‘Penn an Wlas’ is Cornish for ‘end of the land’. The peninsula of West Penwith is surrounded by rugged granite cliff tops on all three sides, the Atlantic Ocean seemingly closes in on it. Each town, cove and clifftop entertains their own story. These stories are known almost exclusively by word of mouth, passed down through generations.
Cornwall’s character descends from mining, fishing or farming, trades which are fading before our eyes. The Cornish language and dialect wanes like the eroding clifftops. Slowly at first, but soon enough, all at once without anyone noticing. The once rich Celtic Cornish identity runs the risk of being forgotten except for that which is etched into the landscape and demands to be seen. These etchings exist as scars on the coast, they represent a time of wealth and prosperity. Stone circles and ruins from ancient times sit stridently in the fields, confident reminders of all the lives that were once present here. The images are a showcase of the subtle wounds on the landscape, combined with portraits of local Cornishmen that contribute to the large and loud personality that makes Cornwall what it is today.
