Sunday, May 23, 2004
23 May 2004
Cirencester Lido
For some time I’ve been looking forward to visiting Cirencester lido, the place did not disappoint. Cutting down an alley way opposite Coxwell Street we walked along a path beside a sparkling canalized river . The pool is reached by crossing a foot-bridge and walking into the walled pool precinct, where a volunteer (the pool has been run by a voluntary group ever since the council tried to close it down in 1972) takes our money.
The pool was built in 1869 and is fed from a well (cock’s well?) but is (mercifully) heated, a sign gives the day’s temperature (82 degrees). There’s nothing modern about the place, one can see why the council having built a brand new leisure center thought it superannuated- but they were wrong. The 70’s pool , with its concrete exterior masquerading as cotswold stone now looks old-fashioned, the lido with its low rise jauntily painted breeze-block changing rooms and café does not. There is apparently no physical sign of the pool’s Victorian origin, the low impact pool buildings have undoubtedly morphed from one form of shed to another form of shed through the centuries. Tiles have been replaced, water has flowed through, the only unchanging ‘structure’ is the negative space of the ‘water-pit’ itself- and that of course is what a pool is, a hole which water can fill. The essence of architecture is negative space, a hole in the ground is about as functionally negative as a space can be. The pool is set inside another example of the best kind of negative space, a public park. Cirencester is graced with two thousand acres of public park, what blend of common law anomalies,religion and patronage created this particular park I don’t know, but like the pool it is the open space and it is free usage by generations of people that define it, not structures, plantings or bye-laws.
The water by the way is wonderful, clear and almost unchlorinated and the mix of families and groups of teenagers is as relaxed and contented an assembly of people as you could find. The May sunshine shines whilst we swim and we notice some imposing castellated buildings to the rear of the pool enclosure. My daughter in trying to get a better look at them climbs up to what appears to be an ‘arrow slit’ in the lido wall, here is the only vestige of Victorian building, the rear wall (not protected by a ‘moat’ as is the front wall) has castle style slit windows, presumably so that the modest bathers can see out without being themselves seen by prying eyes. On leaving I promise the volunteer on the gate (and myself) that I will return.
Cirencester Lido
For some time I’ve been looking forward to visiting Cirencester lido, the place did not disappoint. Cutting down an alley way opposite Coxwell Street we walked along a path beside a sparkling canalized river . The pool is reached by crossing a foot-bridge and walking into the walled pool precinct, where a volunteer (the pool has been run by a voluntary group ever since the council tried to close it down in 1972) takes our money.
The pool was built in 1869 and is fed from a well (cock’s well?) but is (mercifully) heated, a sign gives the day’s temperature (82 degrees). There’s nothing modern about the place, one can see why the council having built a brand new leisure center thought it superannuated- but they were wrong. The 70’s pool , with its concrete exterior masquerading as cotswold stone now looks old-fashioned, the lido with its low rise jauntily painted breeze-block changing rooms and café does not. There is apparently no physical sign of the pool’s Victorian origin, the low impact pool buildings have undoubtedly morphed from one form of shed to another form of shed through the centuries. Tiles have been replaced, water has flowed through, the only unchanging ‘structure’ is the negative space of the ‘water-pit’ itself- and that of course is what a pool is, a hole which water can fill. The essence of architecture is negative space, a hole in the ground is about as functionally negative as a space can be. The pool is set inside another example of the best kind of negative space, a public park. Cirencester is graced with two thousand acres of public park, what blend of common law anomalies,religion and patronage created this particular park I don’t know, but like the pool it is the open space and it is free usage by generations of people that define it, not structures, plantings or bye-laws.
The water by the way is wonderful, clear and almost unchlorinated and the mix of families and groups of teenagers is as relaxed and contented an assembly of people as you could find. The May sunshine shines whilst we swim and we notice some imposing castellated buildings to the rear of the pool enclosure. My daughter in trying to get a better look at them climbs up to what appears to be an ‘arrow slit’ in the lido wall, here is the only vestige of Victorian building, the rear wall (not protected by a ‘moat’ as is the front wall) has castle style slit windows, presumably so that the modest bathers can see out without being themselves seen by prying eyes. On leaving I promise the volunteer on the gate (and myself) that I will return.
Friday, May 14, 2004
The Swimmer and the Pool
First came water, liquid anomaly of a solar system otherwise hostile to life. In the warm primeval seas creatures evolved and teemed, to escape the predation of the teeming sea a few species flopped on to the barren land or crawled through the swampy interzone between primitive plants and a not yet salty sea and land. Later creatures made themselves watertight and scuttled across the arid interiors, even the colonizers were mobile bags of water and some like the dog-like ancestors of whales and dolphins retraced their steps, shed their limbs and slipped back into the welcoming embrace of the sea.
