Depictions and Colonialism

 

The first exhibit at the Museo de America is a collection of drawings and renderings from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries that purportedly depict what people who lived in South America looked like to Europeans. Various depictions are grotesque and disturbing; others are comical and challenges us to wonder if the depictions were believed by Europeans who saw them. European conquerors went out into the world and found people who were different from them and believed themselves superior. Drawings and accounts exaggerated customs, beliefs, and practices. In some instances, especially in tropical regions, they found people who wore very little clothing, which was weather appropriate. But concepts like nakedness, sin, and guilt did not always translate in the same way across cultures.

If you think local people are not quite human, it removes the psychological barrier to harm or murder them. Renderings and information, even if erroneous, helped to justify some of these cognitive barriers. Hence, the interaction with Inca or Aztec, or other indigenous cultures, did not go well (to say the least). The land, people, and riches of South America were open for discovery, conquest, and appropriation. It is easy to dismiss what happened in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries as a byproduct of an ancient age. Yet, into the twentieth century the exoticization of South America continued. Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Lost World, published in 1912, led the reader to believe that there were prehistoric and fantastical creatures that inhabited the far reaches of the Amazon basin. The British explorers who discover the “lost world,” tout their racial superiority and greater intelligence throughout the novel, justifying some of the more provocative actions. 

Headless of Guyana (published Nuremberg, 1599)

The Museo de America contains a collection of artifacts primarily from the colonial period. Away from the center of Madrid, it is not one of the more popular museums in the capital. Many museums have begun to return cultural items to former colonies, and some of my students suggested that the Museo de America should do the same. A nice thought, I contend, but so many indigenous peoples have been so thoroughly decimated, I reply to the students, “to whom do you return these items to?” 

The New World (1621)

At the Museo Nacional del Prado

 

The quote, “The past is a foreign country. They do things differently there,”[1] came to mind while doing an in-depth examination of the work of Hieronymos Bosch (c.1450-1516), better known as Bosch [El Boscho].  His work, The Garden of Earthly Delights triptych (c.1490-1500), is other worldly; something that is reminiscent of a science fiction rendering. At first glance, one might even consider it bordering on pornography, yet the goal of work was to warn parishioners away from such behaviors.

As the museum’s explanation notes, “The artist derived his inspiration from medieval visual culture: devils, monsters, fantastical beasts, and anthropological forms.” Yet the display goes on to note it is difficult for us to understand, or appreciate, the full impact of the work and its meaning. The ability to decipher the images have been lost, according to the museum.

The three scenes of the triptych focus on the theme of sin. On the left: Adam and Eve are depicted in the Garden of Eden. In the center panel, Bosch depicts the false paradise given over to lust where people engage in all manner of pleasurable activities that will lead to an ultimate punishment. On the right, is the depiction of God’s punishment for sin is hell. Principal message of the triptych is “the fragile and transient nature of happiness and the enjoyment of those sinful pleasures.”[2] As I was staring, trying to process the images of Bosch, I was reminded of Orwell contention that the images of afterlife paradise changes over time depending on the hardships of the day, Hence, in a society where there is a lack of food, heaven is depicted as place where there is a never ending banquet.

In the same room at the Prado, The Haywain Triptych (1512-1515) by Bosch is similar. It does not have the same number of people jostling to inspect the Garden of Earthly Delights, but has the same theme, with slightly less audacious renderings. I found it helpful in understanding both works. The explanation provided by the museum notes, “[The triptych] illustrates the verse from Isaiah, “All flesh is like the grass. All its glory is like the flower of the fields”[3] Furthermore, the work recalls the Netherlandish proverb, “The world is a Haywain [Haywagon], and each man plucks from it what he can.”

---

[1] Attributed to L.P. Hartley, The Go-Between.
[2] When closed the painting represents the third day of creation of the world in grisaille.
[3] Isaiah 40:6.

Antonio Gaudi 1852-1926

 

Gaudi was a famed architect and a great exponent of Catalan Modernism and today, his houses and works are destinations for many travelers to Barcelona. His work has come to symbolize what make Catalonia different from the rest of Spain. Early in his career, he was influenced by the neo-gothic movement. His later work, however, reflected his love of nature and his religious beliefs. Seven of his designs have been designated UNESCO World Heritage sites.

