The Hold

Back in July of this year the builders of ‘The Hold’ completed their part of the project and handed over the keys to Paul West, the Suffolk County Councillor with responsibility for heritage. On receiving the keys Mr West commented, “We can get on with fitting out and that’s a two to three month project. Then we’ll have a sort of phased opening over the autumn. We hope to have an exhibition in November.” Well, as we all know November 2020 brought us another lockdown.

Architect’s model of The Hold. Photograph courtesy of the Suffolk Archive Foundation.

If you’re not from Ipswich or Suffolk, you are probably wondering what on earth is ‘The Hold’. The answer is, it is the new, purpose-built complex that will house the Suffolk County Archive.

I have followed this project with interest since 2017 when, firstly and sadly, I noticed some large trees were being chopped down. Then a smart black fence of boards was erected securing the site and carrying a display of information about the development.

Over the past 18 months I have been taking the odd photograph as the buildings started to take shape. The Hold is situated on the edge of the University of Suffolk complex and is close to the Ipswich Waterfront. It has been mostly erected on part of the university car park, it was a pity about the trees though.

July 2019 – The Hold’s the two main archive buildings have roofs.
July 2019 and the front of The Hold is beginning to take shape.
December 2019 – and all the brick walls are completed and all the glass has been installed.
July 2020 – It is half a year later and we are now in the midst of the Covid pandemic yet the builders have continued working and the hard landscaping is is nearly finished.
There’s even been planting of lavender. Sadly, this was the first lavender planting which all died. Although lavender is ideal for this position and it is a pretty drought-tolerant plant, it does need some watering when first planted, oops!
September 2020 – All looking good and the second planting of lavender is thriving.
September 2020 – The old and the new.

Originally this £20 million project was scheduled to open around Easter 2020 no doubt with a special, civic event, however that date passed in the middle of the first lockdown and ‘The Hold’ finally opened in October.

October 2020 – The Hold is open to the public and there is even a café with outside tables at the entrance.
December 2020 – The Hold is open again after lockdown 2.0 and operating under Tier 2 restrictions. However, the café has not reopened and the archive will not be accessible in person until completion of the move from the old Gatacre Road site is completed sometime early in 2021.

It may have taken an extra six months to complete, but the finished building looks interesting and inviting and I look forward to visiting in normal times.

Quiet and Misty

If you’ve been following the news much during this first week of lockdown 2.0, you might have seen or heard that traffic levels in various parts of the country haven’t reduced as they did during the first lockdown. Obviously, the main difference this time is that the schools have stayed open and many children are driven to school. However, when I walked down to see my father on Sunday morning it was very much quieter than usual.

A busy Covid Sunday.

It was so quiet at this normally busy junction in Ipswich that I was able to capture this damp autumn street view. Not a single car in sight. Disappointingly though, by the time I arrived at my father’s flat, the early mist had almost lifted. This was a pity as my photograph would have been greatly improved if the bulk of the hulk had been shrouded instead of spotlit by the morning sun.

Ipswich Waterfront – marina, harbour, docks.

It was just a quick picture from his balcony as even though I wear a mask and the door is open for fresh air, I try not to stay too long in his flat, just in case.

Speedy visits are not the only changes to my walks down to the Waterfront. Back on 29th April this year, Suffolk County Council closed the Waterfront to vehicles, apparently for three weeks. This was to enable plenty of space for physical distancing for the 2,000 or so residents who live in the surrounding apartment blocks. Yes, the closure was for just three weeks! Knowing what we all know now it comes as no surprise that the road is still closed half a year later.

Covid restrictions – no vehicular access along the Waterfront.

Plenty of Fresh Air

Oh dear, what is there to say today? There has been so much bad news and less and less consensus. Is there any light at the end of the tunnel? It appears that all hope is being pinned on the production of an effective vaccine.

Let’s leave the Covid Crisis behind and head off for an exhilarating, bracing walk along the North Sea at Sizewell. There is plenty of cool, fresh air and not many people on this stretch of the Suffolk coast in mid October.

