Surroundings
A man
stands out from across the lake. He walks with confidence in his stride,
greeting people as they briefly pass each other, and wears a bright orange
jacket. He disappears, and then all I see of him is an orange shade behind the
brush surrounding the river.
Three
women huddle close together, bracing themselves in the cold as they breathe out
smoke and pucker their lips for the next drag of their cigarettes. Amongst them
is an older woman with yellowing nicotine stained fingers. She taps the side of
her cigarette, knocking ash into the wind. A bright pink ring of lipstick
remains on the discarded stub.
Two men
walk at a brisk pace, both of them carrying their limit of respective goods.
The student holds a stack of books between his hands and chin, fumbling as he
tries to keep them secure and straight. The chef holds an incredibly large wad
of napkins against his waist. Both men ask each other how they’ll succeed in their
fields.
30s in
a trench coat, unbuttoned. She acts like the wind un-phases her, but her
expression screams irritation and her face is raw from the chill. Her dark
rooted hair continues to make its way to the front of her face, as she
continues to push it back and carry on with her route.
Two
friends discuss matters over a mid-day meal, the youngest of the pair speaks
loud yet raspy voice. The older often nods and occasionally slips in a word of
agreement, but for the most she stays silent and allows her friend to continue.
A lad
with sunglasses stops in the middle of the wooden bridge. He admires the small
waterfall feature by cannot truly appreciate the sound of its running water
because he’s using one of his earphones. He takes out his mobile phone and
surveys the surrounding area, to not be embarrassed by anyone that may be
watching him as he takes a snapshot of the scenery. He then puts his phone away
and continues with his route. He does not remove his sunglasses.
A girl
clasps a book to her chest as she sits on a hillside, occasionally peering up
to observe the environment and scribbling into a notebook. She’s trying to be
unseen, but with red hair it’s difficult.
Sam Wright
25/09/2015
– Edge Hill University, Ormskirk
I sit on a grey marble slab near the
lake. The air is clear and there is a whiff of an autumn chill, cold and crisp.
The still quiet of the late morning is shattered by a flock of noisy students,
trooping to get to their next lecture. Their noisiness disappears and silence
returns. Moments later, more human traffic rushes past me, in greater numbers
this time. An older woman is sat on a wall to the right of me, chattering
loudly down her phone in an endless mantra. Her conversation soon ends and she
departs. I hear the echo of footsteps dancing throughout the vacant spaces
between the buildings. It is followed by more a flood of more students. I walk
around the campus gardens and sit on an old stone staircase. Its dark lime
blocks are old and withered. Behind me is a middle-aged man mowing the lawn,
circling the grass in unpredictable patterns. He frequently vanishes behind the
trees briefly before emerging again into sight. In front of me is another man
albeit younger, who has finished mowing the other island of grass. All around me
are the bodies of fallen leaves in orange, auburn, and yellow. The man with the
lawn mower roars past me from behind. The trees dotted around the garden are
like giants, their branches extend far and outwards offering shade from the
sun. Another leaf descends and lands with a slight crack in front of me. No noisy students here, only the growl of the
lawn mower.
Jack Carter
Posters
There
is a pleasant smell in the air, a combination of what appears to be coffee,
muesli and other various (yet unidentifiable) scents which would typically be
found in a café or coffee shop on any given morning. I am sat facing a stall
that sells a range of vivid and colourful posters. A solitary woman stands
among the stands that display the posters, carefully studying them individually.
She seems to glide between each of the somewhat sporadically placed stands,
remaining silent and paying no attention to a pair of students that have
suddenly entered the labyrinth of posters. There is a distinct contrast between
the behaviour of the woman and the behaviour of the two other students – the
students laugh and joke amongst themselves (remaining subtle and inoffensive)
whilst flicking hastily through various posters on display, whereas the woman
remains soundless, passing through the stands of posters with a steady sense of
direction. Both the pair of students and the woman seem to settle on their
posters of choice within moments of each other, before almost simultaneously
drawing them from their protective display casings. They head towards the sales
counter at the same time, forming a small queue, before completing their
transactions. Following this, the two students and the woman leave the poster
stall, each heading in a separate direction.
