Shap, Worthing & Preston

                                             Tata Steel Co., Shap, Cumbria.

During a trip to the Lake district from Lancaster, we passed through Shap. From this high point near the Fell Garage, you can see the fell that is High Street to the left. On the opposite side of the a road, slammed between the road and the motorway is a steaming factory belonging to Tata Steel company, at first at odds with the rural vibe but captivating none-the-less. 

The final image is of a photo merged/layered with an image that is textured (taken in Pisa), to give the illusion that it's an old image. This simple approach is part of a side project called Marginal images. Below are some more experiments with texture and colour. All of these photographs are carefully edited and selected to keep within a collection that have been exhibited locally and put up for sale.

                     Hollywood Bowl, Worthing, W. Sussex

In a three year period my wife had researched the best conversion units to fit our Citreon Berlingo to begin our road trips around the UK's coast. It was dreamed, it was planned and we set off. Before we picked up the unit near Eastbourne on the south coast, we stayed in Worthing for the night at a Travel Lodge. Our hunt for a chippy tea at sunset drew my attention to the brutal-esque ex car park building that's the 'Hollywood Bowl', a stark, 60s throwback that's now a precinct. The overlay is a detail from the blue paint spattered gate, spotted near a road in the Mani, Greece.

                   Avenham Lane high rises, Preston, Lancs

Avenham in Preston was home for many years and I was constantly taking photographs there. These flats feature many times in the marginal images set of work. They are taken from different perspectives but look like they could be anywhere. For this image I added the flaking surface of a concrete bridge, taken in New York. 

Dungeness, Kent.

Dungeness is a flat, eerie and wild edgeland nestled at the tip of southern Kent.

Through a camera you can frame a jumble of pylons, low buildings, a lighthouse and a power station. Small innocuous homes sit like compact, self sufficient huts out of season.

One of the few black cottages has thick yellow window frames and a borderless garden belonging to the artist and film maker Derek Jarmen, now kept and overseen by his partner. 

The shingle merges with the garden, without a border to speak of. The garden and the landscape beyond it casts a spell which was difficult to articulate, something about it being both bleak and beautiful. How do plants and animals survive at the edge of this otherworldly lunar-esque dimension? The wilderness of the place helped it become an SSSI, a site of special scientific interest. The only boundaries seem to be the few roads.

At the time of our visit I got out the car and marvelled at the distant horizon, where large ships could be spotted and in the foreground, weather battered boats lay up on shingle. A large rusted tank rests along with other skeletal detritus. Walking in the distance, a visitor, with their partner trailing behind. 

Nearby Jarman's cottage I stood on a pathway to photograph a defunkt BT booth that seemed at odds within the strange landscape. Crossing back over the road to capture more detail in the low scrub I heard a shout, "S'cuse me!".  I only turned when the bloke's voice came again, this time more gritty and annoyed. 

A man appeared in a wooly bobble hat, arms bellowing like Biffa Bacon's, "S'cuse me! You wouldn't like it if I came and walked all over your garden, would you? No! Well, don't do it on mine! " He huffed and turned quickly off, ignoring the apologies. He was right to moan, I hadn't been bothered to ask - mainly because it looked like nobody lived there. Looking at the photo I realise I ignored the situation completely since a bag of spilt stones on the same path indicated if there was an owner, they wouldn't be the type to get worked up. How wrong. 

 

 

 

 

In the Frame #1 Robert Frank

A detour from photographing and writing about spaces in the city.

Years ago I saw the film 'The Pledge', directed by Sean Penn. I wrote (and re-wrote) this as a response to a detail.

In The Frame

Robert Frank’s book ‘The Americans’ appeared in 1958. The observations hinted at a so-called American Dream, or at least, an inverted reality deep within the heart of the country. The photographs dealt with issues of segregation, disillusionment, the dispossessed and culminated in the myth of any dreams. It wasn’t received well, was deemed too negative as a visual account and thus lingered for many years. Of course, that changed over time as more questions arose about photography as an art medium and Frank’s reputation grew among the ranks of his peers until, eventually, he was recognized as one of the greats. 

The cover of the book taken at a parade in New Jersey, 1955, feels eerie. A figure to the left is slightly obscured in the shadow of the room whilst at the next window another figure tries to see out past the wind-blown stars and stripes. It’s an image that stays because of its ambiguities. The American flag dominates the frame and the people it represents are immersed in shadow or completely blanked.


It implies a darker or a foreboding psyche behind a country that prides itself with freedoms and opportunity. It hints that things are not what they seem. When you consider the passion from Americans regarding their constitution and all that their flag stands for, it becomes a much more powerful image, not just because that some people are shrouded in some kind of secrecy or mystery, but that there are other more powerful people who control that narrative. Sean Penn chose to recreate it within a parade scene in his directorial crime mystery ‘The Pledge’ from 2001, starring Jack Nicholson. 

