Accringtonia Archives - Page 5 of 8 - Museum of Photocopies

PINS – Rule Nine: Move 2 – That Which Cannot Be Altered

Things cannot be fully explained because it’s Move 2, which as the rules shown in Rule Eight state, “cannot be altered, except by Pin and Local Decision.”

In order not to alter anything we advise you to read Rule Nine. And peruse the following photocopies in case you need further inspiration.

A photograph of a collage using photocopies pencils, and pen and ink, showing a vaguely threatening situation the curator thought up. It reminds him of a regular Saturday night in Accrington in the late 1980s. The heads are those of Edward VIII. One is the bust that appeared on the standard issue postage stamps, whilst the other (the three-quarter portrait) is from a broken coronation mug, inexpertly glued together, and still in the curator’s possession. This was saved from the royalist (East Lancastrian) side of the family. Other images are the Spanish police, made suitably anonymous and given more rustic aspect; the first depiction of Britannia (modelled, suposedly, on Charles I’s mistress, Nel Gwynne); and an old acquaintance of the curator’s from his Bollenstreek Party years. This image is housed in a stamp album full of empty leaves, once used and since abandoned by the curator’s father, to house his collection of old French stamps of the various republics and empires the French have had since the first release (depicting Ceres, goddess of corn) in 1849. This is an image specially prepared for Move 2, which cannot be altered.

A photograph of a photocopy of a photograph of a page from a book on flowers and garden shrubs, in which we see a listing of some Hardy Plants. The book is called The Flower Garden, and written by T.W. Sanders, F.L.S., F.R.H.S.. This is the third edition and is printed by W.H. & L. Collingridge, (“Amateur Gardening” Office, 148 & 149 Aldersgate Street, E.C. 1). The curator suspects this is a wartime or Austerity edition, given the relatively thin paper and inexpensive bind. But it does have a number of coloured plates, including the frontispiece, which shows “A Colony of Stately Eremurl”. This is an image specially prepared for Move 2, which cannot be altered.

A photograph of a photocopy of a photograph of a page from a book on flowers and garden shrubs, called The Johnny Garden Book (Arthur Prensky, Garden Publications Ltd., 55 Russell Sq., London, W.C.1. 1950). The illustration shows raised patios and walkways, and accompanies an instructive text on how to build them. Eagle eyed viewers will note the instruction to see the previous page. This is an image specially prepared for Move 2, which cannot be altered.

PINS – Rule Eight: Moving – But Where?

Order needs an architect! Last time we were worried about orders . But a newly discovered photocopy in the archive tells us that we have moved. So: we do know we have moved. But what have we moved? And how, or where?

Here are some photocopies to help you know where you have moved. Good luck. And remember: Cliff Richard never got as far as Wakefield.

A photograph of a collage using photocopies and mixed media (urgh, hateful term), showing some places in the curator’s imagination. The images are housed in a stamp album full of empty leaves, once used and since abandoned by the curator’s father, to house his collection of old French stamps of the various republics and empires the French have had since the first release (depicting Ceres, goddess of corn) in 1849. The images – regardless of provenance (Paul Nash woodcut calendar from 2017, photos of animals in Berlin Zoo, 1930, photos and drawings by the curator) – are linked, somehow, to East Lancashire. Did you move here?

PINS – Rule Seven: Write Out More Orders

In rule seven we are told that we have three more orders to write out, that are placed on a table and then turned over. They then become moves. Even though rule six says we have two full moves, with no objectives. It’s all very complicated. Never mind. Here are some photocopies to help us on our way in writing out these orders.

A photograph edited using filters, of a specialist book from the 1950s showing the movements of a surveyor in the field, enacting various marking gestures. Can you WRITE THREE ORDERS using these prompts?

A photograph edited using filters, of a photocopy from a specialist book from the 1950s suggesting where you should place your shed. Can you WRITE THREE ORDERS using these prompts?

A photograph edited using filters, of a photocopy of a cover of a school exercise book from the 1920s, laying out a number of working recipes, handwritten in ink and amended in pencil and, later, biro. Can you WRITE THREE ORDERS using the recipes within?

Maybe we need something more outré.

A photograph edited using filters, of a photocopy of a cover of an unopened pack of A4 tissue paper, probably from the 1960s. Can you WRITE THREE ORDERS on modern tissue paper?

