Last week I spent a valuable seven days near the borders to research some of the history of the skirmishes between the Scotts, the English, The Normans, the Danes and more latterly, the French... What a land of restless tides it is, both in the sea and on Terra Firma. It seems there's never been more than a two hundred year period of stability, where at least some territorial dispute arose up and caused a shift in culture and land divisions.
Of course, my real interest is in those "things that were left behind", the theme of my research. The theme is a truly rich source of artistic endeavour as there is so much to be observed, both physically and culturally, tangible and intangible.
Take for example, the intangible concepts of dialects and accents... In just 20 miles or so, travelling north across a completely (in my own opinion) notional yet national border, you can detect not only a change in accents but potentially a very different dialect set language. The linguistic legacy left from hundreds of years ago remains within little towns and villages, that are as different and as noticeable to the ear as the native tongues of Welsh and English much further south. I find this fascinating in our modern global treatment of instant communication. I am still quite amazed that accents still exist in such rich diversity, especially as there are no physical borders or barriers between these pockets of populations, and all of them listen to the outside tongues of there neighbours near and far, yet retain their own independent identity.
The borders were a pretty dangerous and lawless area for much of the last two thousand years. Since the times of the Romans (who tried to draw a line of Hadrian's wall) well to the south of the border country, right up to the unification of England and Scotland and for quite a few years after that. So much was left behind that gives us clues to learn from and inspire my journey. Far too much in fact to properly analyse within a blog about my artistic journey, without it becoming a blog on history, - which I will try very hard to refrain from doing!
Anyway, back to earth... Perhaps literally... The farming communities of the borders have probably remained generally unchanged for hundreds of years. I was lucky enough to be staying on a working farmstead deep inside the Rede Valley, with a landscape in front of me that probably hasn't changed (save for a few more houses and wind-farms) in centuries. I couldn't resist trying to capture a sense of my view from my window;
Of course, my real interest is in those "things that were left behind", the theme of my research. The theme is a truly rich source of artistic endeavour as there is so much to be observed, both physically and culturally, tangible and intangible.
Take for example, the intangible concepts of dialects and accents... In just 20 miles or so, travelling north across a completely (in my own opinion) notional yet national border, you can detect not only a change in accents but potentially a very different dialect set language. The linguistic legacy left from hundreds of years ago remains within little towns and villages, that are as different and as noticeable to the ear as the native tongues of Welsh and English much further south. I find this fascinating in our modern global treatment of instant communication. I am still quite amazed that accents still exist in such rich diversity, especially as there are no physical borders or barriers between these pockets of populations, and all of them listen to the outside tongues of there neighbours near and far, yet retain their own independent identity.
The borders were a pretty dangerous and lawless area for much of the last two thousand years. Since the times of the Romans (who tried to draw a line of Hadrian's wall) well to the south of the border country, right up to the unification of England and Scotland and for quite a few years after that. So much was left behind that gives us clues to learn from and inspire my journey. Far too much in fact to properly analyse within a blog about my artistic journey, without it becoming a blog on history, - which I will try very hard to refrain from doing!
Anyway, back to earth... Perhaps literally... The farming communities of the borders have probably remained generally unchanged for hundreds of years. I was lucky enough to be staying on a working farmstead deep inside the Rede Valley, with a landscape in front of me that probably hasn't changed (save for a few more houses and wind-farms) in centuries. I couldn't resist trying to capture a sense of my view from my window;