Look up!
Failure is not a word I like to reflect on, however, I failed Maths on two occasions and was bound for a third failure in the future. (I couldn’t spell Helicopter Pilot, now I are one) I was allowed to follow a few subjects to improve my grades, one of these being Art. I concentrated on Calligraphy. The Art master introduced me to Architecture and my eyes were opened.
Pause. As a fit young teenager my father made jobs available for me, during school holidays and revision holidays, on the building sites he managed. I learned from men who were considered by many Home Counties types, to be the lowest of the low. The Irish navvy! Those men knew things an office worker would struggle with. Guided by a Civil Engineer and site foremen they would create the buildings and roads that everybody assumes are easy to form. Not so, my mind was attracted to Civil Engineering, but my brain was too unformed to train as one.
Yet it was here, in the mud, the noise, the concrete and Craic on sites that my interest in architecture was enhanced. Lately a fellow blipper ‘Fuentes3’ has published images of Spanish Churches and buildings. Suddenly dust was blown off a few files back in my Betamax mind. Last week ‘Tempus Fugit’ posted a gravestone and I automatically knew what the symbology meant, or at least most of it.
Over recent months I have purchased books to help reteach myself the basics of Stone Masonry, Wood Craftsmanship, Gargoyles, Grotesques and all the basics of how our great Cathedrals and tiny village churches were constructed.
Nothing changes; in 1987 Edward Rutherford wrote ‘Sarum,’ a novel, sneer not at the back, yet it tells the story of a Stone Mason’s dream to build his Cathedral. To this very day the procedure for building, apart from H&S, HR, Planning Control, ad infinitum, has to be overcome before a spade hits sod. When Sarum was deserted for the lower, roomier space of Salisbury, it was the case that a Bishop or wealthy landowner would search for a Senior Stone Mason, describe the requirements of a Cathedral, have the Mason draw up his plans then set to within the bounds of strictly binding contracts between the money and the builder. Same these days, except for unacceptable cost overruns.
These are Carpenter’s drawings for the Chapter house Roof, base and ceiling at York Minster. You are a minion who uses an old deer skin or piece of sacking to cover your wretched body, no hard hat, no work boots with steel toe-caps, just a few scraps of leather on your feet. But you had a mind, skilled hands, knowledge and the need to feed a family. Gnarled hands built the beauty we see around us in this country. When you approach and enter such a building, stop, look up, absorb, if you can, what you see and reflect on what those pitifully clothed and pitifully paid souls created and left for us. Much like the Irish navvy of today.
Extra, my latest additions.
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