A Journey Around My Church

This appeared in the Lynn News on June 18th 1870:

After much consideration it has been determined by a few Christians resident in the neighbourhood to erect a chapel with schoolrooms at Hunstanton, a pleasant village and bathing place on the North Norfolk Coast...Up to the present time no place has been erected for Nonconformist Worship in Hunstanton or within easy walking distance...The Lord of the manor has very kindly granted a most eligible site for the proposed building, and plans have been prepared to secure accommodation for 300 persons in the chapel, and for 200 children in the classroom, at a cost of £1000.

Could you do a psychogeographical blog on our church, please?

A few weeks ago Rev. David Hulse asked me to do a blog, along the lines of those I usually do on Hunstanton for the Reading the Arcades/Reading the Promenades project, on the Union Church. As a psychogeographer, I usually look at outside space, so I decided that I would simply treat this project as if I were walking in an urban area and take photos of the objects I normally do: notices, interesting patterns, curious phenomenon, and the types of objects that often go unnoticed.



I have named this blog after the book by Xavier de Maistre A Journey Around My Room (1794). While the Union Church isn't really my church, it is the nearest to a church that I have and I always visit the Wednesday coffee morning when I stay in Hunstanton:




I/You/We Were Here

One of the experiences of walking in the town or city is that you are able to see the traces of those who have previously passed through. There are objects in space that are attached to people who have taken a journey. For example, a discarded bus ticket would be an obvious record of a journey that has been temporally and spatially indexed. However, objects often get left accidentally. Here are two umbrellas hanging in the church. The chances are that the day they were left it was raining upon arrival at the church and not on departure.




Also, on the coat hanger I found a hat (the one on the right) - "Is it David's?", I wondered at the time. So, I took off my own hat and placed it on there too and took a photo. The photo now tells a tale and remains as a sign of the day that I went to the church to do this blog: it says "I was here".



David let me go into his office; so, I took a photo of the items on his windowsill. I don't know what the item second from the left is, but it looks interesting.


Repeating Patterns
I took the following photos because I like to look for patterns that are formed by decontextualising objects from their space. Below is Complete Mission Praise, the hymn book used at the church, and also the Christmas presents that the church collects, assembles and sends abroad to children who are not fortunate enough to receive presents.




Human beings look for patterns in their environment. Historically it has been one of the qualities that has enabled us to evolve and survive, for example by recognising human faces, or quickly spotting fruit hanging in trees. When urban walking, I like to look for patterns in discarded objects or find interesting textures in space. See the blog below for more of these images:

The Cootie Catcher Derive or A Walk With Some Really Interesting Dutch Chaps


Religious Accoutrements

Another thing I like to do with psychogeography is find an interesting object, photograph it, and when I am home do some research to find out more about it. In the image below you can see the bible is open on '2 Chronicles'. While most people know the Book of Chronicles is a section of the bible - and, I'm sure many know it includes a history of King Solomon's reign and information on the Babylonian Exile - however it is also the name that many musicians have used for their albums, including Jon and Vangelis, and Rush (which I'm sure you prog rockers out there also know).



I didn't know what these were, so had to ask David. Apparently they are offering bags and are used in the Sunday Services for collecting money for the maintenance of the church. Four people pass the bags around the congregation and return them to the bowl where they are accepted by David with thanks in the form of a prayer.



I also liked this Prayer Requests book. I'm not sure if it is meant for people requesting a particular prayer or for asking for a prayer for a specific person.




Notices

One of the things that psychogeographers often photograph are the notices in urban space. The Oxford English Dictionary says that a 'notice' is: "The act of imparting information, and related senses. Intimation, information, intelligence; a piece of information....to point out to, mention specially to, inform...". Here are some of those in the church:







An Interesting Banner and Flag



This is what David told me when I asked about the above handmade banner:

When I first went to my last Church (Owton Manor Baptist Church), a lady, Mrs Valerie Carr, asked me if she could put up the banner on the occasions when her husband conducted services of Infant Blessing. I took over the duty, but asked her if she would kindly leave the banner in place. She made the banner, which reflects the Bible story of Jesus blessing the children. Val sadly died in 2000. I acquired the banner for Hunstanton Union Church when the Church in Hartlepool had a change of banners.

The above flag is for the Brownies who meet in the church hall. The Brownie organisation was set up by Lord Baden-Powell in 1914 in order to fully represent both genders and all age groups. They were originally called Rosebuds.

Here is some recent information on the Hunstanton Brownies:

Union Church - Brownies Section
Hunstanton Rainbows, Brownies and Guides - Report August 2010


Traces of the Past

While my walk around the church was a rather unconventional psychogeographical trip, I attempted as much as possible to bring a different experience to the space, in the same way that I do when operating in the outdoors of the town or city. Space holds a social history which reflects the lives of people who have lived and worked there. It is easy, when you move through the same space on a regular basis, to not notice some of the décor. This is both because the space has become familiar to us, but it can also be for other reasons.