Sizewell Beach with Dunwich Heath in the distance.

After Shingle Street, Sizewell, is my next favourite Suffolk beach. I have been coming here since I was a child. Over the years the small fishing village has been put on the country’s map as a site for nuclear power stations. Initially, supplying electricity for the National Grid from the big old Magnox nuclear power station commissioned in 1966, and then the more elegant (?), pressurised water reactor version, commissioned in 1995.

Nuclear power stations. Magnox to the left and pressurised water to the right.

I have always thought it a slightly, eerie place and you would never guess that its next door neighbour is the glorious RSPB’s Minsmere Nature Reserve. The walk from Sizewell along to Dunwich Heath passes along the edge of the Reserve’s wetlands and is a short section of the 60 mile Felixstowe to Lowestoft Suffolk Coast Path.

Saved from the rain

On Tuesday I saw that the weather forecasters were telling us to expect the arrival of autumn proper. This was code for prepare for a noticeable drop in temperatures accompanied by wind and rain.

Dahlia ‘Blue Bayou’ – Mother Nature (with a helping hand from the plant breeders) offering a fuchsia pink with strong yellow softened with dark red.

Just as the light was fading, I grabbed my secateurs and nipped out into the backyard to cut any blooms that still looked half decent.

Sunflowers in their full glory as the paler pink cosmos is already shrivelled.

I cut dahlias, cosmos and sunflowers. It was more in error than by design I had planted three sunflower seedlings six weeks later than the main sowing and they only started blooming last week.

And, the dark pink cosmos has been very late this year getting into its stride. With the bright yellow sunflowers and the deep fuchsia pink of the cosmos I didn’t think I’d be able to make a tolerable arrangement, but it turned out that the dark red dahlias saved the day.

What a difference a backdrop makes? I prefer the black to the more contemporary choice for floral images which, I have recently noticed, is grey.

Leiston Abbey Ruins

After living here in Suffolk at various times of my life and frequently visiting the county for over fifty years, I finally got round to making a trip to see Leiston Abbey. And, it was well worth the effort.

An arch, part of the South Transept of the Abbey Church, with the Lady Chapel in the background.

Most of what we see today is the remains of the 14th-century abbey of Premonstratensian canons. Premonstratensian canons, also known as the White Canons, was an order founded in 1120 by St Norbert of Xanten at Premontre in Picardy, France.

Main window arch of the North Transept.

According to English Heritage, Leiston Abbey is among Suffolk’s most impressive monastic ruins retaining some spectacular architectural features.

The remains of the Chancel of the Abbey Church.

The abbey church was built in the form of the cross with two chapels on either side of the chancel. The small, roofed chapel we today is the Lady Chapel and is occasionally used for services.

Looking across to the walls of the church’s tower.

As you can see from the photographs it is mostly constructed of flint with fine examples of knapped flint, which is known as flint flushwork. Naturally occurring stone in Suffolk is in short supply and it appears that some of the stonework of this church, for example the arches, was constructed from re-used stone from the Order’s earlier abbey buildings at Minsmere. The original abbey was founded in 1182 by Ranulf de Glanville (Lord Chief Justice to King Henry II), and was built on an island in the Minsmere marshes nearer the coast. In 1363, the monastery was relocated two miles further from the coast to the higher ground of the Leiston site.

Area of another chapel on the south side of the chancel looking across to the cloisters and refectory.

With the Dissolution of the Monasteries in the 1530s, as one of the smaller houses in the country, Leiston was among the first wave surrendered to the king, then gifted to the dukes of Suffolk. But, even for a small house the commissioners inventory showed there were silver and copper candlesticks and an altar of carved alabaster.

Across the cloisters to Georgian farmhouse with renovations and additions made in the 1920s.

Dissolution might have been the beginning of the end of the abbey as a monastery, but part of the site became a farmhouse and eventually in 1928 the abbey ruins and farm were bought by Ellen Wrightson and used as a religious retreat until her death in 1946.

The Georgian farmhouse clearly incorporating walls of the original nave.