A photograph of a photocopy of two photographs of two residences in Felling, Tyne and Wear. The photocopier remembers both with fondness in the 1970s and 1980s. Can you WRITE THREE ORDERS by imagining the residences’ interiors?

A photograph of a photocopy of a photograph of a health centre in Accrington, Lancashire. The centre’s honours those who carried out some very bad orders indeed. Can you WRITE THREE ORDERS that are MUCH BETTER than those given at 07:20 hours, on July 1, 1916?

PINS – Rule Five: What is a Unit?

A unit can be many things, as we say in our explanation to what a unit actually is. And to be honest, we don’t really know either. Here are some images you can photocopy and use to make up units of your own, or maybe inspire you to find similar things.

A photograph of a photocopy of a photograph of the photocopier’s partner at an exhibition in a Rotterdam dock yard. The exhibition was a retrospective that also claimed it was a vision of the future. The photocopier finds these things very tiring. Can you MAKE A UNIT using this image?

A photograph of a photocopy of a photograph of an Estonian television commercial from the early 1980s. Commercials weren’t allowed to be shown in Soviet Estonia but they had to be made, by law. Apparently. Maybe this is meant as a critique of the capitalist system.The bizarre nature of this image could help you define the boundaries of what your UNIT could comprise of.

A photograph of a photocopy of a photograph of a military modelling magazine from 1972. The image shows father and son (both of a British Hussar regiment, one serving, one retired, looking at a diecast mess scene with the soldiers wearing patrols). The photocopier thinks this image is part of a huge body of socio-cultural evidence of the homegrown emotional and psychological therapies service personnel used back in the 1960s and 1970s. Without them realising. Can you MAKE A UNIT using this image?

A photograph edited using filters, of a photocopy of a book showing the cassette tape collection (classical) owned by the photocopier’s father. Such a devotion to log-keeping. All these books (there were over 50, all told) were kept under the photocopier’s father’s bed and never really used, as the cassette player broke. Can you MAKE A UNIT using these titles?

PINS – RULE FOUR: WRITE OUT ORDERS

According to the photocopy that shows the rules, we have to write out orders for each move for each unit – “without a clue to the objective.”

In writing orders and ignoring objectives, we must remember the second Golden Rule of the Buddha, or consult Old Moore’s Almanac, or at least, Shurmer’s Official Guide of Hyndburn. None of these can be found in the Yellow Pages.

MoPC-PINS-24 — A photograph edited using filters, of a photocopy of a sketch of a photograph of a book called GOD’S FOX about a snapper and boiler attendant in an institution, who would photograph elderly inmates. The photocopier remembers instututions like this in the 1970s. Can this image help you WRITE OUT ORDERS?

MoPC-PINS-25 — A photograph edited using filters, of a photocopy of a sketch of a photograph of the photocoper’s father playing football in the back yard with the photocopier, then aged 2. The photocopier remembers times like this in the 1970s. The air and light was different. Can this image help you WRITE OUT ORDERS?

MoPC-PINS-21 — A photograph edited using filters, of a photocopy of a sketch out of the photocopier’s mind. The photocopier remembers daydreams like this in the 1990s. Can this image help you WRITE OUT ORDERS?

PINS – RULE TWO: FINDING SOMEONE

Do you remember the Beginning? No? Never mind. The second rule-post says we need to find someone, to tell the C.O.s to do something. Remember what or who the C.O.s are? No? Never mind. We should find someone.

I know this is difficult. There are so many people to choose from.

MopC-PINS-19 — A photograph of a photocopy of a photograph of a cut up of a now dismantled and partly salvaged piece from the front doors of a WAR DROBE – an amalgam of old drawings, photocopies and texts that I thought I would continually add to over time. But DIDN’T. Remember – order needs an architect. Maybe these images will help you FIND SOMEONE.

MopC-PINS-18 — A photograph of a photocopy of a photograph of a cut up of a now dismantled and partly salvaged piece from the front doors of a WAR DROBE – an amalgam of old drawings, photocopies and texts that I thought I would continually add to over time. But DIDN’T. Remember – I never tell anybody anything. Maybe these images will help you FIND SOMEONE.

MopC-PINS-17 — A photograph of a photocopy of a photograph of a cut up of a now dismantled and partly salvaged piece from the front doors of a WAR DROBE – an amalgam of old drawings, photocopies and texts that I thought I would continually add to over time. But DIDN’T. Remember – Me, aged 21. Maybe these images will help you FIND SOMEONE.

