Showing posts with label North. Show all posts
Showing posts with label North. Show all posts
Friday, 1 May 2015
Tuesday, 1 October 2013
mountains without end
My new book, "Lesley Punton - mountains without end" has come back from the printers. Here's a preview of a few spreads from the book. Sandie Macrae, Director of ROOM, and ROOMBOOKS - the gallery's publishing arm, has written the foreword. Thomas A Clark has written an essay on my practice entitled On Looking at Mountains, as has Dr David Watson in his piece Walking as Knowing, and Alec Finlay has contributed a poem Pataphysical Cuillin. Some of my own writings, fragments of which appear within this blog, are included in texts at the end that collectively come under the heading notebook.
ISBN 978-0-9549915-6-2
edition of 1000
64pp, full colour, soft-back, burst bound, lithographically printed, 246x189mm
Contributors (text) Thomas A Clark (UK), Dr David Watson (Australia), Alec Finlay (UK), Sandie Macrae (UK) & Lesley Punton (UK)
Published by ROOMBOOKS
Date : September 2013
£10 + p&p available directly from my website and at Aye Aye Books, Centre for Contemporary Art, Glasgow.
Tuesday, 1 November 2011
Schiehallion bivvy part 2
I posted some time back about my experience of bivvying on the summit of the mountain Schiehallion, where Jim & I created two pinhole photographs. I also filmed much of the creation of the work and have finally edited it.
Friday, 5 August 2011
challenges to navigation
Having just arrived in Sydney, Australia, and going out walking after sunset (abruptly early having come from our Scottish summer with long hours of daylight) we looked up to the winter night sky and it occurred to us that we didn't recognise anything.
Similarly, orienting oneself with sun proves confusing until one realises that whilst the sun still rises in the east and sets in the west, it's movement over the sky is in the northern half of the sky, as opposed to the south in the northern hemisphere.
"The shadow of a sun dial moves clockwise in the northern hemisphere (opposite of the southern hemisphere). During the day the sun tends to raise to its maximum at a southerly position, whereas in the southern hemisphere it raises to a maximum that is northerly in position (as it tends towards the direction of the equator). In both hemispheres the sun rises in the east and sets in the west."
Climbing mountains here, the North face is the gentler side, the more temperate.
"The shadow of a sun dial moves clockwise in the northern hemisphere (opposite of the southern hemisphere). During the day the sun tends to raise to its maximum at a southerly position, whereas in the southern hemisphere it raises to a maximum that is northerly in position (as it tends towards the direction of the equator). In both hemispheres the sun rises in the east and sets in the west."
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| the night sky in the Southern Hemisphere |
Tuesday, 10 May 2011
the fram
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| Blankets from the cabin of The Fram. L Punton 2006/2011 |
Sunday, 2 May 2010
the solitude trilogy : part 1
I've been listening to one of Glenn Gould's CBC radio broadcasts that he made in in the 1967 entitled "the idea of North". It's a collage of various people who live in or have a relationship with the North, and in this instance, the North of Gould's native Canada. It can be quite difficult to follow or hear as he's layered some of the voices of the 5 people interviewed over one another so that there's a fading ebb and flow of text - presumably the creativity of Glenn Gould "the pianist" was something that he wasn't willing to sacrifice for the sake of documentary clarity, and here too Gould was trying to create an audio work, rather than simply a piece of public broadcasting. Radio as art as it were. In fact, he often described his radio works as contrapuntal, borrowing the term from music and characteristic of the Bach repertoire he's most widely known for. He made these radio broadcasts after his retirement from the international recital/concert citcuit.
The piece concentrates on how people view and interact with the North as both a space and an idea, and crucially, isn't simply a romantic treatise on solitude, although of course, it acknowledges romanticism as a spur to movements Northwards. Gould says the work "sought to examine the effects of solitude and isolation upon those who have lived in the Arctic or sub-Arctic".
I still have the other two pieces to listen to, but have transcribed some of the quotes from the piece I found most interesting.
I've long been intrigued by that incredible tapestry of tundra and taiga which constitutes the Arctic and Subarctic of our country. I've read about it, written about it and even pulled up my parka once and gone there; yet, like all but a very few Canadians, I've had no real experience of the North. I've remained, of necessity, an outsider. And the North has remained for me a convenient place to dream about, spin tall tales about, and in the end, avoid. – Glenn Gould during the introduction to the idea of North.
..three of the various voices from the piece:
You're excluding the rest of the world that will never understand, and you've made your own world with these other people, and probably you'll never know, and what nobody else will know is whether you're kidding yourself or not. Have you really made your peace with these other people or, or have you made a peace because the only alternative is a kind of crack-up?
I was in many repsects solitary, but in a strange way the North has made me more, sort of, gregarious, 'cos the North does show you exactly how much you rely on your fellow man, what the sense of community means. The sense of community in the North, unlike in the South, is a matter of life and death. The thing about the North of course, in personal terms is that in the North you feel that ..it's so big, it's so vast, it's so immense, it cares so little and, and this sort of diminishes you, and then you think "my god, I am here, I've got here, I live here, I live, I breathe, I walk, I laugh, I have companions."
