St. Ives …. a tale of two towns
On Saturday, we headed down into St. Ives. I’ve only ever popped in for a short visit once before, just to the Tate, and although Matt had discussed with me before his dismay about what has happened to the town he knew as a young man, I wasn’t really prepared. St. Ives is BUSY; busy with tourist trappings and everything that goes with it. It’s a difficult balance, and on closer inspection, yes, the town still has the shops that the people who live there need, but it also has what I reckon is far too many galleries. Rather posh galleries, where the price of the work in there is massively inflated. I really liked St. Ives, but it made me feel bad about myself, and knocked my confidence in my own work. I did see some amazing work, and it seemed to be in galleries out of town, or displaying work by the gallery holders. What an argument was happening inside my head as we wandered the streets!
Out of town, down the many many nooks, crannies, ginnels and brues, St. Ives becomes its older self, and there are still quite a few peaceful and pleasantly crooked, un-“restored” corners of this late fishing port. Calm descends once again….. except for the gulls.