Watch this Space

Just to let everyone know that even though the residency is finished and I'm back home, I will be uploading more material from the last day.

But first I have a busy schedule, I have to finish this web site by the end of the week!

Thanks for your patience.

After the Last Walk

It's now the end of the residency and I'm typing this in the coffee shop opposite the hotel I've been staying in. It's very busy today in Hathersage, a sunny Spring Sunday certainly does attract people to this area. It seems that taking in the landscape is big business in post-industrial contemporary Britain.

I'm really pleased with the results of putting the webcam pointing upwards today and wish I could walk around longer to capture more frames. Like yesterday's downward pointing series, pointing upward is not only evocative of the light, weather and objects above my head as I walk, it gives me another insight into the landscape I was walking through, one that I am not capable of percieving easily.

Talking about this as capturing data is a troubling and interesting frame, what is called 'irritierend' in German, a false friend that means something milder than 'irritating'. I'm thinking of going home now to Berlin which is perhaps why I'm thinking of German words. I'm also looking back on these few days away and what I have learned about what I set myself to do and am trying to draw some conclusions.

I think that the good thing about sketching, analogue or digital, the journal or the blog, the drawing or the photograph, is that it builds up material that can be returned to later, much as in the working methods of the landscape painters I have been haunted by. I'm wondering what I will make of all the impressions and thoughts that have been racing through my mind and body while walking in the hills in a few weeks or months when I have some distance on it all. I can only hope that the blur of thoughts slow and distil into something more legible to me than at present.

I think that the extending of a digital practice into the landscape has been difficult, not just technologically (the screen is too dim in bright daylight, the equipment too susceptible to rain) but perhaps more interestingly, there is a conceptual difficulty: What DO you do with a laptop in the landscape? I get the impression that the walkers around me would think that taking a computer on a rural walk was perverse. The laptop is the very thing you are glad to leave behind, happy that its battery won't last and that there is no internet connection, happy to be at last detatched from the working world, free to roam in the fresh air. Perhaps because as an artist I don't have such a rigid division between work and life outside work, that I have the impulse to take my tools with me when I escape, in order to bring those impressions and experiences back and share them to another audience.

In this way, Going Solo has been more about getting work done than getting away from it all, or rather getting away from it all in order to work. I am only too aware that as I type this, a number of factors have conspired to make all this possible, Miles and Anette's tireless application-writing, organisation and fund-raising, my friends that are putting me up again tonight so that I can get to the airport early tomorrow morning, and above all, my partner who is looking after our daughter at home and whom I have been away from for the past week.

To all those people, I want to send a message of heartfelt thanks and to all those who read this blog, thank you for the attention that made me feel supported through this period of Going Solo.

The sun goes down on the Vernal Equinox

Instructions for sitting

The benches that I've passed today and yesterday, have all been put in places I don't want to stop. All of them seemed like a slightly military bark to stop there and look at Nature - 'It'll do you good'. I can't help associate them with the notion of the improving landscape that has its route in the period I'm interested in thinking about, the period of the construction of the modern idea of landscape and what to do in it. The thoughts that perhaps propelled those teenagers into the 'fresh air'. Thoughts I can't help thinking were not theirs, but their parents, perhaps now enjoying a few moments of quiet at home.

Not one of these benches had shelter over them, like the structure I fantasised I would find, a sort of bus shelter half way up a mountain. The strangest for me was the one I saw yesterday, by the side of a moderately busy road, placed up a bank, and overlooking a singularly unnoteworthy view of the blank heather hill opposite. It was dedicated to 'a local walker' but I can't help thinking he'd be a bit disappointed at its placement.

Thoughts I had to save for later

My walk today had a totally different character to yesterday. This had a lot to do with the weather and my choice of route to Bamford. I went on the "Derwent Valley Heritate Trail", the prominence of which on the map should have alerted me to it's popularity. At the start were clumps of goretexed teenagers bright as petrol station primulas, saying goodbye to their teachers/parents/scout leaders. Another group I passed, equipped for a hike up a mountain, rather than a stroll by a river, were being patronised by some sort of local area guide, who was asking just as I passed, "High Low [a local hill] - funny name, any ideas or comments?". I got a sympathetic "Hello" from one of the participants.

The upshot of all this, rainy weather, wet surfaces, followed by packs of walkers, was that there was nowhere I felt I could stop. It made me wonder what walkers and painters of old did - waited for better weather probably. Is it a function of our busy schedules that we go out in all weathers because we only have one shot at it? Perhaps that is a positive aspect of having to schedule things so tightly.

Another walk film

This time I put the web cam on the back of my rucksack, facing downwards.
I think it gives an even better impression of the walk than if it were pointing outwards

Haunting Bamford

The goal of my walk today, as I stated here before heading out, was Bamford, a village I'd spent a few weeks in in 1978 when I was 12. I can't remember anything very much about this holiday at all, or rather I can't remember Bamford at all and wanted to know if going back would prompt any recollection whatsoever.

