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St. Peter and St. Paul, Broadwell, Oxfordshire
"Architecture should speak of its time and place, but yearn for timelessness."
– Frank Gehry
Another Way of Telling
The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes."
– Marcel Proust
I’m travelling along the A1151, and after a quick glance in the rear-view mirror, I see no electric hookups in sight—so all is well. As I round a bend in the road, a circular tower pierces the horizon, and then, as the van straightens out of the curve, the tower pirouettes through fields of sap green. It’s almost too late, but I manage to swerve off the road just in time, coming to a bumpy halt along a pot-holed grassy lane. I've managed to bump into the medieval church of St. Lawrence in Beeston Saint Lawrence, Norfolk.
Relief washes over me—something new to explore, a welcome distraction from the mental clutter of the morning’s news. The world feels as if it’s on fire, with the relentless stream of media making it difficult to see through the noise and chaos.
The light is glorious, but fading fast. I don’t have time to pause and extract meaning from the building before me. There’s no time to think about its purpose, to extricate the narrative or the intent. All I can do is find a way of using my camera that is visceral, instinctive. My camera becomes a divining rod, leading me beyond the human interventions into the random chaos of a medieval flint and ironstone wall.
And then, without any questioning on my part, the building begins to speak.
It speaks through the patterns that are both simple and complex, infinite and bounded, random and orderly. It does this all at once revealing a deep, underlying order beneath the surface chaos.
This building tells me that there are truths which can't be easily seen through the lens of the present, through the bluster of politics or the turmoil of our times. The flint and clay, though shaped and repurposed by human hands, reminds me of the cosmos. It has retained something that is elemental, universal.
I photograph a foxglove against the wall, and I notice certain shapes and patterns echo each other—a harmony that is fractal in nature. These forms repeat the pattern of the lichen spread across the handmade clay bricks, small pockets of life quietly thriving in the wall's shelter. Merlin Sheldrake calls lichen "little riddles" because they are the product of a symbiotic dance between fungus and algae. Neither could exist as lichen without the other—a union that blurs the boundaries of individuality. And in their interdependence lies a lesson: harmony arises not from dominance but from collaboration, where each component is uplifted by the other to create something new, resilient, and enduring. Some of the colonies of lichen on the church might be as old as the church itself. In Swedish Lapland some colonies are thought to be over 9000 years old.
When I observe the fabric of the church as a whole, I’m reminded of Richard Nelson’s words:
"The forest is not merely an expression or representation of sacredness, nor a place to invoke the sacred; the forest is sacredness itself."
And so are the patterns I've come across today.
This building was raised amidst social complexities, religious fervour, and doctrinal disputes, spanning everything from transubstantiation to consubstantiation, from the evolution of liturgical practice to the Reformation. And yet, through the giddy heights of religious passion and the eventual secular redundancy, these walls have quietly sustained their message: that when we take time to truly look, there is an enduring pattern beyond the buildings and ideologies we construct. A pattern that reminds us that, like the lichen, we are more than just singular beings; we are part of a delicate web of connections, strengthened through unity.
Observing the building in this way has blurred my focus, taken the self out of I and made me feel a part of something greater. I put my camera away and take in the building from a distance. I then sit and start to sketch the porch. The cosmos of flint is entering my mind and flowing through my hand.
As I outline the gable, I realise that these moments of discovery are not about finding something new, but about seeing with new eyes. In a world overwhelmed by noise and uncertainty, ancient structures like this remind us that there is a deeper order—an abiding calm amidst the storm. They whisper of harmony in the chaos, offer us a glimpse of something larger than ourselves, and remind us that, in our human-centric world, there are alternative worlds around us and other ways of telling.
Here is another way of telling.
For me, the real journey of discovery is not in seeking new landscapes, but in learning to see the world differently. When I interact with a place with different eyes and cultivate new ways of seeing, it feels as though I’m being tapped on the shoulder by something unseen. When we pause and listen—to the rain, the wind, or the little riddles held in a flint wall—we discover a truth that transcends the chaos of the moment, and perhaps, even ourselves.
