Tag: art

June 30th – There’s a Matt Smith fan in Darlaston – what else can explain the stencils of his face as Doctor Who stencilled around about?

This is one I only discovered by chance, just on the wall by the steps to the canal from the Willenhall Road Bridge at Darlaston Green.

It’s not Banksy, but it’s well thought out and executed.

March 19th – In a dark, unlit tunnel under Spaghetti Junction, in the exact spot where, a year ago, Bill Drummond placed thousands of daffodils in jam jars under the skylight, he (or someone acting in his spirit) has left an important message Birmingham (and indeed all of us) should heed.

Brilliant. Just brilliant

November 20th – In Kings Hill Park in Darlaston, there’s a lovely recent sculpture. Paid for by lottery funding, it represents the resurgence of nature post-industrialisation, and the globe of leaf and bird silhouettes is stunning. 

Each side of the supporting plinth is a cast metal relief depicting aspects of local history and life; industry, the zeppelin raid, football and other iconic aspects of Darlaston culture. I particularly liked the bike and horseshoe nails.

It’s a commanding and fascinating thing in a great location, and I could look at it for ages. So much better than a lot of such commissioned work, this has a real feeling of being of its community, without feeling contrived, or art-by-numbers.

The fact that it took real artistic skill to create also helps.

A fine thing.

April 9th – This… this, it’s remarkable.

   

I was shooting along the towpath, in the part of Spaghetti Junction where there’s a covered, cavernous tunnel over the canal. It’s dark under there; and eerie. It can be a little scary – there is no electric light there, and the only daylight is from the portals and small, irregular metre-square apertures in the roof, that let in shafts of sunlight. It’s a very odd, otherworldly spot.

I cycle through here generally without stopping. But today, a patch of yellow caught my eye in the admitted beam of light. 

I stopped. I backed up. I stood, open mouthed.

   

Hundreds, possibly more than a thousand daffodils in small jars. Each with water in, in the circle of light. Decaying, gone over. Placed with what must have been care, it would have taken a large effort to get them and the jars to that spot. It’s not accessible. It would have perhaps taken a boat… or some climbing. But why? Was it art? Obsessiveness? 

I was captivated. The pictures don’t do it justice. It’s stunning. 

   

When I got home, I looked at the pictures. I puzzled over them. I asked twitter: twitter knew. Thanks to @nebolland, @kenofski, @brumcyclist and @cybrum who enlightened me.

It turns out it’s art. It was carried out by artist, art world enfant terrible and extraordinary publicist Bill Drummond, once of the KLF. 

Read about Bill and his Birmingham project here.

You can say what you like, that had a massive impact on me. That was bloody genius. I have total respect for it.

February 5th – I know little about this, and although peripherally aware of the Aldridge Garden of Reflection for some time (if that’s the right name), I’d never stopped to look. Today, passing through the town on my way home, I stopped to check it out.

On the corner of the High Street and Little Aston Road is a small, landscaped and sculpturally paved area with benches, flowerbeds and decorative friezes in the paving. It’s very sweet, and a little oasis. The reliefs in the paving relate to aspects of Aldrige life – history, present and so forth. There’s an interesting large compass too, pointing out the nearby major landmarks. Overall I was very impressed.

Not sure who was behind this, although Aldridge Rotary Club are mentioned. I must find out more about it.

I wish I’d stopped to look here sooner…

December 4th – I was in Leicester again, but on a better day. Feeling a lot better, the weather was quite nice too, if a little nippy. For years, I’ve been passing the care home near South Wigston station, and admiring the treestump carvings in the garden. I’ve never thought to photograph them until today. They’re all beautifully observed, and the photo of the squirrel one doesn’t do it justice. What lovely things to sit in a dayroom and look out upon…

November 15th – It had been a long day, the energy was low, and I didn’t have much time. I spun up the High Street at teatime and rode the backstreets for a bit. Returning, I looked at something thats so familiar, I rarely pay it much attention: Morris, the Brownhills Miner. Much as I feel uncomfortable with the extravagance in a faltering town, I do love him. John McKenna’s work in drafting all those fragments, then welding them together in a finite-element model like this is stunning, and always has been. So much better than the laser cut by numbers tat in Walsall Wood, this took a really skilled artist a huge amount of time to design, facilitate and build. I just wish the blue lights didn’t make it look so cheap.

Morris is such an obvious and cliched subject, I’ve only rarely featured him here, but it’s worth it, once in a while, just to share him. The politics and cost aside, it’s a terrific thing.