Gaudi died after being struck by a streetcar in 1926, while undertaking his most famous and ambitious project, the Basilica La Sagrada Familia.

Casa Vicens (1883-1888) 

Casa Batlló (1904-1906) 

Casa Milà (1906-1910) often referred to as La Pedera

La Sagrada Familia (1915-2026) Completion of the Basilica is slated to be completed in time to coincide with the one hundredth anniversary of Gaudi’s death 

Pastisseria Ideal

 

Located on La Vila de Gràcia in Barcelona, walking into the café is to observe the intimate life of a small portion of Gràcia. I stopped in for a simple breakfast at 9:30, ordered my café americano and two croissants in my moderately passable Spanish, which was understood even if it was not Catalan.

Dating from 1919, the café is a long narrow space with a bar that runs its entire length, save for a small room at the back where four small tables were occupied by regulars. On the walls that hold up the bar, hooks allow patrons to hang their hats or purses, which are still regularly used.  Many mirrors that line the walls, the display shelves and virtually everywhere else gives the café an appearance of being much bigger than it is. 

The clientele is predominantly older people, but not exclusively. Since I was there rather late for breakfast, perhaps this was just a function of timing. The back room seemed informally reserved for regulars. I would occasionally take furtive glances to see what was going on. Most of the conversation took place in Catalan, so I am only catching a few words and had a general sense of the topic. One elderly woman sat and did a puzzle in the newspaper, and occasionally made comments into the more general conversation of the room. Meanwhile, a woman, sipping an expresso, sat at the bar, and listened attentively to a man who had finished his coffee long ago, talk about his recent travels. She would occasionally interject or ask a question, nodding knowingly about his adventures.

Marple

 

Leaving the train in Marple station, a light rain, and an even more ominous sky, suggested that it was not going to be a great day for photographs. Reaching into my bag for a raincoat for the half mile walk to my B&B for the night, I considered my options. First, after dropping my luggage off, I could make my way into town, find a coffee shop, and wait for opportune periods, when the rain let up, for exploration and walks. After checking in and starting back out for the walk into town, two women who had just checked out offered me a ride into town because of the rain. They were on their way to see one’s son, and thought it was interesting that I had come to walk. It was nice of them to offer the ride, a brave gesture to offer a lone man a ride. Perhaps the driver lost her nerve, or that she was a nervous driver, when she suggested I get out near the canal because she was concerned about driving into the town center. The rain had become heavier in the meantime, and there was no shelter near the canal. Luckily, I was on Stockport Road, a primary thoroughfare and within ten minutes I found a Costa coffee shop to decamp, have an americano, and wait for a break in the rain.

Walking a canal in Europe or North America is immersive into nature and a location’s history from roughly two hundred years ago. Often, we believe that the world two centuries ago was a simpler time and life was both pastoral and better. Likewise, we tend to believe that we are smarter than those who proceeded us by a couple of centuries. While some of their beliefs may seem strange today, perhaps this is a source of discontent. But the notion that times were simpler and that we are smarter are not true. Life in the early nineteenth the century was brutal, and full of squalor. Look no further than the writings of Charles Dickens, Elizabeth Gaskell, and Thomas Malthus. 

Marple Aqueduct from below

Equally intriguing is the supposition that we today are smarter than our predecessors. Perhaps this is because of our access to instant information. The powerful computer that many of us carry around in our pockets gives us a sense that we are smart. Consider, however, the Marple Aqueduct, constructed in the 1790s, without the benefit of computers or heavy equipment, a hundred feet above the River Goyt. Looking at the aqueduct and the nearby railroad bridge, I am reminded of what I do not know. The knowledge and skill required for such an undertaking is immense, something that those who use these places but do not think about. The train ride from Manchester to New Mill traversed the railroad bridge and allowed for a glimpse of the aqueduct. Flying along at 60 miles an hour, or so, I suspect that most people never considered that the 120-year-old bridge was what kept the train from plummeting into the valley below. 