My sketch reads:
'I came to this place from North Walsham. I was hurtling down the road and saw the round tower all lit up by the sunlight. I came to a screeching halt and parked the van. The light was in contrast. Sun then moody clouds. This is how I felt.'
I put my heart and soul into the Genius Loci Digest and it takes a day a week to produce. With your support, I’m able to keep this digest free and public facing. 📸🏛🚐
For me, my camera is more than just a tool—it is a medium of connection.
It allows me to engage with the subject in a profound way, revealing layers of meaning, while also creating a bridge between myself and others. Through the lens, I not only connect to the heart of a place but also share that connection with those who seek the same sense of wonder and discovery.
The Genius Loci Digest Member Powered Photography (MPP) has helped connect me to some remarkable people and places. MPP allows me to photograph historic places and people for free. I'm committed to photograph a historic place for free anywhere in the UK for every 20 new tier members to the Digest.
MPP places have altered the state of my mind like wine through water.
✨At St. Elli's, Llanelli, Wales both church and landscape seemed to fuse into a harmonious whole a real example of genius loci. The yew trees in the churchyard added to the drama of the building.
✨ I met a book binder in Ruthin, Wales, who is a kind of Time Lord, a guardian of a precious conduit to history, enshrining fragile hooks to the past with a love and dedication that has taken him over 14 years to hone
✨ I also met a remarkable stained glass artist who has furnished buildings with coloured light. A man that taught me how to see in a different way.
✨ At St. Lawrence, Gumfreston in Pembrokeshire I stood within a space that wouldn't intimidate our medieval forebears and looked into the eyes of one of them..
✨ At Sandwich in Kent I met a remarkable craftsman - a pargeter of beautiful things Philip Gaches - and worked with him on an MPP project at a significant historic site (soon to be revealed).
At St. Peter and St. Paul in Broadwell I helped capture the beams of sunlight - the atmosphere and mystery of the place - and managed to produce some magical photographs for them to use.
And the latest MPP photo shoot took place just a couple of weeks ago at the Merchant Adventurers' Hall in York. A story still to be told...
Can you help me with Member Powered Photography?
MPP enables me to provide my professional services anywhere in the UK for free - to help others within the realm of the historic environment. It also helps support me and keep me on the road.
Heritage and The Arts have suffered terribly over the last decade and I thought it might be refreshing to work out a way of giving something back.
I'm afraid we've used up our last MPP slot and there's a waiting list for more shoots (hopefully to take place this year).
Membership
Every 20 new members creates a new free slot.
Here's more information on membership and MPP
Donations and Purchases from the Shop
People have very kindly sent in donations and made purchases in my shop. I am putting the money towards MPP. Here's the current status:
How can I keep up to date with progress?
I share progress via the Digest and also via Members' communications. Members get to see exclusive media and information from each MPP site. I also have public status page.
I came across nature's patterns at other places.
At the Saxon church at Brixworth in front of a humble dry stone wall everything was alive: the stone, the moss and even the boundary that it betrayed. It was all so bloody beautiful.
In Jowkin Woods I encounter forms and shapes that I’ve not seen before: living entities with names that tie the tongue into knots: Marchantia polymorpha, Mycena, Asteraceae and Bromeliaceae.
Near to the Usk in Wales I feel as though a yew tree is orchestrating my activities where I find a way through the tangled mass - but the tree only affords me a spot that denies me prospect of its size. I’m in suspension - held within its living branches and the scrub beneath. To move on, I have to shed my bag and tripod.
Recent Digest Sponsors:
Rob Andrews is a remarkable historian who has a singular understanding of ecclesiastical buildings.
You can join him on Sat 12 October for a walking tour of Norman architecture in York. Link below. Access to this church (now the @yorkearlymusic) + others, including St Deny's, Walmgate.
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 hereThank You!
Photographs and words by Andy Marshall (unless otherwise stated). Most photographs are taken with Iphone 14 Pro and DJI Mini 3 Pro.
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