Rachel M Haines (June 8th- 29th)
Wednesday 8th June. After 7 hours of walking, railing, flying, and busing: I have arrived. An epic journey with a particularly traumatizing experience dragging over 20kgs of luggage the wrong way around Birmingham City centre. In place of my usual separation anxiety when putting bags in hold, I had rather mixed feelings about seeing it again after the flight.
I’d like to thank the makers of Lucozade, Kitkats and Lemsip for their support today. Highlights so far: the sea / hills/ rocks and various groups of sheep looking miserable while attempting to avoid the torrential rain.
I settled in rather quickly. My next bag-orientated struggle involved manovering it up the narrow staircases to the 5th floor. It, was I guess a sort of initiation between the tower and I.
After hunter and gathering at the Spar up the road, I have been putting a few plans in place for the next 3 weeks of productivity and procastination. Although, I am confining myself to the tower for the rest of the day, to nurse my inconvenient cold.
I did begin an unexpected project today, due to a broken window pane on the 3rd floor ( which I will patch up soon). So, there are bits of glass on the floor and I’m a forever drawn to incidental arrangements and patterns.
Ps: 1.Ballymena bus station has a good roof for the purpose of listening to rainfall.
2. Pack lighter.
Thursday 9th June. I spend the early/late hours and this morning on the ‘living room’ floor. Armed with a pair of tweezers, replacing all the glass with chalk marks, forming a temporary map…..now its gone. Swept away.
I found some graph paper that I am pleased about.
I decided to venture the beach today, which didn’t take long as there was a very useful signpost. I did get a little lost coming back, but I have confidence in my inner navigation system and all was well- although it did start to rain….alot.
I’m starting to think more practically about making recordings. I want to take advantage of all this ‘bad’ weather. So I’ll probably be making contact mics tomorrow.
This evening I curled up on the beanbag and read a really long magazine article about cell division. Later I tripped a fuse….With that problem solved, but a lot less interest in going to bed, I sat in the kitchen and played with this little plaster model of the tower and a pack of cards…and some forks, lentils, flour, plastic army men, pins curtain pegs, rice , coins. All with late night radio BBC Ulster in the background. With my remaining energy I celebrated my improved breathing by singing loudly in the bathroom.
Sunday 12th. The past few days have been packed with good things. Isobel arrived on Saturday afternoon. We attended a storytelling session at the Ballyeamon Camping Barn http://www.taleteam.demon.co.uk/, a short taxi ride out of Cushendall. These evening’s are organized by professional storyteller, Liz Weir. The group includes regular attendees from the surrounding area and even out towards Belfast, however, as a whole, these evenings represent an international cross-section, with visters from England, chile, Poland, spain and America. In the end music dominated, with banjos and guitars, a banjo-madarian (manjo/banjorian), and the occasional percussion: drum, clappers and…the manjo case. Personal highlights of the evening include songs ‘Man in the moon’ and a late addition by Isobel and Paddy with ‘Mattie Grey’. All in all, a very welcoming bunch of people and an excellent way to spend a Saturday night.
Sunday 12th To the layd church remains, returning on a drafty coastal route. With brilliant views of the village. The rest of the day was a relaxed combination of drinking guinness in the local pub, failing to bake jacket potatoes, more guinness, successfully baking potatoes and a few tense games of line up four. In the evening Isobel and I visited Raymond Watson, a local artist who very kindly cooked us dinner. Here is a blog about a major project he has been working on ‘Flags of hope’ http://www.belfastflags.blogspot.com Now is time for bed for I can hear some loud late night singing from the pub
Monday. It was a morning of light work: reading, interneting, bit of beach based recording. A brief meeting with Mary (the current Ballyeamon Barn keeper and a journalism student from Colarado) at Arthurs. Pretty soon, we found ourselves on the way to Belfast for a few days. Raymond gave us a lift and also showed part of the Falls Area. We visited studio spaces at Conway Mill, which is also next to a 20ft peace line. The day was concluded with an evening of Lasagne, and intense sci fi- THX1138.
Belfast; Sleeping on Isobels couch. I’ve been a tourist, spend a lot of time in Ulster museum , Queen’s Uni ,the botanical gardens/park and generally walked around own as far as my little legs would take me. In the evening we went to a Poetry reading at the Crescent Arts Centre- Ben Maeir.
