Derek Jarman chose Dungeness as a place to establish his garden. It is a singular environment. Everything you come across here (including the decommissioned nuclear power plant) seems to have been abandoned. The garden of the house neighbouring Jarman’s is composed mainly of flotsam, though various domestic items, like clothes-pegs have been used as well. Turning from this landscape of stones, ropes, winches and decaying sheds and vessels to look at the work artists like Paul Nash, Edward Wadsworth and others were doing in the 1930s, I sense that this is how Surrealism arrived in England: it floated across the Channel.
It’s also true that when a culture is exported strange things can happen in transit. The Australian Surrealists often took Salvador Dalí as their departure point with the result that their work seems at times to be programmatically Freudian. The desire to do it right, even in the realm of the classics could wrap things in a surreal mantle. This photograph (taken in the early 1920s) of my father and another boy dressed for a Shakespeare play at a small school in country Victoria takes on the strangeness of a photomontage.