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drawings
26 November 2013, 4:06 pm

A1 drawings, charcoal, tape, crayon, tippex and graphite. Submitted as part of my PhD research. Made on a trip to Fontainebleau in 2013.

Click to view slideshow. 



Source: http://andywhall.com

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evening song
5 December 2013, 12:23 pm



Happy to say I have climbed ‘evening song’ up on Carn Brea, which I think is the FA. It’s the longstanding sit start project to ‘evening son’. It adds about 7 moves to the original stand up. I have a video if anyone fancies buying me a pint for the beta, its complex! Gradewise It’s somewhere in the 7b/7c bracket. Its been mooted as a possible 7c, but it did feel easier to me once I had the right beta.



Source: http://andywhall.com

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Trencrom
30 January 2014, 5:09 pm

‘

Crow Over’ 7a+, Trencrom, West Penwith. Really very good arete problem, starts with hands chest high on flakes.



Source: http://andywhall.com

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Carn Brea
2 February 2014, 8:05 pm



Thanks to Adam for filming it and posting on YT. Obviously it’s not the 3rd assent (ascent). The problem is ‘the bloodstone arete’. I don’t know who did the first ascent? For a long time there was a cheat-stone which facilitated a hop into a mantle. Barney Carver dispatched the cheat-stone down the hill some years ago making it much harder. The proliferation of boulder mats, sometimes even stacked! started to make it easier again. This annoyed some people, so its now been done from the ground, without starting on a mat, via the hop and mantle and as shown in this video, starting from the right from the ground without a hop.

 video shows Barney climbing the original version.



Source: http://andywhall.com

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Porthleven studio
11 May 2014, 5:08 pm



Porthleven studio, art and training, filmed by Graham Gaunt in 2013.



Source: http://andywhall.com

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marks and slopers
12 May 2014, 9:00 am

After printing out some text for my PhD, I was struck by the reproduction of the above image. The sloper on the boomerang boulder, the crux of my recent attempts to traverse the boulder.I used the image to illustrate the role of the chalk marks as trace or residue of performance. I was also drawing on an analogy of bouldering being akin to the ‘event’ described by Harold Rosenberg’ in ‘The American Action Painters’ (1952). To extend this comparison it could be argued that the climber is inhabiting the event, the boulder problem and directing all his or her energies, intelectual, emotional and physical. The event is an embodied experience. 



The reproduction of the hold after printing took on an abstract quality, losing definition. The rock planes and surfaces became softer, more tonal. I began to think that they would make good drawings or paintings as well as being specific references or reprentations of boulders.



Source: http://andywhall.com

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Bits and bobs, from vimeo
26 May 2014, 12:29 pm

Currently putting together a new website and coming across old stuff. Spent a good evening session at Godrevy last week, messing around on cracked pot, sand levels were very low around trigonometry, that and high sand in the bowling alley spoiled my aims of projecting. Its such a fickle spot though, stuff falling down, holds changing.

Strange seeing problems that are no longer there, be-day is no more and Ur Hot has gone as well.

F 



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topos
26 May 2014, 1:58 pm

I’ve put together a list of online topos. The first three are all very old and from the blocspenwith site, which no longer exists. They are out of date and not all that good, but at least they exist. The clodgy topo is much better and is the work of Barney Carver. The Rusty Peg topo of Priests Cove is also good as is the Tintagel topo.

Info for West Cornwall is pretty sparse, good or bad who knows, but there is little chance of that changing in the near future. Boulder Britain gives a smattering of info, but its not in detail and in some detail is wrong!

Godrevy topo

Bosworlas topo

Helman topo

rustypeg priests cove

Clodgy 

Gwenver

Tintagel

Hoopers Godrevy guide



Source: http://andywhall.com

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marazion cliff slumps
30 May 2014, 10:25 am

All images taken from more or less the same spot on Marazion beach. I’ve been walking the dog along the bottom of these cliffs for five years now. They are in a constant state of slippage, boulders appear through the skin of the red earth face and then over time and slip out onto the beach. The top image although unclear is the most recent, taken after the winter storms, scoured the beach and cliff.





Source: http://andywhall.com

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the eternal return…Godrevy and Nietzsche.
2 June 2014, 9:19 am

For Nietzsche active nihilism was the capacity to instill value, for to project meaning is the prime expression of the will to power, the sole underlying motive force of the world.

Malcolm Bull in Anti-Nietzsche says that for Nietzsche ‘this final form of nihilism is the point of transition, the moment of metamorphosis into a new comprehensive “yes” to the world.

The collapse of meaning and value is what Nietzsche in the Will to Power calls the ‘eternal return of the same’. He envisages the world as a ‘monster of energy, without beginning, without end…a sea of forces flowing and rushing together, eternally changing, eternally flooding back, with tremendous years of recurrence, with an ebb and a flood of its forms’.

The eternal return and the capacity of man to deal with it ‘is a measure of the degree of strength of will to what extent one can do without meaning in things’.

These ideas didn’t seem to be helping me yesterday as I spent several hours working on a low and defined start to a Dan Varian addition to a problem of mine at Godrevy. My state of mind swung between the hopeless and the mundane. What was I doing wasting my time, yet what else was there to do? I thought of another problem of mine at Godrevy, I named it le tempe passé, 7b+. Its well over a decade old and what was at the time a faintly pretentious name, now seems prescient as years later I’m still bouldering at Godrevy and still attempting to extract meaning from the experience.

The value that Nietzsche rubbishes could in this case be my desire to make a better start to Dan Varians problem; it could be my desire to claim back what was a long-term project for myself. It could be the attachment of times passage to this piece of rock and my relationship to it. I make a move, this is progress, now nothing matters, I can indeed do as Nietzsche suggests and do without meaning in things.

I wasted too much time, months later and I have forgotten where the start hold is for the right foot.



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serpentine
27 June 2014, 11:28 am

 It’s amazing how exploration around West Cornwall can turn up new problems. I wouldn’t suggest that this is a great problem, but it would get stars if it had a top out, was accessible for more than a couple of hours at low tide and wasn’t either in the sun or wet!

I’ve also been motivated to get of my backside and get things done, as there are many more keen boulderers ready to come down west and get stuff done these days.

I really need to do the sit start and then I’ll be happy.



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Motivation and Mullion
14 July 2014, 10:52 am

very poor photo of Mullion project (Early July) Well I don’t know..all I can say is that motivation is at present it’s a bit low. My body feels tired and injuries seem more prevalent and nagging, the weather is too warm, the tides always seem wrong and the roads are getting busy. August is approaching and I hate August in Cornwall!… maybe I can get down to Mullion Cove and finish off a problem that has now taken half a dozen sessions. It’s not even hard, just too warm etc etc. Today though the tides are right and it’s not that warm, although it is humid. The dog sits next to me…he stinks and has fleas, he hates the summer as well. So am I any closer to understanding the slump in motivation, well the above is a start, it may also be doubts about the problem, the doubts that I have in creating new boulder problems, in spots that are at best esoteric. Mullion is accessible at least, very close to a car park and a cafe that does a mean cream tea and it has a unique walk in, via a 15 metre tunnel. It has at least a dozen problems on pretty solid hard rock. So what’s the catch, maybe the tottering choss that sits brooding above the main problems, maybe its the odd tourist that discovers the secret tunnel and comes to watch…maybe I just need to try harder!

11/07. Several days later and another session at Mullion, I think I’ve reached the end of this little period. I’m done with the place. There is no sit start to ‘serpentine’ or at least there hasn’t been on my last four visits, it’s been  buried under pebbles on each occasion. This makes coastal bouldering really frustrating at times, still I did add two other stand ups on the same area of rock. All three problems finish on the same hold. The middle problem is easiest, the left bit of wall climbing is quite hard and quite technical, 7A-ish I imagine.

I’ve put in some time at this spot and I have to now admit that it’s not quite as good a spot as I hoped. It’s a lovely spot though, I’d recommend it to anyone. It also has some very hard projects. The steepest, baldest, roof prow, that I’ve seen, which does have holds and I can imagine it being climbed. The catch, it only dries out late afternoon, evening time and needs a low tide.

Now I feel able to turn my sights to some other small and meaningful rock.



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Cactus and gaffa tape
22 August 2014, 10:44 am



 

Ok so the van has an MOT, which means we can leave Penryn, heading for Font, Switzerland, the Pyrenees, Spain, Madrid and back again.

 

 



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cassis van!
24 August 2014, 3:29 pm



Clutch pedal, it’s broken, no it’s not, but after some wine, the problem seems fixable, metal has sheared away, maybe a broken bolt. It could be worse. The van was under water up to the sills six months ago, then left alone and desolate on a farm. Only a matter of a week and a few days and we decided that the van needed us. Today after a very long 24 hours the van has made it from Penryn to Fontainebleau. Parked up at the bivvy site in Bourron-Marlotte, the broken clutch doesn’t seem so bad, other rattles, squeaks and thumps could have manifested as a problem, never mind. Last time I was here the temp was -10 today it’s nearer 20. The Forest is soft with evening sunlight and the buzz of bees, the cicada hum, the orange light fades to dark as the late August sun drops. England seemed autumnal, maybe we will hang onto a summer, at least for a few days before adding to a flow that came from within and in trueness made all holds hang-able as the Alps call.

