#Penrhyndeudraeth

[theshatterednotes]

British philosopher, Nobel Prize laureate in 1950 and mentor to Ludwig Wittgenstein

[m-brico]

Penrhyndeudraeth

[myarchitectphil]

IDEAL CITIES

"I think that Beauty, The Strange Necessity - as Rebecca West once called it - is something that matters profoundly to humanity, and that unless the race of man perishes from the earth, it will increasingly value that Grace, will seek it, and will ultimately attain it." - Sir Clough Williams-Ellis

In 1925, Welsh architect Clough Williams-Ellis acquired the site which was to become Portmeirion: the Aber Iâ estate near Penrhyndeudraeth on the coast in Wales. He wanted to show how a naturally beautiful location could be developed without spoiling it, and that one could actually enhance the natural background through sympathetic development. The Aber Iâ estate had everything he had hoped for as a site for his architectural experiment: steep cliffs overlooking a wide sandy estuary, woods, streams and a nucleus of old buildings.

Portmeirion was built in two stages: from 1925 to 1939 the site was 'pegged-out' and its most distinctive buildings were erected. From 1954-76 he filled in the details. The second period was typically classical or Palladian in style in contrast to the Arts and Crafts style of his earlier work. Several buildings were salvaged from demolition sites, giving rise to Clough's description of the place as "a home for fallen buildings"

Susan Williams-Ellis, the elder daughter of Clough Williams-Ellis, was the founder of Portmeirion Pottery. Susan and her husband Euan Cooper-Willis began Portmeirion Pottery in 1960, perhaps at this point more well known than its namesake village.

[alphaman99]

[ FULL CITATION ]

"Children are instinctively hostile to anything ‘odd’ in other children, especially in the ages from ten to fifteen. If the authorities realize that this conventionality is undesirable, they can guard against it in various ways, and they can place the cleverer children in separate schools. The intolerance of eccentricity that I am speaking of is strongest in the stupidest children, who tend to regard the peculiar tastes of clever children as affording just grounds for persecution. When the authorities also are stupid (which may occur), they will tend to side with the stupid children, and acquiesce, at least tacitly, in rough treatment for those who show intelligence. In that case, a society will be produced in which all the important positions will be won by those whose stupidity enables them to please the herd.

Such a society will have corrupt politicians, ignorant schoolmasters, policemen who cannot catch criminals, and judges who condemn innocent men. Such a society, even if it inhabits a country full of natural wealth, will in the end grow poor from inhability to choose able men for important posts. Such a society, though it may prate of Liberty and even erect statues in her honour, will be a persecuting society, which will punish the very men whose ideas might save it from disaster.

All this will spring from the too intense pressure of the herd, first at school and then in the world at large. Where such excessive pressure exists, those who direct education are not, as a rule, aware that it is an evil; indeed, they are quite apt to welcome it as a force making for good behaviour."

— Bertrand Russell, The Basic Writings of Bertrand (1961), Part. XI The Philosopher of Politics Russell, 49. The Reconciliation of Individuality and Citizenship, p. 436

Image: Bertrand Russell (1872 - 1970) was a philosopher, mathematician, educational and sexual reformer, pacifist, prolific letter writer, author and columnist. Bertrand Russell was one of the most influential and widely known intellectual figures of the twentieth century. In 1950 he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature for his extensive contributions to world literature and for his "rationality and humanity, as a fearless champion of free speech and free thought in the West." Russell died of influenza at his home in Penrhyndeudraeth, Wales, United Kingdom 2 February 1970, where his ashes were scattered over the Welsh hills.

[bikepackinguk]

Day Seventy-nine

It's one hell of a windy day today! Storm Betty is rolling up the Irish Sea and there are weather warnings from Penzance up to Belfast, so today may be a little interesting.

For now, it's out from behind the shelter of a nice line of trees by Mynytho, and an easy start to the day with a roll downhill to join the A road at Llanbedrog.

