April foolery
This clock was designed by Michael N. Oxenham and made by Robert Race. It was put up to commemorate the Millennium and I prefer it to some of the more grandiose and overblown structures that were erected at that time. It makes a pleasant distraction on the front of a timber-framed building, now a gallery, in the square in the Herefordshire town of Bromyard, a place full of interest, to which I hope to return. Meanwhile I shall savour this unusual way of making a mark and marking the time.
6 comments:
Ooh er missus. How lovely, and as you say, a pleasant change to some of the Millennium souvenir signing we've had to endure. One village sign near us looks more like a Transylvanian roadside shrine, the sort Dracula's coach speeds by with black-plumed horses.
"And I prefer it to some of the grandiose and overblown..." oh, Mr Wilko, you are so English in your diffidence. And utterly right of course. Wonderful stuff. Here in our wretched part of northern Italy, to mark the year of Our Lord 2000, they put up an intricate concrete fountain with a lot of marble facing but not much spurting. Because the project came in very late and very over budget and because they had booked the (then) Italian equivalent of Noel Edmonds to come and open it on December 31, 1999, they skimped on some of the, er, final detailing. It is now limp, rusting, leaking and definitely not spurting. I cannot tell you how ghastly it is. I think you lot got off lightly. Oh. I've just remembered The Dome. Where do we stand on this? And where do we stand on Anthony Charles Lyndon Blair?
The Dome is an appalling meniscus that never should have risen above the polluted land of the Woolwich peninsula. I never saw its contents, but the years that the various 'authorities' (I use this term loosely) spent flailing around trying to decide what to put inside this silo of emptiness made one's heart sink. My words 'grandiose and overblown' were meant to put people in mind of the dome without actually uttering the four-letter word. I'm no fan of Mr Tony Blair, though I've always rather liked his middle names, while at the same time never being able to remember whether it's 'Linton' or 'Lyndon'. But what makes my mind boggle most in your comment is the marvellous image that the phrase 'Italian equivalent of Noel Edmonds' conjures up.
One late afternoon a couple of winters ago, I wandered around Bromyard. It seemed rather down at heel and deserted. Surreally, in each of the shop windows there was a life-sized knitted woolen figure - I think it was a local fundraiser. trying to buy things was a bit problematic. My partner was rather taken with a nice red dress in a charity shop, but was told that it would be too small for her and anyway it was not for sale. In one antique shop we wandered into, we were told they couldn't sell us anything since they had not opened yet and at another the bloke at the back said they had better items at the shop next door. I liked Bromyard's saucy sign though.
Thanks for your comment Ed. The place does indeed seem down at heel, and it's curious that a place with so many attractive old shop fronts finds it so hard to sell things. I live in a small town myself and I know that the economics of small towns are more complex and unpredictable than one would think – but it sure doesn't help if shopkeepers won't actually sell their goods.
There is a wood turner I use who operates out of a Georgian shopfront in wavertree Liverpool.His work is excellent....that is when you can get him to actually open the door that is.He seems to operate an opening regime that only he undestands and only he is privy to...he is rather good though.
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