Too much stress the last week means that little thought had been given to bouldering, its not a week ago that we were down at Tintagel, the sharp black rock and the blue sea still a memory, whilst seaweed sticks and clings to the Franklin pad.

Postcript. It is broken, it’s in a garage, a French garage. We are in a hotel.

 



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A6
25 August 2014, 7:39 pm

The A6 seemed such a fine road. 

This evening two days later I sit on the smoking area outside of the Ibis Hotel. The A6 tonight is particularly beautiful. Plastic chairs sit upturned against the drizzle. A woman walks past. I say ‘bon soir’, she blanks me, her walking stick click clacks across the concrete, making stable a frame of flesh that says otherwise. Her sluggish gait is confused by the staccato of her walking stick, counterpoint to the chordal surge of the lorries on the Peage. She moves away past the pot plants scattered randomly on the patio, a light comes on, and the pattern of the rainforest on her umbrella fuses in a a kind of Buaudrillardian syncopated post industrial dystopian vision of loveliness with the Hotel Ibis hydrangea.

Contribution from Jane:





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self portrait
8 September 2014, 9:22 am

Friday 5th September

Bouron Marlotte

Another very warm day, warm enough for me to admit a temporary defeat on Beatle Juice. The holds are at-the best of times greasy, right now they are horrible. Maybe later in the trip the temperatures will drop a bit and I’ll give it another go.

It’s very strange being here in the late summer/early autumn, much less depressing than the gloomy rainy days you get in the winter. Still I wouldn’t say I’m that I’m entirely happy, this trip has been nothing short of disaster in so many ways, breakdowns seemingly every week, hire car prangs and even today after the van is reasonably going well, this morning the wipers don’t work. I think basically the electrics are a bit screwed, we will see. The upshot though is that we don’t trust the van for the full trip, its staying put in Font. If we go elsewhere it will be by hire car, train or bus. Jane has taken the bus and is in Chamonix for the weekend. I’m a bit jealous. Hopefully we can both go to the Alps later next week, Magic Wood in cooler temps appeals a lot right now.

Thinking about luck right now, wonder if it’s time time that our luck changed. What I would like is for things to settle down a bit, letting me get in the swing of things, trusting things, like the van a bit more. I don’t feel right climbing at the moment, I’m overgripping, afraid of falling badly, afraid of getting injured and afraid of exacerbating existing injuries. I basically need to chill out, easily said and harder to do.

So what of narrative. The story of breakdowns and French garages and what else? Something else and much else are also going on and have gone on. The story of a boulderer for instance, the specific experiences of the boulderer that is I or me or Andy, who climbs like an addict, with an addiction that at times defines me. The history of climbing is littered with addicts and like all addicts I don’t know when to stop or how to act in moderation.

Today I videoed myself on a problem. I failed many times on the problem and as I contemplated the blank indifference of the boulder, sat squat and mute in a forest of beauty and tranquility that I could barely register, I saw a man approach me in the frame of the video that I barely recognised. He was older than I thought, his limbs rangey, stringy, muscles laid bare to view, by excess and lactic. He looked insane. I couldn’t say what brought him here and he couldn’t tell me. I hope we meet again. (In retrospect a day later I wonder do I want to meet him again)

Next morning the bivouac/campsite slowly clears as I make coffee. I’m attempting to recall the thoughts I had last night. I was thinking about the video image, a representation of somebody, me in fact. I was thinking along the lines of…..our need and prevalence to record our actions…

In the social media age this is nothing new. However in the context of bouldering this does cause me some problems. It takes me further from the experience of bouldering, forcing it into a representational, social arena instead. At it’s best, in my view, bouldering is a solopsistic and reflective process. It’s this aspect I’ve currently lost. A focus on performance, grades and videoing has left me deprived of the engagement with the primary experience. Videoing problems has its place, good for sponsored wads, documenting new problems, also good for recording trips with friends. But not any use for the solitary boulderer. Who cares if I climb a 7A+, the answer is no one and if videoing detracts and becomes a negative and debilitating pressure then leave the bloody camera in the bag or the van. Does this 7A+ need another video on the web, again the answer is no. Why not approach the problem as new, rather than with the clutter and prejudice of endless web beta, a horrible word that feels alien amongst the forest and birdsong, beta speaks of a digital world, that has no place in the reflexive and solitary world that I seek as a boulderer.

A day later, everything feels different, there is no black and white, experience is a layered thing and after a guilty search for beta on bleau.info, I’m at Drei Zennen trying the sit start to cocoon. It gets 8A, and that’s all that matters, it’s also not a bad line, which helps. I’m full of beta, video, grades and I’ve even been on the hateful 8a.nu. Yet even though the temperatures are high, humidity is high, my skin is sore, I’m kind of happy. I’m trying a problem that is hard, I have no camera and in fact, there is no useful beta. I’ve found the solitude that I sought and I’m deep in the processes of bouldering, not happy but IN IT.



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12 September 2014, 1:48 pm

Friday 5th September

Bouron Marlotte

Another very warm day, warm enough for me to admit a temporary defeat on Beetlejuice. The holds are at-the best of times greasy, right now they are horrible. Maybe later in the trip the temperatures will drop a bit and I’ll give it another go.

It’s very strange being here in the late summer/early autumn, much less depressing than the gloomy rainy days you get in the winter. Still I wouldn’t say I’m that happy, this trip has been nothing short of disaster in so many ways, breakdowns seemingly every week, hire car prangs and even today after the van is reasonably going well, this morning the wiper don’t work. I think basically the electrics are a bit screwed, we will see. The upshot though is that we don’t trust the van for the full trip, its staying put in Font. If we go elsewhere it will be by hire car, train or bus. Jane has taken the bus and is in Chamonix for the weekend. I’m a bit jealous. Hopefully we can both go to the Alps later next week, Magic Wood in cooler temps appeals a lot right now.

 

Thinking about luck right now, wonder if it’s time time that our luck changed. What I would like is for things to settle down a bit, letting me get in the swing of things, trusting things, like the van a bit more. I don’t feel right climbing at the moment, I’m overgripping, afraid of falling badly, afraid of getting injured and afraid of exacerbating existing injuries. I basically need to chill out, easily said and harder to do.

 

Sat 6th. So what of narrative. The story of breakdowns and French garages and what else? Something else and many other something elses are also going on and have gone on. The story of a boulderer for instance, the specific experiences of the boulderer that is I or me or Andy. An I who climbs like an addict, with an addiction that at times defines me. The history of climbing is littered with addicts and like all addicts I don’t know when to stop or how to act in moderation.

 

Today I videoed myself on a problem. I failed on the problem and as I contemplated the blank indifference of the boulder, sat squat and mute in a forest of beauty and tranquility that I could barely register, I saw a man approach me in the frame of the video that I barely recognised. He was older than I thought, his limbs rangey, stringy, muscles laid bare to view by excess and lactic. He looked insane. I couldn’t say what brought him here and he couldn’t tell me. I hope we meet again. (In retrospect a day later I wonder do I want to meet him again)

 

Saturday morning. Next morning the bivouac slowly clears as I make coffee. I’m attempting to recall the thoughts I had last night. I was thinking about the video image, a representation of somebody, me in fact. I was thinking along the lines of…..our need and prevalence to record our actions…in the social media age this is nothing new. 

 

However in the context of bouldering this does cause me some problems. It takes me further from the experience of bouldering, forcing it into a representational, social arena instead.

 

At it’s best, in my view, bouldering is a solopsistic and reflective process. It’s this aspect I’ve currently lost. A focus on performance, grades and videoing has left me deprived of the engagement with the primary experience. Videoing problems has its place, good for sponsored wads, documenting new problems and other such stuff, also good for recording trips with mates. But not any use for the solitary boulderer, who cares if I climb a 7A+,  the answer is no one and if videoing detracts and becomes a negative and debilitating pressure then leave the bloody camera in the bag or the van. Does this 7A+ need another video on the web, again the answer is no. Why not approach the problem as new, rather than with the clutter and prejudice of endless web beta, a horrible word that feels alien amongst the forest and birdsong, beta speaks of a digital world, that has no place in the reflexive and solitary world that I seek as a boulderer.

 

Saturday evening. A day later after a search for beta on bleau.info, I’m at Drei Zennen trying the sit start to cocoon. It gets 8A. I’m full of beta, video, grades and I’ve even been of the hateful 8a.nu. Yet even though the temperatures are high, humidity is high, my skin is sore, I’m kind of happy. I’m trying a problem that is hard, I have no camera and in fact, there is no useful beta. I’ve found the solitude that I sought and I’m deep in the processes of bouldering, not happy but IN IT.



