Welcome!
Thanks for coming along
⚡️ View the latest digest and the full archive here.
📐 My Goals ℹ️ Donations Page & Status 📸 MPP Status 🛍️Shop
The alternative Easter Rabbit - the vampire rabbit of Newcastle - situated opposite the cathedral entrance.
“Nobody sees a flower - really - it is so small it takes time - we haven't time - and to see takes time, like to have a friend takes time.”
― Georgia O'Keeffe,
Chicken Jockey!
Bernard Arnault, in his introduction to David Hockney’s latest exhibition, says of Hockney:
‘Hockney brings absolute joy to our world, enchanting our emotions and our thoughts. He enables us to perceive nature and the world as greater, more luminous, and also more profound. He invites us to discover ourselves.’
When I read that, my first thought was: But there is nothing as profound or luminous as nature or our world – why does Hockney need to show us that?
Maybe the answer lies in a local shop I visited one November, where the shop assistant said, “Isn’t the autumn beautiful this year?” And then a young girl responded, “I don’t know, we didn’t study the seasons at school.”
Or perhaps it lies in the potent words of Svetlana Alexievich in her touching Chernobyl Prayer:
‘Man had been caught off-guard, he was not ready. Ill-prepared as a species, our entire natural apparatus, attuned to seeing, hearing and touching, had malfunctioned.’
These are truths that are slowly being shrouded by our immersion in the virtual. But Hockney, through his work, might help re-tune our natural apparatus, or show that young girl the joy of what it is to experience the seasons—and, in doing so, bring meaning and connection to our lives.
The reality is that our windscreens become muddied by the demands of modern life—and it takes visionaries like Hockney—artists, artisans, writers, community leaders—to help us reconnect with that wonder. When our windscreens are muddied, it’s difficult for us, as individuals and as communities, to sort the wheat from the chaff. We lose clarity. Even something as seemingly mundane as fog becomes invisible to us. Oscar Wilde reminded us:
“At present, people see fogs, not because there are fogs, but because poets and painters have taught them the mysterious loveliness of such effects. There may have been fogs for centuries in London. I dare say there were. But no one saw them, and so we do not know anything about them. They did not exist till art had invented them.”
I’ve photographed many projects where artists, artisans and conservators have helped restore—and sometimes transform—the memory of an age, an epithet, a story, a turning point, through a building, a memorial or a piece of art.
Recently I recorded Rory Moore and his team at R. Moore Building Conservation bringing the clock tower at Ruthin back to life.
It wasn’t just the careful cleaning and restoration of the broken parts of the monument that I captured, but some of the events that surrounded it.
These involved the community—talks by the architect and Rory himself about the tower’s story, and arts projects that helped people re-form attachments to the town. One project even involved schoolchildren re-creating the clock tower in Minecraft—a brilliant way of connecting something rooted in the past with the chicken jockey, popcorn-exploding zeitgeist of today.
These artisans are not only keeping traditions alive—they’re enabling us to pause and think, to see, hear and touch again. And in that role, in my opinion, they are magicians. In so many ways, by humbly carrying out their work, they illuminate essential parts of being human—parts that our contemporary world too often dismisses as unimportant.
Because it isn’t really about the building, the artwork, or the monument. It’s about people. It’s about not letting ourselves fall into the hollowness and prevailing trait of our age: loneliness and isolation. Not just the loneliness of being alone, but the loneliness of being surrounded by people who are elsewhere. These are acts of reconnection. Rituals that help communities see themselves more clearly. That strengthen identity and foster belonging. That stop us from drifting.
At Ruthin, the clock tower had slipped into the background of everyday life. But through restoration—and the guile and imagination of the community—it was brought back, not just structurally, but emotionally. In an age of cascading challenges, where it feels as though our very way of life is under threat, what happened at Ruthin offers something rare and powerful: a reminder that, even now, communities have the capacity to craft counter-narratives—narratives shaped by care, creativity and resilience. And often, it is artists, makers, and those quietly working in the background who help bring these stories to light—opening up new ways of seeing, feeling, and connecting. In doing so, they remind us who we are—and that, to counteract the hollowness of our times, it is our shared imperative and quiet duty to help one another flourish and thrive.
