Albion Archives - Museum of Photocopies

Doggerland Blues #4

What does the original matter when you’ve got a copy that cost more? It’s much more fun to be in Doggerland, Doggerland under Sea, where nothing ever matters, to you or to me.

Doggerland #12 — Digital photo of a black and white photocopy (on 200gsm coloured paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland #13 — Digital photo of a black and white photocopy (on 200gsm coloured paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland #14 — Digital photo of a black and white photocopy (on 200gsm coloured paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland Blues #3

Between the worlds of Post Card and Pod Cast lies a new map of hell. It’s much more fun to be in Doggerland, Doggerland under Sea, where nothing ever matters, to you or to me.

Doggerland #9 — Digital photo of a black and white photocopy (on 200gsm paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland #10 — Digital photo of a black and white photocopy (on 200gsm paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland #11 — Digital photo of a black and white photocopy (on 200gsm paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland Blues #2

Away from the internet, away from the affray, away from the melting Liquid Crystal Display. It’s much more fun to be in Doggerland, Doggerland under Sea, where nothing ever matters, to you or to me.

Doggerland #6 — Digital photo of a black and white photocopy (on 200gsm paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland #7 — Digital photo of a black and white photocopy (on 200gsm paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland #8 — Digital photo of a black and white photocopy (on 200gsm paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

God, the art world bores me. Being an artist? You might as well be an astronaut. It’s all so serious and full of important things to do. It’s much more fun to be in Doggerland, Doggerland under Sea, where nothing ever matters, to you or to me.

Digital photo of a colour photocopy (on 200gsm paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The colours are courtesy of pencil, coloured inks and water-based colour pencils. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland #2 — Digital photo of a colour photocopy (on 200gsm paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The colours are courtesy of pencil, coloured inks and water-based colour pencils. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland #3 — Digital photo of a colour photocopy (on 200gsm paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The colours are courtesy of pencil, coloured inks and water-based colour pencils. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Sleep Life Bedroom-Bathroom-Toilet 2

Where do we go and what do we do when we sleep? There is plenty of activity and sensations to document. And what of the space where #SleepLife happens, how do they change? This is one such document, of a space in Accrington that needs a new #SleepLife, and quietly suffered a temporary interregnum. It’s old one has ended.

Sleep Life Bedroom-Bathroom-Toilet 6 — An A4 photocopy of a pencil sketch of the Photocopier’s mother’s gardening shoes (which were moved to the bedroom from the hallway). And the wooden cabinet containing the antique cistern that heated the water for the Photocopier’s baths. The Photocopier has almost primal childhood memory of lowering himself into the bath at his parent’s house. And the attendant feeling of comfort the first few minutes of the bath gave him. Over time it became a ritual to immediately have a bath on returning to the family home. The drawing is in the Photocopier’s notebook of his nocturnal experiences whilst sleeping in his late mother’s bedroom, over Christmas and New Year 2019-20.

Sleep Life Bedroom-Bathroom-Toilet 9 — An A4 photocopy of a sketch of the Photocopier’s mother’s make up bag (a tabby cat) sat atop a sheesham wood box (containing nothing) and in frot of a small pot cat ornament fixed to the wall, above an oak chest of drawers. The notes in felt tip refer to the photocopier’s fascination with the classical motif on his mother’s jewellery boxes. The drawing is in the Photocopier’s notebook of his nocturnal experiences whilst sleeping in his late mother’s bedroom, over Christmas and New Year 2019-20.

Sleep Life Bedroom-Bathroom-Toilet 10 — An A4 photocopy of a pencil sketch of the ornaments and jewellery boxes to be found in the Photocopier’s mother’s bedroom. The swan vase was originally his aunt Marion’s (from the Bury branch of the family, long deceased) which, along with a similarly highly glazed vase depicting a highwayman, fascinated the Photocopier as a small child on trips to Bury. The pot jewellery box, with a relief showing some scene from classical myth (made in the East Midlands) were some of the longest standing items in his mother’s bedroom, being there from the early 1970s. The Photocopier had issues drawing this freehand. The drawing is in the Photocopier’s notebook of his nocturnal experiences whilst sleeping in his late mother’s bedroom, over Christmas and New Year 2019-20.

Sleep Life Bedroom-Bathroom-Toilet 4 — An A4 photocopy of a quick pencil sketch of the bathroom door (with Staffordshire porcelain handle) and a highly glazed ceramic seal from the Gema ceramic company (which the Photocopier’s mother had a soft spot for). These two elements were the first thing that somehowcame to mind when trying to focus on the nocturnal bathroom visits. The drawing is in the Photocopier’s notebook of his nocturnal experiences whilst sleeping in his late mother’s bedroom, over Christmas and New Year 2019-20.

