Hinterland : West Penwith Still a Mining Community

 

The following photographs depict something of its characteristics,  focussing mostly on its historical mining perspective,  but also exploring other factors which encourage me to return to the region.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photographs from 17th June 2024.  As I walked from Kenidjack along the cliffs to Botallack,  where my car was parked,  the sunset was remarkable.  It lent a romantic and fantastical character to the cliff landscape and the ruined engine houses,  guaranteed to detract from an objective depiction.

 

 

 

 

Some photographs from 16th June 2024,  mostly of the closed Geevor Tin Mine,  but also of the cliffs overlooking Porthnanven and Carn Gloose ( Ballowal Barrow ).  One image is monochrome.

 

The first gallery is taken with a Nikon D810 camera and the second gallery with a Fuji GFX50r camera. 

 

 

Nikon D810

 

 

 

 

Fuji GFX 50r

 

 

 

 

 

 

Below are a collection of photographs taken on 18th June at Geevor and its ruined buildings overlooking the Atlantic ocean.  I photographed into the night which led to extended exposure times and unusual colours.  The images are portrayed in both colour and monochrome but contain the same images;  the two sets evoke different cognitive and emotional responses.

 

 

 

 

 

 

These photographs,  taken in January 2024,  depict the landscape of the small fishing cove of Porthgwarra and the buildings and associated topography of several farms I passed on my return to the B3315 at the small hamlet of Polgigga.  It was a very misty day,   which partially cleared at sea level at Porthgwarra,  but as I climbed back inland the mists returned and the very traditional farm buildings of Roskestal quickly became enveloped in  mist.  Although not considered a mining locality,  Porthgwarra is situated very closely to the traditional mining landscape of West Penwith,  and its use of granite for buildings and the mists and agriculture  I encountered are all very representative of the region.

 

 

 

 

These photographs depict a post-Christmas St Just,  though the mist and the cloud remain impenetrable over the community.

 

Whilst in St Just I listened to a radio show presented by the BBC film critic Mark Kermode where he and a fellow presenter reviewed movies which had referenced dream sequences as a major part of its narrative and discussed directors who had purposefully used dreams to impart symbolism and ambiguity.  Alfred Hitchcock,  Luis Bunuel,  David Lynch,  Ingmar Bergman and Pedro Almodóvar are some of these directors,  several of whom integrated the visual  landscape of Salador Dali.  Reality becomes displaced,  distortion prevails and often surrealism,  Freudian and Jungian semiotics predominate.

 

The mist over St Just may contribute to a similar experience within that landscape.  Mist reduces contrast and dilutes colour;  it compresses experience rather than expands it,  and distorts and alters reality.  Mist contributes to a brooding,  obsessional experience,  of a landscape constrained both by the physical limitations imposed by weather and by our own imagination.

 

These photographs were taken either inside or in close proximity to the churchyard of St Just Parish Church.