All things woolly

Bradford's Industrial Museum holds a festival each year in early February to celebrate St Blaise, the patron saint of the wool trade. (St Blaise was an Armenian Bishop whose head was chopped off by the Romans around 316AD, after he was tortured with iron combs.) The Guild of Spinners, Weavers and Dyers give demonstrations and workshops at the festival and there are stalls where you can buy yarn and knitted goods. It's what I'd call 'hard-core', full of folks who card, spin and dye their own wool. The skeins of wool on sale are beautiful, but not for the likes of me (yet). My beginner knitting skills don't warrant such lovely yarn; I'm better off practising with cheaper stuff! It is, however, fascinating to watch the experienced craftspeople at work. 

Sunday morning

It was something of a relief to open the curtains on Sunday morning and discover small gaps in the cloud and a little patch of blue sky. A bit later on, the sun came out, rather weak but a much brighter morning than we've had for ages. It didn't last; it was throwing it down again by about 3pm but at least I managed a walk down to the park. It doesn't look busy from my pictures but in fact there were a lot of people about, also making the most of the dry interlude. 

There are signs of spring... a few snowdrops among the leaf litter, catkins on some of the trees. The yellow crocuses that I showed a couple of weeks ago, forcing their way up through a sea of mud, are now in full flower though still bogged down in mud rather than the grassy slope this used to be. 

I did a slight detour along the canal towpath between the mill buildings, to see if the big puddle was still there. I'd seen an amazing photo of the mill, reflected not in the canal as usually shown but in a massive puddle on the towpath. See HERE. There were traces of standing water but nothing big enough for a good reflection. You can just spot the top of the chimney! 

Original orange

So. Much. Rain! I have been making myself go out for very soggy walks, but it doesn't lead to any inspiration for photography. No photos to play with equals no fun for me, so I resorted to looking for subject matter inside. I found myself drawn to the colour orange. (I can't imagine why! 😂 😂 Heck, someone's taking up too much space in my head rent-free these days!) Despite its current connotations, it's quite a cheery colour, good for brightening up these dark winter days. I look forward very much to a time when it's no longer associated with all that is at the same time both evil and comedic. 

Angelic voices

I'm not sure I've ever previously noticed all the angels that grace the ceiling in Bradford's Cathedral. The subtle lighting at the 'After Dark' event really brought them out. I counted twenty of them, each one different. Many were holding musical instruments. They look to be part of the original 15th century oak ceiling so they will be over 500 years old. Isn't that amazing? They have expressive little faces and I was glad my longest lens was able to pick them out sufficiently well to be able to appreciate them. 

Mood lighting

Some of the lighting in Bradford cathedral for the 'After Dark' event was spectacular. St Aidan's Chapel, added in 1950, commemorates Bishop Aidan of Lindisfarne, who evangelised the north of England in the 7th century. It holds some beautiful textile hangings that reference the islands of Iona and Lindisfarne, and a Yorkshire dale. The chapel was illuminated with a lamp that bathed the walls with swirling aqua and green, almost like being underwater.  It was stunning and very peaceful. 

The Icon of the Holy Spirit, in another chapel, was lit by a similar swirly lamp, this time in red and orange, referring to the fire of the Holy Spirit. Created by John Coleman in 2008, the Pentecost icon depicts the apostles with various symbols: a dove, a sunburst and a landscape which is the Cow and Calf Rocks in Ilkley.

The play of light and shadow around the cathedral was intriguing. Some of the lighting picked out things you don't especially notice in daylight, like this skull on a memorial. Dating to the 1700s, it's a memento mori, a reminder of the inevitability of death.  

After dark

Bradford Cathedral offered an 'After Dark' session, with the interior illuminated by discreet floodlights and lots of candles. It looked beautiful and was a good chance to experience the building 'in a different light', literally. Photographically it was something of a challenge but noise elimination software these days is very good at minimising that grain you get in dim lighting conditions.

As cathedrals go it's an intimate space, having once been a parish church, but it's lovely because of that. The lighting really enhanced certain features like the wonderful fifteenth century oak ceiling in the nave. The Tudor (1536), wood font cover, elaborately carved, was shown off beautifully by red spotlighting. 

