and indeed, the neighbouring, traditionally working class area that I myself inhabit, were to be absorbed into something now redesignated as the ‘DMU Square Mile’.  Whatever else this might imply, on the ground - the reality would appear to be the onward march of the student apartments.  This is exactly what is now being constructed on the site from which the huge crane rises.

Student Accommodation Block (Under Construction), West Leicester, May 2012

Once upon a time, many students inhabited shabby terraced houses of the type I still live in, and were, if only partially, integrated into a neighbourhood [7.].  There was still, (just), the possibility of some form of bohemian lifestyle, however self-deludingly imagined.  The future would seem to be one in which they gaze over the rooftops from insulated, Wi-Fi-enabled hutches, whilst most of their needs are met and controlled by their academic parent institution.

Friar's Mill, West Leicester, January 2015

Ultimately, as the remaining light reverted to the spirit-sucking grey that only a January afternoon in the Midlands can really achieve, the majority of my photographs concentrated on another site that has appeared here more than once, - namely Friar’s Mill.  As already described, this splendid waterside factory building had stood empty for several years before being gutted by fire in 2012.  Dating from the eighteenth century, and with it’s mellow red brick, attractive proportions, and lantern-topped pitched roof, it was once one of the prime landmarks of Leicester’s industrial and architectural landscape.  In my time in the city, I’ve witnessed it degenerate from a working factory, to a vacant haunt of rough sleepers, Urban Explorers and graffiti artists, and then a roofless, boarded-up shell.

Friar's Mill, West Leicester, January 2015

If, as it now appears, a second wave of attempted gentrification is to wash over this portion of Blackfriars, a new iteration of Friar’s Mill may be at the heart of it.  It is currently enveloped in scaffolding and wrapped like a Christo art project, (the visual impact of which was actually what attracted me back for a closer look).  Signage and idealised illustrations on the perimeter fence suggest that it is about to be both restored and reimagined as a small business centre.  I have no idea how all this will ultimately alter the area as a whole, and Leicester is certainly full of sites where entropy and picturesque neglect still wash up intriguingly against over-optimistic or misplaced attempts to construct a shiny new future [8.].

Friar's Mill, West Leicester, January 2015

Much has been written on the phenomenon of urban gentrification, and how the adoption of an area by artists, ‘creatives’ and other generally funky types often precedes it.  Once the planners, property investors and marketeers notice, it’s usually only a matter of time before the low rents (essential) and organic grunge appeal (desirable) that created the situation, are sacrificed to something far more generic, over-designed and, of course, investable.

Friar's Mill, West Leicester, January 2015

For all that, I can’t really claim that Blackfriars is currently any kind of freewheeling creative cauldron [9.].  There is one small commercial gallery, and a recording studio nearby, but otherwise, the artistic activities in the area may not extend far beyond a few graffiti enthusiasts, and myself wandering around, inexplicably photographing stuff falling apart.  That’s probably why I like it so much really.  It seems likely that the tenor of at least part of the area is likely to change over the next year or two, but to just what extent is hard to say.  I suppose I could mourn the loss of yet another entropic playground, but the more constructive course would probably be to just get on with monitoring the processes of change.  Ultimately, I want my own practice to be about finding imaginative/subversive ways of responding to the shifting situations that actually arise, - not just about trying to preserve my own derelict comfort zones in visual aspic.

Friar's Mill, West Leicester, January 2014

Postscript:

Your eyes don't deceive you; I went back to take a few supplementary photos, under much more favourable illumination, as this post unfolded.

[1.]:  Kevin Lynch, ‘The Image Of The City’, Cambridge MA, MIT Press, 1960.

This book is currently informing some of my own relationship with my urban surroundings, although perhaps not entirely in the ways that the author originally intended.  I’m sure I’ll be referring to it again in the near future.

[2.]:  Another, somewhat incongruous, influence on the general ambience of this area, is the regular sound of gospel singing and enthusiastic preaching from the Pentecostal church that operates from a dilapidated street corner building.

[3.]:  George Miller (Dir.), ‘Mad Max’, Kennedy Miller Productions, Australia, 1979: ‘Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior’, (As Above), 1981:

George Miller & George Ogilvie (Co-Dirs.), Mad Max 3: Beyond The Thunderdome’ (As Above), 1985.

[4.]:  The setting for much of J.G. Ballard’s dystopian vision, and also eulogised in:

Paul Farley & Michael Simmons Roberts, ‘Edgelands: Journeys Into England’s True Wilderness’, London, Jonathan Cape, 2011

[5.]:  It can be seen, complete with its gimmicky, green, waveform roofline, in the background of a couple of these shots.

[6.]:  Formally Leicester Polytechnic.  I am myself an alumnus of both Leicester and Bristol Polytechnics, and always enjoyed the idea of being a Poly student, and of a higher education that might equip one with practical as well as academic skills.  Some would argue that the haste with which all such institutions sought to rebrand themselves as Universities, (with all that implies), is just one of many misguided steps taken by the British education system in recent decades.  Would that a mortar board and hired robes were enough to signify a well-rounded graduate.

[7.]:  Although not always without some friction, it must be admitted.  (Notice I just avoided saying “In my day”).

[8.]:  Leicester’s civic motto, ‘Semper Eadem’, translates to ‘Ever The Same’).  Paradoxically, this seems to be both accurate and inaccurate in equal measure.

[9.]:  In fact, Leicester has made attempts to construct some kind of ‘Cultural Quarter’ elsewhere, in recent years.  Whilst not without its attractions, (Curve Theatre, Phoenix Media Centre, etc.), this feels only partially successful, to date.  Certainly, it is something far more self-consciously imposed from above and lacking any true foundation.  I do question just how much it has really impacted on the lives of most of Leicester’s inhabitants, and the question of what exactly constitutes ‘Culture’ is a whole other essay.  In fairness though, some interesting old buildings have found a new lease of life, and at least one dynamic new one been created, in the process.