Raikes Mausoleum

Raikes Mausoleum stands 38 ft (12 m) high and measures 67 ft (20 m) in circumference. It is quite something to encounter, nestled in the woods at the northern end of Welton Dale—a haunting presence. Built in 1818 by Robert Raikes (1765–1837), it was desecrated in the 1960s, during which a skull was stolen. The skull was later found near the Humber Estuary. Following a coroner's inquest and police investigation, the skull was returned, and the large vault beneath the main structure was permanently sealed.

David H Parker, who was born in the village in 1931, compiled a memoir about growing up there. He writes, "I will start at the northern end of the village at the top of Welton Dale where there are a few houses and a small church called Wauldby. This once belonged to the Raikes family who lived in the Manor House. Most of their ancestors are buried in a mausoleum which is in the corner of Welton Dale near the Beverley Road. It was built around 1818, with the main burial chamber under a round building which contained lead coffins on shelves around the walls. These had been broken into many years ago during the First World War, there was also a passage leading to another vault. A friend of mine, Bill Goldsmith, and I managed to get into the chamber when we were about twelve by removing a stone slab. While we were down there a shadow moved across the entrance. Bill and I fought each other to get out of there and didn't stop running until we got to Welton. It was only a tree branch moving across the setting sun, but it frightened us thoroughly."

(An extract from Welton As I Remember It: A personal recollection of life and times in the village by David H Parker).

Welton is the site of many springs, the one pictured above is near to the old watermill. Water runs through the village to the mill pond by the church, dropping down from a weir and beyond that in streams down towards the river. My composition Home Ground is inspired by the water and landscape of this place. As a child growing up there it has haunted and inspired me equally. I recall exploring wood and hedgerow, daring to stir up dark bodies of water with stones and little feet, vanquishing ghosts.

Robert Schuck: Clarinet

Composed, performed & produced © ℗ Gaynor Perry

For more, see my previous post Home Ground, May 2010.

Wauldby Chapel at the top of Welton Dale

Welton Water Mill (High Mill) conversion – 28 April 2015

Twilight Shift - Lucha Underground

 

Twilight Shift from Gaynor Perry on Vimeo.

Lucha Underground at the Resistance Gallery was, quite frankly, beyond my wildest dreams. It was a full-speed-ahead visual feast — sexy, exciting, and mad. A truly spirited evening. As a memento of the occasion, I created this TWILIGHT SHIFT using the photographs I captured that night, paired with my own composition.

For several pieces, I composed parts for Sarah Anne Robins (flute) and Robert Schuck (clarinet), whose performances bring incredible warmth to my music. I particularly admire their improvisations; they truly enhance the atmosphere of each tune. Robert's use of the Turkish Nay, in particular, adds a wonderful layer of spooky mist.

Here is more Lucha Britannia talent.

Philip Bedwell . Marnie Scarlet . Tammy Torture . Benjamin Louche . 

Garry Vanderhorne . Shiro Yoshida . Miranda Barrie . Jonathan Ross

RESISTANCE GALLERY 265 Poyser Street Bethnal Green London E2 9RF

Home Ground

I grew up in the shadow of a radioactive chimney. Capper Pass, once one of the world’s largest tin smelters and owned by Rio Tinto, operated on the outskirts of Hull between 1967 and 1991, when it was decommissioned. Some of the by-products released into the River Humber and the East Yorkshire air were toxic, carcinogenic, and radioactive. Radioactive emissions from the Capper Pass plant included Polonium-210. The press referred to the imposing chimney as ‘Dante’s Inferno.’

There was a high incidence of cancer among the residents of the surrounding area and the workers at Capper Pass. Tragically, many lost their lives due to the pollution. Even as far back as the early 1970s, lead and arsenic were found in cattle that grazed near Capper Pass. Livestock and crops had to be condemned on several farms. It was believed that public awareness of the situation would cause alarm if the facts became widely known. The environmental damage was extensive.

Despite the long reign of this invisible threat, the village near Capper Pass where I grew up continues to thrive, inspiring the likes of me with its dark bodies of water and impassable woods. These places remain my childhood haunts.

Carol Coiffait is a poet who lives in the village. I knew her as a child. We share the same sentiments about the movement of the water flowing through the village from the wolds, teeming with life and possibilities — how it has shaped our lives. My dreams often take me back to these old haunts, and I wonder if the water draws my dreaming self there, towing me along in the undercurrent.

“In the heart of the village the water shows itself again. Chatter from the mouth of the tunnel into sunlight caressing the gravel, the roots of cresses and minulus. Past water shrimps, minnows down towards the river.” —Carol

The chimney itself was rarely out of sight — a peripheral stigma. On sleepless nights, I gazed at it from my bedroom window, the warning light blinking in the dark. Hypnotising. As a small child I personified the chimney and believed that it could read my mind.

I wanted to capture the spirit of this place, as it has captured mine, and share some of Welton's stories — there are many to tell.

Home Ground is the final track on my album A Child’s Rumour and features the immensely talented clarinettist Robert Schuck, who is sadly no longer with us. 

Written, performed and produced by Gaynor Perry

Clarinet: Robert Schuck

***

"Home Ground" 

a poem by Carol Coiffait

I know these contour lines, this cleavage

between rib

and rib of chalky wold.

I know these arms of scrub and scree

where, in autumn, black bryony

and sloe reach between

her knees.

I know how wolf-winds curse and whine

through stands of sycamore

and pine.

I know the glint of streaming eyes

and how her shoulders hunch

against the winter's worst.

I know of no soft options for her skin,

her teeth of chalk

and flint, crazed

by an east wind's flat out drought.

I know up here that spring steps

slow, while down below

the gleet of water

feeds her secret flowers.

I know that they run wild

across her lap.

The snowdrops, dog violets

and winter aconites

conspire

to hide something she doesn't wish to own.

Carol Coiffait, photo: Hugo Schlechter

***

Painting: "111" oil on board.
Inspired by Welton and my imaginary childhood friends.

***

Capper Pass, photo: Internet



Capper Pass Chimney Demolition 1993
(action starts 0:45)

Victory Against RioTinto