The mammals, moistest of all animals, bags of water hanging from endoskeletons eventually became hominids. The hominids scattered a suitcase full of their bones across dry African savannah, where they were preserved as a record of evolution. It was along coastlines and rivers however that they spread across the planet. Strand lurkers crossed from continent to continent, waders penetrated deep inland along the great rivers of Africa and Eurasia. Here perhaps hominids became proto human ‘naked apes’, bipedal in order to wade and developing the webbed hands and swim friendly lie of body hair which distinguishes the human body from all other apes.
Later still Homo Sapiens, with an omnivorous diet of shellfish and seaweed, survived the ice ages where carnivorous Neanderthals died out. Homo Sapiens Island hopped and occupied every continent in the process before taking the sea in the first space craft of the human mind- the little boats which were for thousands of years the internet of the world-wide human community.
A blink of evolutionary time after the aquatic ape, Homo Sapiens built their first cities along the great rivers, The Nile,The Indus and Tigris & Euphrates. These were Hydraulic cultures Agriculture and urban civilisation was based on the socially organized control of water. It was in these early hydraulic cultures that artificial water courses and pools began to appear, a reminder not so much of humanities watery past but of the hydraulic modernity of organized human culture.
Greece and Rome provide the viaduct that brings the ancient world into our own, we forget at our peril that water is the basis of urban civilization. The culverted rivers of the modern metropolis hide the fact that the lack of clean water and drainage would render urban life impossible in half a day. Our greatest cities ironically are also under threat from inundation from the rising level of the open seas that they were built to command.
First came water, liquid anomaly of a solar system otherwise hostile to life. In the warm primeval seas creatures evolved and teemed, to escape the predation of the teeming sea a few species flopped on to the barren land or crawled through the swampy interzone between primitive plants and a not yet salty sea and land. Later creatures made themselves watertight and scuttled across the arid interiors, even the colonizers were mobile bags of water and some like the dog-like ancestors of whales and dolphins retraced their steps, shed their limbs and slipped back into the welcoming embrace of the sea.
The mammals, moistest of all animals, bags of water hanging from endoskeletons eventually became hominids. The hominids scattered a suitcase full of their bones across dry African savannah, where they were preserved as a record of evolution. It was along coastlines and rivers however that they spread across the planet. Strand lurkers crossed from continent to continent, waders penetrated deep inland along the great rivers of Africa and Eurasia. Here perhaps hominids became proto human ‘naked apes’, bipedal in order to wade and developing the webbed hands and swim friendly lie of body hair which distinguishes the human body from all other apes.
Later still Homo Sapiens, with an omnivorous diet of shellfish and seaweed, survived the ice ages where carnivorous Neanderthals died out. Homo Sapiens Island hopped and occupied every continent in the process before taking the sea in the first space craft of the human mind- the little boats which were for thousands of years the internet of the world-wide human community.
A blink of evolutionary time after the aquatic ape, Homo Sapiens built their first cities along the great rivers, The Nile,The Indus and Tigris & Euphrates. These were Hydraulic cultures Agriculture and urban civilisation was based on the socially organized control of water. It was in these early hydraulic cultures that artificial water courses and pools began to appear, a reminder not so much of humanities watery past but of the hydraulic modernity of organized human culture.
Greece and Rome provide the viaduct that brings the ancient world into our own, we forget at our peril that water is the basis of urban civilization. The culverted rivers of the modern metropolis hide the fact that the lack of clean water and drainage would render urban life impossible in half a day. Our greatest cities ironically are also under threat from inundation from the rising level of the open seas that they were built to command.
The Swimmer and the Pool
First came water, liquid anomaly of a solar system otherwise hostile to life. In the warm primeval seas creatures evolved and teemed, to escape the predation of the teeming sea a few species flopped on to the barren land or crawled through the swampy interzone between primitive plants and a not yet salty sea and land. Later creatures made themselves watertight and scuttled across the arid interiors, even the colonizers were mobile bags of water and some like the dog-like ancestors of whales and dolphins retraced their steps, shed their limbs and slipped back into the welcoming embrace of the sea.
The mammals, moistest of all animals, bags of water hanging from endoskeletons eventually became hominids. The hominids scattered a suitcase full of their bones across dry African savannah, where they were preserved as a record of evolution. It was along coastlines and rivers however that they spread across the planet. Strand lurkers crossed from continent to continent, waders penetrated deep inland along the great rivers of Africa and Eurasia. Here perhaps hominids became proto human ‘naked apes’, bipedal in order to wade and developing the webbed hands and swim friendly lie of body hair which distinguishes the human body from all other apes.
