Coventry in 2007
Images from Coventry cathedral 2007
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Mysterious structures in the woods
Despite being locked down for months, in fact, probably because of it, I have tried to get out and about in the privacy of local woodland. Yes I see people but Bess, the Labrador, and I give them plenty of room. Over the past few months somebody enters the woods and builds structures with fallen pieces of timber. I’ve never seen the builder. It’s very mysterious. Never finished, never covered with tarpaulin or canvas, these structures seem more about art than do about shelter – well they do to me anyhow. PDBarton 2020
Urbex at Nocton Hospital
As you may be aware, in the second world war Lincolnshire was home to many airfields. So much so, a specialist RAF hospital was set up near Lincoln in the sleepy village of Nocton. The village had already housed a similar set up during the first world war which had taken over the ancient Manor House and grounds. The Hospital was expanded during WW2 so as to provide medical support for the many RAF and USAF airmen stationed across the County. Post war, the hospital was again expanded to provide a more general medical support for the growing number of RAF families in Lincolnshire and beyond when, amongst other changes, the maternity unit was constructed. My wife’s family were RAF and indeed my mother in law was treated there and one of my brothers in law was born there 60-odd years past.
Proverbs 21:13
This image was made underneath the arches of the 16thC Stonebow in the centre of ancient Lincoln, in the East Midlands of England. Before Covid it became the natural haunt of an ever-changing group of Jehovahs witnesses; capturing – or hoping to at least – the attention of the thousands who pass by on their way from downhill Lincoln, the commercial part of the city, to uphill Lincoln, where the Cathedral and Lincoln Castle stand, the tourist part of the city. Thousands of tourists and local shoppers pass through here everyday. Once upon a long time ago, amazingly, motor buses did the same, long since stopped. This day, a homeless man and his dog sat under the historic shelter too. In the time I stood there, several minutes, the pious Jehovah’s Witnesses, with their scrubbed shiny faces and their clarion – and yet ironic – message of “Find Family Happiness” paid him no attention; cast him ne’er a glance; certainly they didn’t offer him or his dog any comfort. There seemed something utterly at odds …
Harry Burton. The man who shot Tutankhamun.
In late 2017-early 2018, The Collection – a modern extension to Lincoln’s Usher Gallery – held a small exhibition of the photographs of Harry Burton. Who? You may ask. The Story of Harry Burton. Without doubt Burton, himself an Egyptologist, was considered the finest photographer of antiquities of his day. It was natural, therefore, for him to be chosen by Carter as the photographer who would document the excavation of the tomb of Tutankhamun in the Valley of the Kings near to Thebes – modern day Luxor. Harry Burton – on the left of the picture above – is shown with Howard Carter at the dig site in the Valley of the Kings. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Who was Burton? Where did he come from?
The meaning behind ‘The Greenhouse’
Recently, I was musing on the relevance of images to each of us and how that changes from person to person. People see an image and it means different things to each person. The image effects them. To some that effect is deep and meaningful, visceral even, and to others it’s trite and meaningless. I can’t account for that except it’s perhaps what allows us to “edit” the millions of images we see, into piles – important/trivial, like/dislike – and I have to say, in the main, that’s how my own editing works. Binary. On / off – like / dislike. Phil Cosker, a dear friend of mine, a photographer, writer and all round Renaissance Man, produced a set of images nearly 40 years ago. Recently he displayed them – printed very large – in a number of churchyards around Lincolnshire. Even more recently he has included them on his web site <<<HERE>>> under the title “Landscapes”. I was assisting Phil with his web site at the time and as I was uploading the images, …
The little cares that fretted me…
Out in the fields. Original by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. My apologies for the corruption. The little cares that fretted me I lost them yesterday, Among the fields above the sea, Among the winds at play, Among the lowing of the herds, The rustling of the trees, Among the singing of the birds, The humming of the bees. The foolish fears of what might happen. I cast them all away Among the clover-scented grass. Among the new-mown hay, Among the husking of the corn, Where drowsy poppies nod Where ill thoughts die and good are born— Out in the fields with the dog. Then the snarling farmer barks, “Get Off My Fucking Land” And breaks up the reverie. PDBarton May 2020
Immunology.
With all the talk about Covid-19 and immunology washing around I was surprised to find a family connection of sorts whilst carrying out some family research. Some of my forbears, on my grandfathers side, are from around the Berkeley area of Gloucestershire. So what, you may ask? The founding father of immunology, Edward Jenner, was from Berkeley and whilst researching my forbears I came upon the record above. It is the actual frontispiece of the register of Baptisms, Marriages and Burials from the small town of Berkeley in Gloucestershire. Many of my forebears are in these records. I don’t normally start at the very front, and I’m guessing not many others do either, but this time I wanted to see the full record. That’s where I discovered this note. For those of you who do not know, Edward Jenner was the local doctor/surgeon. He is credited with the popularisation of immunisation. You can see in this document a note dated 1795 by the curate, William Davies, to the effect… “ In the spring of the …
Book Review: An Inner Silence.
Book review Title: An Inner Silence: The Portraits of Henri Cartier-Bresson. Authors: Forward by Agnes Sire. Introduction by Jean-Luc-Nancy. Publisher: Thames and Hudson. 181A High Holborn. London WC1V 7QX. ISBN: 0-500-54317-8. The book draws images from the permanent holdings of the Collection of the Foundation Henri Cartier-Bresson. The book generously features 97 tritone reproductions of Cartier-Bresson’s works. “The true portrait, (is) one in which the subject represented is not caught in any action, and does not even show any expression that might detract from the person themselves…” …writes Agnes Sire the curator. That clear phrase captures the essence of Cartier-Bresson’s portraiture. There is a naturalness to the images together with a deceptive ease. The images are not contrived, neither does the sitter fill the frame. No, the subjects are generally in their own apartments, galleries, studios etc, which become part of the image; frames them if you like, and so becomes as much of the portrait as the sitter. I don’t know if the sitters were posed and directed. I suspect not. They may well …
A tale of coffee and a great postman.
I have a confession to make. I’m addicted to coffee. For over 20 years I’ve owned a Gaggia Espresso maker. I got so much use out of the original it died and I bought a replacement. Even the new one ( 10 years old now) was suffering from over use but I found a Gaggia service centre in Nottingham and a delightful engineer called Giacomo picked up the machine and delivered it back to me as good as new. Yes, you can see my obsession can’t you. Don’t judge me too harshly. Some people smoke or drink. I do neither. Some play the horses or gamble. I don’t. No, my singular addiction is good coffee. This week I had a catastrophic upset (Yes, yes, I know. This may be insignificant and trivial to you, and in the current circumstances it probably is but…) when the handle on the coffee basket snapped off, making the machine unusable. It was my own fault. I had put it in the dishwasher for years and the corrosive effect on the …
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