Will Hewitt
hub (no.2):
The wind whistled through the open window weaving
between strands of the woman’s hair as she gazed out the window at the ancient
tree in front of her. Her reflection seemed so young in contrast.
Cara Jones
The Hub:
Up the concourse, and then down again, only to
return and move to the Reception desk, a suit strides, with plastic-protected
documents wrapped under his arm. Overhead, above the the summit of the stairs,
a tiny FIRE EXIT sign hangs by two strings from a white, round-sided
ventilation duct of either thin metal or shiny plastic; a contrast to the
mostly-grey, multi-panelled ceiling it is affixed to by several thin rods. A
sparse, thinly-spread, lumpy gathering of primarily youthful individuals sit at
the numerous seats, more drinking than eating, as it is yet too soon in the day
for a proper lunch. Either individually, or in pairs, people step the stone
floor proudly reading IN SCIENTIA OPPORTUNITAS, either jaded, uncaring, or
perhaps even ignorant to the significance of the Vatican's ancient tongue so
far from home. An irregular scent of fresh food, tantalising and
hunger-inducing, comes and goes according to the exterior breezes wafting in
from the opening and closing sliding doors, glass like many of this place's
walls. Sunlight of ever-shifting intensity invades through these surfaces,
supported by surgical streams from the skylights, geometric without exception.
The din is endless: of footsteps, of overlapping voices, of striking hammers,
and the clattering of cutlery, highlighted by the occasional rolling trolley,
many of them loud and heavy with unseen loads. The echoes are profound in this
high-ceilinged space. The physical design is sound, with the only development
present in the foreseeable future being the removal of the many stickers
dotting many vertical surfaces.
Bradley King-Spooner
Mass Observation: Group 3 (Arts Centre)
I
ambled into the art centre in the midst of a small crowd. Most of the people in
this group were drawn to the art exhibition off to the left; the wide variety
of art works displayed there intriguing its new found audience. The costumes
are made out of different materials like plastic cups, paper and metal, but
every last detail on the items is sculpted to perfection. There are paintings
and sketches of people who looked like they were about to jump off the page and
mingle with their admirers. The group moved along to props made for the stage;
the props were simple enough, but made professionally by students of time gone
by.
The
word “art” encompasses a variety of different aspects, and when the crowd
departed from the exhibition another aspect of “art” came into view: a lone man
walking along the path, only to set his bag down and produce 6 tennis balls.
This man then proceeded to juggle to six balls with seeming ease, a master
practicing his craft in front of a captivated crowd. He made no mistake in his juggling and bowed
to the gathering a few minutes later after his routine had finished. I left the crowd to their admiring and
wandered more of the art centre, passing chattering throngs talking about
everything and nothing at the same time. Looking at my watch I realised that my
time was up, and I made my way to my next meeting.
By
Emily James
Mass
Observation
‘Arc’
Out from
the Reedmace which shivered against the sharp autumnal breeze, a girl seemingly
from another era of time, walked around the bed of the lake which glistened
with stars below a clear blue sky.
Wearing
a black floppy hat and an equally oversized handbag, her outfit cried out that
it was 1964, only for the headphones swaying from under her curled auburn hair
confess to it being the 21st Century.
As the
girl entered the shadow emerging from the building composed of glass and turquoise,
she passed by and made her way inside.
‘Tangent’
Balloons
of white, green and yellow are tied to pillars outside the Faculty of Education
Building. Passers-by fail to see the celebration, as their faces remain sombre
and transfixed ahead.
‘Circumference’
At the
source of the lake, against the exterior of the Psychology and Social Sciences
Building, a boy looks to the sky in ornate concentration as he juggles five
tennis balls with immense talent.