Disappointingly, I had no proustian moment of memory flooding back in all its vivid detail. The past and the person I was then felt very distant. I felt quite ghost-like myself as I haunted the streets of Bamford (there aren't that many), in the hope of feeling something, of catching a glimpse of the 12 year old me disappearing round the corner ahead.

A plan

This portrait of the artist (and his mother!) as a young man was taken in, I think 1978 when we had a family holiday in Bamford, the neighbouring village. My plan today is to walk to Bamford, trying not to let the rain cramp my style and see if I can remember anything about being there when I was 12.

First Day of Spring

Believe it or not, today is the Vernal Equinox, that astronomical event when the day is as long as the night. I can't believe that we are a quarter of the way through the year, the snow I saw yesterday clinging to the foot of Stannage Edge made me feel that the Winter has not yet released us from its grasp. It's been long, this Winter.

Reminding us that this is an astronomical event, rather than a meteorological one, this is what the first day of Spring looks like from my hotel window

Still Digesting

I slept like a log last night and found it hard to keep my eyes open past 11pm, I felt so tired, physically and mentally. Yesterday was so rich, I think I'll be unpicking it for some time. I meant to post some of the pictures that made the 16 second video because I really like their unfocussed, un-intentionally framed quality. See what you think:

Comments

I've had some lovely email responses to the blog - thank you all but I'd encourage you to also think about commenting so it's not just me and my thoughts here. Think about it, I'd be delighted if you would.

Last thoughts of the day

I'm very tired, being out that long is not what I'm used to, hurrying to get my daughter to nursery or back and spending the rest of the day in front of a laptop.

But however attractive walking all day sounds, I only allowed myself two points to sit down and draw or write. I wonder if I would be more productive if I didn't feel like I had to cover so much ground. I guess I'm just excited to be out in the countryside.

The real challenge tomorrow will be the weather I think. I shall have to see what I can do given the rain we're forecast.


I did enjoy taking time to sit outside and draw, not because I liked the results, but because I was forced to stop for a while and complete a task. I liked being on the hill fort Carl Wark, it reminded me of childhood holidays with my family and our pilgrimages to iron age hill forts in Dorset. Whatever their age, and Carl Wark is disputed, I do get a strange, slightly spooky feeling from those locations, perhaps I imagine how afraid one would have been if you felt the need for them.

Sadly, the screen of the eeepc was too dim to use it as a Claude Mirror - perhaps the bad weather tomorrow will suit itself although I'm a bit concerned about getting everything too wet.

The Walk as a GPS drawing

A Five and a Half Hour Walk in 16 seconds

Here is my day, as witnessed by the web cam that was on my shoulder most of the way, compressed into a movie lasting 16 seconds, using the free Linux tool ffmpeg with the one-liner ffmpeg -r 8 -i %03d.png -s vga 8fps.mp4

Sketchbook II

Sitting under this rock

Looking at this view

I'm struck by the thought of another that I've taken on this journey and that I've rather neglected in the itinerary of camera, web cam, eeepc, watercolours, sound recorder, batteries, my internal dialogue etc etc: My body!
Assailed by thoughts of sunburn - this, the first bright but cold day of the year, me with no hat (forgotten in the hotel room), about to walk along Stannage Edge with no shade or cloud cover in sight. My body with its filling bladder, my body that I forgot to bring any food for. My body that gets left out of my romantic/digital debate so far, the sherpa for all this kit I insist on bringing. How can I bring it into this practice? Perhaps this walk is a walk towards this, towards an integration of some sort. Perhaps I'll have to put my coat on with the hood up while I walk!

[Later note: I subsequently found my hat in the pocket of my coat and wore it from this moment on I'll let you know tomorrow if I got burnt!]

From My Sketchbook I

It's occurring to me, as I sit for a while (the GPS track might tell me how long) that what drawing really does is force you to stop, if only for a while. Something that some aspects of digital life, especially mobile applications, encourage or at least enable is constant motion.
However, getting more into programming recently, I am all too aware of the painstaking craft of writing code in some instances. I wonder if I should really do some coding en plein air! I suppose I'm blogging now, although it's too bright to see the screen so I'm writing this round the frame of the drawing that I'm not very happy with.

A Lovely Morning

Just had breakfast in the intimidatingly luxurious hotel dining area, feeling very scruffy in my un-ironed shirt and fleece which would normally pass unnoticed in my natural habitat, I feel a bit too conspicuous - a polar bear in a coal mine (can't think of a better analogy at the moment).

I plan a day of walking in this sunny spring weather because the weekend will be wet. I'll post my findings when I get back later.

Have a good day, wherever you are.

Back at the Hotel

More photos from the little computer, setting up this blog and telling people about it. Blimey! Two people are already followers! I do have some loyal friends. Thanks guys.

