#080: The Approaching Silence

A sound and film installation taking up a full room in a gallery.  The sound of birdsong can be heard and a single 360 degree stationary shot of the corresponding forest or wood can be seen projected onto the walls of the gallery.  Each soundscape and film lasts 60 seconds but the birdsong slowly starts to fade after thirty seconds leaving the gallery silent for ten seconds while the film plays on before suddenly switching to another scene and soundscape.  

After Butler, S. and Morisson, C. (2021) We reconstructed birdsong soundscapes from over 200,000 places: and they’re getting quieter. Available at: https://theconversation.com/we-reconstructed-birdsong-soundscapes-from-over-200-000-places-and-theyre-getting-quieter-171325?utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Latest%20from%20The%20Conversation%20for%20November%2030%202021%20-%202131921100&utm_content=Latest%20from%20The%20Conversation%20for%20November%2030%202021%20-%202131921100+CID_742766558f461b85ae3bf319bf5d2b0a&utm_source=campaign_monitor_uk&utm_term=We%20reconstructed%20birdsong%20soundscapes%20from%20over%20200000%20places%20and%20theyre%20getting%20quieter (Accessed: 30 November 2021).

#079: The Power of Words (?)

A white canvas that features one line of simple black lettering: 

What do you sea?

#078: Relief

Watercolour of a figure walking along a beach, looking ahead.  The tide is out and the flat sand extends to the horizon.  Beyond the figure, the sunlight is reflecting off the wet sand, giving the impression that there are large patches of golden water beneath the clear blue sky.

A simple frame surrounds the picture.  Along its bottom edge is engraved: “that tranquil moment / when it all comes together. / the space that opens.”

The figure is me.

#077: The Sunday Afternoon Flood

Oil on canvas.  A view of the concourse at London Euston Station on a Sunday afternoon.  

A large crowd is spread out across the wide space.  

A few people are moving toward, or from, the ticket office at the left hand side, for refreshment at the right hand side, or heading towards WHSmiths, but no one at this point is heading to or from the platforms.

The vast majority of people, standing on their own or in small groups, with bags at their feet are looking up at the board of destinations, waiting for their platform number to appear.

#076: Frozen Puddles

Oil on canvas.  View at Maidstone East Station of people waiting for the London train (on Platform 1) in the late autumn, early morning, gloaming.  

They are variously looking down at the ground, their phone, or a book, magazine or paper.  The occasional person is either staring up the track searching for a light in the tunnel; or into the distance across the tracks, possibly watching people on the opposite platform.

Of course, when things go wrong, the scene is very different.  That's when people talk to each other.

#075: The River Across Joiner Street

Oil on canvas.  A painting of the view looking along Joiner Street during a morning rush hour.  A constant river of people flow between the main London Bridge station to the underground station.  One sole commuter stands watching, waiting for their chance to cross through the stream and carry on along the street.

#074: The Morning Tide Fills the Channels

Oil on canvas.  A painting of London Liverpool Street Station in this morning’s rush hour, as viewed from the platform above the concourse at the eastern side of the station, looking west back across the concourse, the huge board of destinations obscuring the view of half the station. 

While much of the scene is still, lines of matchstick people show the movement around the concourse, forming lines showing the streams that form between the platforms and various exits (up, off towards Bishopsgate, down towards Broadgate, and the Underground station to the right (and left)), as well as little puddles forming of people waiting for trains, or for other people to join them.

Of the people, mostly only their heads are in view, a variety of faces, hair colour and hats visible - these, together with a mix of colours, both bright and dull, from clothes and bags give the streams a sort of rainbow effect.

Funnily enough, my recent experiences of Liverpool Street in the morning are very different to how I was imagining it above.  There’s not all those many people at all.  Far more of a trickle, you might say.

And it’s completely different in the evening, of course.  Much more of a high tide or flood with people waiting and watching for their platform to be announced with little streams of people darting in between them heading for theirs; or those arriving for evening/night work or an evening out.