An old, old, place...

The village where I live “is an old, old, place…” (Aurthur Mee, 1936, In A Guide to St Marys Church and the History of Litton, by Christopher Booker 2019). Centred on the 14th century church, itself replacing one far older, bounded by ancient Oak, Ash and Yew, encircled by the Mendip hills and the river; the Domesday Book records three watermills powered by the fast flowing Chew, Litton being Anglo Saxon for ‘a settlement by a torrent’. Traces of medieval ridge and furrow fields to the east; holloways tracing ancient routes, hewn deep into the ground. It is a landscape which gives tangible expression to Ingold’s ‘dwelling perspective’ whereby “the landscape is constituted as an enduring record of and testimony to- the lives and works of past generations who have dwelt within it, and in so doing, have left something of themselves” (Ingold the temporality of landscape prologue)

Hollowmarsh

A walk to Hollowmarsh. I am fascinated by this small area of land which runs from the northern edge of Litton along the valley floor.

I had thought that the field systems were recent, maybe imposed since enclosure. They are actually far older, evidence of a medieval ridge and furrow system which divided the land into regular parcels in order to dole out strips equally.

Along the boundary of one of the fields the oak trees and hazel has been cut back. The oaks are gnarled and ancient.

Photograph of a puddle.

A photograph of a puddle, taken from above in low winter light; twigs and leaves from the hedgerow and rotting leaves suspended in the water. This image has become crucially important to my ongoing practice. It seems to combine for me many aspects of what Tim Ingold describes as the ‘Temporality of Landscape’. The bridle path to Hinton Blewitt through Hollowmarsh, where this image was taken, has existed for centuries, worn into the landscape through footfall and hooves and cart wheels; the puddle and the leaves the work of one season; the Oak and Ash trees bordering the lane hundreds of years old.

My Home Studio - Litton, Somerset

This space has had many lives. Built as a calving shed in the 19th century, the terracotta feed channel still remains, running along the wall under the sink. Converted to a garage and boat store, an enormous white metal 1970s up and over garage door made the space both dark and freezing. Replacing the garage door with vast aluminium windows, facing due west towards the Mendip Hills, flooded the space with light. Everything else has been left untouched. The walls still peeling lime plaster over stone, concrete and metal dividing the space, on one side the kiln, sink, drying shelves and glaze materials; on the other tables for clay work and a dry table for print making and drawing. The studio is embedded in the landscape, looking out over fields and woods and the garden. Stone walls and terracotta pan tiled roof like so many Somerset buildings. It is a space I could spend all my days in.