The greenery lining the road is good shelter from the high winds, but means only fleeting views through to the waterside.

Down the road I have a short stop at Pwllheli for some supplies and to take in the marina, before carrying on eastward to get iff the peninsula. The road along continues to have a decent provision if cycle pathing adjacent to it, meaning some fairly stress-free riding out if the traffic.

Whilst the wind is making quite some noise through the trees, it's still a very warm and humid day, making for sweaty work as the road is slogged along.

Past some more great views across the bay ti the south, the road heads on through Criccieth and into Porthmadog. I'm treated to a beautiful view of a grey and shrouded Snowdonia to the north. There's also a lovely old traditional rail line here which has a payhway leading all the way alongside to cross Afon Glaslyn, which flows all the way down from the side of Yr Wyddfa.

Across the water, it's on through Penrhyndeudraeth to get onto the A496 to head on southwards. The hills of Eryri skirt the sea here which provide some good shelter from the winds for now, as the road leads through some dense forested routes.

Rounding the corner of a hill by Llanfair and suddenly the wind is able to howl round the road, feeling like a slap in the face as I meet it head on. There are aome lovely sights and stopping points along this stretch, but I'm having to just get my head down and slowly work my way along as the gusts get well into gake force levels.

Finally getting down to Barmouth, I have a bit of a break after the windy slog so far to enjoy the nice bay here from Afon Mawddach.

A push up the hill and it's over Barmouth Bridge, which being more exposed treats me to some ridiculous crosswinds. The wind is getting pretty serious!

Following the rail line, the route heads down to a nice little picnic area which provides a little more shelter, before heading on through an RSPB preserve area and then on to the A493.

Past Friog it's into the big climbs for today, as the coastal road rises up and up over the cliffs. It's some sweaty work heading up them, but the gradient isn't too severe, which is useful as the riads are narrow and getting off to push in this traffic would not be enjoyable!

The effort of the climb is nicely rewarded with a superb view back at the beach around Fairbourne, as well as some beautiful views of Llŷn over the water.

Afon Dysynni ahead means the road ahead cuts a little more inland once more, and I spy a good patch of forest whilst heading along which catches my eye.

The storm rains are forecast to start hitting within a few hours and not letting up until tomorrow is well underway, so I'm conscious that I need a good spot to hole up in today, and I shouldn't wait until it's too late to settle on one.

A quick bit of scouting later and I think this should provide a decent bit if cover to let the weather pass! It means an earlier finish to today than I was hoping, and a later start tomorrow, but the weather can't be helped!

TTFN!

[bremont]

(via (119) Roger Waters UN Address - Nov 29, 2012 - YouTube)

Bertrand Arthur William Russell, 3e comte Russell, né le 18 mai 1872 à Trellech (Monmouthshire) et mort le 2 février 1970 près de Penrhyndeudraeth (pays de Galles), est un mathématicien, logicien, philosophe, épistémologue, homme politique et moraliste britannique. Russell est considéré comme l'un des philosophes les plus importants du xxe siècle. Sa pensée peut être présentée selon trois grands axes : la logique, la philosophie analytique et l'éthique.

[philaretey]

IDEAL CITIES

"I think that Beauty, The Strange Necessity - as Rebecca West once called it - is something that matters profoundly to humanity, and that unless the race of man perishes from the earth, it will increasingly value that Grace, will seek it, and will ultimately attain it." - Sir Clough Williams-Ellis

In 1925, Welsh architect Clough Williams-Ellis acquired the site which was to become Portmeirion: the Aber Iâ estate near Penrhyndeudraeth on the coast in Wales. He wanted to show how a naturally beautiful location could be developed without spoiling it, and that one could actually enhance the natural background through sympathetic development. The Aber Iâ estate had everything he had hoped for as a site for his architectural experiment: steep cliffs overlooking a wide sandy estuary, woods, streams and a nucleus of old buildings.

