Page 45 Review by Jonathan
"A life lived in mud and clay... concrete and steel... manuscript and satellite signals...
"Wars fought between settlers along the marshy banks of the River. Ludgate, Tower Hill, Cornhill.
"Kings and Queens ruling far reaching empires.
"Wealth and poverty.
"Heroes and villains.
"New stories being written every minute.
"Constantly on the move.
"East... further east.
"Beneath the surface."
Tim Bird undoubtedly has what breakbeat meisters the Stanton Warriors would refer to as the power of 'uninterrupted flow'. Now, I will grant you on the face of it, that is an apparently incongruous analogy to begin a review with, but in fact, Tim's work is all about and indeed composed of continuous transition, even in the face of the strange disruptive interfaces thrown up between man and nature. His worldview of our sceptred isle encompasses the epochs and the aeons, not ignoring the here and now, but understanding its transitory place astride the fixed topological canvas of the landscape.
One of the most powerful moments for me in his previous work, GREY AREA: THE OLD STRAIGHT TRACK, a testament to that most visible evidence of man's dominion over vehicular time and space, the road, comes when the tarmac slices right by Stonehenge. Similarly, in this work detailing a trip from the centre of London out to the coast, first by underground and train, then on foot, Tim's combination of observational illustration and poetic overview has a deeply resonating effect.
Often in our lives, we don't have the time to think about the journeys we make, so concerned are we with simply getting from A to B as quickly as possible, for usually there is a purpose we need to fulfil that has necessitated our travels. Instead, Tim, wandering without an aim of his own, is able to consider all the journeys ever made along that route, resulting in the incremental changes over centuries from untamed wilderness to the measured, graduated, controlled environment of modernity that is the city of London and its suburbs. But we also see that in reverse, purely in modern day, as he finally ends up at the coast, or as he more romantically describes it...
"A terminus. A place where... the landscape... ceases."
Then moving on to the sea, as a coda, where once again, we see the fingerprint of man indelibly altering nature, Tim reciting the hypnotic mantra of the shipping forecast sea areas which will be soothingly familiar to anyone who has ever spent much time listening to Radio 4, as a cargo vessel slips past a buoy against the backdrop of a dramatic red sunset. A suitably tranquil, composed ending to another splendid issue of thoughtful musing.