Sangams Balti Restaurant Hathersage 19:29

Going Solo - kind of tricky in this populated island. Eating Solo - you can count on this if you're travelling alone. I guess I had my lunch (M&S sandwiches) sitting at the same table as a business man on the train but I don't count that as eating with someone. We hardly exchanged eye contact although he looked friendly, a little like Ian Wallace on My Music.

I just took a walk round the town (village?) that took me into the night. Leaving the hotel room, I rigged the webcam I bought in Nottingham to the strap of my rucksack and reset the script to take a few photos every 5 minutes instead of 10. found myself waiting around at the church on top of the hill so that I would have a picture of it but half way round the walk abandoned that and adopted the 'correct' attitude of forgetting when the camera would come on. Looking at the photos just now, I like the blurry, angled quality of some of them, that capture walking quite well. A few black pictures attest to the lack of street lighting in some parts of my walk. Will have to learn how to focus the webcam for tomorrow though!

A First Walk Around Hathersage

As I mentioned, I've been experimenting with free and open source software and my little eeepc which I've rigged up to take photographs every 5 / 10 minutes.

Tonight I went for a first walk round Hathersage, starting my GPS map of the town and taking the web cam / eeepc combination out for the first walk. Here are some results:

Initial Thoughts

On the train to Sheffield at 13:51, the following things are on my mind: What is a digital practice in the rural landscape? What am I, as a confirmed urbanite, going to do in the rural setting of the Peak District National park? Why does the Ordnance Survey Landranger series start with the area I'm going to? What am I doing in the First Class compartment? Do I really look as jowly as the webcam pictures suggest? Where did I put that hard drive with all my files backed up on it? Will I eat my way through my material budget in absence of per diems?

I replied to a PhD student today who was directed to me by Gabriella Giannichi, trying to give her a flavour of what I might be doing this weekend and found myself in a rather chaotic but inspiring mood about what is in my head. I'm thinking about reflecting on romantic landscape painting and its role in the perception of what countryside is to this day and how that might inform a slightly absurdist desire I have to take a laptop for a walk in nature, working on digital art production or data gathering en plein air, as the impressionists would say.

Talking to Dad last night, he told me about the Claude Glass or Black Mirror which 19th Century aesthetes used to take for walks in the countryside with them, turning their back on what they wanted to see in order to see its reflection, distorted by the convex mirror and desaturated by the purposefully dim representation. It reminds me of the Scrying Mirror of John Dee I used to visit in the British Museum and looking at one on an internet search earlier in Foyles bookshop, I was delighted to see that one design of Claude Glass looks rather like my Eeepc which I am going to be taking on my walks. Perhaps the code I wrote that periodically takes a set of pictures from the eeepc's webcam is the digital equivalent of this absurd and fascinating device? Like it, the eeepc webcam points back at the user, forcing you to turn your back on your subject and look over your own shoulder if you want to see how the webcam sees it.

There is something else crucial about the placement of the webcam in most laptops that have them built in: They all face the user rather than the outside world. This is clearly about video calling where the person on the other end of the line wants to see you, not what you're facing. Last week I extended my adventures in programming to the linux crontab, writing a small script that takes between two and four pictures every ten minutes the netbook is on and I've been surprised by the results. Programming a script that will take a picture rather than pressing a button to take a picture doesn't affect the authorship of that work but it does change utterly the content of the photograph. I've been delighted and horrified by what my little laptop witnesses and a narrative seems to form around it, anthropomorphising its presence. Looking at the photos, what you get is a sense of what the thing looks at, without being able to move, a bit like a tiny child, witnessing the world its parents have wittingly or unwittingly placed in front of it.

The outcome of all this is that I have now a collection of pictures, sometimes of empty rooms, many of me and other people getting caught unaware and many more of my face frowning into the screen of this eeepc computer I'm typing at now or working at another machine in our studio. I think my favourite set so far is seeing the light through the train window change as I travel from Nottingham to Winchester on Tuesday evening. My intention is to use this as a tool for documenting the residency.

As for other activities, on my way to St Pancras this morning to catch the Sheffield train, I popped into Cass Arts on Charing Cross Road, near the National Portrait Gallery and bought some more watercolour half-pans for my watercolour set that I recently revived for a web site I am building (http://www.archivdesumbruchs.de), in case I get inspired, like the San Diego artist Tony Allard, who I met in Banff, to combine analogue mark making with digital image production and connectivity (see drawing in the media stream).

I also intend to draw the town of Hathersage by walking down all its streets until I have a complete record of it in my GPS drawing data (http://planbperformance.net/dan/mapping.htm).

This morning my Mum found a few faded photographs from about 1979 when we had a family holiday to Bamford, the next town along the Derwent valley from Hathersage. I re-photographed these images with the intention of visiting Bamford and see if my memory is prompted. I have very little recollection of this holiday, other than finding a vinyl record of a patriotic song in the bedroom I was sleeping in about Guernsey - 'Guernsey, Guernsey my home / Island, born of the foam'.