Portmeirion was built in two stages: from 1925 to 1939 the site was 'pegged-out' and its most distinctive buildings were erected. From 1954-76 he filled in the details. The second period was typically classical or Palladian in style in contrast to the Arts and Crafts style of his earlier work. Several buildings were salvaged from demolition sites, giving rise to Clough's description of the place as "a home for fallen buildings"

Susan Williams-Ellis, the elder daughter of Clough Williams-Ellis, was the founder of Portmeirion Pottery. Susan and her husband Euan Cooper-Willis began Portmeirion Pottery in 1960, perhaps at this point more well known than its namesake village.

[downthetubes]

Behind the scenes on “The Prisoner” during filming at a very low tide on the Glaslyn Estuary, Penrhyndeudraeth in 1967. Photo via Propmasters, who have been pioneers in the world of movie prop collecting, serving the collector as a business since 1988 and the team led by David Oliver collecting privately prior to then.

Propmasters are currently seeking someone with good knowledge on how to decipher 1980s/90s BBC Television costume department wardrobe tag codes for help with costume identification. Contact them by email or DM via Facebook

Website Contact Page: https://www.propmasters.net/contactus.html

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Propmasters.net

[onetelenews]

Bertrand Russell, in full Bertrand Arthur William Russell, 3rd Earl Russell of Kingston Russell, Viscount Amberley of Amberley and of Ardsalla, (born May 18, 1872, Trelleck, Monmouthshire, Wales—died February 2, 1970, Penrhyndeudraeth, Merioneth), British philosopher, logician, and social reformer, founding figure in the analytic movement in Anglo-American philosophy, and recipient of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1950. Russell’s contributions to logic, epistemology, and the philosophy of mathematics established him as one of the foremost philosophers of the 20th century. 

[daniela--anna]

"The problem with humanity is that the stupid are overconfident, while the intelligent are full of doubts."

Bertrand Russell

Bertrand Arthur William Russell (Trellech, 18 May 18/72 – Penrhyndeudraeth, 2 February 19/70) was a British philosopher, logician, mathematician, activist and essayist.

#personages

"Il problema dell’umanità è che gli stupidi sono strasicuri, mentre gli intelligenti sono pieni di dubbi."

Bertrand Russell

Bertrand Arthur William Russell (Trellech, 18 maggio 18/72 – Penrhyndeudraeth, 2 febbraio 19/70) è stato un filosofo, logico, matematico, attivista e saggista britannico.

#personaggi

[uwandapieceofme]

Pathhead to Everywhere

I’ve been walking in circles for weeks, parched and disillusioned, hoping that pushing ’til I break might break me out of my cycles. I keep walking away from myself, attempting to take refuge in a bright-green past, air buzzing with little black dragonflies, only to find myself frozen, with that song in my ear, watching a man in orange lycra shirt and black bike shorts struggle up a hill.

The pavement’s all cracked and busted open, jolting little dip between parking lot of the petrol station and the road. It’s along these cracks I find a filthy twopence coin. Found two in a dried-out raised garden in Belfast, deformed with strange growths. Discovering loose change on my walks, no matter how disgusting and unusable, is always a happy occurrence, like I’ve stumbled upon some secret.

My leg hurts from all the walking, tendons strained behind my left knee, but I prefer the quiet roadside to the noisy bus, with its engine stuttering along, full of strangers, the driver asking my destination and demanding fare like some medieval gatekeeper I can never seem to please. I’ve replenished my energy with a picnic in the grass, outside a new housing block, and a limerick I’ve written for Sam Fender, mind running wild imagining how sending it on might lead to a tender friendship, a passionate love affair, or both.

Something about the country and the biker and the music I’m listening to inspires me. I pull out my phone and type a poem. It’s a happy moment, etched in my mind alongside the more painful bits. It’s not the only one, either. The picture, as a whole, is marred by anxiety, depression, loneliness, and shame, but when I zoom in, other positive moments come into focus.