With
his back turned away from the handful of people gathered, he performs to an
audience of trees.
Philip Pierce
MASS OBSERVATION
Dimensions
OUTSIDE
Front
There is a polished black
cuboid of a building -- the Hub -- positioned before me, its front made up of
panels, windows and doors, with six large, marble-white poles supporting the
whole structure and two rows of smaller grey poles positioned in a formation
akin to turrets. A row of windows sinks into the surface of the upper and lower
levels. The windows on the lower level are adorned with images of wine bottles
and crisps, and catch a blurred reflection of the building behind me. Crisp
orange leaves rustle across the pavement, crackling in a mild but biting wind,
which is otherwise not strong enough to tug at the five trees arranged in front
of the building. There were many people – students and teachers – walking past,
but now the space is suddenly very quiet and almost completely empty, save the
few sat on benches, huddling around coffee cups or handbooks or each other.
There is a laptop in front of me.
Left
Doors that cut into the
fabric of the building remain shut for a time, until they automatically slide
open once they detect the advance of two students, both wearing skinny blue
jeans and 'trackie tops'. A bridge, formed from bricks, mortar and stone, fuses
the Hub to the original Edge Hill site. There was a song playing on a radio
nearby – a woman's voice – that was trying to break through the static. But
there is now a more dominant sound – an electronic whir, coming from within the
building, not unlike the hum of a factory. The wind still continues to bite,
but once closer to the plants beds, the scent is much more potent. There is a
laptop in front of me.
Right
Flower beds are encircled by
rings of crimson bricks, with sharp plants leaning over. A metallic orangutan
swings – but without any motion, its artificial limps gripping a strip of wire.
It is mounted upon a plinth, amongst the lush vegetation of its private jungle,
its fixed expression focused quite intensely upon the people that pass by. A
vivid 'orange-peel' staircase burrows into both the side of the building and
into the ground, acting as a fire escape. It is even colder here. There is a
laptop in front of me.
INSIDE
Downstairs
It is much warmer inside the
Hub. Television screens are hung from the top of more poles that act as the
bones of the building, forming a white skeleton that bonds the stone staircases
to the modern architecture. Those sliding doors continue to open and close in
response to approaching humans. Tables and chairs dominate the vast ventricles.
Some chairs are wooden, whilst others are padded with red velvet. Men and
women, young and old, are either sat down or walking past. Some are talking and
smiling to each other, whilst others are deep in concentrated thought, deciding
whether to go for the apples or the Apples. Confined to the sides are the
computers and the large stands containing chilled drinks and sandwiches,
arranged in rows like terminals. Amongst the chatter of people is the clanging
of trays, the hissing of coffee spewing from the coffee machines and the
giggling of a baby in a pushchair who has just been escorted into the building.
You can look out at the people and buildings through the vast windows, some
plastered with large sticker strips that read #EHUFreshers, only backwards. A
spiralling staircase is laid out in front, leading upwards. Soft, white light
radiates from the roundels fixed into the ceiling, although the light grows
much harsher if you look up and stare for too long at the glowing bulbs.
Suddenly, I now see specks of colour in front of my eyes when I blink. But
there is still a laptop in front of me.
Upstairs
Through the windows on the
side of the atrium, there is a panoramic view of the campus, albeit a view that
only touches the roofs of buildings and the tops of flourishing trees. However,
you can see the open sky stretched out across the canvas of creation. The
clouds are grey. There is a second view; the glass wall between me and the
empty void of the upstairs space allows you to peer over and watch the people
walking in and out of the Hub, often accompanied by the clicking of high heels
or the pounding of heavy footsteps in sturdy boots. Once more, there are padded
chairs – although this time with fabric – and computers arranged upon tables,
some receiving attention, others remaining neglected. A Fire Exit sign
indicates towards the doors that lead out onto the 'orange-peel' staircase that
spirals from top to bottom on the right hand side of the building. There is a
laptop in front of me.
