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Christmas, Lincoln 2019

  This weekend, it’s the Christmas Market in Lincoln. I rarely go into the city at this time but yesterday I did. It’s the usual mayhem – and this was just on a Saturday morning, I’m told it’s much more crowded when it’s dark- with thousands of people puffing and panting their way from the lower ground at the bottom of the city, up Steep Hill – and it is – to the Cathedral Quarter at the top of the city. I walked down the hill against the flow. The crowd was that dense it was difficult to pass. The castle and the asylum grounds were open and were filled with the usual Christmas market stuff, tat and tacky gifts, mulled wine with a side order of fast food. I’ll give you that the surroundings are very special with the 1000 year old cathedral as a backdrop. And yes, at night I’m sure it provides a very special experience but, it all seems like a senseless waste of money. I was talking to a Big …

Barristers. Lincoln Castle.

Lincoln castle sits high on Lincoln Edge, overlooking the city. Within the space created by the  Norman curtain wall defences of the castle there is an early Victorian Prison, now disused, and a building housing Law Courts. The law courts are still in use. It’s not at all unusual to see prison vans delivering those who are about to be put on trial lined up, within the walls, at the back of the law courts. It was a sunny day towards the end of September 2019. I was walking the circuit along the top of the castle wall. Looking down into the castle I saw a couple of Barristers discussing a case, probably with their instructing solicitor. PDBarton Lincoln 2019

You have to be there very early.

The Taj Mahal is one of the most beautiful buildings in the world, except perhaps, when it has swarms of tourists all over it. Sue and I were there at the end of 2007. We arrived in the extreme cold and dark of an early morning. Abhishek had got us out of our beds saying “you have to be early”. As the sun came up the Taj appeared from the obscuring still mist, The rays of the sun glinted off pieces of pieces of semi precious stones inlaid into the dome. It was a truly wonderful experience. Shortly afterwards masses of tourist appeared, all vying to sit on the “Lady Diana” bench to get a selfie with the glorious Taj behind them. The moment was lost. Yes these images are touristy, but that’s what we were, simply tourists. Just two amongst the throng. And would I have missed it? Not a chance. Exquisite and wonderful. PDBarton Lincoln 2019  

All change, yet again.

I was in Birmingham last week, the city of my birth. And just to remove any confusion, I’m talking of Birmingham in the West Midlands of England. Every time I visit there has been change. The city seems incapable of standing still for just one minute. Perhaps that’s how it should be, afterall, Birmingham is known as the driver behind the industrial revolution of the 18th and 19thC. and was for many years, the home of manufacturing in the UK earning it the aphorism of “The City of a Thousand Trades”. It’s not an old city. Its growth, fed by the industrial revolution, came as a result of hundreds of thousands of ‘immigrants’ from the farming communities in surrounding counties. My own forebears on both sides were “Aglabs”, agricultural labourers, from Staffordshire, Warwickshire, Gloucestershire, together with true ‘immigrants’ from Ireland. Birmingham is a crucible, and always has been. With that growth comes continual change. As a reason for change, added to that of growth, is development – in the shape of technology, working methods etc. …

Our rosy coloured past. Hmmm.

This picture is of a house in front of one of the gas holders at Saltley Gasworks in Nechells, Birmingham. The image was taken in the late 60’s. I was born just a couple hundred metres from here, within sight, or more accurately within ‘Smell’ of the gasworks. My dad worked there after he came back from fighting with the Desert Rats, Montgomery’s 8th army, in second world war. What’s more, those gas holders were nearly the death of him. He fell off one and survived, but that’s another story. This image is a picture of my youth. Although my parents moved to the newly built council estates out in the suburbs, many of my relatives lived in or around this area. I would return often as a child. What this image made me think about was just how much of a product I am of the social and political thrust occurring after the 2nd world war. I am the product of the time and of the policies of Labour, the  political party in power …

A note to the artist.

I visited an exhibition of photography in Hull yesterday – 5th October 2019. Amongst the work there was a large display devoted to the work of Tristan Poyser. In this intriguing piece Tristan explores the concept of the Geographical / Political border between Northern and Southern Ireland. The line has been a contentious issue for many years and with the Brexit issue (where Southern Ireland will stay in the EU and Northern Ireland – being part of Great Britain – will potentially leave the EU ) inflaming debate once more. Tristan travelled the line over a period of a couple of years photographing as he went. Unlike County and National lines in, say North America, the lines are not straight, twisting and winding as they do. Tristan handed out images he had taken and asked people to rip the images along where they thought the border may be. The effect was to produce a large number of public interpretations of the border, many annotated with what they thought about the connected issues. The main part …

Fairground attraction 1970’s

Back in the late 1970’s, I would wander around my home city of Birmingham, camera in hand. At the time it was all Black-and-White work, self-developed and printed in a makeshift darkroom. I had different cameras to choose from, nothing exotic. I used twin lens reflex and 35mm. These images were from my 35mm camera probably on *400asa film hence the grain. *(I must check as I have the original negatives somewhere) The images below were from a sojourn to an impromptu fairground, many popped up like this around the city. This one appeared in Hay Mills, adjacent to the A45 near to Small Heath.