 

Bradford by night

I don't often go into Bradford at night so it was interesting to see how the recent pedestrianisation has improved the environment, making safe walkways and all attractively lit. Last year's City of Culture award provided the impetus for many improvements. I don't know if the clock tower on City Hall is always so colourful but it gave a nice effect in the distance. 

It's perhaps a pity that the Wool Exchange, a magnificent Victorian building, is not better illuminated. You can see its shadowy presence in the centre of the photo below.

On the route down to Forster Square rail station, the dark arches under the viaduct have been fenced off. This was somewhat controversial, as they used to be home to quite a gathering of rough sleepers. People complained that they were being 'sanitised' because of the City of Culture initiative. I guess they were and I'm not sure whether alternative provision was made. There seem now to be a lot of folk bedded down in shop doorways, all over the place. Now the arches are lit at night and looked quite intriguing... better than they look during the day! 

Breathe

There's a new mural in Bradford, on the side of The Broadway shopping centre. Called 'Breathe, breathe, breathe', it gets its inspiration from lyrics by Zayn Malik, Bradford singer-songwriter and former member of the band One Direction. It was painted by street artist Ricky Also, as part of BD:Walls for the City of Culture 2025. Nice colours, bold typography, a good position right in the city centre and a reminder, perhaps, to pause in the busy rush of city life.

You:Matter

I made use of a drizzly, cold day by calling into the Science and Media Museum in Bradford, to catch the 'immersive art experience' called You:Matter, before it closes in March. It was actually most interesting and enjoyable.

'This digital interactive experience blends art, science and creative technologies to make the invisible visible. Explore the web of relationships that bond us to the universe—from the stars in the sky to every living cell, through the air we breathe, the water we drink and the food we eat. It is a playful exploration of the invisible rhythms that underpin your life on Earth, offering a fresh perspective on the world you thought you knew.'

It started with the Big Bang: 'As a human being, you are part of a vast wave of energy that began with the explosion that created our universe.'

It explored the elements (about 20) that we are made from: 

It noted that even our breathing is part of an intricate web of existence. We inhale oxygen breathed out by plants and give back carbon dioxide to them. This was illustrated by a tree. When you breathed into a tube, lots of little blue lights swirled towards the tree. Rather lovely. 

There was a satellite data image showing the daily carbon flow around the world. Escaping carbon, from creatures like ourselves, burning fossil fuels, erupting volcanoes etc, is what plants use to grow, but in a very fragile balance. Carbon needs to be traded evenly.  

It talked about how we are mostly made of water, part of the cycle of water that falls to earth and makes streams and glaciers, the sea, water vapour, rain: solid to liquid to gas and back again. It explained how every meal we eat is powered by sunlight that is spun into glucose (sugar) by plants. We are solar energy, a web of life woven out of light.  

It described the Tree of Life, every living thing on earth descended from one common ancestor - illustrated by a colourful display of plants and creatures forming and then disintegrating into dust, before re-forming as something else. 

I found it very engaging, wonder-full. I wish science had been like that when I was at school. I wish we could bear it in mind in this world of deep divisions. We are all the same stuff! 

Whither the weather?

So far here in West Yorkshire we seem to have avoided the worst of the winter weather that other parts of the UK have suffered: snow, particularly in Scotland; wind and flooding in the South-West. It has certainly been damp and miserable but nothing terrible. It sometimes makes for interesting photos. I stopped at the top of High Bank Lane (aptly named!) to enjoy the storm clouds along the valley, looking towards Baildon Moor.  

Another morning, I drew back the curtains to discover thick fog outside. I had an appointment for a cut and blow-dry at a hair salon on Gordon Terrace. By the time I went out, the sun was breaking through and burning off the mist. I enjoyed how the light was catching the trees that grow on the waste ground (what was once a small quarry, I think) on the walk down. Despite my neatly coiffed (for once!) head, I decided on a walk before I returned home but, during the hour of my appointment, the fog had totally disappeared. It made for an enjoyable walk in the sunshine, which was actually remarkably warm for the time of year.  

