Hither House
The respite from the rain experienced at Southfield House was short lived, as rain started increasing in intensity as we headed for Hither House. But we were settled into our cadence, looking forward in anticipation of the next stone house, being reminded of a past pilgrimage made along the El Camino de Santiago where churches on the hilltops mark the nearest town.
Entering Hither House, we were struck by the contrast between the light stone of the walls and the deep blackness of a ceiling constructed of wood charred by fire, suspended from which was another tree limb that ran the length of the room.
What was the message here: a tragedy untold but recognized, that all lives are charred by time and experience and that the only hope is to acknowledge such and move on, rebuilding a new life from the ashes, even here in this environment of wood and fire? Or was this an environmental statement: that nothing goes forgotten, that all can be reused and rebuilt, through need or hope?
We had purposely not read articles about what Goldsworthy had intended with each, so not to enter the environment with bias. But we were clearly working to understand what was going on here. Maybe it would have been best to be briefed, but the art was clearly prompting us to think things through.
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