On the upper landing of the Lit and Phil, I find respite, huddled in a corner with a pile of poetry books, scribbling away in my journal, observing others’ lives. At the Scottish National Gallery, I journal again, sat on a bench next to an art student reproducing a sketch of The Monarch of the Glen. I’m massively relieved to have found an escape from the social obligations of my hostel dorm and the crush of strange bodies along the Royal Mile. At the Surgeons’ Hall Museum, I examine rows upon rows of organs in glass jars, until my eyes can’t take any more; across the street, at the National Museum of Scotland, I stand in rapture as the Millennium Clock awakens and performs its hourly dance. A bottle of stout suffices for lunch in Portmeirion; I drink it slowly at a cafe table on the patio, near two men sharing a bottle of champagne. In Penrhyndeudraeth, I pull cash from a shady ATM to buy my first ever kebab, walking back to my hotel, triumphantly clutching my spoils.

Bangor provides romantic trails among hillsides blooming with bellflowers, and I spend a whole day exploring Church Island and the surrounding countryside, getting lost along the beaches and sinking into muck, pissing in any shady corner I can find, procuring groceries on the way back from the cleanest, happiest Waitrose I’ve ever shopped in. Aberystwyth offers the best chocolate cake and almond croissants, and I relax somewhat uncomfortably into my seat at a Korean restaurant in Coventry, knocking back soju and spooning up mouthfuls of spicy seafood soup as I listen to a couple on their first date at a table across from me, discussing cybersecurity.

I contrast my pleasant roadside trek from Pathhead to Dalkeith, where I observe the lonely biker, with a five mile trek I undertook from my accommodations in Newcastle to a business park on the outskirts of Gateshead. Green fields were replaced with rows of tidy brick townhouses and a steady stream of cars which carried on past me, subjecting me to their ever-watchful gaze. I looked into every passenger window, imagining he might be there. I dreamt of him stopping and offering me a ride. I’d tell him the story of who I was and how I’d come to be there; he’d commend me for my bravery. That was all I really wanted, for my troubles. Someone to tell me I’d done something cool or worthwhile, to notice the effort I’d put in, how much I’d improved. But no one ever did, and knowing it in myself simply wasn’t enough.

I’m happy to retread my past, in moments like now, where I feel totally fucked. At least in the recounting, I find some worth, and it removes me, for a minute, from my current obsessions over job, money, and future plans. However it felt then, I’m happy to have done it, that I can occasionally escape to those far-flung memories and enjoy the strange, painful pleasures of a foreign land.

[ravens-cove]

Portmeirion, Penrhyndeudraeth, North Wales

photo credit @darthsosara666 (please do not remove credit)

[jollysportingbear]

Dwyryd estuary by Andrew Kearton

[lovingtheuk]

Plas Brondanw by David Biggins Via Flickr: Orangery

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Bertrand Russell (1872 - 1970) was a philosopher, mathematician, educational and sexual reformer, pacifist, prolific letter writer, author and columnist. Bertrand Russell was one of the most influential and widely known intellectual figures of the twentieth century. In 1950 he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature for his extensive contributions to world literature and for his "rationality and humanity, as a fearless champion of free speech and free thought in the West." Russell died at his home in Penrhyndeudraeth, Wales, United Kingdom on 2nd February 1970, where his ashes were scattered over the Welsh hills.

* * * *

“When you hate, you generate a reciprocal hate. When individuals hate each other, the harm is finite; but when great groups of nations hate each other, the harm may be infinite and absolute. Do not fall back upon the thought that those whom you hate deserve to be hated. I do not know whether anybody deserves to be hated, but I do know that hatred of those whom we believe to be evil is not what will redeem mankind.” — Bertrand Russell, Human Society in Ethics and Politics (1954), Part I: Ethics, Ch. 6, Scientific Technique and the Future, p. 271

[Bertrand Russell]

[findamericanrentals]

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