Harry Draper
A man stands …
A man
stands by a large tree. He seems confused as to what he’s doing. He stands
there seemingly unaware of what he’s trying to do. He leans absentmindedly
against the trailer clipped to the back of his gardening vehicle. A spade which
once was propped against the trailer has fallen on to his foot but he doesn’t
even flinch. He picks it up, scratching his head and begins to scrape away at
the soil beneath the large tree.
The
screeching sounds of a lawnmower echoes throughout the trees. It circles around
the gardens, giving the grass its weekly haircut. All of a sudden it screeching
comes to a halt. Silence falls around it. The lawnmowers driver steps down from
his high perch to collect two plastic cups which lay stranded amongst the
grass, most likely the after mass of a night out.
In the
middle of the gardens sits a young man. A pad of paper in his lap and a pen in
his hand. He stares into the distance as the cogs and gears begin to turn
inside his head as he searches his mind and his surroundings for ideas and
inspiration. His head soon turns to face his paper, his fingers press the pen
against the paper and he finally begins to write. Another man wanders nearby,
choosing to sit just a few yards away from his fellow writer. He pulls out his
notepad, placing it in his lap and begins to write just the same. They seem
almost identical. Soon after, a woman appears. She too chooses to sit just a
few yards away from her fellow writers, pulls out her notepad and pen and
begins to write just like the others. They seem to be completely unaware of
each other.
A group
of young women stroll past, they are captivated by the sculptures and pieces of
art that they can see inside the red walls of the building in front of them.
Intrigued by the pieces of art, they discuss how these pieces might have been
made. Specifically the ones which are made from just paper and nothing else.
The
courtyard is deserted. Only the sounds of the wind and singing birds can be
heard. All of the curtains have been drawn, secluding people inside from the
outside world and stopping people on the outside from peering inside.
The
sounds of footsteps and the smell of baked goods have filled the air. A woman
wonders down and around, following the paths. She watches, listens, smells,
taking in everything around her. Just waiting for something interesting to
happen, with a pen in her hand and a pad of paper in the other, just waiting
for something to write about. As she wonders around, searching for ideas, she
writes in her paper. She’s writing about herself.
An
empty egg shell lays amongst the leaves beneath a tall tree. What was once the
home to a small, developing bird, is now a hollow shell containing nothing. It
no longer holds a purpose and has been tossed to the ground. It’s been used and
is now worthless.
Lucy Ellis
Mass Observation
Wispy Wasp
Sitting on a two person black leather
couch, in front of a huge TV; Blaring out the news in deep bass voices, two
women enjoying yoghurts while discussing some notes they had made; probably
from a university session a few moments ago. They were very alike, from the colour
and style of their hair to the floral patterned tops they were wearing.
A wasp started
buzzing around them, swishing from side to side in their faces and around their
yoghurts. One woman panicked practically throwing her yoghurt pot to the table,
leaping off the couch and running waving her hands around her head. While the
other laughed, explaining that “it was just a wasp”. It buzzed around another
person; a man casually sitting on a similar couch next to them listening to big
headphones while watching something amusing on his phone. The standing woman
begged him to kill it as he swung out at it as well, missing with every swipe.
By the time he
had stood up to strike at it again. It was gone.
Jessica
Crichton
BULLETPOINTS
·
The two workers of the coffee shop worked in co-ordination
with each other, both whizzing and weaving past each other to reach distant
utensils. They did this continuously in order to serve the onslaught of thirsty
customer’s queueing patiently.
·
The three workers turned to each other to engage in idle
conversation, taking a moment of inactivity to socialise amongst each other,
whilst they waited for people with enquires to approach.
·
The man strolled calmly and peacefully through the room but then
suddenly stopped to gaze at a table filled with unusual items of clothing.
After satisfying his curiosity, and offering a quick word, he slowly began to
walk once more.
·
The girl walked along briskly, phone tightly in her hand as
she made her way across the room. Then she spotted her friend, an expression of
joy appearing on her face as she enthusiastically greeted her before both of
them sped off down the hall together.
