Lewis Jones: Photograph Geoff Young
When we were children, my father Lewis used to send us off on our favourite beach in Criccieth to find 2 identical stones. I believed it possible and ran about the place searching – because as a girl with 20/20 vision I thought I could ‘see’! Then having found what I was after, I’d place the stones in my father’s hands, satisfied as I watched and waited eagerly for the verdict. Time seemed to stand still as he explored, turned and held the stones in his hands. I felt both impatient and fascinated, as part of me surveyed the beach planning my next stone hunt, whilst noticing that his pace had slowed and the stone had become very very still….Then I could see a smile break across his face as he spoke:
“I can feel a rough patch – there – on this one” and “notice, there is an indent on that one”.
Then I’d look again and question, because I was sure there had been no difference between the stones. Then he’d encourage me to hold one stone then the other with my eyes closed, and I’d search with my hands….sure enough, there was the indent, and yes, I could feel that rough patch clearly now. Feeling a little down hearted I’d then try to pin him down to choose the ‘best’ one. But my father seemed to find interest and beauty in each and every stone we found, and often in the stones that seemed the least remarkable. My eyes weren’t a match for my father’s hands. He ‘saw’ something that I couldn’t see;
like people – there are no identical stones in the world
like stones – people are ‘equal’ to one another
Every day for about 30 years, Lewis held one particular stone which turned from grey to shiny black in his hands. He says that it acts like a kind of mantra, enabling him to access his imagination; an ever increasing sense of inner space and connection with humanity.
My father believed in, and stayed with the moment; somehow entering a parallel time frame to my own. Perceptions were slowed down, enabling him to ‘sense‘ things that couldn’t be summed up and rejected like I had done in a momentary glance. Yet it seems as though such qualities are rare and undervalued in society today, and in the process of art making.
Isabel Jones 2010
“For many people, touch is a menial thing near the bottom of the hierarchy of senses. This attitude prevents us from creating things as deaf blind people”.
Lewis Jones 1992
Bonnington Gallery 1990: our company is born with 50/50 blind, visually impaired & sighted people
Eye Contact 1995: our company continues with 50/50 Blind / visually Impaired people. Lewis, Rachel, Isabel, Keith, Geoff, James, Mike and Liam pictured here en route to the South Bank Centre: Photograph Geoff Young
Salamanda Tandem: how the name arrived
In 1988 a few months before the idea of salamanda tandem came about we arrived at Mount St Helens; located in Washington in the Pacific Northwest region of America. 8 years earlier this volcanic mountain had erupted, transforming millions of acres of beautiful forest into a virtual desert. Charred trunks ran on for as far as the eye could see; like the kind of black stubble on an unshaven chin. The place was deathly quiet. We’d been camping wild for 2 months or so along the west coast and I’d become used to hearing birds and insects all around. Nothing here, but the sound of ones own breath, and a few tourists scattered in the car park. I’d arrived with a fare amount of noise going on in my head; a narrow escape from drowning in the deep waters at Big Sur, an unhappy travel companion and exhausted from 4 years of full time music making in a special school for children on the autistic spectrum. I felt a desire to put things right and a fear of being alone in this burnt and hostile landscape. Thus, wandering off the path into the wilderness it was a relief when we came across a pond and a small amount of greenery. At first the water looked still and then a movement flickered in the shallow waters below. A sign nearby suggested we took care – salamander’s were breading -these newt like creatures were the first living things visible in the place after all forms of life had been destroyed following the volcanic eruption.
The salamander has a remarkable ability; it is capable of regenerating the loss of parts of its body through a process that involves simplifying the cells at the amputation site in order to re grow. This process is called de-differentiation – a process by which re-growth can happen, like seen in a worm when a spade accidentally cuts through it when we dig our soil.
Captivated by this idea of regeneration and survival through a kind of distillation, the first half of the name salamanda (tandem) arrived. On returning home our family were loaned a ‘tandem ‘bicycle by the local blind institute, as my father had dreamt of a fast journey down hill where an equal partnership of two could generate the necessary momentum for him to feel the wind in his ears. Once on the tandem Isabel and Lewis set off, seeing a hill ahead and feeling very wobbly Isabel began to loose nerve, and wondered if they would ever make it, but Lewis not seeing the hill ahead and full of joy for the movement and air, powered on, and it was this that (not Isabel’s sight) that got them there.
Lewis Jones performing in Sound Round Robin 1991 & with the company in 1995
After a 30 year old journey of navigation through uncharted territory – we have come to understand that in the name ‘salamanda tandem’ are symbols of ingenuity, survival, resistance, regeneration, equality, and momentum, found through drilling down to a few essential properties that support growth and change to happen.
These are some of the qualities are essential for all our survival!