A flash of the image appears as we follow our detective into the crowds as the height of the film’s atmosphere intensifies. It’s brilliantly placed as it feels like it fits the film’s pace. Was Penn’s intention to rework the imagery into the film to provoke, or evoke something, or is it simply a homage to the great photographer? It’s possible that it’s all these points. What’s certain is that it’s a reminder of the power of visual imagery and for almost 20 years after the film was released, that particular image continues to ask questions about who the Americans were, who they are now, and what they really want to be. 

Changing Spaces. APRIL 2020

Preston centre in particular seems to be evolving fast as spaces are changing. On Pitt Street the six terrace houses that looked out of place, surrounded by car parks, have now vanished and have been replaced with...er, car park. This area is now one giant car park mainly serving the Lancashire County Council and Records offices. It's part of the criteria now, because everyone drives, to create space for cars. Over twenty years following this changing urban landscape, the new spaces created are to be or are already:

a) A car park
b) student accommodation or luxurious/professional accommodations and
c) generic new offices (to let)
d) um, er..that's it.

Change has also arrived at Vernon's Lodge; a fishing pit, central to the land that merges with Penwortham and Lostock Hall. To this day, there's the mystery of rusted green pipework that sits above a concrete platform with an opening facing the fishing pit. Something existed before, but what?

The other surrounding space has been a combination of 'edgeland', marginal-brown field and green belt for many years. It was this latest visit that things were different.

I heard the diggers first and could make out a high wall, obscuring a mound of red rubble. Everything behind had been flattened. The factory was no more. It had been an idea today to investigate again, to see into that place as I only had photographs from the outside. A dog walker told me they were preparing it for flats and the workers were redirecting the flow from the fishing pit as a 'feature'.

"About time, the factory's been closed fifteen year and they only knocked it down twelve month ago. I'm just waiting for the right pay out. We should get that and another house." He lived behind a row of houses which are to be part of the redevelopment. The houses on Sunny Bank, right next to where the factory was are still there. "Oh yeah, people are still living in them. They be waiting as well, till the time is right."

Avenham. A full circle.

This weathered sign once sat on the colonnade in Avenham, Preston near the famous Victorian parks that hug the beautiful River Ribble.

The surface had become a living organism, infecting the map of local history and obscuring the layout. Where there had been the order of paths and borders there was now algae. The texture and the nature of that layer could almost be 'de-mapping'. 

Years later my wife and I are back in the area. There are many hidden histories and traces of stories. Even with half bits of information, they're stories worth discovering to re-tell. Someone told me the colonnade is supposed to be the only Victorian colonnade of its kind in the country. This probably means 'with trees' because there's an arched one with columns in Llandudno. 

The Avenham sign is long gone, taken by the Council. Over time my own views and practices within photography have developed and changed. Like the idea of the sign; without 'the other' layer it is just a sign, a regular map pointing out an area we are to explore. But the surface that now obscures it has awakened a different aesthetic. 

'Belvedere'. This on the website marginalimages.com

The original photograph features three images:

The postcards were in an encased notice board on the north-side entry to Avenham Park and they featured the belvedere in Avenham park and the main avenue in the adjacent Millar Park. 

Prints are available to buy and range from £12.

Other images can be bought on my Etsy page

This is a large site between Avenham Lane and Church St in Preston. It's a significant area due to the amount of open spaces that can be spotted within a mile radius. Church St and its environs are at the heart of a project I focussed on for my MA studies. This particular site once belonged to EH Booths and then was put aside after demolition and ultimately neglect. Plans being plans take forever especially when existing businesses are involved.



The changes that are due are taking their time since the developers and interested parties involved want to close small local shops in order to 'fill gaps' (ie, the grotty wastelands and small businesses that hinder progress in favour for the proposed supermarket - that will need the entire area to develop a flow towards its own centre).  Since looking at the project in 2010 the complicated case continues to today (May 2014). I interviewed small businesses in the area and they all said the same thing. The Council developers had 'no idea', they wanted leading developers to take over and they also wanted the area completely changed to favour larger developers, instead of including existing shops: basically they wanted to capitalise on the whole zone rather than modify a working community where regeneration was desperately needed. The near by iconic bus station was also connected to these plans. they were going to demolish that, move it elsewhere and dissolve the current routes etc, but that plan dissolved - that's when the Council got in flap and fluster...

Once the enormous John Lewis pulled out of the doomed 'Tithebarn Project', the major sponsors basically said to leading Councillors 'you don't really know what you want do you - I'm out'.

The new plan supermarket WILL be built. But at the moment this ghostland continues to be...

 

 The view now taken slightly further back on Fylde Rd                                                                         (uploaded 2024)

  

Same spot taken May 2014. Colour, vibrancy and 

wilderness is often a welcome sign!

Fylde Rd, Preston. Wasteland for many years.

this image was taken 2010/11.