I hope I have brought a different flavour of the Union Church due to my wanderings. I shall leave you with this final image because it represents what it is that I find interesting about the objects we find in space. These toys are a trace of the lives of children. What it is that I like is the questions that are posed by them: Who did the toys belong to? Were they toys of local children? What are the children doing now?



Relates websites:

The Union Church, Hunstanton
Hunstanton Churches
History and Heritage of Hunstanton

The Cootie Catcher Dérive or A Walk With Some Really Interesting Dutch Chaps

A Device for a Chance Route
A few weeks ago I was very fortunate to be invited, along with a number of other Leeds-based organisations, to take some visitors from Holland on an urban walk around Leeds. So, on Monday October 11th I headed off to Temple Works in Holbeck to meet them.




Along with a dice, which I had made specially for the event, that gave instructions on turning in particular directions (e.g. first left), I also made the above device. We used to play with these at school, but I couldn't remember the name of them - neither could anyone else. Having searched for it on the web, it appears to be a Paper Fortune Teller. How dull! I thought it was going to have a much more exciting name. . . But then I found out it was also called a 'Cootie Catcher', which sounds a bit dodgy, yet much more interesting!

Paper Fortune Teller

My own paper fortune teller has numbers on the outside, then small symbols representing urban phenomena on the next face (motorway, trains, etc.), and inside, various instructions such as: head towards the nearest blue object, or look for the nearest railings.

On the walk, while I took my usual photos of prohibition signs, etc., I decided to concentrate my attention on images that were aesthetically pleasing (click on the images to get the full advantage of them).


Discarded Objects






One of the things I believe is important for someone exploring urban space is to reconsider the detritus of everyday life by reframing it. For instance, when looking at the above chairs it is hard to understand why, when they look perfectly fine, they have been thrown away. However, the side-effect of this casual act is that it enables a recontextualisation to occur, the product of which is the above photo.

While I understand this is not a new way of looking at the phenomenon in space, I think it enables discussions that digress from those that tend to begin in the area of whether you 'like' something or not; in other words it encourages a non-dialectical discussion. To me, liking something or not is, kind of, irrelevant: as this means attaching positive or negative terms to these objects, which always end in an impossible impasse (see discussions on classical v contemporary architecture). Of course, these images are of rubbish: however, there is rubbish everywhere and attempting to reframe it, aesthetically - as in, is it interesting?, what does this rubbish say about contemporary society? - may be a way through this problem.



What I try to do with the refuse that I see when walking is look for patterns, or seek an attractive composition, or engage with it on some theoretical/philosophical, if possible. After all, it is a product, well actually a by-product, of our postmodern age, and is hugely significant and should not be ignored. In a way it is the outcome of the spectacle of which Debord spoke. We all have too much 'stuff', we don't need all these consumer products - we discard perfectly useful objects without considering the repercussions: and I don't just mean that in an ecological way



The above image is interesting for a number of reasons: why did the trees get cut down (this area hasn't even really been redeveloped properly); also, if it were a rural area, there would likely be some local pressure group that would prevent the sawing down of these trees (in other words, dare I say, a regional middle-class demographic that had some power). Anyway, it provided me with a lovely, organic image...


In Conclusion
I'm obviously not the first person to have recognised the significance of these liminal areas such as Holbeck. Nevertheless, to prevent it from being just another theoretical discussion (either locally or nationally) it should be visited and (re)considered in the context of postmodern space and in the light of capital accumulation...


Relates websites:
Fonds BKVB
What's Up, What's Down

The House that Jack Built

Madame Psychogeography

The Ghost of Madame Psychogeography Still Haunts Armley Mills



The rumour is that the ghost of Madame Psychogeography still haunts Armley Mills, what is now the Leeds Industrial Museum. The story states that on mild damp early autumn days she can sometimes be seen moving around the museum site in a spectral fashion. It is believed she was a Victorian woman who wanders endlessly around the area looking for something. However, no-one knows for sure what she is looking for, and there are varied opinions on what this might be.



Some say that she spends many an hour looking up at one of the windows of the mill. It is said that her lover jumped from this window to his death after hearing rumours that she was intending to join the suffrage movement.



Others say that she is looking for the gear on the lock in which she caught her hair. The one that flung her to her death in the Aire, when she lent over the fence to pick a flower. But, many believe that she is looking for her bicycle because she knows she needs to get home for tea.



Madame Psychogeography was considered to be a frivolous woman, full of dreams and fantastical ideas about the world. Unable to engage in any productive way with life - as a woman of her status was expected to - she would spend many an hour wandering along the river, or riding her bicycle up and down Kirkstall Valley, her unfettered hair flowing behind her.



If you visit Armley Mills, look out for Madame Psychogeography. You may sense she is there, but before you turn around in the hope of catching sight of her, she will have moved on. The lucky ones can be fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of her retreating shadow.