Wednesday. Glenariff- 6 mile scenic walk- a lot of uphill, but totally worth it.
Friday 17th June. Tried to do some recording today but failed due to scary weather. Later a group of us went to Ossian’s grave, where we jumped and yelled a lot. Found a sheep who was turned upset down and couldn’t get up. (don’t worry it was rescued, although it a bit rubbish that her sheepy friends abandoned her!) Went to joe’s, soaked up some atmos and enjoyed the music, did some drawing!
Saturday 18th June. Cushendun: Caves, Fein stone. Glomoon stone, Rain, wispa bar. storytelling night was a lot bigger this week, even I joined in, and after setting a precedent: played the Piano at Joes.
Sunday 19th June. Isobel’s last day today L. On the bright side she is performing on the acoustic stage at Glastonbury this Saturday!
Monday 20th June. Time for a little isolation. I’ve been doing some some low angle filming on the beach. These are just gentle test pieces, where I begin to get nervous regarding how closely I am holding the camera to the water. I do want to use the rhythmic sound of the waves and I am considering the identity of such sounds in relationship with another variety of wave I have been listening to.
Tuesday 21st June- Saturday 25th
Yep, time for a little bit of interchangeable word play
Wave Tapes: I’ve been making a series of recordings on cassette tape. Upon deciding their placement within the Tower, the amount came to 16. Liz kindly picked up some extra cassettes for me from Ballymena as I am also making copies. Turns out that old radio can record across tapes at double speed. The tapes contain a recording from the radio on side A and a recording from the sea on side B. Each tape has a slightly different set of rules dictating the manner in which the space is navigated: the movement on location and the movement of the tuner. In the last week I am also going to begin compiling a text/script from the dialogue on these tapes, which will hopefully help with titling.
’ I don’t waste water/your never seen anything like it’
Sunday 26th June. Spent most of the day at the beach making another circular pattern mirroring the one I made in the kitchen. In desperate need for a vessel to contain water (to draw with) I may have unwisely used my shoe. The result was rather pagan, the scale and material where much more demanding, physically. I’ll photograph it tomorrow to see how it has deteriorated.
Monday 27th June. Rathlin Island via Ballycastle with the Ballyeomon gang. Apparently, three currents meet in that crossing. Traveling on a ‘Puffin Bus’ we arrived at a gigantic bird colony. The noise was immense, at times tipping into disturbing. Made a few recordings on my Dictaphone. We took a long walk back to the harbour, making the most of our time to explore. Another highlight of the day was introducing Mary to ‘Sticky Plant’.
Tuesday 28th June. Thinking back to a time when I used to record songs of the tv onto cassette, pressing the little mic against the speaker. I guess some production values stay with you. The tapes are made and the copies sit in my luggage, ready to be dwelled upon at a later date. In the Tower book I leave something I haven’t talked about. An almost fully censored newspaper page called ‘sleeping dancer’.
To finish, here is a football trapped in an eternal struggle:
James O’Raw & Cody Lee Barbour
DAY ONE
Bonus bakewell tarts helped with the jet lag. We soon landed in Belfast City.
Three buses full of brightly patterned seats later we find ourselves at the bridge at the bottom of Cushendall looking up towards the tower. We knew to go to see the gatekeeper who gave us a very friendly introduction. We had the keys to the tower.
We were greeted by a line of neat teapots as we opened the padlock into the little garden. Then we took a slow curious wonder to the very top of the tower admiring whilst questioning the mass of art that was all around us.
Realising that we were now extremely hungry we took our first figure of eight of the village leading us to Arthurs for a snack. Due to feeling so delirious from having had such few hours sleep it took us ages to decide whether to have soup and a sandwich or just soup. A cheese salad and a ham and cheese with tomato followed by a big mug of coffee brings us back to normal. There are towers dotted everywhere from on the menus in restaurants to the shop signs.
We stop off to buy chocolate to eat on the way to the beach. We meet Dominic in The Corner Shop which has a big plastic ice cream cone outside.
Dominic teaches us that Cadbury chocolate made in Dublin tastes so much better than it does from Birmingham. He said this is because it is milkier. He also chats to us about his son who is coming to visit from university in Manchester. It is cheaper for him to fly via Alacante than it is direct to Ireland. We said that we studied at Cadbury College as well as at Bournville art foundation. We told him that when the wind blew in the right direction it smelt just like chocolate in the air.