Sleep Life Bedroom-Bathroom-Toilet #1

Sleep Life Bedroom-Bathroom-Toilet 3 — An A4 photocopy of a pencil sketch from a Polish film poster that somehow mutated into a bored – and aborted – take on TE Lawrence. One of the first drawings made after his mother’s death, the drawing is in the Photocopier’s notebook of his nocturnal experiences whilst sleeping in his late mother’s bedroom, over Christmas and New Year 2019-20.

Sleep Life Bedroom-Bathroom-Toilet 5 — An A4 photocopy of a pencil sketch of a pot ornament made by the Photocopier’s brother at infants school that was given to his mother. Indestructible and inscrutable, the glazed clay ornament – depicting a bird it according to family legend – has never left the window sill of his parents’ bedroom. The notes in pen document the time of death of the Photocopier’s mother, amongst other sensations and observations. The drawing is in the Photocopier’s notebook of his nocturnal experiences whilst sleeping in his late mother’s bedroom, over Christmas and New Year 2019-20.

Sleep Life Bedroom-Bathroom-Toilet 2 — n A4 photocopy of a quick pencil sketch of the Photocopier’s mother’s bedside table (with wood-based lamp and the Photocopier’s personal effects strewn loosely upon it) and a battered Roberts digital radio. The radio was notorious in being too loud. The Photocopier’s late mother, who was an insomniac, would play the BBC World Service at high volume throughout the night, often to everyone else’s irritation. The drawing is in the Photocopier’s notebook of his nocturnal experiences whilst sleeping in his late mother’s bedroom, over Christmas and New Year 2019-20.

Sleep Life Bedroom-Bathroom-Toilet 8 — An A4 photocopy of the Photocopier’s notes in felt tip. The photocopy that is pasted in the bottom right hand corner is from Wyndham-Lewis’s Vorticist Manifesto, “Blast” (1914). The drawing is in the Photocopier’s notebook of his nocturnal experiences whilst sleeping in his late mother’s bedroom, over Christmas and New Year 2019-20.

Sleep Life Dream Log #2

A few weeks ago the Photocopier collated some answers about the sleep life of important professionals in the music business, in the upstairs room of a Groningen pub. Some of those answers (spread over four separate posts) are to be seen here. One can only wonder; what does sleep really mean to us, during our never-ending lives?

Sleep Life Dream Log 12 — A photograph of a photocopy of a colour photocopy of a drawing. The Photocopier’s friend Charlien asked him about any recurring nightmares he may have. The Photocopier doesn’t like to think of eyes under water.

Sleep Life Dream Log 11 — A photograph of a photocopy of a form found by the photocopier in the office of WORM Rotterdam. The Photocopier asked some of his friends in the music business how they slept. Some of the answers are very revealing, some tug at the heartstrings and make The Photocopier want to illustrate their experiences, others are brief to the point of emotionally stunted. What do these answers hide, or tell? This is from a Dutchman. The makeshift questionnaire came to being when The Photocopier found a strange printed set of forms in his works copier; the fields filled with what looked liked a number of stuck keys, specifically z’s and i’s. This seemed appropriate to use in Sleep Life.

Sleep Life Dream Log 7 — A photograph of a photocopy of a photocopy of a form found in the office of WORM Rotterdam. The Photocopier asked some of his friends in the music business how they slept. Some of the answers are very revealing, some tug at the heartstrings and make The Photocopier want to illustrate their experiences, others are brief to the point of emotionally stunted. What do these answers hide, or tell? This is from a Slovenian. The makeshift questionnaire came to being when The Photocopier found a strange printed set of forms in his works copier; the fields filled with what looked liked a number of stuck keys, specifically z’s and i’s. This seemed appropriate to use in Sleep Life.

Sleep_Life_Sleep_Log_2 — A photograph of a photocopy of a photocopy of a form found in the office of WORM Rotterdam. The Photocopier asked some of his friends in the music business how they slept. Some of the answers are very revealing, some tug at the heartstrings and make The Photocopier want to illustrate their experiences, others are brief to the point of emotionally stunted. What do these answers hide, or tell? This is from a Russian. The makeshift questionnaire came to being when The Photocopier found a strange printed set of forms in his works copier; the fields filled with what looked liked a number of stuck keys, specifically z’s and i’s. This seemed appropriate to use in Sleep Life.