In 1977 the Pro Corda Trust, the National School for Young Chamber Music Players, a charity running chamber music courses for children, bought Leiston Abbey. It is pleasing that there is an arrangement with English Heritage for the care of the ruins and that free, public access is allowed.

Growing towards the light

It might be August, just, but it looks as if the weather has decided that that’s it for this summer. I suppose we can still hope for a few bright and balmy days in early autumn.

As a child when we used to come to Suffolk for our family holidays the neighbouring back garden was full of one type of flower – hollyhocks. The entirety of their little plot was hollyhocks. I suspect now that they were mostly self-seeded as it was an open area of free-draining soil and hollyhocks seem to do well in our part of the country. Ever since then hollyhocks have been in my top ten of favourite flowers. Wherever I have been gardening I have tried to squeeze in a few of these essential, cottage garden beauties.

This year I have had pink, white and a very dark, dark red and they have all managed to flower. It is just as well that I took a moment to get some photos of these naturally tall plants before Storm Francis blew in.

Hollyhocks aren’t the only tall flowering plants I’ve grown in my backyard this year. As usual I have grown some cosmos from seed. The packet for this pink variety definitely said ‘dwarf’, but they have grown to over five feet tall, searching for the light. I do think they would have started blooming much earlier and remained dwarf if they had full sunlight all day. As you can see from the almost ‘ethereal’ photo above, the plants only get full sunlight in intermittent bursts. Obviously, this has not been enough and the plants have become etiolated.

At least most of the pink cosmos eventually flowered, but then Storm Francis decided to take down a few plants pulling over the pots at the same time. Luckily, and surprisingly no pots were broken and who doesn’t appreciate having plenty of cut flowers to bring indoors.

Shingle Street Escape

The weather may have been very grey and trying to rain most of the time, but it was glorious to be out on the coast and not in lockdown. It is the first drive out of Ipswich I’ve made for over four months.

Sort of beachwear for July????

Of course, we know Coastal Suffolk well and the wind is rarely absent and even in July you sometimes needs a leather coat.

The mouth of the River Alde.

I have been coming to Shingle Street since I was six years old and each time I visit I am surprised at how little it changes. However, it is a long time since I can remember arriving at low-tide and seeing the treacherous shingle bar at the mouth of the River Alde.

Muddy areas were revealed as the tide receded.

Today, as we were walking down towards the shoreline I realised the extent the sea rises and the stormy waves travel during a winter high tide. When I was a teenager I used to imagine living in one of the cottages of this delightful seaside terrace, but now with more and more shocking news about the Climate Crisis I would be too nervous to live so close to the North Sea.

For the time being the sea kale and other wildflowers continue to bloom and seed and partially stabilise this low-lying, marshy coastline and we can enjoy a refreshing walk along the beach.

Some of the tough sea kale (Crambe maritime) was in flower and some had already gone over.

Remember When

Remember when a saunter down the Strand meant dodging the crowds

and hurrying across to the station meant sidestepping day-trippers.

Remember when tourists clambered onto repurposed Routemasters

and taxis queued across Westminster Bridge.

Remember when cruise ships docked at Liverpool appearing to dwarf the Liver Building

and flying out of Heathrow was being one in 78 million (per year).

But, most of all, remember when spending sunny days with visiting family was just . . . . quietly pleasurable and unremarkable.

The Unbearable Emptiness of Lockdown

I was going to write about my experience of walking from the Waterfront to the Town Centre on a ‘busy’ Friday lunchtime in Ipswich, but I think on this occasion the pictures speak for themselves.

The Hold – on hold
Shoppers’ car park
Busy Buttermarket
Tree parking
A delivery

Thank You

We are most definitely living through strange times. Or, perhaps, not if you look back across the centuries. Maybe it’s just our 21st-century, developed-world mode of living that has encouraged us to become more and more over-confident in the abilities of medical science and technology to overcome any ‘surprise’ new disease. Worryingly, according to the well-informed Bill Gates, it is unlikely that an effective vaccination will be widely available for at least 18 months.