We walked to the beach standing on the pastel coloured rocks. The Cadbury chocolate that is made in Dublin is much nicer than it is from Birmingham especially as it comes in a different size bar wrapped in gold paper. It has 2x4 chunks instead of the 1x6 chunks that we are used to. Next was looking for some wood for the fire. We discovered the Irish money with its colourful spiral patterns.
Potato carving led us to a warming leek and spud soup that we ate crouched around the open fire on small milk stools with big round spoons as it was fucking freezing. Very delicious. Next was mastering the fine art of turning the gas down low but not so low that it goes out to be able to heat up a tin of rice pudding.
Too delusional to even manage a trip to the pub that we could see from the window we decided instead to get lost in the romance of the fire. We made a few collages then fell asleep.
DAY TWO
We wake up extremely warm as the storage heater had kicked in overnight spilling out lots of heat so we spend the next few hours in our new found tropics looking out the window. Failing to work out the water heater means we wash with a hot kettle over the sink. A little explore of the upstairs of the tower with some loud music before it is time for eggs.
Four poached Glenballyeamon eggs with Kerrymaid butter on wheaten bread dotted with salt. We ate with butter knifes as they had the best handles out of those in the cutlery box. Next was a cup of tea with The Rolling Stone whilst thinking of a plan for the day.
Library.
Zippy.
Scones.
Some tower related work.
We went to do some work in the study for a little while.
We went to the library to do a bit of research on the local area. The librarian was a very lovely continuous talker who helped us find some good information on the history of the tower.
We went to eat scones at Arthurs with a cup of coffee. The coffee is good there.
We went to the butchers to buy some meat for a Sunday stew. We were recommended the mince that we brought along with a bag of onions.
We had our first visitor. Aaron popped in for a bit who said that it is better to come here in the summer as well as that there is a town called Waterfoot not too far down the road under the bridge. He drew us a very useful map showing us where the off licence is as well as a good walk around the beach. We go to buy some wine. Then we decide to have breakfast for dinner before going to the pub for a few Guinnesses. We play a card game that we make up the rules for as we went along.
We added our heights to the measure on the wall by the door.
We brought salt and vinegar crisps from The Corner Shop.
DAY THREE
Hot water.
Bath.
Marmite on toast.
Rain.
We make more of the work that we are to leave here.
I saw a lady take a photograph of the tower.
I wonder if my head is going to be in it.
Enjoying sitting on the milk stool by the heater.
Fires are very satisfying.
Randomly the smell of garlic filled the air.
We spend a few hours sewing.
We spend a few hours doing some things on the computer.
We spend time listening to all sorts of music that there is never normally time to listen to.
We spend some time reading books.
Thick rain puts us off from a walk to the beach.
Horlicks on the tongue.
We walk to the shop to buy more eggs.
We also buy chocolate bars.
Jazz.
Potatoes sculpted into starchy gemstones.
Hot matches.
Cabbage.
Falling paintings.
Admiring the drawing of the fireplace on the toaster.
Roast potatoes instead of mash is such a good idea.
We get startled by Zippy breaking an entry into our dinner making.
Such a lovely guy.
He was very excited at the fact that we were not vegetarians.
He dashes off to take his friends to the airport.
We drink red wine.
We do sewing.
We explore how to get on the roof.
We look out the window at the rain on the top floor for ages.
We enjoy a toasty evening listening to the big rain outside.
DAY FOUR
It is pretty sunny when we wake up but by the time we have sewed a bit then had a bath it is raining.
But today we are going out in it. Perhaps to enjoy a lemonade by the sea.
It is very refreshing to spend time with no rush with no purpose other than spending time.
More eggs for breakfast. Tea in polka dot mustard coloured mugs. Some breakfast techno for inspiration. We are going to get so soaked in the rain.
We saw a man dressed in yellow who was piggy-backing massive bags of coal into the local shops.
We went to the hatch at the top of the tower.
Lifting up the heavy door whilst balancing on the ladder we lift ourselves out.
All that we can see is pretty green with different coloured roof tops.
O’Raw rings the bell.
The battlements surrounding our heads.
So we did it.
We got totally soaked.
We walked to the beach then up to the hills over a waterfall to a bridge. Then we wandered up past some houses on the loop back.
As we were so soaked we thought it was better to get wetter so we took a walk to the tunnel bridge down the road.
Gradient hurling nets.