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straight ups
23 September 2014, 8:22 am



Isatis car park. Got a table now so feeling pretty satisfied and civilised, drinking coffee and resting for the third day my injured knee, which is a bit of a downer. It’s fairly busy and in ones, two’s and three’s boulderers are walking into the forest. I can hear thwacks of rags as most likely Frenchmen wack the sandstone with their pof rags.

I’ve been coming to Font a long time now and I can still remember the thrill of driving down the track to Franchard that Jerry and Ben race down in the ‘real thing’. I can also remember a time when a friend said to me’ you should go to Font. you’d love it’. Unbelievably in pre-internet times it was quite possible to simply not know about something. This was the case with Font, I was a boulderer, yet had no knowledge that Font existed, I have to add that this is going back thirty years or so.

The first guide I had was the Stephen Gough guide with pictures of Stu Littlefair flashing Alta, (wearing a Poncho?). Then their was the useless but endearing Godoffe purple guide.This was followed by the groundbreaking and epoch making 7+8’s. This marked the beginning of a kind of minor obsession. Whilst sitting in the sun, I’m currently cross referencing my ticks from the old and aesthetic black and white guide into the newer and bigger colour 7+8’s, which I don’t like as much. Initially as I cross referenced, I seemed to be losing ticks, soft 7’s dropped away, this didn’t help my appreciation of the new guide. Yet a few days later as I began a second audit and pleasantly found that I had in fact missed a few, they had been hiding as circuit problems, and my count rose more than it had fallen, yet I still couldn’t love this new book. Maybe it’s because the count of problems has gone from 1115 straight up problems to 2669. I’m approaching my hundredth tick, which I may make this trip and I could see the target and feel the target, the numbers also sat well with the old tally, 100, then 16 more and I would have a target of 999. The new guide however with it’s thick, colour authority, shouts bluntly, there are too many problems, you are getting older, time is running out, and most importantly the next guide will be even bigger. Somehow these reactions are conspiring to make me see both the futility of guide book ticks and their importance as markers and signifiers in the passage of time and of course nothing will deter me from my quest.



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Magic Wood
30 September 2014, 8:48 am





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scratchings
13 October 2014, 8:39 am

The image shows carvings made by neolithic man, as he went about his business as a hunter gatherer. I find myself among the same boulders in the forests of Fontainebleau, under overhangs that may have sheltered the same people. Yet my preoccupations are more abstract, as I seek four more problems to complete a hundred 7’s in the 7+8’s guide.



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Sheep
13 October 2014, 9:10 am

  Couple of weeks ago at Magic Wood, we caught what I guess was the moving of sheep and cattle from the high alpine pastures down into the valley.



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Cornwall
28 October 2014, 5:41 pm

Just got back from 9 weeks in the Van. Feels very strange to be in a house again. There seems so much more to do. I miss staring into space, letting time pass. I have too much choice again, too many decisions.

In the end I managed to tick my 100th grade 7 in Font. It was an inglorious affair, humping my way over a rounded Bas Cuvier non classic, cheered on by three bellowing Germans.  I got in the van and decided I’d had enough and set off for home.

A few days later of Cornish drizzle and I’m restless.

eyelid drawing, doodles of the floating debris, seen with shut eyes.



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projects and process
1 November 2014, 4:49 pm

project and lichen Today I went out and had a bright and windy session on a new project, out on the north coast; I’d first checked this problem quite a few years ago. My memory though had played some tricks on me because on revisiting it a few months ago, it seemed very different. It was in fact much better than I could have imagined. It’s non-tidal, quick drying and very steep. Initially I’d been drawn to it for the compact rock in the upper wall, overhanging by about 25 degrees, few holds and long powerful moves. Today though, I realised the beauty of the bottom section which is a near horizontal roof. My core has been worked hard and in reality the problem may be far too hard, and I can’t even do a single move. But I did leave with a few ideas as to how to proceed. Also as is often the case with a new problem, half an eye was involved with figuring out where I would fall, if I would land on any of the boulders that surround the base, where the mats should go. All in all, it’s good, no problems with landings at all.

This session made me realise how much I love finding and working new problems. The evolution of what seems possible, revaluation as time passes with new visions and increases albeit small in strength. After a session trying one move and failing I’m happy. This is in stark contrast to my recent failures on the first move of Verdict in Font. I was failing there also on one move, but I was not enjoying it, I did enjoy it sometimes, on some of the sessions, but my last session I felt blocked. There was no joy or psyche, in the back of my mind I knew I was leaving without doing it, I was looking for excuses and in the end the injury list built to a degree that I knew it was over. Relief and a kind of depression filled me as I walked away for the last time and drove straight back to England.

Even though I had done all the other hard moves and worked out good beta for the first move, did it with what Jane described as a very small push from her, ‘one that wouldn’t have broken an egg, well almost’ she said. I could never in reality believe that I could do it; this was the problem, as well as accepting defeat. It made me feel a bit stupid, which further eroded the will and motivation. My desire to tick an 8A in Font was all I had and it wasn’t enough. Contrast this with a very surprising week in Magic Wood, with no real expectation; I was on my last day trying an 8A that I felt I had a really good chance on. I’d done the 7C version pretty quick, so was hyped and keen. I spent a day and night thinking of the problem, I was completely consumed. It didn’t happen of course, but I will be back.

It the consuming nature of a boulder project that interests me, this mainly comes from new problems rather than repeating existing problems. The quietness and back water nature of Cornwall gives me this privilege. It allows me the time to become consumed and absorbed in the process of projecting. The process can often become in itself the consuming characteristic of the activity. This also can only happen down here in Cornwall. Today I climbed alone as I often do. The ego and context generated by others is a far off idea, I’m alone to act and do as I wish, and the process is driven entirely by my relationship with the boulder and rock. There is competiveness within this I guess, the desire to keep these projects secret from the marauding folk from up country, to do it first. However I think that ‘to do it first’ is also the creative act that aligns bouldering with my art, makes it art in fact. I feel ownership of these projects, the project today comes from nowhere but me. Solipsistic I suppose, but the experience I had today feels very different from the experiences I was having in Font, bouldering with lots of people around. It’s got very busy there over the last five years or so. It feels like a climbing wall sometimes, which I don’t like; the bouldering becomes a social experience. This can be good of course, but bad for me in the way that I feel watched, that some kind of performance is taking place; stuff seems to detract from the purity and absorption of the movement and the relationship with boulder and process.

To make some reference to some theory…Maurice Merleau-Ponty writes that, ’we must avoid saying that our body is in space, or in time. It inhabits space and time’.[1] To establish this position ‘Merleau-Ponty relies on the Gestalt[2] discovery that one perceives one’s surroundings as requiring one to perform certain actions or as being appropriate for certain forms of behaviour’.[3] He describes this as the power ‘to reckon with the possible.’[4] This is directly applicable to the scenario of boulderer and boulder in that the boulderer perceives the actual surroundings, the environment they are familiar with and together with learnt, practiced motor skills, acts in an appropriate way. The key element here and one that gives this response its creative potential is that the boulderer is not passively receiving data from the world, rather they invest their environment with a bodily significance.

On another note, my dog hated today. He got freaked by the exposure; he is more cowardly than me. He then spent the next two hours, shaking, nervously. He was so keen to leave he pulled me back to the van.

[1] H Gordon and T Shlomit, Maurice Merleau-Ponty’s Phenomenology of Perception: A Basis for Sharing the Earth, Greenwood Publishing Group, 2004, p.161.

[2] Gestalt theory focuses on an existential/experiential approach that emphasises the individual’s experience in the present moment. Fritz and Laura Perls and Paul Goodman developed Gestalt therapy between 1940-1950.

[3] Komarine Romdenh-Romluc, Routledge Philosophy Guidebook to Merleau-Ponty and Phenomenology of perception, 2011, Oxford, Routledge, p.101.

[4] Maurice Merleau-Ponty, The Phenomenology of Perception, 3^rd edition, Oxford and New York, Routledge Classics, 2009, p. 127.



Source: http://andywhall.com

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stingray 7B+
28 November 2014, 2:52 pm

 Pretty sure this a new problem, starts very low left hand in a pocket, right hand on the lowest rail. Three hard moves then it meanders over into ‘blue ray’. Good news is it stays dry, bad news is that it isn’t very good…actually I like it and it kept me occupied on my visits to Tintagel when ‘AWOL apprentice’ was wet, which so far this winter has been on all of my three visits.



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reasons to be cheerful
18 November 2014, 8:41 pm

 

Gaskins ‘crimp problem’. Photo from The Short Span, website.  I guess I must be free [in the way Bukowski  rambles about in a depressing manner in the video below] as I scuttle around like a child on a freezing and cold day on a recent trip with Jane to Glendalough, in Ireland.

We are free and happy!