Located about a mile north of town on the canal, the aqueduct is a restored treasure, carrying the water of the Peak Forest Canal across the river valley. The local mills and factories depended on the canals for transporting their products around the country and out to the ports. Walking along the canals, many decades after they ceased commercial operations, I cannot but help but romanticize that portion of nineteenth century transportation. While the pollution and working conditions of the mills were awful, transporting goods around the country via canals evokes a pastoral setting, manure from the donkeys aside. The relentless deadlines faced by semi-tractor trailers (lorries) and the intimidating driving on the same highways feels manic. 

Half a dozen eggs for £1.50 

While the aqueduct may attract the attention, part of the allure of canal walks is to see where people live juxtaposed with the flowers and animals that inhabit the canal. Some people sell excess eggs, others nurture the aquatic birds, while still others develop intricate and beautiful gardens that benefit the pollinators. Along British canals in particular, the romance of living and exploring on a narrow canal boat intrigues many. Walking or riding along the canals allows time to observe, contemplate, and explore. 

Moorhen snacking on a fish

The Red-tailed Bumblebee

 

The smaller the object, the less I notice the differences. It is easy to identify how churches in Europe are different from those in north America; or, that automobiles drive on the opposite of the road sometimes. I suppose to those who do not pay attention to birds, many differences will go unnoticed as well. But when it comes toto insects, small creatures that one sometimes only catches a fleeting glance when flying or darting in our preferential vision, how they might be substantially different can escape me.

Reading about one of the great pollinators of Europe, the red-tailed bumblebee, I was reminded again how much we humans depend on other animals for our wellbeing. Bees are fascinating creatures. As a child, they were an object of menace; a small insect that generated fear because of their ability to sting. As an adult, armed with the knowledge that one in three bites of our food depends upon the pollination performed by bees, I am fascinated with something that is rarely considered. The declining populations of insects has worrying impacts for humans. A random information poster in a small urban park invited me to take a closer look at bumblebees in Ireland and Britain. At first glance, from a distance, bees looked like those I know. But the red bum, cute as it is, reminds that there is great diversity even when we do not see it.

Kinder Trespass Trails

 

When reading and researching about the right to roam and access to nature, I came across the story of the Mass Trespass at Kinder Scout. What happened during the trespass is not generally debated; however, the effects are. Regardless if it was a direct effect, many today will credit the trespass with laying the groundwork for securing access to nature and footpaths for everyone in Britain. It is also argued that the trespass created the impetus for the creation of the National Park Act in 1949, as well as the Countryside and Right of Way Act (CROW Act) of 2000.

On Sunday, 24 April 1932, a group of young factory workers, primarily from Manchester made their way to the small village of Hayfield to asset a right to walk on the high moorlands. Organized by the Communist Party, about 400 assembled at a quarry in prelude to a mass civil disobedience event against wealthy landowners who denied access to the moorland in favor grouse hunting. The previous Sunday, activists distributed leaflets urging other ramblers to “take action to open up the fine country at present denied to us.” Police officers were called upon to warn away the potential trespassers to no avail.

At the appointed time, the rebel ramblers set off, singing the “Red Flag” and the “International” during their walk according to the Manchester Guardian. When gamekeepers confronted the ramblers, scuffles and fights broke out. Yet, restraint on both sides prevented further disturbances. Once on the moorland, accounts note that the ramblers adhered scrupulously to path. In what today might sound quaint, the group stopped for tea and a hat was passed to take up a collection to help defray the cost for anyone who would be fined. Eventually, as the group reentered Hayfield, police arrested six leaders, including Benny Rothman, sentencing five of the trespassers to six months in prison. The substantial, what might be considered excessive, judgment led to greater sympathy in the court of public opinion.

