London: The Metamorphosis
by Anna Keen, Edward Lucie-Smith (introduction)
- Hardcover: 144 pages
- Publisher: Unicorn Publishing Group; 1 edition (1st of March 2020)
- Language: English
- ISBN-10: 1912690594
- ISBN-13: 978-1912690596
- Product Dimensions: 9 x 10.8 inches
AN HISTORIC & TECHNICAL VISION
London Clay is malleable and shifty. Hard as dry bones, soft as liquid sludge. The Greater London Wound is driven to distraction by Architectural Shrapnel. The Shard, the Axe, the Scalpel and the Razor all gash and slash and cut. Feverish activity throbs through the veins and arterial routes of the Metropolis. Hundreds of glass and steel splinters fester in the flesh of this land.
The enflamed soft-tissues of England stretch out tenderly as far as Angels kenn, exhaling sighs which puncture the seething immensity of Thames Gateway.
Tall constructions were impossible upon this unstable ground before their foundations were floated upon concrete rafts;
buildings then behave like boats which obey the Archimedes’ principal. They are buoyed up by a force equal to the weight of displaced earth. Blake’s ‘Dark, Satanic Mills’ of Southwark were built thus.
As they burnt to the ground in 1791, devils danced in the flames.
‘London long ago’ seems as unreal and improbable as ‘London to come’. Memory alone fails us. We walk, oblivious, into a New Stark Reality, which endlessly replaces the one we once knew.
As an Artist I transform my retinal input into images, extracting data from the real world. Using geometry, physics, chemistry, biology, geology, history and anything else which will help me perform
a disentangling of what is relevant in this symbolic information;
I aim to elicit within myself the fleeting emotions I have when seeing what I aim to depict. Representational artworks are like oracular fires, testifying as to how a place looked and felt, long after its edifices
have crumbled, its rivers been lost and its ideologies discounted
as vapid mists lingering over the eviscerated and obliterated landscape.
London’s Past, Present and Future are woven together,
full of slubs, gouts, snarls and misdraws.
I effortlessly slip between the warp and weft of this strange fabric.