Peripheral Spaces 3 & 4

‘…from Boston to Philadelphia after nightfall, over the Arabian deserts which gleam like mother of pearl, over the Ruhr or the city of Frankfurt, it is as though there were no people, only the things they have made and in which they are hiding. One sees the places where they live and the roads that link them, one sees the smoke rising from their houses and factories, one sees the vehicles in which they sit, but one sees not the people themselves. And yet they are present everywhere upon the face of the earth, extending their dominion by the hour, moving around the honeycombs of towering buildings and tied networks of a complexity that goes far beyond the power of any one individual to imagine, from the thousands of hoists and winches that once worked the South African diamond mines to the floors of today’s stock and commodity exchanges, through which global tides of information flow without cease.’ The Rings of Saturn W.G Sebald

Recently on a Eurostar to Venice, I made a series of quickfire drawings - a trail of motorway headlights, trees on a ridge, a toy town Tesco roof. Scanning the landscape,
drawing fleeting fragments of things that were known and other things that were totally unfamiliar. The concertina book holds a collection of these, unfolding the landscape in time and space. For the first time in history more than half the planets population live in cities, fragments of history remain embedded in the landscape. Psychogeographers like Sebald and Sinclair range through history whilst travelling through place. The concertina book links to time, memory and dreams. How can a landscape seen through a window be so familiar? – we know it, although we haven’t actually been there. How do we know it? How much of our consciousness is shaped by film, tv, photograph, oral history? What occupies the landscape at the same time, living parallel lives? Incidents segue and overlap.