Just spotted your question Mini - I am attempting to interview local people (reality tv culture has made this so much more difficult these days where everyone instantly wonders what is in it for them) about their experiences/memories of living in the area with the idea of combining these voices into an art work which reflects on the shadows of things lost or fading into the past. The interest in Ewer St in particular has to do with the lack of commercial interest (so far) and subsequent 'graceful' ageing of the bridge surrounds. Ok, it's a bit of a mess but at least it is an honest mess which takes account of time and it's passing in respect of local presence and, I like to think, refusal to be 'tarted up'. It will change of course and I have seen plans to clean it, but as much of what I have photographed in the area is now disappearing/gone, I'd like to celebrate the memory of the street as it existed before the event of the railway, with its row of timber-framed houses and in some small way evoke the ghost echoes of familial voices; traces of history which seek to illuminate aspects of where we are now.
Many people and objects have come and gone beneath its canopy; polish workers literally camping in the fenced section before it was repaired as well as those less well prepared, George, who made the area his home for thirty plus years with his cardboard build/stash just around the corner whom hopefully has found safer climes to live out his days, the pigeons of course passing their days eroding it, billing and cooing all the while, the cat that often times can be seen crouched and shuffling along its girders watching them and often useful bits of rubbish (I have a very fine water cooler in my bedroom) to be discovered there. I especially like the letterbox (?) sized hole in the wall, with the hint of windows to its right for shear mystery and lets not forget the builders who discovered bodily remains here whilst laying pipework, one of whom retired shaken to a local pub and upon relating his tale to the barman was so spooked chose there and then to return home to Ireland, being given cash from the till, at least so one of my interviewees says. It was this tale which started me on this journey, in an attempt to discover its veracity.
I'm most puzzled that the automated Amazon adverts are offering video of Pet Semetary (half understandable) and a Royal Opera production of Peter Grimes (???) but aren't yet picking up the recent biography of Astley Cooper: