An art trail in the city

19 May 2016

Today’s adventure was the Roam art trail previously postponed because of the Fireworks Factory fire. In the end I decided to start off by walking over the Itchen Bridge rather than Northam, mostly for the sake of adding a few much needed miles. The first part of the walk seemed to be all about flowers, starting with a lovely display in a front garden on Peartree Avenue. Further on there were ragwort brightening the verge on Sea Road, the first I’ve seen this year, along with a single goat’s beard flower. The way it was going I’d have too many photos before I even reached the start of the trail.

Of course this didn’t stop me taking photos of the bike leaned against the barrier on Sea Road, the clover and buttercup verge, or the dandelion clocks. From the scant information I’d found about the arts trail I wasn’t sure I’d find any of it. The one photo I’d seen on Facebook was of a white bike in a tree. It piqued my interest and I knew exactly where the tree was, as for the other exhibits, their exact location and nature were a mystery. The trail map I found wasn’t much help.  Everything seemed to be written in artspeak, vague discriptions and phrases like ‘visual language created in an urban environment’ and ‘an experiment of texture, pattern and materials.’ If I found nothing at least I’d have some pretty pictures taken along the way.

The daisies lining the path as I approached the bridge were irresistible, as was the view of the city at the apex. More daisies greeted me on the other side, along with some discarded cans that made me tut. From what I could make out the trail began somewhere on Castle Way at somewhere called K6 Gallery. Exatly where that was, was a mystery but I headed that way with a sad glance at my old office building as I passed.

On Castle Way I came unstuck for a while, walking up and down looking at all the buildings trying for find this mysterious gallery. Anyone watching must have wondered what I was up to. By Castle Gate I stopped. This was beginning to feel like a wild goose chase. Then I looked up and there, on the side of the red phine boxes I spotted a sign, Roam K6 Gallery. Who knew the phone boxes were actually an art gallery? Well, not me obviously, although, thinking about it, I had a vague recollection of reading something…

Feeling a little silly I opened the first door. What I found was exhibit number one, called Nothing  Matter by Winchester based photographer Christina Evans. The confined space and the reflections cast on the Perspex covering them made it slightly difficult to really appreciate the photos if I’m honest. They were taken around the city, that much was clear and they were my kind of photos, odd snippets of interesting places and things. Even so, it wasn’t quite what I was expecting and I felt a little uneasy about the rest of the trail.

Still, there were leaflets with a map so I took one. The next exhibit was in Mattricks Coffe House, so at least it should be easy enough to find and there would be coffee as a bonus. With a quick progress snap of the WestQuay II works, off I trotted, wondering what Jethro German’s Poor Man’s Neon would be like. The coffee was good. The jury is still out on the art. There was an empty table right in front of it and I sat in contemplation while I drank. Maybe it was meant to light up? Maybe the fact that it didn’t was the point? Maybe I’m just not clever enough to appreciate it?

The next exhibits, Love me Love my Tech by Nicola Anderson and Intervention by Kirsti Minchin, were in Palmerston Park. The leaflet said the first were posters  on bins and the park notice board and the second was in the trees. How hard could they be to find? As it turned out, harder than I expected. There was a lot of walking round and round the park peering at bins and staring into trees. While I was not finding any exhibits I took some pictures of the beautiful rhododendrons.

While I was still not finding any exhibits and feeling decidedly stupid to be walking up and down the park staring at bins and trees, I took some more photos of the flower beds bursting with fresh colour. This was no hardship at all but the woman sitting on the bench may have wondered why I’d gone past her three times and had such a fascination with bins. Surprisingly no one came to cart me off to the loony bin.

 

At the point I was about to give up and cross the road to East Park where I knew exactly what I was looking for and where to find if, I spotted something on the side of one of the bins at the road side. It was a poster of someone in a tyvek suit with a ball for a head sitting on the circular wall at the centre of the park taking a photo with a selfie stick. It was high vis yellow. There ws another one on the bin on the opposite side of the path.

Then I spotted a notice board I’d missed, near the bandstand so I thought I’d better check it out in case there were more posters. There was one, but it was slightly faded where water had got behind the Perspex. There was a bike and what looked like it might have been an iPod, all in the same bright yellow and all set in the park. The posters were witty and I liked them but I’d hoped there’d be more. Maybe there were and I somehow missed them.

My evetual success with the posters spurred me to one last look at the trees just in case I’d somehow missed something else. After yet another complete circuit of the park staring at every single tree I gave up. If there was 3D art in them I couldn’t see it. With one last, fruitless, look at the trees along Above Bar I headed back to the pedestrian crossing. That was when I spotted something amongst the rhododendrons…

If I’d known I was supposed to be looking in the shrubbery I might have found it sooner. Still, it was worth all the wandering back and forth and looking like a mad woman. At least I think it was. All sorts of wooden shapes and strings of coloured bubbles were strung amongst the contorted branches. They seemed playful, like discarded toys, and they made me smile.

 

Still smiling I crossed the road to East Park. This was the bit I’d been looking forward to, the white bike in the dead tree. Something about it appealed to me and I hurried along the avenue of trees towards it. The leaflet I’d picked up told me there were other ceramic fragments to be found in the trees too so I kept my eyes peeled as I marched along.

Close to the wisteria covered pergola I found some. They were shards like broken tiles but, on closer inspection, they had subtle coloured glazes and textures. They were the work of Lalitha Bandaru, or so the leaflet told me. There may have been more but the wisteria, with its heavenly scent pulled me towards it.

It seemed to me the pergola was worth all the walking I’d done and more. Droops of wisteria flowers against the blue sky seemed almost too perfect to be true. If only I could show you the smell that attracted the buzzing bees as easily. Inhaling deeply I strolled slowly through the arch. On the other side I knew I’d find my dead tree and the white bike.

It wasn’t there! The tree was of course, ragged fingers of branches pinting skywards. There was no white bike though. I walked right around it just to be sure and I thought I could see the place it had been attached. Maybe someone stole it?

Disappointment didn’t even cover it. The trail wasn’t over but, right then, I felt like going home.

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