Later still Homo Sapiens, with an omnivorous diet of shellfish and seaweed, survived the ice ages where carnivorous Neanderthals died out. Homo Sapiens Island hopped and occupied every continent in the process before taking the sea in the first space craft of the human mind- the little boats which were for thousands of years the internet of the world-wide human community.
A blink of evolutionary time after the aquatic ape, Homo Sapiens built their first cities along the great rivers, The Nile,The Indus and Tigris & Euphrates. These were Hydraulic cultures Agriculture and urban civilisation was based on the socially organized control of water. It was in these early hydraulic cultures that artificial water courses and pools began to appear, a reminder not so much of humanities watery past but of the hydraulic modernity of organized human culture.
Greece and Rome provide the viaduct that brings the ancient world into our own, we forget at our peril that water is the basis of urban civilization. The culverted rivers of the modern metropolis hide the fact that the lack of clean water and drainage would render urban life impossible in half a day. Our greatest cities ironically are also under threat from inundation from the rising level of the open seas that they were built to command.
First came water, liquid anomaly of a solar system otherwise hostile to life. In the warm primeval seas creatures evolved and teemed, to escape the predation of the teeming sea a few species flopped on to the barren land or crawled through the swampy interzone between primitive plants and a not yet salty sea and land. Later creatures made themselves watertight and scuttled across the arid interiors, even the colonizers were mobile bags of water and some like the dog-like ancestors of whales and dolphins retraced their steps, shed their limbs and slipped back into the welcoming embrace of the sea.
The mammals, moistest of all animals, bags of water hanging from endoskeletons eventually became hominids. The hominids scattered a suitcase full of their bones across dry African savannah, where they were preserved as a record of evolution. It was along coastlines and rivers however that they spread across the planet. Strand lurkers crossed from continent to continent, waders penetrated deep inland along the great rivers of Africa and Eurasia. Here perhaps hominids became proto human ‘naked apes’, bipedal in order to wade and developing the webbed hands and swim friendly lie of body hair which distinguishes the human body from all other apes.
Later still Homo Sapiens, with an omnivorous diet of shellfish and seaweed, survived the ice ages where carnivorous Neanderthals died out. Homo Sapiens Island hopped and occupied every continent in the process before taking the sea in the first space craft of the human mind- the little boats which were for thousands of years the internet of the world-wide human community.
A blink of evolutionary time after the aquatic ape, Homo Sapiens built their first cities along the great rivers, The Nile,The Indus and Tigris & Euphrates. These were Hydraulic cultures Agriculture and urban civilisation was based on the socially organized control of water. It was in these early hydraulic cultures that artificial water courses and pools began to appear, a reminder not so much of humanities watery past but of the hydraulic modernity of organized human culture.
Greece and Rome provide the viaduct that brings the ancient world into our own, we forget at our peril that water is the basis of urban civilization. The culverted rivers of the modern metropolis hide the fact that the lack of clean water and drainage would render urban life impossible in half a day. Our greatest cities ironically are also under threat from inundation from the rising level of the open seas that they were built to command.
Sunday, May 09, 2004
Everfish/ferverish
“Transparent as a red cellophane fish on a warm hand, read the key -‘you are passionate’…..Now back to the sparkling timeless sea, where I will wander, a glass dolphin,with no recall, only an eternal now felicity…”
This is an extract from a diary that the author wrote whilst hallucinating and feverish after an operation in 2003. The combination of pain, general anesthetic and fever triggered a temporary loss of identity, interestingly the metaphors of transparency and water surfaced. The equating of immersion in water and a loss of identity is an ancient one. The rite of (adult) baptism uses total immersion as a symbol of washing away a previous self, it has a link to the rites of the Essenes and Gnostics as well as with early Christianity. One of the most puzzling and profound passages in the Koran seems to describe this necessary and desirable loss of ego in poetic terms.
“ Moses said to his servant: ‘I will journey on until I reach the land where the two seas meet, though I may march for ages.’
But when at last they came to the land where the two seas met, they forgot their fish, which made it’s way into the water, swimming at will.”
The miraculous revival and escape of a dead fish precedes a parable which teaches that God’s interventions in human life may appear through apparently negative events.
The surrender of individual will to the ‘higher power’ of water/nature/god is a current that runs through the literature of the Romantic period, from Shelley , who had a morbid desire to be overwhelmed by nature, to Goethe who had a more measured notion of a health giving surrender to internal as well as external natural forces . It was Goethe who is credited with popularizing swimming amongst the educated classes of Germany, apparently inspired by ‘the dash and style of swimming aristocrats like Byron’.
