generosity — Blog

In July 2020, I was finally able to return to the island of Anglesey and the Amlwch railway line to complete “Rhoddion”, a project that has lain dormant during the long months of the coronavirus lockdown. It was the culmination of my reflection on the idea of generosity, as well as forming a part of my final body of work for my Masters in Fine Art at Oxford Brookes University.

As always, it was wonderful to be back on the island and to find the line once again. Though apparently little changed from the first time I had explored it in Autumn 2019, these visits have always emphasised to me the slow, relentless and largely invisible process of decay that is affecting much of the 17 miles of the route. It’s a process that never ceases, despite the valiant efforts of those seeking to restore it.

My job on this visit was to replace seven track ballast stones that I have gilded with copper leaf and kept with me at home all through the coronavirus lockdown. My plan was to replace them in locations along the whole length of the line, and to leave them to their fate - unmarked, unnamed and unexplained. Everything else apart from the simple act of returning the stones to the line - a simple, silent act of generosity, I hope - seemed unnecessary.

From this process, which took me approximately a day and a half to achieve, I generated a series of seven photographs as a documentary record, designed with my MFA final show in mind. They, along with some of my recorded thoughts, can be seen below:

View written transcript

Recording 1: Prelude (4mins 20s):

In which I introduce my project from a lonely overbridge not far from Gaerwen, and make something of false start.

Recording 2: Stone One (2mins 40s)

In which I find my way onto the railway line and place the first of my seven Rhoddion stones in the company of some indifferent sheep

A copper-gilded stone lies beside a rusted railway line, both surrounded by moss and weeds. — “Rhoddion” - Stone no.1 - Mark Clay (2020)

Recording 3: The Rain and The Road (3mins 10s)

Once again, my attempt to place a stone comes to nothing, leaving me to contemplate the rain and the noise of roads.

Recording 4: Stone Two (2mins 50s)

The second “Rhoddion” Stone is put in place, despite water and warnings.

The gilded stone sits directly beside a rusted track chair on a girder bridge. — “Rhoddion” - Stone no.2 - Mark Clay (2020)

Recording 5: Stone Three (2mins 38s)

A silent and thought-provoking location for Stone Three, where I ponder ideas of access and trespass.

The copper-gilded stone lies amongst a huge number of ungilded ballast stones in a relatively lightly overgrown section of the line. But even here, nature is reasserting itself. — “Rhoddion” - Stone no.3 - Mark Clay (2020)

Recording 6: Stone Four (3mins 5s)

Resuming my series of little pilgrimages on the morning of day two, finding the path appears as difficult as finding the railway.

The copper "Rhoddion" stone nestles deep in the undergrowth beside the rusted track. — “Rhoddion” - Stone no.4 - Mark Clay (2020)

Recording 7: Stone Five (2mins 5s)

Gathering a few fragments of broken railway sleeper leads to a reflection on relics and their significance.

A crumbling, dessicated railway sleeper becomes a home for the fifth of the seven "Rhoddion" stones. — “Rhoddion” - Stone no.5 - Mark Clay (2020)

Recording 8: Stone Six (2mins)

Reflecting on how the railway, the roads and the paths of Anglesey dance around each other.

A remote and exposed section of the old line is the place I have chosen for my 6th "Rhoddion Stone".

Recording 9: Stone Seven (2mins 45 s)

The end of the line, in every sense. At the end, there is nothing but the wind.

Right at the end of the line, where two sections of rusted track have parted, I place the final, 7th "Rhoddion" stone".

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As I continue to think about my ongoing MFA research at the beginning of my final term (with the final degree show, in June, appearing on the horizon) I am thinking a great deal right now about generosity.

I’m not long back from the first two weeks of a professional placement at the wonderful Oriel Ynys Mon on the island of Anglesey in North Wales. There, the whole team made me feel extremely welcome and gave me a tremendous experience of two weeks of busy changeovers and exhibition installs. I was definitely the oldest work experience person they’ve ever had (!) and I’m very grateful indeed to the whole team for being so generous with their time, trust and knowledge.

But this is not the only example of generosity that I have found on Ynys Mon. Similarly generous to me have been the team at Lein Amlwch, and especially Walter Glyn Davies, for helping me to learn, discover and understand more about the railway line to Amlwch that they are working hard to restore and which is the subject of my MFA work and final show. Not only have they been very generous to me as a visiting artist offering nothing more than curiosity (and no ability to speak Welsh), but also they are being remarkably generous to this old railway line that has not seen a train since 1992.

Restoring a dormant 17-mile railway line is no easy task. “Every single inch”, says Walter Glyn, is “back-breaking and often heart-breaking”. And it’s being done by people who are unpaid volunteers, out in all weathers, and in the face of no small degree of opposition or indifference. Every rock, every weed, every sleeper and every inch of the line will need their generous spirit of optimism , determination and sheer hard work in order to achieve their goal of seeing trains run on the line again.

This makes me think about generosity in terms of my own artistic response, and perhaps of art in general. It’s not generally a word applied to artists, but I find myself asking why not. There are plenty of examples of artists being accused of being appropriative or exploitative of their subject (here’s a very recent example from last month) and I’m very mindful of this.

So how do I reflect the spirit of generosity that I have discovered, in my work and also in my approach? There are some simple principles that I am adhering to:

Don’t take anything away from the line unless it is of zero (or marginal) use and I have permission. The line belongs to Network Rail, after all, and Lein Amwlch have a license and lease that permits them to work there.
Return those items wherever possible.
Don’t seek to impose my own artistic or authorial view on the railway line, its stories and its people. The future of the railway line is not mine to prejudge or predict. Rather, act as witness, collector or reflector of what the line and its people tells me.
Listen, don’t speak. The last thing the people of Anglesey want or need is another Englishman telling them what to do or think.
Credit and collaborate. There are good examples of this in art too - Sol Lewitt for example.

I have some practical ideas too… and will share them again soon.

Diolch!
Cheers!

Featured posts:

"Rhoddion". On Generosity - Part Three

On generosity