Yorkshire humour (repost)

I was obviously suffering from a lack of current photos to post on my blog even as far back as 2010.... This was my offering for 1st February that year, a bit of Yorkshire humour, so I thought it worth repeating:

'I guess even the most enthusiastic bloggers must sometimes have to raid the archives for inspiration and I'm no exception.  (We could call it 'blogger's block'!)  I came across this photo that I took a few months ago, of an old cemetery near Heptonstall, up on the hills above Hebden Bridge. My dad would have called it the dead centre of Yorkshire - and there isn't much more to say about it. (Although it is near the comically-named hamlet of Slack Bottom, whose name I have always enjoyed!)  And it does give me an excuse to tell you one of my favourite Yorkshire dialect jokes:

An elderly Yorkshireman was distraught when his devoted - and devout - wife died. His only comfort was knowing she had gone to be with the Lord. He gave much thought to what to put on her memorial stone and eventually decided Lord, she was Thine would be appropriate. When he went to view the stone, however, he was dismayed to find it had been inscribed Lord, she was thin. He immediately contacted the stonemason, telling him: "You've missed off the 'E' ". The mason replied that he was sorry but it was no problem and he would correct it. When the widower went again to see the stone, he found it now said: Ee Lord, she was thin.'

Keeping heritage alive

I used to walk this way, through Salts Mill's yard, almost every day when I was at work. It was either a good lunchtime walk to stretch my legs or, occasionally, a different route home. I rarely need to use this path any more, though I always enjoy seeing the big mill chimney at close quarters. 

Plaques on the wall remind us that alpacas were the source of the wool that made Sir Titus Salt's fortune. He was one of the first to use it at a large scale, combining it with sheep's wool to make a fine and lustrous cloth. 

The sliding doors on the warehouses along this route are usually closed, so I was delighted to find them open and to get a glimpse inside... huge bales of raw wool! 

This is the premises of H Dawson, 'Wool Experts since 1888'. I've looked at their website HERE and find that they source, grade and clean wool for supply to other businesses, who use it in a variety of ways in soft furnishings, mattresses, wadding, pillows, carpets, yarns and knitwear. It seems eminently fitting that there is still a wool heritage craft located in this great temple of the wool industry. Long may it continue. 

Classic view

I guess I'm not alone in finding this time of year quite difficult. Everywhere looks so drab, and it's so cold and damp. I have to use willpower to make myself go out and I'm certainly not inspired photographically when there is little 'good' light. This classic view of Salts Mill's vast south frontage, seen from the Victoria Road allotments, is one I can easily take for granted. Familiarity means we forget how mind-blowing the huge mill really is. The West and East Mills, the parts you can see here, are just a fraction of it. Some of these huge rooms once held the spinning machines, and are now art galleries and shops.   

Land of hope and glory

Saltaire is still, for lots of reasons, a desirable place to live. It's a thriving and creative community, and the houses, built in the mid-1800s as homes for the mill workers at Salts Mill, remain comfortable. Many are quite small but they are sought after by young people starting out on the housing ladder and by a few older people choosing to downsize. 

Wandering through the streets, I often wonder what it must have felt like to those early residents, moving from the disease-ridden slums of the city out to what was then truly a 'greenfield site'. The village was well planned and relatively spacious; its homes comfortable, with plenty of light and their own private backyards. 

From the bottom of the streets, you still see the green of Hope Hill rising up, across the other side of the river. I wonder if it felt like 'a land of hope and glory' to those hard-working folk who first lived here?  

Fountains Abbey

Since I've run out of current photos until I can go somewhere interesting, and since we've recently had a look at Bolton Priory, I thought I'd repost a collection of my images of Fountains Abbey. Up near Ripon, it's probably one of the UK's most stunning ruined abbeys, now a World Heritage Site. It was a Cistercian monastery, founded in 1132, and became one of the wealthiest in England due to its extensive landholdings. That didn't stop Henry VIII dismantling it in the 1500s, and then it was sold and became part of a landowner's estate, eventually becoming a 'romantic ruin' in a vast garden site. It's now in the care of the National Trust. 

I'll let the photos speak for themselves. It's apparent that I often visit in winter! That avoids some of the crowds that converge in summer, though it's always busy. I just might drive over there again soon, though not until the weather has improved a bit.  For more about it's history, see HERE.