In the pre-Nazi era this de-individualisation took on a more sinister turn in hindsight. But the joyful rediscovery of healthy bodies and sunshine went on in many of the countries who were experimenting with new forms of democratic tribalism, including Scandanavia and Britain.
Immersion in water can indeed cause a physical loss of a component of self image. A body in warm water loses the feeling of distinction between inner and outer. Experiments with floatation tanks (with and without psychedelic drugs) in the 60’s found subjects lost all sense of body, time and space in the dark, silent, blood heat and neutral density of the tank.
“Transparent as a red cellophane fish on a warm hand, read the key -‘you are passionate’…..Now back to the sparkling timeless sea, where I will wander, a glass dolphin,with no recall, only an eternal now felicity…”
This is an extract from a diary that the author wrote whilst hallucinating and feverish after an operation in 2003. The combination of pain, general anesthetic and fever triggered a temporary loss of identity, interestingly the metaphors of transparency and water surfaced. The equating of immersion in water and a loss of identity is an ancient one. The rite of (adult) baptism uses total immersion as a symbol of washing away a previous self, it has a link to the rites of the Essenes and Gnostics as well as with early Christianity. One of the most puzzling and profound passages in the Koran seems to describe this necessary and desirable loss of ego in poetic terms.
“ Moses said to his servant: ‘I will journey on until I reach the land where the two seas meet, though I may march for ages.’
But when at last they came to the land where the two seas met, they forgot their fish, which made it’s way into the water, swimming at will.”
The miraculous revival and escape of a dead fish precedes a parable which teaches that God’s interventions in human life may appear through apparently negative events.
The surrender of individual will to the ‘higher power’ of water/nature/god is a current that runs through the literature of the Romantic period, from Shelley , who had a morbid desire to be overwhelmed by nature, to Goethe who had a more measured notion of a health giving surrender to internal as well as external natural forces . It was Goethe who is credited with popularizing swimming amongst the educated classes of Germany, apparently inspired by ‘the dash and style of swimming aristocrats like Byron’.
In the pre-Nazi era this de-individualisation took on a more sinister turn in hindsight. But the joyful rediscovery of healthy bodies and sunshine went on in many of the countries who were experimenting with new forms of democratic tribalism, including Scandanavia and Britain.
Immersion in water can indeed cause a physical loss of a component of self image. A body in warm water loses the feeling of distinction between inner and outer. Experiments with floatation tanks (with and without psychedelic drugs) in the 60’s found subjects lost all sense of body, time and space in the dark, silent, blood heat and neutral density of the tank.
Thursday, May 06, 2004
The pool is body warm, smoothed, non-slip and safe, only the powerful lighting stops the place from being intimate, interestingly swimming in the dark or semi-dark is a favourite fantasy moment for swimmers. I can remember swimming in a Cardiff Lido in the early hours of the morning in the stifling heat of the summer of '76. Dozens of other furtive swimmers had also scaled the fences to get in, but all swam silently in the intimacy of darkness. Another incident I can remember is swimming in the deep clear water of Bosheton Quay in pembrokeshire, on the beach a bonfire blazed, the stars sparkled over a black sea, but each hand or leg movement ignited phosphorescence in the water.
The myths of pool impropriety and impurity are strong, pool users will comment on the outrages that defile the sacred waters; phlegm, elastoplasts, nappies, peeing or worse- the pool closing 'floater'. And yet the bodily taboos and sensitiviies mark out a space which is very much body centered.
Swimming pools almost uniquely amongst large public buildings require their users to go through a ritualistic approach in order to use them. (Airports are possibly more elaborate). The user must enter, buy a ticket, change out of their worldly garments into special costume, stow garments and, with colour coded wristband visible enter a world which is warm, humid and brightly lit before entering the unaturally blue water fragranced with disenfecting gas. In my youth there was also invariably a footbath barrier to cross before entering the pristine pool-side- this had some ritual effectiveness against the evil veruca. I still feel the lack of this footbath ritual and am the only guy who I know who showers BEFORE entering the pool. The pool environment is also a highly and visibly socially regulated area. Notices still spell out forbidden behaviour; no running, no jumping, no bombing etc.
Wednesday, May 05, 2004
“They’re not like any other historical monument in the country. It’s not a graveyard, it’s not an historical castle, a big country fancy house where there are ropes telling you where you can and can’t walk, what you can and can’t touch, what you’re supposed to admire. This is something you can use on a daily basis. You can go in there, take all your clothes off, get fit, flirt with people, snog somebody, restore all your aches and pains, and you can use it on a daily basis.’