·
The two men talked to each other whilst both holding onto
metal frames, filled with heavy contents for the shop they stood outside of. When
the conversation ended both returned to work, one heaving the large cage into
the shop while the other lifted items individually and carried them in.
·
The boy leaned forwards lazily, one hand holding his perched
head and the other holding his phone out before him. His facial expression
showed boredom but his eyes showed curiosity as the screen held his interest
completely. Eventually he craned his head to the right, looking for someone,
allowing both hands to rest on his lap. However, it was mere seconds before he
returned to his previous position, gazing at his phone.
·
The two students sat alone in the large room, content with
each other’s company. The only other sound was the roar of noise coming from
outside the room, in the large hall outside filled with fellow students, and
the only scent was that of the food before them.
·
The girl sat on the floor above, overseeing the whole room
below filled with people. The noise drifted up towards her but she remained
quiet, lazily spinning in her chair with one foot while the other foot lay
across her lap.
The
girl walked along casually despite her right foot being covered in a cast.
However, it didn’t deter her walking ability as she continued forwards with
determination to get to her destination.
Lawren McKenna
The Hub
10:40
A group
of new friends walk down towards their lectures and look over at the food being
prepared by staff in their smart uniforms. Their disappearance opens up space
for viewing and now a hooded youth sits talking to his friends. The leather
sofa he sits on looks evidently comforting as he slumps down.
10:45
Two
people sit just in front and their conversation is audible. The man comforts
his female companion with an arm rub and shows his support. A girl walks by
twirling her long black hair, looking quite nervous. As she walks to quell her
nerves she hides in a fringe that looks like it would serve as a good escape
from the world. And all the people. The walls of the building look new and not
tired. The students do though.
10:52
An
older looking female carries a cup of coffee from the shop to her next
destination. A desperate balancing act between her drink and her bag occurs on
her arm muscles. The smell of food rings through the place and is enough to
make any stomach hungry. A hungry stomach grumbles. In the distance a young
black man is listening to music through earphones whilst carrying food, his
lunch. He has a broad smile which makes others in the room happy.
10:58
The two
view-blockers have left, leaving behind no rubbish however. They seem foreign
as the signs for food disposal don’t register with them straight away. A man in
a sharp blue suit walks by talking to a colleague of his and smiling, his
colleague smiles too. They look professional and walk through the room
seemingly unaware of others. They exit immediately.
A man
sits slurping an isotonic drink and wearing gym clothes, he does not look like
he has exercised though, more like he is making a point of looking sporty. He
glances over in a quizzical way and then loses interest. Another sporty man
walks by in a university hoodie and shorts. His backpack looks full of things,
spare clothes perhaps. A young lad stops him and asks a question but it is too
far away to hear anything. Maybe another lost person.
11:05
A group
of girls walk upstairs and are dressed in confusing clothes. They are carrying
props which would indicate a group of performers moving to their next show. The
traffic increases and queues start forming for food. A contrast of happy and
hungry can be seen on faces.
UPSTAIRS
11:10
The
people from below look tiny now and their voices sound tinier. The sound from
up here is less clear and mixed. The social activity levels are higher as the
floor gets higher. Across from the table there are 2 girls having a chat. Their
clothes suggest it is cold outside as do the faces of passers-by down below. 2
Asian girls leave their table but continue talking in their native language. No
one can understand them and that draws small glances of confusion.
11:30
The
large TV screen plays the national news as no one really watches. The news
reporter seems to be bored although it is the end of the week. The end of her
shift is near it seems. A young lady sits and stares emotionlessly at her
phone, messaging a friend or perhaps sending out thoughts to social media. She
smiles occasionally and looks around, waiting for someone. The empty seats all
around look sad. They will be filled soon. A long haired lad and his friend
walk towards a building and look confident. His friend must have just washed as
his hair looks wet and is blowing in the air.
Oliver James