📸🏛🚐 If you find value in Genius Loci Digest, I’d be delighted if you considered becoming a member.
Your support helps to keep the Genius Loci Digest free and public-facing, keeps Woody on the road, and fuels Member Powered Photography—where I carry out professional photo shoots for historic places at no cost.
It also allows me to continue tracing, through photography, writing and art, those fleeting moments when place, time and light align to reveal something quietly profound.
Haslingden, Lancashire.
This same spirit of transformation lies at the heart of a new project I’ve been involved with in Haslingden, Lancashire. It forms part of a wider initiative, led by project organiser Gina Warburton and supported by other members of the community and Lancashire County Council.
As part of the project, objects from the Whitaker Museum in Rawtenstall will be brought into participating buildings across Haslingden town centre—drawing new lines of connection between past and present, between museum and marketplace, between story and street.
In an attempt to help people form deeper attachments to their own town and community, I’ve created a series of paintings documenting eight of Haslingden’s buildings—capturing something of the conversation between the vernacular and the polite, between the ordinary and the civic.
Each building bears architectural details that speak of craft, of care, of memory—features so often overlooked in the rhythm of everyday life.
By turning these street buildings into art, I hope it might encourage people to look again—and in looking, to begin to see the beauty in their own town. To notice the details that give it character, the layers of history written into brick and stone. My hope is that this act of paying attention might help spark new connections—ones that not only honour the past, but also contribute in some small way to the town’s future.
The exhibition will take place shortly in Haslingden, with my paintings on display in the town’s library.
It’s a small gesture, but perhaps, like the work at Ruthin, it can remind us that through art, through attention, and through care, we can begin to restore more than just buildings—we can begin to restore our sense of place, and ourselves within it.
My van is an art station too.
Andy Marshall
This book has just been released to complement the current exhibition at the Fondation Louis Vuitton in Paris.
I do wish I could see this in Paris - but the book is a wonderful second best. It is of a size to be able to immerse yourself in his work - there's so much to see. It isn't cheap - but worth every penny.
I didn't see the rain until Hockney showed me.
The Ruthin Clock Tower Committee also produced a booklet (with some of my photographs in it) that celebrated restoration and all of the activities that surrounded it.
Andy Marshall
Artists and Artisans
⬆️ I feel so guilty because being here doesn’t feel like work. It’s a joy to be in such a special place watching dedicated and talented people take care of something that means so much to the local community.
⬆️ Both Ben, with his careful craftsmanship and Austin with his seasonal perspective, live in a time-space with a longer view - a time that is qualitative rather than quantitive, and more importantly, one that pulls into the frame our future generations.
⬆️ Adam is more than a bookbinder; he is a Time Lord, a guardian of this precious conduit to history, enshrining fragile hooks to the past with a love and dedication that has taken him over 14 years to hone.
⬆️ And it isn’t an act of hubris; it is an act of humility towards the material—a need to particulate the light on that particular piece of glass. Tom Denny notes that, whilst working in this way, new figures and personalities have emerged.
A growing repository of videos showing remarkable buildings and landscapes:
Andy Marshall
Andy Marshall
Andy Marshall
MEMBER POWERED ART!
Member Powered Photography has been remarkably successful in both producing professional media for historic locations at no cost to them.
Now, I'm making plans on introducing a way for me to come and sketch and paint your building, project or landscape - to produce a piece of art that you can keep and share and do with what you like. I will be with you for a day - and will also share your story on the digest.
More coming soon..
Andy MarshallWishing you a happy, peaceful and restful Easter. Thanks for coming along.
Atelier - My Art Shop
Visit My Art Shop
Do you know of a company or firm that might be able to sponsor the digest? Sponsorships are now going towards Member Powered Photography and recorded on the Donations Page.
Sponsor a Membership and get your own landing page on the Digest
More information here
Thank You!
Photographs and words by Andy Marshall (unless otherwise stated). Most photographs are taken with Iphone 14 Pro and DJI Mini 3 Pro.
Member discussion