Richard E Grant’s appeal for Victoria Baths in Manchester the BBC ‘Event-TV’ series ‘Restoration’ certainly struck a chord with the viewers, even discounting intense local lobbying (and why should you want to?) The almost 300,000 people who voted for the building to be (partially) restored obviously felt an affection for the building or for what it represented. Built in 1903 in a red brick gothic style reminiscent (to a southerner) of Paddinton railway station, this building was a people’s palace, complete with stained glass and terrazzo tiles.
The Victoria Baths were originally built with three distinct sections in line with Late Victorian concepts of propriety- Males 1st Class, Males 2nd Class and Females. Each class of user had their own entrance, swimming pool and slipper baths (slipper baths being so called because of the cape which covered each bather to preserve modesty- and so made the whole bath look like a giant slipper). Mixed bathing was only introduced in 1914 and it was not until the 1920's that families could swim together in the 1st Class Pool. The 1st class pool also doubled as a ballroom, a dual use which was surprisingly common in the early twentieth century pool.
As with many pools of this period, the baths were closed by a cash-strapped city council in the 1990’s despite considerable local opposition. Whilst the restoration of historic private dwellings was popular amongst aspirational individuals in the 80’s and 90’s , public bodies were and still are loth to put money into restoration of Victorian and pre-war public architecture. The ‘myth of progress’ still outweighs ‘the golden age myth’ for buildings of this age and usage. Interestingly this prejudice is less marked in dealing with ‘industrial heritage’, which has become achingly trendy. The prejudice is understandable, Industrial architecture is relatively non ideological and functional, whereas public buildings of the British imperial era speak of Class and Empire and are built on a scale which imposes their values upon their occupants. It is not surprising that local politicians with an urge for modernity and progress found these buildings hard to stomach as well as expensive to maintain.
The plans for Victoria Baths currently include space for Art . Visual Art (and possibly Theatre) in contemporary Britain being the only cultural forms which are permitted to repurpose large public spaces for a new era.
Richard E Grant’s appeal for Victoria Baths in Manchester the BBC ‘Event-TV’ series ‘Restoration’ certainly struck a chord with the viewers, even discounting intense local lobbying (and why should you want to?) The almost 300,000 people who voted for the building to be (partially) restored obviously felt an affection for the building or for what it represented. Built in 1903 in a red brick gothic style reminiscent (to a southerner) of Paddinton railway station, this building was a people’s palace, complete with stained glass and terrazzo tiles.
The Victoria Baths were originally built with three distinct sections in line with Late Victorian concepts of propriety- Males 1st Class, Males 2nd Class and Females. Each class of user had their own entrance, swimming pool and slipper baths (slipper baths being so called because of the cape which covered each bather to preserve modesty- and so made the whole bath look like a giant slipper). Mixed bathing was only introduced in 1914 and it was not until the 1920's that families could swim together in the 1st Class Pool. The 1st class pool also doubled as a ballroom, a dual use which was surprisingly common in the early twentieth century pool.
As with many pools of this period, the baths were closed by a cash-strapped city council in the 1990’s despite considerable local opposition. Whilst the restoration of historic private dwellings was popular amongst aspirational individuals in the 80’s and 90’s , public bodies were and still are loth to put money into restoration of Victorian and pre-war public architecture. The ‘myth of progress’ still outweighs ‘the golden age myth’ for buildings of this age and usage. Interestingly this prejudice is less marked in dealing with ‘industrial heritage’, which has become achingly trendy. The prejudice is understandable, Industrial architecture is relatively non ideological and functional, whereas public buildings of the British imperial era speak of Class and Empire and are built on a scale which imposes their values upon their occupants. It is not surprising that local politicians with an urge for modernity and progress found these buildings hard to stomach as well as expensive to maintain.
The plans for Victoria Baths currently include space for Art . Visual Art (and possibly Theatre) in contemporary Britain being the only cultural forms which are permitted to repurpose large public spaces for a new era.
Tuesday, May 04, 2004
‘It is universally admitted, that a knowledge of the art of swimming is both a useful and elegant accomplishment, and it is much to be regretted that greater pains are not taken to learn it. That man has not he same, or an equal facility in swimming with many inferior animals, is a fact which is familiar to everyone, and can easily be accounted for. Whilst other animals are possessed of instinct, by which, without any process of reasoning, they are invariably led to the adoption of the means that are suitable for the attainment of the end, man, in this, as well as in an infinite variety of other instances, is chiefly left to the guidance of his reason; and all reasoning must favour the cultivation of the art of swimming…The upsetting of the slender boats of the natives of Otaheite is to them a subject of merriment:; they swim about’ catch hold of the light vessel, right her again, and paddle away, never considering they have been in any danger. Were the practice of swimming universal in this country – and it might be so- we should hardly ever hear of deaths by drowning.’