In very cold and windy conditions, I got stuck in on the Gaskins ‘crimp problem’.  I managed the move from the very small and painful rail fairly quickly but ran out of power and motivation in the cold. If I had only checked the beta beforehand I would have given it a few more goes and been a bit more professional about it. At the time I was convinced that I was starting to high, I’d been looking for a lower sit start, not realising that it started on the rail. Hindsight, what a great thing.

Back in Cornwall I’m wondering if I should add this to  my list of crimpy short 8A’s projects, that now include two problems in N wales, one in Font and one in Magic Wood. Though what it has really made me think about though is my current project in Cornwall, which is harder than all of the above and its got smaller holds or non holds than the Gaskins problem. It’s time to get stuck in and the beauty of this problem is that it stays pretty dry and is non tidal, a rare thing for these parts.

So Bukowski…he’s chauvinistic and misogynistic, yet his weariness and wiseness seems an antidote to xmas nonsense and the dreary and trivial posturings of contemporary ‘thinkers’ such as Russell Brand, with his careerist inspired student politics.

Happy xmas everyone.

 

 

 

 



Source: http://andywhall.com

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I was out in Glendalough last week and wondered who had been trying the crimp problem. Respect for moving off the rail!

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Boomerang chipped!
2 January 2015, 6:22 pm

Chipped hold?  

Location of chipped hold I’m reluctant to say but am pretty certain a hold has been chipped on ‘Boomerang’ 7A+ at Clodgy Point, St Ives. As a first ascentionist and the fact that I’ve climbed this problem many times, familiarity suggests its been chipped. It doesn’t show any evidence that a storm may have have thrown up a rock or waves removed stone. Looking at the photo it appears pretty blatantly intentional, the fact that it makes a perfect hold in just the right place to make the problem easier, suggests some ignorant f..ck has chipped it.

What can one say, not a lot, but there are sure some ignorant fools out bouldering these days. I of course as an old fart blame indoor walls.



Source: http://andywhall.com

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West Cornwall’s hardest and unrepeated problems
8 January 2015, 6:55 pm

I got thinking about the number of unrepeated  problems down in West Cornwall. Not many, but worthy of a list! As a starting point, I had a peek at the list from ‘hard bouldering in West Cornwall’, compiled by Barney Carver in 2006, found here.

It’s interesting to note that in the last nine years the hardest grade has only shifted up from 7C+ to a proposed 7C+/8A. Although the big 8A has popped its head up a couple of times. Dave Biggs‘ Providence, at Godrevy was touted prematurely as an 8. As was . These both slid back into top end 7C.  However, it’s quite possible that 8A does exist in West Cornwall. Providence seems desperate to me, as does the recent power endurance addition Wonderland from Tom Bunn at Priests Cove. Press and news sites such as UKC seem to be sticking with the big grade on this one. I’d also stick my head up and suggest Barney Carvers Circumnavigation at Clodgy is an 8 (it’s certainly a sport 8). I’ve trundled my way round most of it, joining Andy’s Linkup V7 and Work in Progress V8, which must add up to V9 or 7C. Barney’s line takes in one more V7 and still only gets 7C – someone tell him he’s done an 8 of either persuasion!

So back to the unrepeated. From the original list I as of yet know of no repeats of Chris Hall’s Moves Me and John Fletcher’s Cave traverse at Helman, they have probably had repeats so we will wait and see.

Carn Brea’s Pond Wall and Yep SS are too easy for this list, but again are unrepeated as far as I know.

Injected Persistence at North cliffs has probably fallen down and Controvoscopy at Godrevy is an illusion, both are therefore unrepeated.

Beachball at Godrevy was shit and should never have existed. Big Red has been repeated, or should have been, I think I’ve done it.

The Minitower Traverse (a.k.a. Three Egyptians) was repeated by myself; same for Andy’s Link Up and Work in Progress, both by myself and a couple of visitors.

Dreckly at Bosworlas is so off the radar I have no news of it at all.

Double Beach Bed at Gywnver has I hope fallen down, maybe it looked good to the first ascentionists but looks horrible to me. There are some good problems down there but there are also some optimistic ones, complete with optimistic grading. For example, the Pea is most likely not 7C. Also down at Sennen, Mark Edwards White Wedding, mooted at V9 hasn’t had a recorded repeat. It’s a very long problem! I’ve done the crux section, going both left and right, between the arete and the crack, which seems more like a boulder problem.

So onto the list so far of problems awaiting repeats and grade confirmation of 7B and above in West Cornwall. I haven’t got much info for stuff further afield, so this list really only includes stuff that I know about in West Cornwall. Hopefully others can contribute, lets get this list complete?

Wonderland 7C+/8A, Priest’s Cove FA Tom Bunn

Circumnavigation 7C, Clodgy, FA Barney Carver.

7C+, Godrevy, FA Dan Varian.

Controvoscopy 7C, Godrevy, FA James Pearson.

7B+/7C, Godrevy, FA. Andy Whall.

The Passage of Time, 7C, Godrevy. FA Dave Biggs.

7B+, Zennor, FA Andy Whall.

Needles in Your Eyes, 7B+/7C, Zennor Moor. FA Andy Whall. Takes the line right of Foreign Affair

Evening Song 7B+, Carn Brea, FA Andy Whall.

Injected Persistence, 7C, North Cliffs. FA Dave Biggs.

 



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Sintra, a bit like Carn Brea
5 February 2015, 10:05 am

On what has been declared the ‘most depressing day of the year’ Monday, January the 26th. We left a wet and cold Cornwall for a short flight to Portugal. Tuesday morning and we look out of the hotel window at bright blue sky and sunshine, the light of warmth. Later heading out up winding roads to check the bouldering at Sintra, we stopped in small, old village, peered into cafe’s, saw a place that has resisted change. A cold wind blew down from the mountains, contrasting with the bright and warm sun. The area had similarities to other granite bouldering areas, the pine trees familiar from Kjugekull in Sweden and Escorial in Spain, hot sun rounded and scoured rock, like Bishop in California producing similar effects, the darker and greener aspects were reminiscent of Carn Brea in Cornwall.

Sintra though was pretty unique, the vegetation reflects a wet and humid, Atlantic influenced climate. Large decidous leaves and dense vegetation, add to a slighly tropical feel. Other than that the bouldering is typically granite, hard on the skin, looks easy, isn’t! The bouldering is spread out and clustered in small sectors. It’s hard to imagine that there aren’t masses of unclimbed boulders to go at. It was also really good for the soul to be climbing in such a quiet and peaceful area. No other climbers and not even much evidence of chalk or other bouldering trash, no dogs, kids or families! Guide found here.

The second day we trekked to the coast to find the promised quality, 45 degree roof scoured of sand and more like a small sports crag, no climbing there then. We then sampled mistakenly the Portuguese national dish of dried cod, not very nice. The sun had dissapeared now and as we drove back up into the mountains the grey clouds began closing in and the wind increased. After a big lunch and wine it was a bit tough to get gooing again. I tried a very good 7C called Mito, but my slumping body didn’t give much a contest. In the end I had a sloppy send of the 7A+ stand up. Gloom and wind drove us down to our hotel.

Our rainy rest day was spent with good intentions of being a tourist.  In Sintra there is  a really good restaurant called Incomum, 10 euros set lunch, amazing! the Quinta Da Regaleira (gardens) also good for a rest day.

Sintra Sintra, gardens  

 



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between the see-er and the visible
23 February 2015, 6:51 pm

Early January. What does it mean to have a project?

I want to call this a curve of possibility. This experience occurred on the project I was on today as I added a move to what was already an existing problem.

‘I really don’t know if I can do it. So much seems to go against me, today I rolled some skin on my tip, just arranging my fingers on the right hold, and I hadn’t even pulled on. Below is a clip, this proves I can do this move. I look at this clip to prove to myself that I can. Yet in all the tries I’ve only ever done this move once. Conditions need to be good; this is rare, skin needs to be good, the crimps are small, very small. The sand levels change, this is a big issue, as the move from the ground feels a bit different every time. But these are all excuses; it is possible, yet time and motivation ebb away. I ask myself why I’m not more psyched, extracting energy seems impossible, maybe its my diet, my weight, my mind, maybe it’s the abstinence from wine or maybe it’s the marijuana I’ve been smoking this last few days.’

I want this process to tip into the possible; ‘I want this problem to be  8A’. The holds are horrible and small, the moves long to more small holds, then to slightly bigger small holds then it all ends and doesn’t even top out. What a strange thing to be doing.

A session later. I have done the move, once more, yet it still seems still like a long way to go to actually doing the problem.

