This could be anywhere and I’m often asked where it is, and even when I answer, I see doubt in the person’s eyes.
This wall is somewhere in Buckingham. It’s stone, irregular, weathered, the individual stones hard to see. There’s a patch of dressed stone to the right, part of a window frame. About 3 cm down is a ridge of stone that crosses the entire piece. Then there is a sign which says “The Roundhouse” and that’s all. The effect is an abstract construction of white lines suggesting stonework. Random shapes mismatched and chaotically applied. The colours bleeding from one zone to another. Dirty browns adjacent to shocking pink. Tiny purple bursts by ochre block work in a sprawling mass of confusion.
The black sign, weathered with blue highlights, offers a single point of focus. The one identifiable feature in an otherwise anonymous scene. A scene that could be anywhere.
Stone, a symbol of permanence and yet showing the ravages of time. How long has it stood there, I wonder, witnessing an ever changing world?