The Kinder Trespass was not the first time Hayfield was at the center of debate over access to footpaths and nature. In 1897, the Peak District and North Counties Footpath Society secured permanent access to what was popularly known as the Snake Inn Footpath from Hayfield to Glossop. Instead of the confrontation tactics that would be used three decades later, the Society, which was created for purpose a few years earlier, used consultations and negotiations to secure the right of passage. A sign erected in 1906, on the edge of Hayfield, commemorates the late nineteenth century success. The Peaks and Northern Footpath Society continues to exist as a voluntary organization actively monitoring, protecting, and improving footpaths in the region. They organize hikes and help maintain trails, even prodding local councils to provide maintenance so that people can walk the trails.

Access to nature and the right to roam were severely curtailed by a series of legislative acts of Parliament from the mid-eighteenth century through the mid-nineteenth century, collectively known as the Enclosures. With each of the acts, roughly 4000 in total, Parliament sought to rationalize British agricultural lands by designating publicly owned land, used collectively by peasants, private property to be owned and maintained by a single person. The Enclosures were meant to make farming in Britain more efficient by creating larger tracks of land, rather than a patchwork of tracks, and to establish a hierarchical decision-making process. Before the enclosures, decisions on what and when to plant were made collectively, hence everyone had a say and negotiations could take some time and were not particularly efficient. Effectively, the parliamentary acts displaced peasants from the land, denying them not only the opportunity to grow crops on their own, but also the right to gather food, such as berries and mushrooms, and firewood, the principal energy source of the day, from the forest. Instead, the land became private, usually in the hands of a single person, who could reserve land for their own use. Hence, landowners would use the lands that were enclosed for hunting and/or recreation.

 

Kinder Lodge, Hayfield

Today, Hayfield embraces the legacy of the 1932 Kinder Trespass. Explanation waysides and historical markers dot the village. At the site of the former train station, where many factory workers from Manchester and other industrial towns would have alighted to enjoy the moorlands, the region’s walking trails are enumerated and explained. During the summer months of the 1920s and 1930s, upwards of 10,000 people would descend on the village for recreation and fresh air. Since the closure of the train station in 1970, buses serve as the primary public transportation and the bus stop is located where those workers and their families would have started and finished their days.

The history of Hayfield stretches back two thousand years, as the Roman road between Buxton and Glossop ran through the village. Although a refuge for working class people, Hayfield once had a woolen factory of its own in the eighteenth century, which brought it a modicum of prosperity. Part of the charm of the village is its old-world feel. 

Hayfield with the store on the right 

Library

The Old Hayfield Grammar School was founded in 1604 and the school building (pictured) was constructed in 1719. 

Charming as it is, Hayfield can be rather limited to the traveler without an automobile. The post-pandemic contraction of labor meant that, like many places in Europe and North America, there were not enough workers to keep many establishments open. On a Monday evening, after a full day of walking and exploring, I found that none of the restaurants or pubs in the village was serving food. I had the choice of taking the bus, or walking, to New Mill or stopping in the village store for hummus and bread sticks. I chose the latter, reasoning that breakfast would come soon enough.

When traveling, the local library is one of my preferred destinations. It is a place where one can orient oneself and learn a little bit about the local area. Given the history of Hayfield, I assumed that the local history section would have some nuggets of information to inspire more investigations and explorations. But the library, tidy and efficient as it was, had rather limited holdings and focused primarily on meeting the borrowing needs of locals rather than serving as a node of information. There was no local history room or section. The information posted around town on information boards for tourists were more than what was contained in the library. 

Sign turn off to Snake Inn Trail

Phonebooth at the Trespass Cottage

Kinder Road

The plaque commemorating the events of 1932 at Bowden Bridge Car Park, erected in 1982 on the fiftieth anniversary

The reservoir, constructed in 1912 

The bridge and footpath that leads to Kinder Scout

The peak of Kinder Scout on the left 

Local family

Shooting Cabin

Meadow Pipit

Old signpost, in the middle of the moor, that is very helpful in navigating the paths

Lambs frolicking on the Snake Inn Path

Twenty trees, a copse in the field along the Snake Inn path - on guidebook noted that there are only nineteen trees

The gate to the highland

Descending back into Hayfield

The historical marker on Kinder Road where Snake Inn Path leads to trail. It is also marks the approximate place where the trespassers were arrested in 1932