So, while the light fails / On a winter's afternoon, in a secluded chapel / History is now and England. T.S.Eliot wrote these lines in 1942, a tiny fragment of the poem Little Gidding that became the fourth of the Four Quartets- ..."turn behind the pig-sty to the dull facade...". This tiny eponymous church was his inspiration, out in the fields of lonely Huntingdonshire. It wasn't winter on my visit, but the light was thinking about failing until I arrived at the door and the sun found its way around the clouds and through a tiny gap in the trees in order to light the west front and the single bellrope, or 'sally' as I now know it's called.Here was once a ruinous medieval church, restored by the religious community founded by Nicholas Ferrar in 1624. Much taken with hand-writing books and embroidery, they kept having to put down quills and needles in order to troop in here three times a day for services. Charles I came here three times, but by the 1650s it was all over. The west facade is of 1714, with a bellcote designed by someone who must have looked at Hawksmoor's London churches. Inside are collegiate-style pews facing the tiny aisle, and a visitors' book with biro'd comments from Eliot afficianados. Here, the intersection of the timeless moment / Is England and nowhere. Never and always.
Peter: Unmitigated England at its very best. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Having just spent the best part of the day trying to lodge some plans with London Borough of Hounslow Building Control at, of course, Hounslow Civic Centre (Architect and Director General Mr F Kafka)my spirit soared to read your post and view the photos. The Church and 'sally' might just as well be on another planet, let alone the same island. Chew, spit, grizzle, hiss.
Quite - and along those very lines - at Diplo hall we have the milk decanted from those unspeakable plastic containers into wide topped '50s 1 pint Unigate botles to compliment the Oxford Jar and Colman's Tin at the breakfast table. Carry on.
I am a designer, writer and photographer who spends all his time looking at England, particularly buildings and the countryside. But I have a leaning towards the slightly odd and neglected, the unsung elements that make England such an interesting place to live in. I am the author and photographer of over 25 books, in particular Unmitigated England (Adelphi 2006), More from Unmitigated England (Adelphi 2007), Cross Country (Wiley 2011), The Cigarette Papers (Frances Lincoln 2012), Preposterous Erections (Frances Lincoln 2012) and English Allsorts (Adelphi 2015)
"Open this book with reverence. It is a hymn to England". Clive Aslet
Preposterous Erections
"Enchanting...delightful". The Bookseller "Cheekily named" We Love This Book
The Cigarette Papers
"Unexpectedly pleasing and engrossing...beautifully illustrated". The Bookseller
Cross Country
"Until the happy advent of Peter Ashley's Cross Country it has, ironically, been foreigners who have been best at celebrating Englishness". Christina Hardyment / The Independent
More from Unmitigated England
"Give this book to someone you know- if not everyone you know." Simon Heffer, Country Life. "When it comes to spotting the small but telling details of Englishness, Peter Ashley has no equal." Michael Prodger, Sunday Telegraph
7 comments:
That's a lovely shot of the bellrope. Er, 'Sally' I mean.
Peter: Unmitigated England at its very best. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Having just spent the best part of the day trying to lodge some plans with London Borough of Hounslow Building Control at, of course, Hounslow Civic Centre (Architect and Director General Mr F Kafka)my spirit soared to read your post and view the photos. The Church and 'sally' might just as well be on another planet, let alone the same island. Chew, spit, grizzle, hiss.
Marvellous sense of history seen in what's still there now - which was what Eliot was on about too.
Quite - and along those very lines - at Diplo hall we have the milk decanted from those unspeakable plastic containers into wide topped '50s 1 pint Unigate botles to compliment the Oxford Jar and Colman's Tin at the breakfast table. Carry on.
Do you really Diplo? I never knew that.
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