Climbing down into the ‘bowling alley’, the personal history of the place strikes me. I’ve been coming down here for years and this current project is the culmination of all that time. The LTP, Le Temp Passé, seemed a pretentious name at the time, now its seems prescient. At the time of climbing LTP (2002) I was adding a lower start to the existing and prosaically named ‘crimp problem’ this used to be 6c in old money (UK tech grade), so I guess about 7A  (FA of this problem is unknown). My addition was to start in the triangular pocket and move left onto the crimps of the original problem; I gave this V8 at the time, which fits with a current consensus of 7B. Last year I started this problem a little to the left, doing a move before putting my right foot up onto the triangular pocket, this avoids the pocket as starting handhold, which is good because its often wet. It also seemed like an independent line as it starts further left and goes straight up the wall finishing high. I called this ‘Madeleine’ and gave it 7B+, though it might be harder, possibly 7C. This then opened up starting a hold lower and moving into Madeleine. I’d only ever looked at this start as a fantasy; yet it became a reality in a shockingly fast manner. In January 2015, I pulled on and stayed on. If I could pull on, I should be able to move, it was a revelation. So this leaves me with a project that is now very possible, albeit one that destroys my skin and has holds so small it takes a real effort of will to try the thing.

From a phenomenological perspective Merleau-Ponty describes a moment such as the one described above as being:

between the see-er and the visible, between touching and touched, between one eye and the other, between hand and hand a kind of crossover occurs, when the spark of the sensing/sensible is lit, when the fire starts to burn that will not cease until some accident befalls the body, undoing what no accident would have sufficed to do…’^[1]

 For me meanwhile I wait for the confluence of tide, wind and a feeling of lightness and desire.

[1] Maurice, Merleau-Ponty, Eye and Mind, Merleau-Ponty’s ‘Essays on Painting’, The Merleau-Ponty Aesthetics Reader, Ed, Galen A, Johnson, USA, North Western University, 1993, p.125.



Source: http://andywhall.com

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Llanberis and Ogwen
19 March 2015, 8:09 pm

Llanberis tree My first night in a CC climbers hut. I rationalized sometime ago that sitting in a warmish hut was a better option than crouching and squatting in a coldish van. It transpired that I was right. It is though a bit weird, alone in a mountain hut, the wind howling outside, doors creaking and banging, surrounded by relics and pictures of climbing antiquity, right in my view line I have a picture of Everest base camp and a group shot of Oxbbridge types including Menlove Edwards. I remember reading the slightly controversial biography by the slightly controversial Jim Perrin, I’m pretty sure Edwards spent a lot of time in this hut, as I suppose have many other notables. To be on the safe side in case a beardy of the non hipster variety arrives, I left my bouldering mats in the car.

Old boots, Helyg CC hut I’ve checked out ‘sway on’, nice and dry and very excited to try this tomorrow. It was the first 8A I tried quite a few years ago, never really had a goodgo at this in recent years so keen to try tomorrow. I have a nice bottle of ‘reserva best’ from the Spa in Bethesda, and I’m intent to only drain it to the half way mark and no more. I don’t want any excuses. . ‘sway on’ is basically a one move wonder, pull on from a sit start, snatch to a crimp and then one more easier move and it’s all over. So I’m headed out in the morning and giving it some serious work.

Diesel Power will have to wait, it’s less skin intensive and stays drier in rain, so it seems that giving ‘sway on’ a go first, seems sensible.

After about five hours bouldering..I began to question question my sanity, asking myself what it was worth, to get one of these ticks. I remember before talking to Jane and saying that I would readily give £150 for a bona-fide 8A. At this point I started to hatch a plan, I could feasibly, if i ditch next weekends work stay up here for a week and a half, surely this would be enough time, surely the weather would co-operate enough to give me some good condition’s. Poor weather would give me rest days. I’ve also brought work with me. So all I would be losing is a couple of days poorly paid work. I ask where doesmy commitment really lie?

Sway On…gave it a good go, in the morning, in the sun, then came back once it dropped into the shade. It got cold very quickly and I struggled to keep warm fingers. I got very close lots of times. By this I could pull on and latch very briefly the next hold, alas a brief latch is not good enough, soon I was tired and my fingers were screaming. But this was so much better than my last go at this problem, then I could pull on and up but never hit the hold, so I was pretty pleased.

Next morning found me early, sitting under ‘diesel power’, it was starting to rain and the wind was howling, it was grim, I wanted to go home, I hated this. I tried a few moves and could barely pull on. One hour later, I’m happy, although totally tired from yesterday and repeated pulls onto the crux, I suddenly started using an intermediate and the move went, not once but three times in a row, the problem was cracked. If I could do this in my current state, surely, fresh It would feel easy.

A day or two later….a lot of rain…

What price failure? On this trip, fuel cost me £140, car repairs cost me £214, hut fees cost £60, lost working hours costs, food and then shame! My shame knows no bounds, I have wasted time and money and only have failure in the face of my objectives. I can say I did this, I did that, I learnt this and that, it’s all about the journey, the process, bla bla, but I didn’t climb the problem. I was deluded and misjudged my ability and the difficulties of the problem and that is that, the bare bones of failure and the cost. Did I enjoy it, no!

OK BUT, next time! I did the problem in two halves, I did the middle third, which was the crux for me. So that means surely I can do it, all I need is more time and more money, train harder bla bla bla. What a crazy life. If the seed is there, if the idea is there, It’s impossible you can’t let it go, its as simple as that. So in answer to the question what cost failure, it means nothing, it was all worth it and always will be.

I also climbed with my nephew Ioan and went for a walk, which was marvelous.





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ice floe
27 April 2015, 6:51 pm

Ice floes off Greenland 16th April…Somewhere over Greenland I looked out of the window and saw vast open spaces, filled with ice and water. I stared until my eyes hurt and my neck was stiff from twisting in the seat. It was sublime. I made myself scared as I thought  about trying to survive in such an environment. The blank beauty observed from the enclosed cocoon of  the cabin stripped the experience of everything but spectacle and imagination.

The violence of landing comes in stark contrast to the unreality of the flight, when the engines fight and gravity pulls. Power being all that stops catastrophe. I feel this every-time I fly, maybe it’s less that I’m scared and maybe more that the experience is again that of the sublime, a peep into the horrors of an imagined  tangled abyss.

Love is similar, sometimes it’s like the flight of unreality, smooth and of the imagination. Yet so often the reality is like a meeting of forces, of life and love, of feelings that we barely understand and only comprehend with difficulty.

Before flying out to Denver I didn’t understand my bouldering either. I didn’t understand why a thing that provided escape and solace, now seemed dogged by the insecurities and frailties that follow me round daily, like a not quite black dog. I’ve started to voice and write about these things to try and understand and to admit to myself that the skin is thin and that the life I lead may not be as honest as I thought.  In bouldering terms, it’s about nerves, failure and no fun ( I started a thread on UKB  http://ukbouldering.com/board/index.php/topic,25693.0.html and unsuprisingly there are others out there, that get an attack of nerves before hard projects). The boulderer goes from a state of rest or stasis into violent exertion with often no transition.  The boulderer often goes from literally sitting on their arse to an effort equivalent to let’s say a weight lifter doing a lift, sudden, extreme and violent. A collision of forces and desires.

Stepping back and thinking about this I need to prepare for that approach to the boulder and the minutes and seconds  leading up to starting to pull on to the problem. It’s all blindingly obvious really and I’ll see how it goes. If only everything else in life was as easy.

I guess the difficulty is the quest to regain some meaning in this moment.



Source: andy whall

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Colorado and Joe’s Valley Utah
5 May 2015, 7:48 pm

Eldorado Canyon, Colorado I’ve been in Colorado for nearly two weeks now, not really sure where the time has gone. Snowboarding for the first time at the beginning of the trip was not such a bright idea. I’m still nursing sore intercostal muscles. Clocked up a few sessions and a look at the famous CATS gym home of the strong and visited by the weak.

Checked out Eldorado canyon and did a couple of polished classics, Gill Face V2 and South Face V2, respectively John Gill and Pat Ament problems. After this tried a Paul Robinson V9 called Resonated, lovely spot down by the creek as shown in the above drawing.

Checked out Flagstaff and had a look at Trice V13, stuck the first move for a nano second! wished I had more time.

A weekend gave us the chance to go further afield. A long  drive up Poudre Canyon, gave me the first taste of the mountains, so peaceful and wild. I did a couple of classics on Hanks Boulder, Scarface V6 and hanks Lunge V5, flashed the 5 and should have flashed the 6. Took a few goes to do another good low-ball called Puffing Stone V6, by this time we were tired and bothered by very large mosquitoes. Sunday should have seen a session at Fort Collins but it rained!

Big Bend, Utah A week later we went to Utah, very hot in the Moab area so headed for Joe’s Valley. Turns out it’s a pretty amazing spot. I’d been once before over ten years ago, It had seemed ok. but not memorable. This trip proved quite different, maybe it was the difference between the hustle of Boulder and the complete silence, peace and relaxed ambiance of Joe’s and nearby Orangeville. It was still hot, maybe a bit warm for sandstone, but we got a lot done.

