This month's Pylon is different for all kinds of reasons as I am sure all but the most unobservant of readers will have already have spotted. After quite a few years of real pylons that you could actually go and visit if you were so inclined, that might prove more diffcult this month. I have also kept the contributors to the website anonymous, but this month I'm happy to report that the pylon is tattooed on the arm of Karol Michalec from Brighton (as always, click on the photo for a larger version). You can find out more at his website. Although if you do go down to East Sussex to visit Karol, you could also visit the Patcham pylon that I mentioned only last month. I've never really been tempted by body art myself, although as I'm due a mid-life crisis perhaps I should pre-empt it and visit my local tattoo parlour. If I did, I'd be very tempted by a bubble chamber tattoo, although perhaps this equation for the momentum/position version of Heisenberg's uncertainty principle might be a bit more understated and stylish?
Anyway, the other bit of pylon news this month relates to a book, The Beauty of Electricity Pylons in the Dutch Landscape, that I mentioned back in November 2009 after it featured in Alain De Botton's fantastic book, The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work. One of the authors of the Dutch book (Anne Mieker Backer) has got in touch and so I now know that is published by De Hef in Rotterdam. So if you are looking for an unusual Christmas or birthday present for a Dutch speaking friend or family member then your search is over. Full details here.
Happy New Year to pylon fans everywhere. After a Christmas break where I failed to get any pylon pictures with accompanying snow and ice I decided to start 2011 with this rather marvellous image taken by a pylon fan very close to Radley, a few miles outside Oxford.
I like it on a purely visual level and if all you want from Pylon of the Month is a chance to look at pictures of pylons then you might want to stop reading now. ......
because the picture could also be seen as a metaphor for what some see as the battle between science and the arts. I probably need to explain in a little more detail! As I discussed in a recent post, pylons are frequently seen as the all to obvious symbols of technology riding roughshod over aesthetic and environmental concerns. It was Keats who first used the rainbow in the argument between the arts and science when he accused Newton of destroying its beauty by explaining it. It inspired Richard Dawkins to write 'Unweaving the Rainbow' which argues that understanding actually enhances our appreciation of the beauty rather than destroying it and I'm with him on this one. Richard Feynman, one of my scientific heroes, also had this to say on the subject:
Poets say science takes away from the beauty of the stars — mere globs of gas atoms. Nothing is "mere". I too can see the stars on a desert night, and feel them. But do I see less or more? The vastness of the heavens stretches my imagination — stuck on this carousel my little eye can catch one-million-year-old light. A vast pattern — of which I am a part... What is the pattern or the meaning or the why? It does not do harm to the mystery to know a little more about it. For far more marvelous is the truth than any artists of the past imagined it. Why do the poets of the present not speak of it? What men are poets who can speak of Jupiter if he were a man, but if he is an immense spinning sphere of methane and ammonia must be silent?
So if you want to appreciate this month's pylon picture on a deeper level, then for more on the origin and background to Keat's comments, I can't recommend Richard Holme's book, 'The Age of Wonder' too highly. Prior to this book, he was better known as a biographer of Romantic poets but this is an excellent account of the close interplay between science and the arts in the 18th and early 19th centuries. For an account of the physics behind rainbows, here would be a good starting point.
As December looms, I thought I would mention a book that pylon fans could add to their Christmas list. The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work by Alain De Botton has a whole chapter (called Transmission Engineering) dedicated to pylons. The author and a member of the Pylon Appreciation Society follow a pylon line from the nuclear power plant in Dungeness all the way to Canning Town whilst musing on life, work and other subjects. It is really is an excellent book. One section particularly caught my eye. It refers to a book (originally published in Dutch although I can find no reference to it) called The Beauty of Electricity Pylons in the Dutch Landscape by Anne Mieke Backer and Arij de Boode. They make the case for appreciating the beauty of pylons and apparently note that windmills were as unpopular once as pylons are now. They were occasionally burnt to the ground and denounced from pulpits before the painters of the Dutch Golden Age started including them in their landscapes thereby contributing to their acceptance. Perhaps the same will be true for pylons in the future.