Familiarity

Familiarity

I have just come back from a 5 day break in Cadiz. It was the third time I have visited this beautiful city and at last I felt a sense of familiarity with its streets. The first time I visited I remember thinking this was an impossibility.

At home in Cadiz.

The streets seemed to have no plan, they criss-crossed the peninsular, some stopped abruptly in a dead end whilst others opened up unexpectantly onto tree filled squares. In my imagination I had compared this place to a cleaner, friendlier and sunnier version of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld city, Ankh Morpork.

A typical street in Cadiz.

The difference between orientating yourself in a northern European city and this one, 59 miles away from Tangiers, Africa as I see it is one of scale and proportion. The climate and topography are obviously very different and these factors have influenced the evolution of the street system, the buildings and therefore our familiarity with its form.

Details of places once visited become familiar landmarks.

Cadiz gets very hot and one way of creating shady passageways amongst the city is to build taller buildings, close together, so that the sea air is funnelled through the streets, allowing for a cooler more comfortable city environment.

Looking up.

I have grown up in the UK where in comparison, the climate and topography is variable and in general the streets are wider and buildings lower than those in Cadiz and this allows landmarks to be more easily recognised from a distance.

Path in the Botanical gardens.

Whether they are manmade or natural these landmarks have given me a spatial awareness by which I have been able to map my environment. Even in a city like London, the vista is wide enough to be able to pinpoint a landmark and orientate myself. The scale of London is larger than that of Cadiz which is more of a pedestrian or human scale model.

Orientation

One of the difficulties of navigating around Cadiz is that it is set out on a peninsular away from the mainland of Spain. This creates many views through the streets that look similar; multiple narrow streets have a brilliant glow at the end, as the space becomes expansive and the sun on the ocean glints in the distance.

Looking out to sea.

Laurie Lee in his novel, ’As I Walked Out One Midsummer Morning’ described the city well.

‘ Cadiz, from a distance, was a sharp incandescence, a scribble of white on a sheet of blue glass, lying curved on the bay like a scimitar and sparkling with African light.’

His other descriptions of the city are detailed and don’t paint the place as a pleasant destination at all. I am glad to say that it has changed; it is quite beautiful and charming now, with wonderful architecture, food and culture.

Door detail.

But on this visit, once I had relooked at my old map and taken note of the shape of the peninsular and remembered familiar ‘hang-outs’ from previous years, (such as various bars, the beach and market areas), it took me a while to orientate myself but then it was clear! I continued to add information on this trip to my past knowledge of the place and suddenly it felt familiar.

Detail from one of the many church facades.

This was a very comforting feeling to achieve and made me realise once again how important my project could be, connecting people to place through walking, discovering or rediscovering their locality.

Festivals and Rituals

The reason why I have visited Cadiz so often in the last few years is because of my interest in Flamenco. I have always loved the music and costume, so when a teacher offered classes in flamenco movement 5 years ago, I joined up. Four years ago we travelled out to Jerez, a neighbouring town of Cadiz and participated in our first Feria.

The Feria at Jerez is a place to promenade.

The history of the ‘Feria de Caballo’, (Jerez horse fair), goes back to over 500 years ago, when it was the location for a livestock fair, which ran from April to September. Over time it grew in popularity and stands were put up by local wine and sherry producers to sell to the spectators and participants. The specific dates are based on a three week timescale after Semana Santa, (the week leading up to Easter Sunday.)

Promenading by day and night.

People in this area have connected to the place where they live by participating in this event each year, watching the horses parade up and down the park and dancing Sevillanas in the surrounding ‘casetas’. This shared experience of an annual event is valuable to a community in many ways. It can bring people together, build community, encourage pride in a place and also inspire tourists to visit.

Flamenco costume in Cadiz streets.

During my MA study I researched the history of connection to the land through ritual use, including processional movement, symbolic landscape markers and ceremonial gatherings. The feria at Jerez was very interesting to visit with these aspects in mind.

Here in the UK there were many more annual festivals that have been lost. One I am particularly aware of was the ‘Scouring of the White Horse’ at Uffington in Oxfordshire. Thomas Hughes of ‘Tom Brown’s School Days’ fame, wrote a book with this title back in 1859 and depicts the ceremonial annual practice of scouring the chalk cut horse, so that its white shape can be seen with greater clarity from a distance.

The ceremonial path at Avebury has inspired me to paint.

The artist Paul Nash took this photo, he was also fascinated by the chalk white horse.

There is an Iron Age fort up on the hill, just above the chalk figure, it was in this enclosure, named ‘Uffington Castle’, that the festivities took place. His book details all the merry goings on and is an interesting read.

Midsummer

Next month it will be midsummer and yet again I will quietly lead a group of people up along a section of the Salt Way path to light a fire and enjoy being in that moment at that place. Over the last few years it has become even more special as I share the experience with others and they all add their own trace and story to the route.

The section of the Salt Way that we walk at Midsummer.

One lady introduced her daughter to the walk last year and they both shared a very special experience as the sun set and we sat around the fire at the top of the hill. The journey back down was lovely as the lanterns lit up the procession and people were chatting happily as fireworks went off in the distance at the harbour. I am sure this year will be wonderful again for the participants and any potential onlookers.

Emotional Walking

 Emotional Walking

‘Walk yourself out of your bad mood. Studies show that even a 10 minute walk immediately boosts brain chemistry to increase happiness.’