This quote from the ‘Boy’s Holiday Book’ of 1877 contains two cultural myths about swimming which reflect a dual ideology of ‘naturalness’ and ‘the subjection of nature’ which continues to form an odd binary within the sport.
Swimming is Natural
Swimming is natural, animals can do it by instinct, humans can’t swim by instinct because the have higher faculties, faculties that must be trained by reason. The modern image of the ‘Water-baby’ adds another dimension to the myth, the idea of the pre-rational innocence that allows access to instinct which culture over-rides.
Rousseau’s more physically strenuous ideas of liberating the natural self were influential on the public schools which encouraged cold water bathing, swimming, tree climbing and Spartan dormitories.
Whilst ths idea of ‘naturalness’ is used, there is also a strong sense of overcoming the natural animalistic body by force of will. This peculiar contradiction of Eros and Thanatos continues to adhere to representations of swimming and water sports, from the divers of ‘Olympia’ to the surfers of ‘Point Break’
Also in this passage is the very English and very Victorian concept of civilized men being duty bound to match the abilities of the savage. Swimming matches between English gentlemen and Polynesian or American Indian ‘natives’ were a great feature of the early history of competitive swimming. Arguably this ethos made England in the 18th and 19th century, the dynamo of the strange new thing called sport - As Karl Jung said- The English taught the Swiss to climb their own mountains. (and Byron swam the Hellespont.)
This quote from the ‘Boy’s Holiday Book’ of 1877 contains two cultural myths about swimming which reflect a dual ideology of ‘naturalness’ and ‘the subjection of nature’ which continues to form an odd binary within the sport.
Swimming is Natural
Swimming is natural, animals can do it by instinct, humans can’t swim by instinct because the have higher faculties, faculties that must be trained by reason. The modern image of the ‘Water-baby’ adds another dimension to the myth, the idea of the pre-rational innocence that allows access to instinct which culture over-rides.
Rousseau’s more physically strenuous ideas of liberating the natural self were influential on the public schools which encouraged cold water bathing, swimming, tree climbing and Spartan dormitories.
Whilst ths idea of ‘naturalness’ is used, there is also a strong sense of overcoming the natural animalistic body by force of will. This peculiar contradiction of Eros and Thanatos continues to adhere to representations of swimming and water sports, from the divers of ‘Olympia’ to the surfers of ‘Point Break’
Also in this passage is the very English and very Victorian concept of civilized men being duty bound to match the abilities of the savage. Swimming matches between English gentlemen and Polynesian or American Indian ‘natives’ were a great feature of the early history of competitive swimming. Arguably this ethos made England in the 18th and 19th century, the dynamo of the strange new thing called sport - As Karl Jung said- The English taught the Swiss to climb their own mountains. (and Byron swam the Hellespont.)
Monday, May 03, 2004
August 4 2003
10am –2 pm
Lulworth Cove
Lulworth cove, beloved by Rupert Brooke, Geology field trips and Scuba divers, is next to Durdle Dore and mercifully surrounded by thousands of acres of MOD land where tanks roam freely and artillery practice is often a clearly audible feature of the afternoon. Whilst not condoning warfare, the MOD have managed to keep these two iconic Dorset beaches undeveloped and isolated. The Cove is a great fold of Portland stone with a beach of painfully sized rocks and boulders. The appeal of the place to swimmers is great, the beach though rocky is steeply raked and a sun trap. The water quickly deepens, but then levels out at an even 10-15ft of crystal clear water. For the sun-bathing parent the cove is perfect, there is no tide to speak of, the curve of the beach means that the whole arc is visible from every point, and there are no currents to speak of. This all combines to mean that swimming children can be monitored with only the occasional glance up from a paperback or snooze, even lilos drift without peril.
Today we’re day trippers and so I’m determined to spend every available moment in the cold clear water. I don my wet-suit top and mask and snorkel, the place is a snorkeling paradise. Forests of seaweed harbour dozens of varieties of fish (today I count 9), Without a swell, swimming is easy and my seven year old daughter ventures into deep water for the first time in her life, albeit with her father within reach, My 14 year old dons mask and surf-skin and chases crabs, even my cold water hating wife is enticed in with the loan of a wet-suit top. In the calm sea I feel bold enough to swim a few hundred yards across the cove, looking back at the beach from the deep water it is notable how few people feel confident enough to strike out into a proper swim- we’re all ‘penguins’ now, hugging the beach. This is probably fortunate from the point of view of coast-guards and life-guards- but my urge to swim round the headland to Durdle Dore feels deeply dangerous, Is it? The modern town-dweller is ill equipped to judge, even the regular and predictable state of the tide comes as a surprise. I do wonder if the safe water of the indoor pool, which was originally envisaged as a simulation of a ‘real’ swimming environment, has replaced sea, river and pond in a depleted aquatic imagination . Perhaps the best that can be said of (UK) sea bathing is that it at least gives a sense of seasonality and diurnal rhythm in a 365/24/7 world.