I found that the wide open spaces concept isn't quite what it's cracked up to be. I felt cooped-in in the wide open spaces because I was so afraid to get lost, that the environment around me, while being vast in the physical sense - one could see theoretically for a thousand miles, it was as nothing was in the way to break your view - it was surrounded on each side by dangers, dangers for instance of getting lost, that this was, to me, the biggest danger of all.
The piece concentrates on how people view and interact with the North as both a space and an idea, and crucially, isn't simply a romantic treatise on solitude, although of course, it acknowledges romanticism as a spur to movements Northwards. Gould says the work "sought to examine the effects of solitude and isolation upon those who have lived in the Arctic or sub-Arctic".
I still have the other two pieces to listen to, but have transcribed some of the quotes from the piece I found most interesting.
I've long been intrigued by that incredible tapestry of tundra and taiga which constitutes the Arctic and Subarctic of our country. I've read about it, written about it and even pulled up my parka once and gone there; yet, like all but a very few Canadians, I've had no real experience of the North. I've remained, of necessity, an outsider. And the North has remained for me a convenient place to dream about, spin tall tales about, and in the end, avoid. – Glenn Gould during the introduction to the idea of North.
..three of the various voices from the piece:
You're excluding the rest of the world that will never understand, and you've made your own world with these other people, and probably you'll never know, and what nobody else will know is whether you're kidding yourself or not. Have you really made your peace with these other people or, or have you made a peace because the only alternative is a kind of crack-up?
I was in many repsects solitary, but in a strange way the North has made me more, sort of, gregarious, 'cos the North does show you exactly how much you rely on your fellow man, what the sense of community means. The sense of community in the North, unlike in the South, is a matter of life and death. The thing about the North of course, in personal terms is that in the North you feel that ..it's so big, it's so vast, it's so immense, it cares so little and, and this sort of diminishes you, and then you think "my god, I am here, I've got here, I live here, I live, I breathe, I walk, I laugh, I have companions."
I found that the wide open spaces concept isn't quite what it's cracked up to be. I felt cooped-in in the wide open spaces because I was so afraid to get lost, that the environment around me, while being vast in the physical sense - one could see theoretically for a thousand miles, it was as nothing was in the way to break your view - it was surrounded on each side by dangers, dangers for instance of getting lost, that this was, to me, the biggest danger of all.
Saturday, 6 February 2010
ultima thule
Thule (pronounced /ˈθ(j)uːli/; Greek Θούλη, Thoulē), also spelled Thula, Thila, or Thyïlea, is, in classical literature, a place, usually an island. Ancient European descriptions and maps locate it either in the far north, sometimes as the Orkney Islands, Shetland Islands or Scandanavia, or in the late middle ages and renaissance as Iceland or Greenland. Another suggested location is Saaremaa in the Baltic Sea.
Ultima Thule in medieval geographies may also denote any distant place located beyond the "borders of the known world."
Is this small island Ultima Thule - the mythical, farthest north piece of land? Before satellite imaging, google earth, GPS positioning and so on, our knowledge still knew some limits, and the mythical northerly land of Ultima Thule saw various claims to it's location, the proposed sites progressively moving further north as exploration and discovery advanced. Theoretically at least, we should be able to view from the sky where this most northerly piece of land lies, and allow the mystery of Ultima Thule to be solved. Thankfully, it's not that easy. Scientists and explorers (and the odd eccentric) have continued to try to locate the spot, and arguments and splits between opposing groups has meant that there is still continuing debate as to where the land might be, each faction claiming their own success in locating Ultima Thule.
The problem comes from what one defines as an island. A few years back, a group reached a bed of shingle and rock off the north coast of Greenland, naming it Ultima Thule, but the problem with naming and fixing any location so far north in the arctic sea ice, is that such land spits, shingle deposits, sand banks, etc, are mutable. As the ice pack ebbs and flows, land appears and disappears seasonally, often transformed along the way. With global warming, new land is constantly being discovered, only to be lost the next year - Phantom Islands, as it were. At the time of photographing, the image above was considered to be the limits of northern land, but even this has since been disproved. Looking for this evidence online, I was initially frustrated that even with modern technology, we still couldn't locate this place, but now that I think more, I'm relieved that at least one of the last mysteries of the earth's landforms remains elusive. As soon as the furthest posssible place in the world becomes a place, the unknown becomes known and leadenly fixed, and the space of dreams and imagination dies just a little bit more. And while the romance of going to the farthest place has sparked the imagination of a few, it doesn't quite have the draw of an Everest, of summiting an unclimbed peak or any one of the many permutations that polar and mountain explorers have challenged themselves to (first woman, youngest, oldest, fastest, to reach both poles, 7 summitts, the 14 peaks above 8000m etc - the permutations of being the 'first' seem endless).
There's a distinct lack of glamour in the actual trip, and the cost of achieving this is so prohibitive that it remains unlikely that many will seek out the challenge, a challenge that looks equally likely to be disproved almost as soon as "success" is achieved.