Unknown

This was posted on Facebook a few days ago. I don’t know where the quote was from originally, but it rings true. If I have ever wanted to get out of a bad mood, I try not to get into the car as that is just too risky, my attitude may pervade my driving skills and someone could get hurt.

'Chalk Paths' by Eric Ravilious

Instead, I choose to go out and start walking. It doesn’t matter where really, just the act of going out and walking, somewhere, helps. The steady pace helps get things back into perspective; other peoples’ activities and the natural environment distract me from my thoughts. Before I know it, I have walked through that emotion and may be feeling another, but all is OK again.

Chalk paths, pilgrim routes and avenues of trees inspire me.

As a child I was taken out for walks most weekends. The first house that I remember well was in the Medway Towns. We lived on the edge of the huge conurbation that made up, at that time, the Borough of Gillingham. We were able to experience the countryside quite comfortably, from this ‘edge’ position. We could cycle or walk out from our front door, go under the big bridge that fed the traffic up to the M2 and be in the small village of Bredhurst within minutes. Further on we would be at the high ground that overlooked Maidstone and the Kentish Weald. Once we walked on the Pilgrims’ Way here and I was fascinated to be told its story, of the pilgrims travelling along it and imagined how it must have been for them. This, I think was the start of my love affair with paths.

Topographical Exploration

About 15 years later I lived next to an army camp, had married a topographical surveyor and had access to any Ordnance Survey map we needed, to explore the surrounding countryside.

A recent watercolour painting on wood, showing a path. (detail)

The Ridgeway is said to be the oldest road in Europe. I became drawn to it. Other artists have been seduced by it in the past; these include Paul Nash, Eric Ravillious and John Piper.

Black and white photograph by Paul Nash of the head of the White Horse, Dragon Hill in the distance.(c.1937.)

We used to visit it regularly and walk along certain sections of it. It was often very windy and wild, but the sense of history and the views were wonderful. Many ancient landmarks are located along its route, notably the enigmatic chalk White Horse of Uffington, Waylands Smithy, Barbury castle, Avebury and the Sanctuary.

The undulating landscape and Waden hill, by Avebury inspired me.

Other places to visit would be the concrete posts that were built and used as ‘trig points’, which Jim had measured from during survey exercises. These especially were up on the highest ground, often along the Ridgeway path and not too far from a cosy pub. So our walking became focused on these many aspects: mapping and navigating the path, traversing the highest ground, visiting contemporary or ancient landmarks and enjoying the views in between. We discovered many crop circles from this height and would later drive past them and note if the farmer was ‘cashing in’ on this mystery or oblivious to his new harvest of people!

Painting Paths

I think my first large painting was completed about 10 years later at my home in Whitstable. It was titled, ‘Silbury Hill/Initiation Myth’ and bought at my first exhibition in 2005 by an acquaintance. It was based on my memories and experiences of walking on the Ridgeway. There was a path in that early painting; there has been a path and a bird in every painting since. The paths are easy to find, the birds not so. They can often be the path itself. Sometimes it takes a bit of looking to find them.

'Letting Go', an early work showing path and bird as one.

I have just come back from the Turner Contemporary gallery in Margate, the new exhibition is about self-portraiture. I have only ever sketched myself in an art class, it is not a subject I feel drawn to, portraiture and self-portraiture to me are what ‘proper artists’ do. I have always thought that I ‘play’ with the media that I choose and so couldn’t ‘do’ a serious subject such as a portrait.

Detail of 'I Dream', showing clifftop chalk paths.

But in hindsight perhaps my paintings have always depicted me. Paths and birds may symbolise spirit and direction.

There is a great painting in the Turner by Maggi Hambling, loaned by the National Portrait Gallery. I listened to a Radio Four piece (at 1hr 21mins) about this exhibition yesterday and her name came up. She painted her own image, and is portrayed with three hands, as she likes a smoke and a drink, but also loves to paint. I also noticed she had many other objects placed around her on the canvas.

One was a beautiful white flying bird. These objects were meant to be symbolic of what was important to her, apart from her fags and booze! So, I am now left wondering what this bird means to her.

Walking to Forget

We walked the whole length of the Ridgeway many years later, after we had moved from the area and were living back in Kent. We walked this time to both remember and forget. We had suffered a deep loss and wanted to be away from it all, to forget what day it was and just be, together.

Detail of 'I Dream', Ridgeway chalk path in foreground.

Walking the Ridgeway, the oldest road, gave us the strength to recognise all was well with the world. The path had been well trodden before and now we were travelling along its length together. The writer Robert Macfarlane accurately describes this feeling, ‘the paths provide, for those who walk them, communion with the prehistoric. They are spectral places, ghostly with the leathery feet of the ancient past.’

We revisited the haunts from our younger days, enjoyed the views once again, saw a brand new crop circle, camped along the route and felt safe and deeply touched by the whole experience.

Walking the Ridgeway, Uffington White Horse Summer 1999.

I have a photo of myself standing on the chalk eye of the white horse, looking over the Vale of the White Horse. I know that in that moment I was wishing. Thankfully, my wish came true. I wonder now if I walk the paths as a gratitude to the deep connection that I felt then. The connection I recognised was for all the people and places that had come before. So if paths and birds come into my paintings to remind me of spirit and direction, then I thank them for it.

'I Dream'.