Andy and Jane’s moderately busy tick-list What really need mentioning though is the good work done by climbers and locals in making this a very worthwhile destination. The bouldering needs no hyping, solid sandstone and masses of boulders. But what is really interesting is the way the area has been managed.  According to Brad Davis, Director of Utah Office of Outdoor Education, interviewed in Climbing, may 2015, ‘Climbing has had a strong economic impact in Orangeville, where Joe’s valley bouldering is located…since 2000 when Ben Moon first climbed Black Lung V13…Now that coal is being replaced by cleaner natural gas, we’re working with the land managers and groups like the Access Fund and salt lake Climbers Alliance to enhance camping facilities and access to the boulders’. What this means in reality is trails up into newly developed areas, porta-loos at the campsites, which are quite and peaceful and free and a warm welcome in the local town, Orangeville. The Aquatic centre positively welcomed us when we went for a shower, they have a map and get all the dirty climbers to mark on a world map where they come from. The Food Ranch, pictured below is also awesome, world famous donuts recommended.

Orangeville, Food ranch I couldn’t help contrasting this positive situation with the situation of the free camping in Fontainebleau. I was lucky or unfortunate enough to experience the closing down party at the now long gone Bas Cuvier bivouac. This was shut down because of the ‘crap’ and rubbish in the forests surrounding the bivouac spot. In the Autumn of 2014 I spent quite a few weeks at the Bouron Marlotte bivouac, this site is again free, managed by the authorities, but I fear this will be shut soon as well. I witnessed daily the procession of campers/boulderers trooping of into the woods, with no shame, to shit, even though a toilet is provided. Not a nice one, but better than the woods. It seems that in this situation the climbers feel that they are entitled to climb in the forest, not realizing their behaviour is being watched and balanced in the light of all the other users of the forest. I’m not sure what the answer is in this situation.



Source: andy whall

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Tintagel/Berlin
20 May 2015, 9:33 pm

I escaped the drudgery today and drove in spring sunshine out to Tinatgel, N Cornwall. I had a feeling that I needed a session on my own, not sure if I’d lost my ‘mojo’. The evening before I’d prepared a performance score for Rebecca to perform at The Month Of Performance Art in Berlin. I was unsure about this, also wondering if I had lost my interest in art. It was interesting to have someone perform it. Turning an idea into action. This thought I carried with me as I went bouldering and maybe for the first time since completing my PhD the art and bouldering came together.

This is the link to the MPAB and programme   http://www.mpa-b.org/22-may-2015.html

The score outlines an  ‘event of equivalence’  rather than a representation of the bouldering  experience.

The performance engenders a new ‘moment, which can be described as ‘an event of equivalence’, Created in the space that borrows from both bouldering and art. In the event of equivalence problems of subject and object relations are addressed in a creative context and demonstrates that meaning arises as a result of a discursive, expressive encounter, where meaning can be regarded as emergent and enactive rather than fixed.

The performer stands alone in the space with a chair. It’s indicated that the performer will at some point make a leap into the unknown, using the chair as a launch point. The performer will indicate that this leap is an equivalent of the leaps made in bouldering as the boulderer moves dynamically from hold to hold.

The performance is intended to render new orientations of human movement and creative possibilities, as a staging of ‘meaning- in-the- making’.

The proposition stated in the previous paragraph, which was that meaning emerges in a creative sense is articulated by Sally Anne Ness* as she describes the screaming that an American boulderer makes as he moves over the rock, as movements that, ‘were conceived corporeally, in unconventional, unintended, spontaneous movement processes. I [Ness] term these latter movements of significance, instances of meaning-in-the-making’. Ness goes on to suggest that the screams ‘describe an embodied ability to process significance intelligently without recourse to contemplative, self-conscious, or subjective theorizing’. I’m not sure the grunts I make are quite the same as this and I’m not sure what my tourette like swearing outbursts after falling, mean either, but in plain english the meaning is spontaneous and unrehearsed, live and in the moment.

[*] Sally Anne Ness, 2011 Bouldering in Yosemite: Emergent Signs of Place and Landscape, American Anthropologist, http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/j.1548-

 

Images below from ‘an event of equivalence’ CAZ, Penzance, 2013

EOE. CAZ. 2013 EOE. CAZ. 2013 Below is a short film of the problem AWOL The Apprentice 7C



Source: andy whall

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madeleine eats cake
22 June 2015, 7:02 pm

I’ve written a few times about this project specifically here between-the-see-er-and-the-visible/

I got back from the States and had a good run of getting up things, the sticking point of failure and nerves seemed to have disappeared. I’d done AWOL 7C at Tintagel the week before and on the 28th May, I turned up with little expectation in the Bowling Alley at Godrevy. It was dry and breezy, I warmed up and three goes later I’d done my project. It’s fair to say the first move is pretty hard, on small and sharp holds. Grade wise I’m struggling, it’s not an eliminate, it starts on the lowest crimps, climbs into and finishes as LTP left. I wanted it to be 8A, maybe it is, time will tell.

I finished the problem in the obvious and regular way on the large jug/ledge. It is possible to finish higher as in the video in the older post. It would add a bit grade wise, but is maybe a bit contrived. So I’m settling with this version.

It’s hard to rationalise a grade, in comparison it’s harder than AWOL. The first  move is the crux and as a singular move I think it’s harder than any move on Burnt Toast 7C+ and Blacking Out The Friction 7C and Dave Biggs’s  LTP traverse 7C+ also at Godrevy. I’ve recently been in North Wales and did Diesel Power in 2/3 overlapping sections, again as a move it’s harder than anything on Diesel Power. A few years ago I did Guy Fawkes 8A at Portland, which I think has dropped to 7C+ in the new Portland guide, (at least it has on the UKC logbook), Madeleine is quite a bit harder than this problem. So all in all, with my limited experience and the fact that the problem is my favored style and strength, I am optimistic it’s hard enough to be in the region of 7C+/8A .

from andy whall on Vimeo.



Source: andy whall

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boulder being
13 July 2015, 8:45 pm

I’m often moved to question what bouldering is all about and what it means.

So much of my time is spent bouldering in isolation. This is when the intensity and focus becomes greatest, yet it can also makes me question why I’m engaged in such a solitary pursuit.

Bowling Alley, Godrevy, Photo by Rowan Spear -Bulmer. 2015. As I move away from the social, finding myself deep in the black and gloomy ‘bowling alley’ at Godrevy, I’ve thought… I’m done with this place. Two months ago I did what I genuinely thought was the culmination of my interest. I’d added a couple of moves to To LTP left and thought that was that, nothing harder to do. I called the problem madeleine eats cake, But as I hit the finish jug, there was little elation, I felt empty, I’d expected more, both from the problem and my response. On this occasion I didn’t walk away and drink chanpange and rest on my laurels…I shifted my mat two feet to the right and started work on Dave Biggs LTP traverse. The Passage of Time.

I have such an intense love hate relationship with this place. The approach when the tide is in, is down a steep path to the flat rock platform above the trench or alley. It’s a perfect spot to survey the problems before climbing down to the bouldering. I then find myself in a narrow corridor of rock, the problems on the overhanging black face, in front of me and the stepped descent behind me. After spending time down here it’s a relief to climb up the steps and regain a vista and a sense of perspective. This perspective is also accompanied by a powerful sense of nostalgia and recognition of time passing. The original and somewhat pretentious names* that I gave these boulder problems now kind of mock me with a retrospective prescience as I fail to walk away, as I fail on a problem, or in this case start working a new problem.

Looking down into the Bowling Alley, Godrevy, Photo by Rowan Spear -Bulmer. 2015. I breathe deeply and smile inwardly, this problem felt hard, I was happy again, as this became a project for the next couple of months or so.

It is the process and the journey that’s so engaging, the result  basically so profoundly uninteresting, only mattering at the cutting edge of bouldering, the sport. For me, my passion swings between ebbs and highs and some-days as I sit at home and wonder where or what to do, a gloom transcends over me, the black dog hovers over my shoulder…yet the ‘boulder being’ takes over, it’s a place where I can be and even in the gloom of a cloudy and damp day, with the rock oozing moisture and a damp sea fret pushing in off a sea that rises fast with an oncoming tide. I flap and brush and curse at the rock, yet in a small and intense way I am happy. Nothing much comes of sessions such as this, at least not in any easily quantifiable way, yet it reinforces a connection to the material world that matters to me.

I drive home and the loneliness surfaces again, I want to drive and drive until I can think no more.

This kind of thinking has got me once again into the position of considering the nature of a bouldering philosophy. I’ve completed a PhD and I find a publisher that is interested in my solipsistic musings on the nature of this activity. I’ve declared that I will write a book, he says ‘great’, I say ‘great’, I say I will write it in the autumn.

* Le temps passe

So solitude takes us so far then the search for the meaning takes us back into the realms of the social. In this case this was the best I found after a search for bouldering philosophy on the internet. There’s not a lot of reflective thought and writing on bouldering and philosophy, at least not much stretching established conventions. Understandably the Bleausards have a good go, the second video has some nice stuff and the first is the legend, John Gill laying down some thoughts.