Drawing out text is certainly not one of my talents!

And, only today all over the news (here in the UK) there have been discussions that it may well become commonplace when out and about in public to wear face masks in the same way that it is the accepted norm in countries like Japan.

At present, for most of us, following the lockdown rules and helping those we can in our immediate ‘socially distancing’ circle is the best we can do. And, of course, we can also thank those professional NHS staff, care home workers and all those employed turning up to perform essential roles. I don’t know if you have seen, but various artists have also shown their thanks by offering designs for those stuck at home to colour-in or adapt.

There was this design on the Arts page of the BBC website from Sir Michael Craig-Martin.

Then I saw that Damien Hirst had also produced a design. This too is available to download from his website.

But naturally I was always going to be doing my own version.

Typography’s a bit wobbly, but I think you get the idea.

I have painted my thanks and I’ve hung it my bay window. I may not be a famous artist and this contribution may not be as big as some of the banners I’ve seen round Ipswich, but it’s certainly bright and cheerful .

It’s sort of a rainbow . . . there’s lots of flowers . . . and if you look very closely there is one butterfly (honestly).

Of course at the moment there’s not much vehicular traffic, but my road has become part of a popular route for joggers, cyclists, dog-walkers and people strolling through for their one hour of exercise in the sunshine. Quite a few of our local residents have tried to lift the somewhat gloomy air by filling their windows with rainbows and teddy bears (the bears are there for those on the Bear Hunt!) and somebody has even painted a full-colour, gloss paint rainbow across the road. Strange times indeed.

‘Queen of the Carbs’ Makes a Comeback during an Extra-ordinary Easter

It is a long time since I’ve posted a ‘food/baking’ piece. It isn’t that I don’t do any cooking or baking these days, but more that food doesn’t have much to do with my creative work.

Obviously, blog posts about my professional work show the development and process of painting a silk scarf. Posts about art, sculpture, architectural details and East Anglia’s cultural heritage in general, indicate from where I find much of my inspiration. Then there are my flower and garden posts full of colourful floral arrangements as if you were in any doubt where quite a few of my colour combinations come from.

Then there is the odd time I write a review of a play or a film I’ve seen because I just can’t help myself despite reviews having nothing to do with painting silk. These reviews are the result of a momentary glitch when my grumpy alter ego manages to slip the leash.

But this has been a very strange and disconcerting Easter and like everybody else I have been indoors, a lot, and I found FLOUR in my store cupboard. That’s a selection of opened, half-used bags of plain, self-raising, strong, wholemeal, seeded, rye and spelt. So I’ve had a bake up.

Panini, scones and biscotti.
  • Plain flour – that will be some almond biscotti made with two-thirds white to one-third muscovado sugar.
  • Self-raising flour – some Mary Berry scones perhaps.
  • Strong flour – easy, naturally, hot cross buns!
Yes, fresh yeast. It was Hobson’s choice so not quite as fresh as it could have been.

Fortunately, along with the strong flour I also had yeast, eggs, butter and the dried fruit and spices needed for hot cross buns. Another stroke of luck was finding at the back of the cupboard the whole citrus peel leftover from my three attempts at making panettone. My first effort was made for last Christmas. Then I had another go in January and then another in February.

Anyway, let’s forget Christmas and get back to Easter! Compared to panettone hot cross buns are easy. Mix up the dough, give it a good knead and the only thing you have to remember is that as this is an enriched dough, it’s a good hour and a half for the first prove rather than the usual hour.

Dough mixed and kneaded, then after first prove shaped into buns for second prove complete with their ‘runny’ crosses – baking in the time of Covid.

This year the only issue I had was that the flour paste for the crosses was too runny and whereas I would normally keep ladling in the flour to make it thicker, with the current flour shortages, runny it stayed.

No family visiting from the depths of the West Country or even down from London this Easter holidays, but hot cross buns freeze well and will be a welcome carb treat with the morning coffee for the next . . . . . three weeks of lockdown.