ACCUMULATAE

 

I found this old brooch whilst sorting through a box of "accumulatae" (not sure if that is a word, but if not, it should be). I assume that it has come from within the family, and therefore the rather charming lady in the large hat is a relative of mine. Precisely who she is, I have no idea, but I have pleasure in presenting her to the world. On the reverse of the brooch is another portrait. I will return to that, later.

BALANCE BY POST

 

Our Sepia Saturday theme image this week featured a postman delivering parcels in the snow, and my interpretation of the theme retains the snow but features a different kind of post. As agile as that interpretation of the theme may be, it has nothing on the agility of the chap in this 1924 photograph from my collection, who would appear to have the balance of a yoga master.

THAT'S ART

....... You can mess around with Photoshop filters and AI edits until you are blue in the face (or green, or orange or polka dot striped) but you will never equal the originality and brilliance of a real artist. To illustrate my point I give you a picture of Halifax painted by my brother when he was living over here in the 1990s. Now, that's art!

ART OR A PINT?

Is art in danger of being undermined by Artificial Intelligence? Why slave over a canvas for endless hours attempting to achieve a dramatic interpretation of a pub at the bottom of an old cobbled street in Halifax when you can press a button, produce a picture, and then go and enjoy a pint in peace? Well ...... (to be continued)

A REAL CANAL?

I took this photograph of the canal in Huddersfield thirteen or fourteen years ago. I'm sure it didn't actually look like this; I'm sure there were more half-tones flying about. It's an impression, however, and it has some nice shapes and a few pleasing patterns. It's not real - but what is?

IT'S A GAS

I don't normally go in for this clickbait thing or having adverts associated with my various online activities, but times are hard and we all have to make a living. Therefore, I would like to draw your attention to the exhibition and series of lectures and demonstrations that have been organised by the Halifax Corporation Gas Committee at the Drill Hall next week. Don't be late!

A HUNGRY HILL

I took this picture of Hunger Hill in Halifax forty years ago. There are a few more trees about these days and some of the buildings have changed, but the snow is still here. I asked AI to explain the origin of the name, and it came up with a somewhat silly theory that the road was so steep, early travellers were reduced to hunger by climbing it! AI has obviously never visited Halifax if it thinks it's a steep hill. Now, climbing Beacon Hill, that might make you hungry.

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Thank You, Lucy

 

Bright sun and black ice, monochrome trees and wood-blocked paths: our dog took us for a walk down Shepherds Thorn Lane the other day. Thank you, Lucy.

Body Building

Our Sepia Saturday theme this week is "Work In Days Gone By". Most of my family worked in the mills and factories of Yorkshire, but my Great Uncle Albert branched out and became a partner in a firm of motor body builders in Manchester. He left a photographic record of many of his creations, this being one of them. I like to think of it as a piece of mechanical sculpture.

Free School

This is a photo of mine from sixty years ago of a rural school in Ireland. I'm not sure exactly why I took the photo; maybe I just thought it was a colourful scene, or maybe I thought that it captured a changing world. I looked the school up the other day; it is long gone. One of the photo agencies was selling a photograph of the school when it was closed and derelict. You can have mine of when it was open and colourful for nothing.

Dark Satanic Exclamation Marks

On the second part of our walk around Halifax in the 1930s, note the snow around Halifax Parish Church (nothing changes, does it?), and the black spire of the town hall punctuating the smoke-stacked atmosphere. And note the mills, as dark and satanic as any Blake poem, punctuating the life of the town, their chimneys creating an endless pattern of exclamation marks.