A photograph of a photocopy of a pencil drawing. The Photocopier once started drawing images that made him sleepy or had an inherently tiring element to them. These images – taken from various sources (the suffering of WW2 prisoners, young people being young) make him very sleepy. This particular image is a favourite of Estonian popstar Mart Avi as it reminds him of his grandfather.

Seeing Red #2

This post is the second in a series that was originally to be called a ‘Study in Scarlet’. Both titles are appropriate given where Albion finds herself in late October, 2019. Balm is given by way of some old comics that somehow passed down to the Curator by way of his father. Plus some altered photographs of West Yorkshire and pictorial catharsis.

“………………………………….It seems a humiliation
to let you go to your ships with our treasures
unfought—now you have come thus far
into our country. You must not get our gold
so softly. Points and edges must reconcile us first,
a grim war-playing, before we give you any tribute.”

A photograph of a photocopy of a children’s comic printed during the first Christmas of the Great War. The comic was the possession of the Curator’s father. If only all wars could be so simple. A salutary reminder too, that what happens in real life never gets into the press. The Curator draws a line at commenting on international negotiations.

A photograph of a photocopy on red A3 paper of a photograph of some fine arts students discussing a sculpture at St Martin’s in 1992. In an act of desperation, the Curator applied for the Art History Masters course. He never heard back from them.

A photograph of a photocopy of a children’s comic printed during the first weeks of the Great War. The comic was the possession of the Curator’s father. If only all wars could be so simple. The Curator draws a line at commenting on international negotiations.

Seeing Red #1

This post is the first in a series that was originally to be called a ‘Study in Scarlet’. Both titles are appropriate given where Albion finds herself this 20th day of October, 2019. Balm is given by way of some altered photographs of East Yorkshire and East Lancashire letter nonsense.

Hige sceal þē heardra, heorte þē cēnre,
mōd sceal þē māre, þē ūre mægen lytlað.

In a curveball that maybe typifies this topsy-turvy time, the featured image has very little to do with Albion at all. Its origins are Estonian, but its provenance is unknown.

A photograph of a photocopy on red A3 paper of a photocopy hanging on a wall (during an exhibition about England), of a photograph of a collection of roof slates in Rising Bridge, East Lancashire. The Curator took this in 1999 whilst walking with friends. The day was a wet one.

A photograph of a photocopy on red A3 paper of an amalgamation of receipts (one for a cow costume on the Westgate Road, Newcastle upon Tyne), business cards, press clippings and a pen and ink drawing by the Curator. The Curator’s life in the 1990s – and for small periods in the early 2000s was barren. He needed to pass the time somehow. If that meant a sojourn in Belgium, so be it.

A photograph of a photocopy on red A3 paper of a superimposed photocopy of a photograph of a briar hedge near Bridlington, East Yorkshire . The Curator travelled a lot in a company car in 1998. Clandestine activities such as photographing hedges was his release.

Futbol Moderne #6 – Wardrobe

In light of England’s demolition of Panama a requiem is needed for the idiocies of English football. The Photocopier’s spare wardrobe is now a shrine to those halcyon meathead days. His text below, written for an exhibition in the East of the Netherlands in 2012, now has the feeling of the Rosetta stone.

Oh, how short our time is on this planet. Try, then, to put the past in front of you whilst ensuring the future forever escapes you...

“Peter Ackroyd tells us that England’s “genius” is essentially a linear one. While Ackroyd explains this by way of Blake, Milton and Romanesque architecture, English football culture can be similarly expounded – especially in relation to “place” and the glorification of our island’s fighting forces. The linear aspect is seen through the shield wall at Hastings, the thin red line at Alma and Waterloo, Haig’s “backs to the wall” order of March 23 1918. This is mirrored in Hodgson’s reliance on 4-4-2, Milner’s legs crumpling as he basically “dug in”, ploughing down the right wing… The 10th century poem “The Battle of Maldon” could have been written for England’s knackered midfield in 2012 – “Courage must be the firmer, heart the bolder, spirit must be the greater, as our strength grows less”. Chat room comments saying Micah Richards would be “first over the top” hints that even after 100 years this idea is still with us. Place too… rows of terraces that once nestled round Ewood Park, Kennilworth Road & Main Road, evoking trench systems like Plugstreet and Givenchy: the (Spion) Kops at Hillsborough and Anfield… Pals battalions, films like Away Days evoking 1979 hoolie loyalties evoke in turn 1880s gangs like Bengal Tigers and the recruiting policies for the local regiment – the right caggy & trainers, your street, the regimental flash, that Norman short back and sides…”

Category: Albion