Source: andy whall

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Granite: Convergences and Divergences seminar. Saturday, August 1, 2015.
6 August 2015, 4:25 pm

Click to view slideshow. Granite: Convergences and Divergences seminar which comes out of an ongoing dialogue between Artist researchers Dr Andy Whall and David Paton. In this seminar they explored what granite meant to them and how it has shaped and influenced their lives, research and art practices. Through discussion and performance, they highlighted the convergences and divergences of their practices.

David and Andy, who operate respectively as granite-worker and granite-climber, have developed long-term relationships with the granite outcrops of South West Cornwall. From this embedded and critical position, an exploration of form, surface, material[ity], interior and exterior will be contextualised in the seminar through a series of granitic encounters.

‘Granite: Convergences and Divergences’ follows on from the ‘Being IN [landscape]’ seminar, held in 2013 by CAZ and Falmouth University which addressed immersive models for investigating landscape. This seminar at CAZ will be followed by a second at Zennor (tbc).

‘CAZ Talks & Seminars’ The CAZ seminar programme involves regional/national/international artists/researchers/academics and is designed to bring expertise and innovative practice into Cornwall and showcase critical activity and research happening within the region to those from outside. www.cazart.org.uk

photographs by Graham Gaunt  



Source: andy whall

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Zennor
20 August 2015, 5:27 pm

Bright and breezy day out at Zennor. Ed wanted to try Zennor Fool, this problem is over three years old so I was pleased someone wanted to try it. Initially we were a bit shocked to find that the large undercut had been knocked off in a storm, Incredible really as it is quite a way above sea level. It was still climbable and Ed dispatched it pretty quick within the session. Grade wise he thought 7C a bump up from the 7B+ I gave it. As a problem its lost a bit of mid problem burl, but still climbs really well. Barney and I ned to go back and finish the job.

The scope for other problems was also confirmed. I managed  at the end of the session to deny the pain and pull through the crux to create an instant classic, ‘old spice’, 6b/6c. The sea was thundering amongst the boulders and the dead point for the lip of the boulder pulled me closer to the roaring void of ocean and broken bones, this is what makes coastal bouldering in Cornwall so special.

old spice, photo Ed Gow-Smith



Source: andy whall

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the pangs
16 September 2015, 12:11 pm

Yr Wyddfa and LLiwed, sunset. I want to describe and represent a visceral recollection of a bouldering session. I’ve been in N wales for a few days and recalling a session yesterday as I sit in my van after a long night’s sleep and write. I’m reading William Finnegan’s ‘Barbarian Days a Surfing Life’ which is most likely one of the best and articulate surf biographies ever written. He describes with accurate and restrained words the experience of surfing waves and a life lived to surf waves. In one LSD inspired moment the power is extraordinary and ultra communicative. Although having also surfed large waves I find just one bodily dimension missing, the ultra physiological pressure of the extreme. Finnegans words convey richness and the richness layers itself upon its own richness, a feast for sure.

My body hurts, a few months ago I pulled an intercostal muscle snowboarding. Bouldering of course prevents healing, yet still I keep on. My right thigh muscle is sore and my fingertips are sore. The session yesterday at the Rhiw Goch Boulders, near Betws y Coed, resides in my body through a series of micro tissue and tendon damage, the purple patch on my left middle finger, bruising from a sharp hold, acts as a visual reminder of the bouldering.

Session one.  Recollect and remember…’I lay on my bouldering mat and watched the sun and shadows on the boulders southerly aspect, overhanging, 30 degree face. I ring a friend, we talk about difficulties in our lives, and I’m not sure why I have done this at this point in time, to distract myself maybe. To get away from the…it doesn’t really work, equilibrium is lost…again…It seems unfair…this is my time this is supposed to be me, my essence…the boulder being.

Does it go, can I do the moves? Yes I can. I clean a hold, the sun has passed across the face, I go shirtless and I tell myself I’m strong (I’m not, at least not on this day). I pull on, left hand on a sharp and slightly shattered layaway (sideways hold) and my right hand on the jug, I breathe and stay still, my left foot on a small dink. From this position of tension I lift my right foot and place my heel by my right hand. I pull with my right heel adding more tension, shifting the frames of tension ever so slightly upwards. Using my heel Like this is a technique I’ve had to learn, part of the lexicon of modern compression bouldering, I used to see a heel as a hook, something to hang from and not as I’m doing now, using it to pull, generating tension and movement. It’s getting good, I’m in the moment, the dribbling preoccupation I described in the past paragraph has receded and I’ve got the intensity I crave.

It’s easier to push myself now, I pop my right hand to a small sharp triangular crimp, to get this I had to release the tension and momentarily de-weight, become weightless as I dead-point to the crimp. The body does of course start to fall ground-ward (but it doesn’t feel this way). In reality I have contracted all my muscles, creating a kind of surge to compensate for taking my right hand from the jug and moving/snatching for the crimp. The tension becomes conscious again as I move my left foot six inches or so to a higher dink. I have to mark these footholds with small chalk marks, or else they become invisible during the eye popping, eye watering straining I’m enduring. I pull and contract again and throw my right hand far out left somewhere over my left shoulder. I catch the hold momentarily but my heel loses contact from the jug and I spin and helicopter, twisting outwards as the tension releases. This was a better effort than I had expected. I tell myself I could have held on. I’ve done the crux I tell myself. I can do this problem. What I didn’t know, but which I now know after my second session is that I had got the beta wrong for this particular move, more of that later though.

This kind of activity draws me inwards, focuses me in an unconscious manner on the macro. I notice the sun passing across the face of the boulder and I feel the sun on my back. I make a kind of impromptu sundial, crucial because the holds are too small and hurt too much if the sun is on them. Because the skin oozes moisture, the friction between skin and rock becomes poor and it all becomes hopeless. My patience is tested though as I wait, again this is why I got distracted and phoned a friend as I described before. As I wait, I clean the holds, file loose shreds of skin from my finger tips, drink water, urinate, wave a towel at the rock, fanning and willing it to become cooler, I feel happy, I feel depressed, I look at my phone, I eat half a banana. I try the problem, still in the sun, my fingers hurt, I get nowhere, and I’m an idiot. Desire, romance, the unconscious and the rational play themselves out, using me as their tool, a body a ‘boulder being’ as unable to control events as the small hold is unable to affect the passage of the sun across the face, oblivious to the forces of meteorology and planetary movement that are marking the rock with non sentient intention.

The tired middle-aged man in his van is not an athlete of clock, chart, spreadsheet or nutrition. He lacks a coach, mentor and confidant. Yet he may well be an athlete in the classical sense as his mind and body collaborate in a journey that is always continuous and always of beauty and improbability.

The Rhiw Goch boulders are a recently developed sector, post the 2004 guide. The problems range from 7A to 8A+. In reality the area comprises of two massive blocks fallen from the cliff above, intact in their sculptural form. The fault lines within the rock have encouraged the block to split in two. I’m interested in the front one of the two blocks leaning at an angle of 50 degrees away from its partner. The steep face is in two sections, split by a vertical crack and corner. The right side of the face is the one that contains Nazguls Traverse. The bounding right arête of the block is undercut and leans slightly rightward, creating a slightly crazy, visually confusing and deceiving set of angles (steeper than it looks). The base of the boulder is a bit boggy. But flat rocks placed by other boulderers have made the base quite amenable. A flat sloping shelf of rock faces the boulder; here is all my stuff, wellies, and socks. Three pairs of climbing shoes, chalk bag, a brush, finger tape, nail clippers, sanding pad for my skin and flappers, bananas, water, towel for drying shoes, hold drying and general flapping. I have three bouldering mats and a brush on a telescopic pole, plus a tarpaulin for the wet ground. I also have the clothes I stand in, plus a down jacket to keep warm whilst resting. I have a guidebook in the van and I’ve watched three videos online this morning for beta.

I’m well equipped, if not prepared. The preparation is all the stuff that swirls around in my head and that’s the crux of it. I imagine myself looking on, as an onlooker. I must appear as my Jack Russell appears to me as I watch him on a long lead tied to small tree, as he pulls one way then the other. He was here at this spot on my last trip, sniffing and digging in one corner under a rock, then stopping, looking around, completely distracted and unfocused. Something unknown to me gets his attention and then he’s off again, this time snuffling and yelping with excitement. This on-of-on attitude matched my action and inaction, my shouts of frustration and self-encouragement and sulking.