Maybe find someone who knows about

Aquilégia

Alb

Agrimony

Adónis

Actǣa

Anis

Átriplex

Acontíum

Aira

Coaming

PINS – The Beginning

RULE ONE: THE BEGINNING

(AKA “The Heap of Trouble is a pile of rubble.”)

The first thing to do is to say we are at the Beginning.

For all rules, please go to The Museum Curator’s Substack.

These copies will be placed regularly, and OVER TIME. The Museum will host the elements of PINS that need no explanation, they are here for you to photocopy and use, perhaps with photocopies of your own. To make your own beginnings.

A photograph of a photocopy of a photograph from the late 1950s, maybe very early 1960s of The Curator’s mother and aunt and a family friend from Norway. They are posing in the back garden of a house near St Christopher’s High School and Moorhead High School, once Accrington Grammar School for Girls. Maybe this image will help you BEGIN PINS.

A photograph of a photocopy of a photograph from the the Libyan Desert, “acquired” from a German POW by The Curator’s great uncle, who served there in the Second World War. Yes, it’s Rommel. That is what the inscription on the back of the photo says. Maybe this image will help you BEGIN PINS.

PINS is a game for all anonymous egos, everywhere, made through repositioning and reproducing old dreams and documents.

A photograph of a photocopy of a list of orders from the original game of PINS, made by the Curator’s father. The Curator thinks his father had only really sorted these four lines of text. Maybe this can be your Beginning for PINS.

A photograph of a photocopy of a list of the various Electors of one of the imaginary continents from the original game of PINS, made by the Curator’s father. Note the focus on the mid C18th. Very important. Maybe this can be your Beginning for PINS.

A photocopy of a colour photo of an oil painting made by The Curator at the turn of the Millennium, now destroyed. This is the only surviving record. Maybe this can be your Beginning for PINS.

Clayton Orange Alternative

We must take our luck where we can. Hence a dreamlike visitation of Wrocław’s Krasnoludek in East Lancashire. Victorian streets that cling on in the gloaming, spaces where schools and factories were, pubs that made way for motorways. We need a better narrative. Myths are needed to make us feel noticed, or carefree, again.

Orange-Alternative-Clayton-1 — A photo (using iPhone 11) of a photocopy of a pencil, crayon and ink drawing of mythological happenings in Clayton-Le-Moors, East Lancashire. A Wrocław Krasnoludek, mounted on a ceremonial C17th lion, hails the future.

Orange-Alternative-Clayton-4 — A photo (using iPhone 11) of a photocopy of a pencil, crayon and ink drawing of mythological happenings in Clayton-Le-Moors, East Lancashire. An early dinosaur eats a Beatles hanger on amidst the rubble of St James’ Infants school.

Orange-Alternative-Clayton-2 — A photo (using iPhone 11) of a photocopy of a pencil, photocopy collage, crayon and ink drawing of mythological happenings in Clayton-Le-Moors, East Lancashire. The spirit of long lost pub The Load of Mischief unchained and Central American in aspect.

Orange-Alternative-Clayton-3 — A photo (using iPhone 11) of a photocopy of a pencil, crayon and ink drawing of mythological happenings in Clayton-Le-Moors, East Lancashire. Note the Edward VII postbox. And blue feathered shaman. The head is that of Sir Philip Sydney.

The Memory Vortex – Stasis #2

In the Spring of 2000, the Photocopier left England to live in a caravan in the Netherlands. He took a lot of pictures before leaving and on arriving.

Back then, photographs were taken on a camera. Some turned out well, some didn’t. Some are of a Lancashire long gone, some of a Holland just discovered but now disappeared for ever.

What remains in these photocopies of photographs is the stasis, the time that never existed, the time that floated around not asking to be captured. That’s the time that stays with us when we see it again.

An A4 photocopy of a photograph taken just before the Photocopier moved to the Netherlands. Treated with filters and adjustments on his ASUS laptop. Where do we go when everything is closed to us?

An A4 photocopy of two photographs, taken just before and long before the Photocopier moved to the Netherlands. No filters or adjustments. Memories of sitting down and staring into space. Another form of stasis.

The Memory Vortex – Stasis #1

In the Spring of 2000, the Photocopier left England to live in a caravan in the Netherlands. He took a lot of pictures before leaving and on arriving.

Back then, photographs were taken on a camera. Some turned out well, some didn’t. Some are of a Lancashire long gone, some of a Holland just discovered but now disappeared for ever.