10am –2 pm
Lulworth Cove
Lulworth cove, beloved by Rupert Brooke, Geology field trips and Scuba divers, is next to Durdle Dore and mercifully surrounded by thousands of acres of MOD land where tanks roam freely and artillery practice is often a clearly audible feature of the afternoon. Whilst not condoning warfare, the MOD have managed to keep these two iconic Dorset beaches undeveloped and isolated. The Cove is a great fold of Portland stone with a beach of painfully sized rocks and boulders. The appeal of the place to swimmers is great, the beach though rocky is steeply raked and a sun trap. The water quickly deepens, but then levels out at an even 10-15ft of crystal clear water. For the sun-bathing parent the cove is perfect, there is no tide to speak of, the curve of the beach means that the whole arc is visible from every point, and there are no currents to speak of. This all combines to mean that swimming children can be monitored with only the occasional glance up from a paperback or snooze, even lilos drift without peril.
Today we’re day trippers and so I’m determined to spend every available moment in the cold clear water. I don my wet-suit top and mask and snorkel, the place is a snorkeling paradise. Forests of seaweed harbour dozens of varieties of fish (today I count 9), Without a swell, swimming is easy and my seven year old daughter ventures into deep water for the first time in her life, albeit with her father within reach, My 14 year old dons mask and surf-skin and chases crabs, even my cold water hating wife is enticed in with the loan of a wet-suit top. In the calm sea I feel bold enough to swim a few hundred yards across the cove, looking back at the beach from the deep water it is notable how few people feel confident enough to strike out into a proper swim- we’re all ‘penguins’ now, hugging the beach. This is probably fortunate from the point of view of coast-guards and life-guards- but my urge to swim round the headland to Durdle Dore feels deeply dangerous, Is it? The modern town-dweller is ill equipped to judge, even the regular and predictable state of the tide comes as a surprise. I do wonder if the safe water of the indoor pool, which was originally envisaged as a simulation of a ‘real’ swimming environment, has replaced sea, river and pond in a depleted aquatic imagination . Perhaps the best that can be said of (UK) sea bathing is that it at least gives a sense of seasonality and diurnal rhythm in a 365/24/7 world.
Sunday, May 02, 2004
2 May 2004
Sunday
Dursley Pool
7.30am –8.30am
Lane Swimming Walrus
I arrive to swim my weekly mile. The swimming lane is full of mature males and out of deference I join the females and pups in the main pool. Idly I compete with the faster swimmers in the lagoon, yes I’m the fastest here. When the slow swimmers depart I dive under the rope and begin my medium paced crawl. My lane companions change over the next 45 minutes, a female and pup offer no challenge, the pup moves through the water like a pond-skater to my walrus. Then there is a challenge to my lane supremacy, another male enters, broad chested and as hairy as me- but with the flat stomach of the enemy – the younger alpha male. I step up my pace, yes I can match him, after ten lengths he leaves the lane, I have sole command of my territory. A little later an even younger male enters the lane, I judge him a slower swimmer and no threat, but just in case I pause at the end of each length and finely judge the gap between us, I launch into my length at a point where if he is faster than me he will not be quite able to pass me over the length and so will have to be content to slow his pace and fall behind my lead. After 54 lengths I leave the lane and the pool attendants take this as a cue to roll up the lane barrier. The next 10 lengths are lazily executed and generous in my own sense of muscular stamina. I leave the pool, taking care to suck in my paunch. In my mind at least I am boss walrus, best to avoid the full length mirror in the changing room, at least in profile.
Do I think like this really? Not consciously- but not so deeply unconscious either that I can’t retrieve it and translate it. Muscular masculinity is a rare element in my modern semi suburban existence. My prowess is seen in opening difficult jars, carrying heavy shopping and using heavy duty gardening equipment. The degree of male rivalry and muscular display in the swimming pool is fairly minor compared to Saturday morning football, but there is added frisson in the fact that bathing is often relatively uncohortised, mixed in age and gender. No surprise then that some aquatic ape behaviour is just below the surface.