Further macro thoughts…I peer closely at the crux hold, the crimp, maybe I’m wondering if visually something will be revealed that I’ve missed. My touch though has surely told me all there is to know. The two senses have corroborated and tell me the hold is small, looks lighter in colour than the surrounding rock, maybe bleached by the constant presence of chalk and brushing. It’s overhanging enough that it would rarely if ever get washed by rain, maybe the sun gives it the sandy look, maybe I register this, because I know I shouldn’t even be trying this move whilst the sun is on the rock. The hold angles down to the right, the surface that I reach for, fits three fingers comfortably, the little finger struggles to stay put, depth wise it’s half a pad, less than a cm I guess, deep. It’s also slightly crenelated, this causes an uneven compression of the skin, which is why it can start to hurt so much. My thumb drops of to the left of the edge getting some purchase as a kind of pinch. This is all what happens when I catch it open handed (open grip). Alternatively and this is what I do in reality and anger is that I crimp it. This means pulling on the hold till my fingers are bent, knuckles squashed and pointing upwards, my thumb then falls across the top of my forefinger. This grip is more solid, more powerful, and also more injurious and as I said hurts more. But it gives more power to lock and make the next move. I’ve been trying this move and getting nowhere, unable to pull hard, the sun makes the hold greasy, my skin hurts, blood is oozing from a split on the top of my forefinger, where the skin joins the nail, the force has disfigured and eventually split the cuticle. A sure sign that I’ve put the effort in, although not one that I welcome.

From this description the reader might think that this all about fingers and finger strength. Indeed it is primarily, this is vital but the rest of the body apparently dragging along behind believes otherwise. It always seems easier to think about the extremities, hands, fingers and feet, the core tends to act intuitively, and it also acts from habit. Sometimes these habits need to be unlearned, unpacked, this can often be the key to unlocking a problem. Yet this is also the hardest aspect to self analyse, awareness comes with difficulty. Often the last factor to be addressed is the head, capable of being the key to the problem and also the problem to the boulder (problem’). By this I mean emotion and in the case of this boulder problem its physical, physiological position. The gaze or look is the physical manifestation of this process. I look at the holds and what else, why do I notice that cobweb and that rust coloured patch of lichen, is this good focus or distraction, I’ll never really know.

Second session. I had high hopes today, at the end of the last session although tired I had sorted out a vital section of the sequence. Instead of keeping my heel on as I popped from the high left hand crimp, I turned it into a toe, so heel became toe. I tried this as an afterthought; yet it worked and I’d done the move first go. So I was confident I could get it done on this day. The weather was bright and breezy. I sat out the morning, hoping my stiff and tired body would respond to the rest and ibuprofen. Mid afternoon I drove out of the Pass and into the landscape in the easterly lee of Snowdon, the cloud cover increased and the wind dropped, it didn’t look good. I was still optimistic though and even as I walked up the hill through the bracken, midges biting my arms, the humidity and overcast sky should have made me turn round.

I didn’t though…I pulled on…my first go…felt cheated, it was horrible and greasy, moisture pricked through my thin skin. I felt dejected and depressed…I’d wanted to move on, get this problem done. Now I had that familiar feeling that this might become a siege, would I even get it done before I had to leave in a weeks time, would the weather crap out? My head was filled with doubt and negativity.

For something to do and address what I thought might be holding me back I had a go at the final move. I’d had a stab at it, decided it would be ok when I got to do it in anger so to speak. But deep down maybe this was holding me back. Basically after sticking the final roll over crimp, you get your feet high and then make a long throw sideways for a good but sharp hold. At this point both feet cut loose and the swing has to be held, it’s a violent and slightly intimidating move. I gave it some focus and did it second go, so not so bad really…I topped out for good measure. So although a disappointing session I did leave feeling that I have now prepared for a send, everything is in place…hopefully.

Third session, video shows below that there was no send. Watching the edit, I see a jerky, unrelaxed climber. No joy, just ‘the pangs’. But as Samuel Beckett said;

‘Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.’



Source: andy whall

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Pit boulder, Ogwen.
28 October 2015, 11:54 am

 Although I didn’t intend to I’ve freed myself from my projects. I was feeling tired and uninspired so I checked out a boulder that I thought might be dry (it was raining). I’d done Harvey Oswald as a stand start some years ago, but I’d forgotten what a good-looking boulder it was. The sit start to Harvey Oswald was fun but painful. I came back on the second day for the traverse which looked really good, with a couple of  nice fine grained slopers mixed in amongst the crimps. The rock has a pale, whitish colour, which reminded me of Swiss granite, also having the effect off brightening up the atmosphere around the boulder and lightening my mood. I shared the second day with some Robins that hopped around picking up my crumbs and two local climbers. They left when the rain really set in, but I had a good feeling and went back to the van for coffee. The rain stopped. I’d worked out all the moves, apart from the finish and done a couple of links so I felt like it was worth a go. My first attempt finished a move short, in pain and frustration. I rested for half an hour, chatting to the Robins and generally feeling moderately happy, nothing to lose and after an intense 30 seconds found myself at the jugs, the last moves were a bit improvised, in fact entirely improvised as I moved further left than intended using some holds that I hadn’t expected to use. Watching the video I see my thigh brush the mat, but for my purposes I’m not going back to do it again, I can live with that dab! For me I surprised myself, I tried really hard, pulled really hard.

I can’t muster any introspection, I was simply very happy to get up some problems this weekend; maybe the projecting can go too far. Chatting with the guy and girl I met at the boulder was interesting; we talked about the lack of videos showing projecting/failure. They had both climbed a lot and had spent time on projects (all winter in one case) and both got injured and/or fed up. So both highly motivated, yet both slightly cynical and depressed at representations of bouldering in media. They thought that projecting, in fact a reality for so many wasn’t really shown in videos and magazines. Maybe UKB type forums reflect a truer reality, but that’s definitely not mainstream. The video clips we see, seem effortless, devoid of struggle. We wondered how this would affect the younger generation, maybe making them impatient for success and frustrated if it doesn’t happen. It was good to share the boulder and share some thoughts on how this activity is getting portrayed. For us at that point in time, three people under an overhang in N Wales in the rain, I felt that it was a good vibe, far from the send, soft, send, soft mentality!



Source: andy whall

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cold granite
21 November 2015, 5:28 pm

‘Arctic blast’ says the weatherman…this means granite projects…muddy paths, not a soul around, slate coloured sky and steel clear sea.





Source: andy whall

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Bleau
8 December 2015, 12:46 pm

 Haven’t seen this for years. So inspirational for so long.



Source: andy whall

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Treen, new problems
9 December 2015, 6:42 pm

… and we came to a landscape bare of light and life, fields and paths of mud, earth and animal…two years later I leave the same landscape… of granite, wind and sea.

I came across these boulders two years ago on a Xmas day walk. It’s taken a while to get back and climb three new top quality problems. Its been a bit of a siege. Cleaning initially, then working out what was worth climbing. Then a longer than expected process of getting them done. Probably in the end, half a dozen visits in all.

Carousel is the tricky one, the sequence didn’t come very easily, unsure wether to move up the arete, or move right and finish on the prow. Its steeper and harder than it looks in the video. The main issue is getting the left hand pinch on the arete before moving right, I fell so many times and then once I got it right, it felt completely solid, solid enough for my heel to pop twice!

Its a lovely spot, cradled in the cliff, overlooking Pedn Olver beach. Visible on google earth. Park near the pub and walk to the coast path and drop down.

 



Source: andy whall

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Xmas wishes
25 December 2015, 9:03 am

Happy xmas to those celebrating and to all others; it will be over soon.

cliff ejecting rock, sea ejects blue foam, monetary union, Marazion Beach



Source: andy whall

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Australia boulder 3D laser scan video
2 January 2016, 6:38 pm

 When I first saw the results of the scanning I was quite unprepared for what I saw. It is quite hard to describe, but I can say it was not like looking at a conventional digital image. What I had previously always seen from my perspective as a climber, I could now see from one position removed.

When the photographer Gaspard-Felix Tournachon took the first aerial photographs of Paris, he described it as though he were experiencing an existential free-fall. My first view of a 3D scan of Clodgy produced a similar feeling of disorientation. The experience felt immersive and visceral. The overall sensation was of a bodily experience rather than a visual one.

scan by J. Gallwey, 3DMSI



Source: andy whall

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in between the rain
8 January 2016, 6:15 pm

Amazingly it was dry today! I nearly missed it, such has been the unrelenting regularity of shit weather. Filmed a couple of classics, a lot else was covered in damp glowing wet lichen. I also saw for the first time the damage on the classic arete boulder.  It does look like it was intentional. I also thought Crystalline entity seemed to have better holds/crystals than it used to.

Reported by Bob here  http://www.ukclimbing.com/forums/t.php?t=602276#x7922302

 



Source: andy whall

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tree
27 January 2016, 7:12 pm

Bouron Marlotte, Fontainebleau. Icy evening, moon, mist and trees.

The next morning I watched as two forestry workers cut down a large diseased tree. The chain saw buzzed and sawed cuts around the tree base, one cut and another watched, metal wedges driven in to the cut. I looked at the top branches waiting to see movement. Slowly at first and then with a powerful rush of air the tree toppled. I could feel the push of air a 100 metres away. Initially a whooshing noise then a roar and then a cracking woomph as the tree hits the ground and branches explode in all directions.





Source: andy whall