The Kelpies are sculptures a hundred feet high that sit beside the M9 motorway in Falkirk, Scotland. They are certainly impressive although I don’t quite see the point. Yes, it would be nicer if the pylons weren’t there, but never mind, you are meant to be distracted by the penetrating stare of the one on the left, while the other does that whole head-tossing thing, all in tons of steel.
From a fake old picture to some real ones. These were taken in around 1945 when my Granddad, Harold Whitworth — my father’s father — was serving in Egypt towards the end of World War 2. He’s the chap with the dapper moustache sat down next to the guy in the turban; and the one on the left of the other shot. (Mildly dubious it might be to dress as a native stereotype, but I have photos of myself doing much the same in Fiji.) Anyway, these are the kinds of family references that now seem obligatory when visiting my parents for the annual-Xmas get-together — last year it was the family tree; in 2023, the box of very old photos.
I don’t honestly remember Granddad ever saying much about his experiences in the war; he was certainly not one of those ex-soldiers who go on about it to anyone who will listen. In these pictures it all looks like an extended holiday, but I’m sure it wasn’t.
Castleford is a biggish place (45,000 residents) and I’ve lived not far from it for 30 years now, but today was the first time I had visited. (Yes, it was for football.) I was struck by how unreconstructed much of it was, rows of terraced houses and back alleys like this one. Most now filled with cars, spoiling the ambience a little, but this alley was clear, and with a bit of post-production I think this is not a bad facsimile of how it probably looked 60 years ago. There’s only one anachronism — the wheelie bins — but even those I will let pass.
The last class of the semester, and as I’m on sabbatical for several months next year, the last one for me until late September 2024. And that’s just fine by me. I do — generally — like teaching but it is tiring, time-consuming work and if I want to do some proper thinking I can do with taking a break from it. The last class of the semester also gives rise to the annual ceremony of ‘having pictures taken with one’s professor’ — I make people upset if a 20-minute window isn’t offered up at the end.
Watching them, watching me? Actually it’s very unlikely anyone is actually ‘watching’ at any given moment, but that’s Michel Foucault’s point about the surveillance society — people discipline themselves anyway. What I’d really like to know is why someone felt two cameras, pointing in the same direction, were really needed to monitor the ‘forgotten footbridge‘ at Manchester Victoria station. Why buy only one, when money can be wasted on two to do exactly the same pointless job?
A Friday night out, for me and for them. And why not spend it at a football match. It was damn cold though: as 5ºC seemed a reasonable estimation I’d say it was about 15ºC cooler than my last one, on Sunday. We all needed some warm food.
Time to kill before the 11:00 meeting in the city centre. Tea needed to be drunk. Monochrome needed to be used to disguise the fact that this shot is basically out of focus, but losing the colour means I can go for the rustic 1960s bistro effect. Which I’m sure is how Caffe Nero wants to be seen (note: other corporate coffee bar providers are available).
The city of Chester has one of two remaining complete sets of city walls in the UK (the other is Derry). Sitting out and trying to have a quiet lunchtime beer under the famous Eastgate clock was not a plan I entertained for more than a few minutes, but at least I got a photo — which turned out much better in black and white. The first portrait orientation for a long while, too: almost all of the shots on here are now landscape, but this is an exception.
It was still there when I passed it again in the early evening, too. Shocking, what is the world coming to, etc etc.
A few shots of cinema (or TV, or laptop) screens have featured on here down the years. I suppose it’s a bit of a cheat, but I returned to work today, spent all day at home (work+home, it’s the 21st century way), and there wasn’t much else to look at. Anyway, I quite like this one, the focus seems effective, though of course that’s the work of the cinematographer rather than me — hence the point about cheating.
The movie is Anatomy of a Murder, pretty good, maybe 20 minutes too long though.
Being 42 