WALKING WRONG

PHOTO BY CAROLINE GANNON

Sometimes it seems to me that people only buy weekend newspapers so they can be told that they’re doing things wrong.  They’re eating wrong, drinking wrong, sleeping wrong, dating wrong, bringing up their children wrong, and so on.   For me this  reached new heights of annoyance in Saturday’s Times, in an article by Lucy Cavendish, in which told us that most people are walking wrong too.

This is Lucy Cavendish

She was trying to improve her memory by one method or another (and walking was just one of them).  Of course I’m well used to being told that I walk too slowly.  Briskness is the new healthy walking orthodoxy, but you know, I’m inclined to walk at whatever damn speed I want. 

 

 Cavendish talked to one Susan Saunders who’s a Health Coach (yep that’s a job) who suggested that Cavendish could ‘maximise the benefits’ of her walking by combining it with mindfulness.  More than that, apparently researchers at UCL have ‘found a link between preserving cognition and undertaking self-reflection.’  The article then explained what self-reflection is for the benefit of slack-jawed readers who might be new to the idea of introspection.

 

I found the whole thing so annoying that I went for a dawdle while thinking unintrospectively about Helena Bonham Carter and Harry Styles.  I suspect they both walk wrong.

 

 

PEDESTRIAN ANTHROPOLOGY

  

I was first aware of Harry Smith as an avant-garde filmmaker.

 

 

Only later did I discover he’d put together the 3 volumes of the Anthology of American Folk Music which is a thing of great beauty and wonder.

 

These days when people describe Harry Smith they have to add that he was also a painter, occultist, anthropologist, and collector of many things, not least paper planes.  Like this:

 

This is the cover of a book titled Paper Airplanes: The Collections of Harry Smith: Catalogue Raisonné, Volume I.  I just bought it.  It too is a thing of beauty and wonder.

 

I can’t swear that Harry Smith was much of a walker per se, though one way or another he certainly spent time on the streets of New York, where he picked up and collected paper airplanes: the perfect found object.

 

If the book’s introduction is to believed, and with Harry Smith very few things are to be believed completely, there was a time, say late 60s to early 80s, when you couldn’t walk the streets on Manhattan without seeing a paper plane on the ground, sometimes even in the air.

Smith would swoop down, pick it up, then annotate it with the time and place he found it, just like a ‘proper’ anthropologist.

 

Smith’s friend William Breeze is quoted in the introduction as saying,

‘He and I discussed it more than once as we usually met for dinner and had a trip to the Strand on Fridays …  and walked the neighborhood.  He found several planes and would immediately stop to fish out a pencil and make notes on it. As I recall he was interested in in the changes in their morphology over the years, with some plane designs disappearing and then mysteriously reappearing years later.’

 

In due course the planes went into storage. Some of them at one time were at the Smithsonian, now 251 of them, all the ones in the book, are at the Anthology Film Archives. Very possibly there are a lot more elsewhere.

 

Many things about this collection surprise me.  I think I’m a pretty good scavenger and observer of street detritus, but I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a paper plane lying in the street.  But times do change. I remember when I used to see quite a few playing cards lying around in the street and for a while I picked them up thinking I’m do something or other with them, but in the end I never got round to it.

 

Is it possible that people have got more conscientious about littering, and now they take their paper planes and their playing cards home with them or put them in a bin?  If this is the case, then on balance I suppose it’s a good thing, but it’s a real disadvantage for the street anthropologist.

FROM THE ASHES

I sometimes worry that my enjoyment of walking in gardens is just another sign of having one foot in the grave, and of course I want to seem preternaturally youthful. 

However I (temporarily) overcame my worries last week as I wandered into The Phoenix Garden, a green space and community garden, tucked in between the dwindling number of bookshops of Charing Cross Road, the similarly dwindling guitar shops of Denmark Street, and right by the Elms Lesters Painting rooms in Flitcroft Street (now no longer painting rooms).

 

The Phoenix Garden is great, not big, though it seems to have expanded since I was last there.  It’s a work in progress and at present parts of it are wonderfully chaotic, and although it’s not a place for a long walk, it’s a great place to wander around.

 

And what really appealed: the things that the gardeners grow there are pretty much the same things I try to grow in my own humble patch: acanthus, euphorbia, cardoon:

and above all echiums, though it must be said that The Phoenix Garden has rather more success with echiums than I do:

Photo: Caroline Gannon

Given the cold it wasn’t a place to stay for too long and I certainly didn’t want to hang around sitting on a bench, though somebody else apparently had done, and then left behind, abandoned or lost, a couple of books.

 

The one on the right was a rather fine notebook containing various not very legible pencil notes about art and film. In other circumstance I’d probably have taken it away with me as an acquisition for the Nicholsonian Institution but I was already quite laden and in any case the book was soaking wet.  I left it for a more or less discerning walker/collector/scavenger.

TOTTERING IN TOTTENHAM COURT ROAD

 I’ve been walking in London, nothing too fancy.  It was tiring but I was tired BY London, not tired OF London, a distinction Dr. Johnson would surely appreciate.

 

I used to live and work in the area and I always find myself there any time I'm in Central London. 

 

Of course large parts of Tottenham Court Road and Charing Cross Road are barely recognizable from even just a few years ago, though fortunately those twin Brutalist peaks of the St Giles Hotel and Centre Point are still in business.

 

There was this wonderful bit of idiocy on a building site just north of the St Giles.

 

You know I suspect those lads up on that gantry have never so much as skimmed Derrida’s Writing and Difference. This is the fun-loving man himself, walking:

 

 

Much as I like the Tottenham Court Road/Charing Cross Road nexus, I’m not sure I’d take anybody there to try to impress them with the wonders of London, but as I was standing on the corner waiting to cross Oxford Street I saw and overheard two young women, teenagers I suppose, maybe out oft owners  though they didn’t look like innocents, and one of them was saying to the other, ‘I’ve never been to this part of London.  It’s really NICE!’

 

This pleased me enormously.

I'm not in the business of giving advice to tourists but if I were I'd have suggested they pop up to Whifield Gardens, now supposedly improved as part of the 'greening' of Tottenham Court Road.  I'd have suggested they savour the fact that this used to be a graveyard associated with grave robbing, and very close to the spot where the last V2 fell on London.

It looks like this:

STAND UP WALKING

Steven Wright is a very funny man. I don't know how much of a walker he is.

I’m aware of him chiefly as a deadpan stand up comedian but he’s also an actor, writer, and film producer.  The humour is usually verbal, with a lot of puns, some philosophy, and a shedload of absurdity. To be honest I don’t know if he writes all his own stand up material but he’s all over the internet credited with the line  ‘Everywhere is walking distance if you have got the time.’

 

I think he’s wrong about this.  The Americas aren’t walking distance from, say, London because you’d have to walk over or under the Atlantic Ocean, although admittedly there is some suggestion that this is what Buster Keaton does in The Railrodder – jumping into the Thames and emerging on the coast of Canada.

Steven Wright does have another line about walking which I think is much better than that first one

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