The link to the ‘Angel of North’ statue in my last journey
reminded me that there was in the Valleys an angel statue in Bargoed. My plan
was to park the car at Pengam and cycle through ‘Parc Coetir Bargod’, the country park landscaped
over the sites of the Gilfach,
Bargoed and Britannia collieries
and of course the famous record-breaking tip painted by Lowry. I wanted to be
certain of the route and so I did some wanderings on the Internet and looking
up some history of these collieries. I knew there had been a power station in
this place, so I put into Google, ‘Bargoed power station’ and to my surprise I
discovered that there is a highly respected black and white photograph of its cooling towers by Bernd and Hilla Becher. These German photographers took pictures of
industrial architecture throughout Europe.
Their work has artistic appeal as well as being a record of large
structures that were built when industry was more widespread and they point to
an age now gone. Certainly ‘Cooling Towers,
"Bargoed" Power Station’ is of a time well past for this area. This
photograph is indeed internationally well known and amongst those images of the
Bechers’ work that are critically acclaimed. It was taken when they visited
South Wales in 1966 and is the chosen image on the front cover
of their book ‘Cooling Towers’ (2006); a volume which is of course available
from Amazon but rather overpriced for my pocket.
Copies of the photo are placed
in galleries around the world and can be found, for example, in the J Paul
Getty Museum, Los Angeles, California; the Harvard Museum, Cambridge
Massachusetts; the Moderna Museet, Stockholm; the Museum of New Zealand in
Wellington and of course in the V&A London. Bargoed gets around a bit. For
all its fame, surprisingly, the existence of the particular image is not well recorded
on local sites.
As I peer at old photographs, it looks to me as if the towers
were located near the railway line between
Gilfach Fargoed and Bargoed but
I know that there are no remnants or recollections to be found on the ground. I
returned to my route making exercise leaving the power station memories
scattered through the Internet and the images on walls a long way from Bargoed.
Despite
my planning, my cycle ride begins all too quickly with a wrong turn. I end up
pedalling hard up a steep hill almost going back on myself. Then establishing
the route to Bargoed from a by-passer I have to carry my bike up a long flight
of steps. Eventually, hot and bothered, I arrived on the valley floor following
the river upstream. The man-made terraces, built in an effort to put something
right with nature start from the valley bottom, then there is a cycling/walking
path, then the railway line to Rhymney, a road bridge and then on top of the valley
side is the dominant sight of the Morrison’s supermarket - green and yellow sign
glowing in the sun. No German photographers to record this construction.
Cycling up the valley side it's a steep pull to the road. Then a daffodil appears,
very large and very yellow metallic looking.
It is placed in a car park and questioningly
overlooks the railway line and the bus station. I take some photographs and
cycle the short distance to the end of High Street and to the Angel.
It is a metallic
statue made with golden steel staves, standing upright at the end of a road and
looking as if it is waiting for a bus.
It is not in a prominent spot. It does
not look up the road or oversee the Valley. It just looks across the road to a
chip shop, holding its hands out in succour to the customers. By some creative
framing, a photo can be taken in which an ‘Angel of the North’ type image
appears widely bestowing its blessing over the surrounding country.
But, this
is not Angel of the North, it is an not an imposing statue. It does not have
the dominance that the industrial structures of recent past history held. It is
a tall angel, waiting for a bus, in front of a car park, with a chapel and war
memorial in the background and the Cosy Fish Bar opposite. Contemplating this, in
typical fashion, I find refreshment in Rossi's just up the road and order
coffee and a bacon sandwich.
In the cafe, there are some daffodils in table vases
with a more pleasing look than the nearby transport overseeing work of art.
A conversation begins
about comings and goings. A man speaks about the visits of his adult children
who come, spend time with friends, go shopping in Cardiff only then to the
leave. Disappointedly he says, “They may as well not come.” The lady behind the
counter smiles at me and then at him. “But it's touching base, even if they are
a long way from here. At least it's giving recognition to where they come from
and where you are.” He shrugs his shoulders.
I leave the café and
cross the road. I take some photographs of the ornate iron fence, ‘Emporium Windows’,
which is in front of the odd shaped flatiron building, once a department store
and now looking for both a purpose and a new owner. At one time, a clock
adorned the top of the building but that with its business has long since gone.
In remembrance of past functions the fence is supplemented by a cast iron clock
face now permanently fixing time.
The fence was constructed by the same
sculptor that created the Angel and the Daffodils; Malcolm Robertson a Scotsman
who has lots of statues placed in Florida. Now that's a million miles from here.
Perhaps the placement of the Daffodil
and the bus waiting Angel is to point to the means of our leaving.
I return to the Angel,
in a different frame of mind. I can see that it stands grounded with a secure
solidity, naturally rooted and nourished just in this spot. It is firmly and most definitely where it is.
It has an openness as if it is saying, “Here we are.” No coming or going. It
may be in front of a car park watching people leave the chip shop, but this is an
angel that offers us a different way of returning home.
 |
| shunning the prospect of adoration the angel here stands |
My return bike journey
is now thankfully downhill, past the over-large daffodil, past the now gone,
tips, pits and cooling towers and onto our home where I hopefully always
recognise the presence of the Angel.
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