11. Edges

One of the permaculture principles focuses on edges, inviting the permaculture designer to ‘use edges and value the marginal’. It stands in opposition to the capitalist, industrialised culture of centralisation.

Much of my work as a socially engaged artist has taken place at the edges of power, creating alongside people who have in some way been marginalised by the centre. I instinctively felt that this principle has been present in lots of my work, explicitly and implicitly. I’m interested in how a design process could focus more on edges, or on bringing together new edges in a social context. 

While in Stourport playing with how this principle is visible in my work, and in relation to the idea of what it means to be from somewhere, I explored beating the bounds in more detail. This is an ancient custom that may date back as far as the 5th century. In essence, communities would walk the edges of their parish together on a specific day, usually Ascension, the 40th day after Easter so often in early May. Together they would beat boundary markers which could be trees, fences, streams,  with birch or willow branches. Sometimes the young boys of the community would be vigorously bounced on these markers, literally imprinting them in their bodies and felt experience. A way of passing on knowledge of the territory, creating a map in the communal memory and marking ownership and responsibility for care.

I realised that I didn’t know the technical boundaries of Stourport. I had an instinctive sense of what territory was, and wasn’t Stourport. It’s something that’s always interested me - how people draw the lines of what is and isn’t ‘their’ space, often in agreement with others from that geographical community. The seemingly arbitrary lines my husband draws between villages that bleed into one another where he grew up fascinates me - who decided? How was this knowledge shared? So, I decided to walk the civic parish boundaries of Stourport. The ordnance survey map handily has these marked out. I was surprised by the boundary and cross referenced with a little research determined to walk the civic boundary, rather than the ecclesiastical, which was less clear (probably because Stourport as a town is in many ways a recent invention)

I was surprised to discover how big the area was, including THE OTHER SIDE OF THE RIVER! Which felt like an assault to everything I knew about my hometown. Over there is Areley Kings, not Stourport. I decided to stick with the civic boundary, especially because it changed my conception of what and wasn’t the town. 

Over four days I walked the boundary in a clockwise direction. There was tension, about my own inability to walk it one day because of my health. This was an interesting edge - my physical limitations and pain and the frustration of what could have been / should have been. In reality it maybe made me be more present, listening and responding to my physical experience, building in rests meant that I spent more time observing from different places. Had I been well I may just have powered through. Having to walk further because of the episodic approach meant that I also made journeys across the territory, like spokes of a wheel, discovering connections spanning the space.

Another edge was my ability and / or willingness to adhere absolutely to the boundary line. How comfortable was I with trespass? My deferential relationship with authority and doing the right thing, the polite thing, was in negotiation with my desire to complete the task and to explore my own edges. Why shouldn’t I be allowed to walk the edges of my home territory? Ownership of and access to land is a huge problem, in a country where over half of the land is owned by 1% of the population. Since the Enclosures Act people have been locked out of their own land, and the notion of land being held in common has been broken down. This breakdown in relationship to the land has run alongside a more transactional, exploitative approach to land use and the degradation of the environment. While correlation is not causation, it is clear to me that not having a stake in something reduces the desire to care for it. My willingness to challenge authority has grown as I have more frequently put my body in space as an activist, motivated by a desire to bring about change in response to the climate and ecological emergency.  This walk bought together some of these experiences. I notice as I walk some of these edges that my heart rate is higher, there is more tension in my body and I rehearse how I will explain my presence in places that are not public rights of way. It’s hard to stay present and observant in this state and I frequently stop and take deep breaths and use photographing the landscape as a way back into seeing and being present. 

I discovered so much on this walk - looking inwards to the space that is Stourport and outwards to the land beyond. I’m experimenting with how I document the walk itself - using the photographs, sound recordings and notes taken while walking, found objects and a scaled up map I created on brown paper. Below are some reflections of the overall experience.

• The boundary was, on the whole, surprisingly clear - human created boundaries like formal and informal footpaths, roads, hedges and natural boundaries like streams and rivers, woodlands and rock made navigation fairly simple for much of the journey.

• There were often large, old trees, that I came to nickname sentinel trees, along the route. I’d like to explore these and the connections between them more.

• Lots of the route was walked by others - especially by dog walkers. Even the bits that aren’t rights of way.

• I met someone who was on the edge of their own mortality. Losing their vision and with a terminal cancer diagnosis, having just buried a parent. A final visit to a place significant in their childhood. This was a powerful reminder of the significance of place in our lives, and I was deeply grateful for the connection and that I had the confidence to be honest about what I was doing. It sparked a very meaningful conversation. I think of this person often, they are the first audience for the work.

• There is so much more diversity of ecosystem in Stourport than I had imagined.

• I had an adventure - discovering parts of the town I had never visited. Stourport felt much bigger and richer than I had ever previously experienced it.

• Lots has changed since I lived there.

• I forgot that there is a military rocket motor and fuel test site that borders my town. I was worried that this project would somehow be parochial or shrinking, the global connections are literally pressing on the boundary.

• The rhythm of walking enabled a more embodied way of relating to and thinking about the territory. I know this but seem to have to keep learning it.

• One of the oldest buildings in the town was pulled down while I was there - the Carpets of Worth office. People thought it was protected.

• I became aware of a sort of schema of land use - caravan parks, light industrial, agricultural, housing - a patchwork of monocultures with very little interaction between them.

• There are some incredible landscapes that could hold performance in startling ways, from a natural red rock amphitheatre on the riverside, bordered by hermit caves, to a second world war pillbox on a hill looking out over the town. 

I would like to create a beating the bounds event. A playful, delightful land journey with performative and ritual elements. I’d like to explore how tech and thoughtful planning can make it an accessible event to people who couldn’t walk the whole way round.

Resources, references and further reading

Permaculture Principle 11: Use edges and value the marginal

Permaculture Design Principle 10 – Edge Effect.