Ultima Thule in medieval geographies may also denote any distant place located beyond the "borders of the known world."
(from Wikipedia)
Is this small island Ultima Thule - the mythical, farthest north piece of land? Before satellite imaging, google earth, GPS positioning and so on, our knowledge still knew some limits, and the mythical northerly land of Ultima Thule saw various claims to it's location, the proposed sites progressively moving further north as exploration and discovery advanced. Theoretically at least, we should be able to view from the sky where this most northerly piece of land lies, and allow the mystery of Ultima Thule to be solved. Thankfully, it's not that easy. Scientists and explorers (and the odd eccentric) have continued to try to locate the spot, and arguments and splits between opposing groups has meant that there is still continuing debate as to where the land might be, each faction claiming their own success in locating Ultima Thule.
The problem comes from what one defines as an island. A few years back, a group reached a bed of shingle and rock off the north coast of Greenland, naming it Ultima Thule, but the problem with naming and fixing any location so far north in the arctic sea ice, is that such land spits, shingle deposits, sand banks, etc, are mutable. As the ice pack ebbs and flows, land appears and disappears seasonally, often transformed along the way. With global warming, new land is constantly being discovered, only to be lost the next year - Phantom Islands, as it were. At the time of photographing, the image above was considered to be the limits of northern land, but even this has since been disproved. Looking for this evidence online, I was initially frustrated that even with modern technology, we still couldn't locate this place, but now that I think more, I'm relieved that at least one of the last mysteries of the earth's landforms remains elusive. As soon as the furthest posssible place in the world becomes a place, the unknown becomes known and leadenly fixed, and the space of dreams and imagination dies just a little bit more. And while the romance of going to the farthest place has sparked the imagination of a few, it doesn't quite have the draw of an Everest, of summiting an unclimbed peak or any one of the many permutations that polar and mountain explorers have challenged themselves to (first woman, youngest, oldest, fastest, to reach both poles, 7 summitts, the 14 peaks above 8000m etc - the permutations of being the 'first' seem endless).
There's a distinct lack of glamour in the actual trip, and the cost of achieving this is so prohibitive that it remains unlikely that many will seek out the challenge, a challenge that looks equally likely to be disproved almost as soon as "success" is achieved.
Thursday, 7 January 2010
New Year's Day
New Year's Day 2010 on the summit of Maol Chean Dearg, looking over to Beinn Alligin in Torridon, Scotland
New Year's Eve
The full (and also blue) moon on the last day of 2009 meant that the Applecross hills and the Bealach na Ba were clearly visible all night and moonlit walks were a distinct (if cold) possibility. This image was made at 11.00pm on New Year's Eve.
Tuesday, 29 December 2009
to the hills
...an apt post for today before we drive up to Kishorn and climb some of the Coulin Forest hills. This image by Laurie Clark is very close to my heart, and as such, is pinned to the inside of my front door so that I see it every time I leave my home. Luckily, with the orientation of the door, the arrow conveniently points North!
Saturday, 12 December 2009
Nord
Our Christmas card for this year is back from the printers...
It depicts a snow covered direction indicator pointing to other Alpine peaks at Les Grands Montets, Chamonix. (photo taken by Jim Hamlyn)
Friday, 13 November 2009
homage to Roger Fenton
Lesley Punton, Homage to Roger Fenton: Boules, Silver Gelatin Print, 1997
I've never ever shown this photograph. It was simply made as a bit of fun when I was on a residency in 1997 in Gallivare, in Swedish Lappland, North of the arctic circle - the farthest North I'd ever been. At that time, I'd been making 5x4 format black & white images where I'd photographed quarries, scrub land, boulder fields etc in an attempt to find a space that somehow resembled the surface of the moon. Spending time with a disparate group of artists from (mainly) Scandanavia, we often played boules and, being in the habit of looking at the ground and thinking of ideas surrounding wastelands/wilderness/deserts, I was struck by the resemblance that the fall of the boules in one particular game had to Roger Fenton's seminal photograph valley of the shadow of death depicting the aftermath of a battle in the Crimean War with cannonballs strewn over the ground. Like Fenton, I staged it again whan all the players had left (though in my case they had all gone inside for tea!).
Roger Fenton, Valley of the shadow of death, 1855, Getty Museum
Monday, 9 November 2009
farthest north
On June 24th 2008, at 12.05am, Jim and I made a walk up Ben Hope, Scotland’s most northerly mountain over 3000ft, with the aim of finding (because of it’s elevation) a place on this island where the sun didn’t set. Of course, it turned out that the sun did indeed set, but in the two hours in which we climbed to reach the summit, we didn’t find recourse to use head-torches and the sun only just dipped below the horizon. “Maximum black” was at around 1am, but still there was sufficient light to be able to safely keep our footing. Dawn came at around 3am and, after an extremely cold hour on the summit, we walked down as colour began to penetrate the ground below us.
looking North East from the summit at 2.00am
trig point inside shelter cairn facing South
looking East towards the moon
Friday, 18 September 2009
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