Last weekend I finally climbed the hill behind Sheffield train station and saw British Modern Remade in the Park Hill Estate. Met a Creative practitioner colleague from Hepworth and swooshed upwards in the lift to the 12th floor to see painting, sculpture and collage (missed the film bit...) from the Arts Council Collection. Felt like an intruder as we snooped around the empty flats oohing at stripped back surfaces and smooth sliding doors. The view of Sheffield was astonishing: nestled between tree covered hills, the city laid out like an architects model. And of course there was the art, beautifully staged and appearing as if it had always existed within the space. The work mirrored the permanent collect at The Hepworth Wakefield, and one of the sculptures will be winging its way to the gallery from this show.
I'm on the brink of leaving Sheffield and returning to my pined for London, city of my birth that has invisible threads tugging and pulling me back. To see Sheffield laid before me reaffirmed how little I know of this place and I'm looking forward to returning as a visitor, with time to take in, be in and explore this city.
My colleague/friend Liz then took me to Sheffield Museum for a treat of tea and cake, so all in all this leaving lark has its benefits!
I'm very glad I moved to Sheffield, I'm leaving with different understandings that wouldn't have been gained if i'd not taken the plunge and I'll carry this knowledge into the next chapter. I've also gained a brace of Yorkshire friends who will provide their own threads to draw me back in the future.