Cows.
Volcano clouds.
Pretty blowy beaches.
We were soaked through.
We found the tunnel.
We took photographs.
We were soaked through.
Zippy rescued us.
He happened to be zooming past as we were at our furthest wettest point.
We both squashed in the front seat of his meaty van on a speedy dry drive back to the butchers. Amazing.
We fetched milk as well as more Cadbury mint crisp bars.
A little chat to Dominic then back home to peel our clothes off.
The most delicious mince ever.
Wine cabbage.
An evening of more sewing.
A visit from Zippy.
A fire.
DAY FIVE
Eggs.
Counting.
Writing.
Polishing.
A farewell from Zippy.
More sewing.
Waterfalls.
Bus bus bus xx
Kate Pennington - Wilson and Roma Piotrowska
When Roma and I came to Curfew Tower in October 2011 we were immediately struck by the vast number of postcodes pinned up around the tower. They were all addressed ‘Dear Tower’ and sent by a lady called Astrid. After a bit of digging we discovered Astrid had taken part in the residency at Curfew tower and had been sending these postcards over a three-year period since.
As we both found Astrid’s postcards a fascinating read, we set about reading the lot, viewing each postcard as a snippet of Astrid’s life and experiences, like diary entry’s. The challenging part being that we had to piece things together. We encountered them in a mixed up order, back to front and the wrong way around. It took a good few days to work our way through all the postcards but by that point we had developed an idea of who Astrid was in our minds. We also found references to Astrid around the tower and each scrap of new information was an exciting revelation.
We decided to create a portrait of Astrid as our contribution to Curfew Tower. For us she was a huge part of our experience within the tower. This portrait took the form of a letter, in it we attempt to piece her life together and thanked her for allowing us the privilege of getting to know her. We left the letter in the hope that she’d find it if returning to the tower.
Isobel Anderson | Curfew Tower | Sounds and Letters
I spent just over a week at Curfew Tower. I had wanted to stay for longer, but unfortunately had been very ill and was going back and forth for hospital appointments.
I shared the Tower with Rachel Haines who was similarly interested in sound combined with visual art. It was great to spend time with Rachel exploring the area and making recordings on the beech. She’s also a fantastic pianist! So I got to hear her playing at Joe’s pub on their piano with a nice big pint of Guinness.
The project I focussed on while I was there was Sounds and Letters. Sounds and Letters is what is best described as an audio scrap book. The piece consists of a box which holds five handwritten letters, a collection of photographs of Cushendall and the surrounding area and a CD with a recording of each letter by the author. On the lid of the box is a map of the Glens with the locations of the letters marked on the map. Each letter is to an unknown recipients and charts the time the author spent at the Tower. Each letter is written in a particular place and each recording of each letter is made in these places. Therefore, while listening to the recordings you not only hear the voice of the author describing the places in which they are in, but you hear the sounds of these places, frozen in time.
I wanted to make this piece because I had been reading about the Russian psychiatrist Lev Vygotsky’s thoery of language and thought. Vygotsky argued that as adults we internalise our thought processes which as children we speak aloud. The British psycholgist Charles Fernyhough theorises that this thought process is sounded out silently inside of us as our ‘inner voice’. And the research of scientist Luc Steel has highlighted that this is almost a universal human phenomenon, being experienced even by people who are deaf from birth.
Lev Vygotsky
Sounds and Letters vocalises the voice we hear while reading letters, that of their author. Often while reading a letter from someone we know, we hear their voice as if they were reading to us inside out head - our ‘inner voice’ sounding out the words as we read. however, if we were to read a letter from an unknown author to an unknown recipient what voice might we hear? Our own? That of a friend? in Sounds and Letters you hear the actual voice of the author, but surrounded by the sounds of the places they describe. How would we then imagine this author amongst the sounds of place? A place frozen in time, captured in a moment.
Below are images and audio from the project. The piece is now in the Tower for visitors to discover. (The audio is available by clicking on the links).
Sounds and Letters | Letter No.1 by Isobel Anderson
Letter No.5 by Isobel Anderson
I had a really interesting time at Curfew Tower and only regret that I didn’t get to spend more time there. As I’m based in Belfast though it’s somewhere I can easily return to and have another ice cream on the beech, pint in the pub and listen to the soft murmurings of the boy racers revving their engines outside the Tower on a Saturday night.
www.isobelanderson.com
