Another week immersed in my canal bridge series; running, photographing, writing, drawing and monoprinting. Ink, dye, cloth, papers of tissue, washi and bread and butter. Working in charcoal or graphite I draw preliminary tonal compositions where photo, observation and memory combine to capture the essence of each bridge’s character.
Like a street artist’s tag you sweep an arc across the canal.
Placed with permanence, listed to prevent erasure.
Bridges are places but, they are not destinations. They provide connections, pathways and geographic markers. Their story is created by the people and wildlife that use them. The cut of the canal often stands as a place between. Villages, farms, housing estates, factories and footpaths. It is frequented by walkers and runners, factory workers on a smoke break, commuters on bikes, drinkers partying or numbing. There is an edge here and the bridges join the edges like a row of insertion stitches.
You stand out of bounds, observing the muddied, silted society, which treads your path.
Which litter your path, with lunchtime wrappers, bottles of dog and an old pair of pants.
Maria Harryman (Comstock) 