Armed for Armley - Part 2

Armed for Armley - Part 2
A Psychogeographers Aesthetic Response to the Leeds Industrial Museum Grounds





Armley Mills - Take 2

A friend and I set out around lunch-time on September 15th for my second visit to the museum. The sky was cloudy, the chilly air required an extra layer of clothing and rain was threatened. By the time we reached the museum the rain had arrived. Since I had planned to visit only the outside of the museum, I sat in the cafe with a coffee (which had gone up in price by 1/3 since my last visit, to the grand sum of £1) and hoped that the rain would abate. Here is a photo, from the cafe window, of a 'typical' dull and rainy Northern day:



This blog will be themed around particular types of imagery on and around the site of Armley Mills. Before I begin I would just like to say a little about the type of psychogeographical approach I take to urban space.

The signs in our environment, which appear in the form of urban décor, not only provoke an aesthetic response but also contain a history within them that may not be apparent on a superficial viewing. However, the Armley Mills is a good place to be introduced to notions of social history, because when the visitor is inside the museum the history of the struggle of the workers of the 'Industrial North' is laid out for you.

However, even postmodernity (the cultural period in which we now live) holds a history of social struggle that can be read off the topography: space as historical text. Here is an obvious example of this on the very grounds of the museum. It is a memorial that appears under a tree:




Graffiti Bridge

On approaching the museum from the same route taken on the last visit, you see some interesting graffiti. This route to the museum is far more aesthetically rich, from an industrial perspective, than the other route (which I have now discovered and mention towards the end of this blog), the 'official' one over the modern bridge that takes you straight onto the museum grounds.

Here are some images of the graffiti. I particularly like the second image, not just for the graffiti but for that lovely big pipe going into the two walls - and the arch and railings.






Danger Sub-Station and Fragile Roofs

When passing the lovely blue-green box on this second visit, I noticed that the ivy had come off in some places, leaving a mark of where it had been. I liked this because it looked like the trail on a map, a dashed line often representing a path.



I also then discovered that it has/had some electricity-based function at some point:



There were also many signs on a number of buildings warning visitors of the fragile roofs on these outbuildings. I only took photos of three, but there were many more:






Liminal Spaces

I, and other psychogeographers, are particularly interested in what are often called liminal spaces. These are spaces that generally go unnoticed and are threshold spaces that can be in between, or on the edge of, other spaces. These areas are difficult to define and can be ambiguous. Here is one that I took a photo of at the seaside resort of Hunstanton in Norfolk. While this may look like a garden, it is actually just off the promenade and is in between the crazy golf and the childrens' slide:

Hunstanton Promenade

The images below were taken at, or near, Armley Mills. The first one was taken on Kirkstall Industrial Estate, very close to the old bridge that takes you over to the museum. I would consider this one to be a good example of a liminal space. However, the other two are some steps on the museum grounds taken from the top and the bottom. I think they could be considered liminal spaces, especially because they are closed off to the public. What do you think?






Signs of the Times

Under this heading I am including both some commercial signage on the periphery of the museum site, and also some signage on the museum grounds.

The first image is taken on Kirkstall Rd and is for the Cardigan Fields leisure park which is connected to the museum via the new bridge. The second photo was taken just near the museum car park.




The following are all signs taken on the ground of the museum. I liked the red/black one the most, however the photo didn't come out very well. I also like the three different signs together in the same image:









A Design for Life

While this is a song by the Manic Street Preachers it is also the name of this section, as I have selected the following images because I think they offer up a design aesthetic in regards to form, colour or composition. I shall not make any reference to my own aesthetic response to them, nor explain what they are images of, because I think decontextualising them makes them more interesting:










Walking Home to Post Industrial

The last image I took on the grounds was the following one. It is the window of the maintenance shed. I guess that these are children's toys that have been left at the museum in the past. However, I'm not sure that a child would take a massive hobby horse to a museum, but you never know.



We went home via the 'proper' bridge that can be accessed through Cardigan Fields leisure park. If you head to the Vue Cinema, look for Frankie and Benny's restaurant, you will see the bridge which takes you directly into the museum grounds which is to the right of the restaurant:



However, I would recommend that you do take the route highlighted in the first blog at least once, exiting or entering the museum.

I have also taken another image of the Yorkshire Evening Post sign to provide the updated headlines:



Here is a link to the news in the Guardian:

Thousands of Leeds Council workers offered redundancy or early retirement


The Power of Representation

In The Burden of Representation (1988) John Tagg looks at photography in relation to its representation of history. Much of his text is concerned with how institutions enable certain photographic images to gain status when representing particular aspects of history. Representations become what Tagg describes as “discourses which themselves function as formidable tools of control and power, producing a new realm of objects both as their targets and as instrumentalities.” (1988: 70). Power produces the lived experience, what we consider to be 'reality'. This orients power in everyday gestures, actions and practices, at the same time naturalising it.

Reference:
Tagg, John. 1988. The Burden of Representation (Basingstoke and New York: Palgrave Macmillan).