Sunday
Dursley Pool
7.30am –8.30am
Lane Swimming Walrus
I arrive to swim my weekly mile. The swimming lane is full of mature males and out of deference I join the females and pups in the main pool. Idly I compete with the faster swimmers in the lagoon, yes I’m the fastest here. When the slow swimmers depart I dive under the rope and begin my medium paced crawl. My lane companions change over the next 45 minutes, a female and pup offer no challenge, the pup moves through the water like a pond-skater to my walrus. Then there is a challenge to my lane supremacy, another male enters, broad chested and as hairy as me- but with the flat stomach of the enemy – the younger alpha male. I step up my pace, yes I can match him, after ten lengths he leaves the lane, I have sole command of my territory. A little later an even younger male enters the lane, I judge him a slower swimmer and no threat, but just in case I pause at the end of each length and finely judge the gap between us, I launch into my length at a point where if he is faster than me he will not be quite able to pass me over the length and so will have to be content to slow his pace and fall behind my lead. After 54 lengths I leave the lane and the pool attendants take this as a cue to roll up the lane barrier. The next 10 lengths are lazily executed and generous in my own sense of muscular stamina. I leave the pool, taking care to suck in my paunch. In my mind at least I am boss walrus, best to avoid the full length mirror in the changing room, at least in profile.
Do I think like this really? Not consciously- but not so deeply unconscious either that I can’t retrieve it and translate it. Muscular masculinity is a rare element in my modern semi suburban existence. My prowess is seen in opening difficult jars, carrying heavy shopping and using heavy duty gardening equipment. The degree of male rivalry and muscular display in the swimming pool is fairly minor compared to Saturday morning football, but there is added frisson in the fact that bathing is often relatively uncohortised, mixed in age and gender. No surprise then that some aquatic ape behaviour is just below the surface.
Saturday, May 01, 2004
Llangranog
30 July 2003
2.30-5.30
The tide is high up the beach, and the sun is obscured behind cloud. Most of the figures on the beach are in wet suits, clutching Body-Boards and facing into the surf. The offshore breeze and the high tide are throwing up fairly large waves, large enough to flatten my 14-year-old son anyway. The orientation of so many bodies in one direction looks like some act of collective worship. Each surfer, surfboard or not, finds a place to receive the incoming swell as it breaks into a wave. In the shallows less bold souls catch the waves as they rush in over feet and turn-ups. Further in the waders try and keep t-shirts dry.
The swell is both rhythmic and unpredictable. At 4.30 the sun breaks through and the sea is suddenly a sparkling expanse against which the leaping figures are silhouetted. Through half closed eyes the swimmers in their black knee length wet suits and Baggies uncannily resemble Edwardian bathers in modest wool bathing costumes.
Cultural traditions transfer as if by induction loop. A century or two of summers in which the participants repeat patterns and gesture sequences which slowly alter as participants slowly change. External influences, fashions, technologies, fads and world wars make their print- but the print is a voice on a metal tape of revolving human behaviour.
The inductive loop of behaviour, magnetizes some pre-conscious, pre-individual strata of collective intelligence- History? Community? Blood?
Big swells of history mix different pools and streams of induction, but there is never a freezing and a break, traces exist in parts per million of perpetually renewed patterns- even if only in homeopathic amounts.
An Italian/Welsh family runs the beach café. The ice cream is authentically delicious and made freshly each day.
30 July 2003
2.30-5.30
The tide is high up the beach, and the sun is obscured behind cloud. Most of the figures on the beach are in wet suits, clutching Body-Boards and facing into the surf. The offshore breeze and the high tide are throwing up fairly large waves, large enough to flatten my 14-year-old son anyway. The orientation of so many bodies in one direction looks like some act of collective worship. Each surfer, surfboard or not, finds a place to receive the incoming swell as it breaks into a wave. In the shallows less bold souls catch the waves as they rush in over feet and turn-ups. Further in the waders try and keep t-shirts dry.
The swell is both rhythmic and unpredictable. At 4.30 the sun breaks through and the sea is suddenly a sparkling expanse against which the leaping figures are silhouetted. Through half closed eyes the swimmers in their black knee length wet suits and Baggies uncannily resemble Edwardian bathers in modest wool bathing costumes.
Cultural traditions transfer as if by induction loop. A century or two of summers in which the participants repeat patterns and gesture sequences which slowly alter as participants slowly change. External influences, fashions, technologies, fads and world wars make their print- but the print is a voice on a metal tape of revolving human behaviour.
The inductive loop of behaviour, magnetizes some pre-conscious, pre-individual strata of collective intelligence- History? Community? Blood?
Big swells of history mix different pools and streams of induction, but there is never a freezing and a break, traces exist in parts per million of perpetually renewed patterns- even if only in homeopathic amounts.
An Italian/Welsh family runs the beach café. The ice cream is authentically delicious and made freshly each day.
