<![CDATA[AberBespokeArt]]>

<![CDATA[AberBespokeArt]]>https://aberbespokeart.substack.comhttps://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!nVR1!,w_256,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fcd016114-dfcd-4d21-82f1-121386515280_1024x1024.pngAberBespokeArthttps://aberbespokeart.substack.comSubstackSat, 04 Apr 2026 11:13:49 GMT<![CDATA[Anglesey Barracks in the Snow]]>https://aberbespokeart.substack.com/p/anglesey-barracks-in-the-snowhttps://aberbespokeart.substack.com/p/anglesey-barracks-in-the-snowTue, 27 Jan 2026 10:01:03 GMTI’ve visited the Anglesey Barracks in Dinorwig many times (& have written before here), but this winter was the first time I climbed up to them in the snow. The cold changes everything: it changes the interaction of tourists, enhances the lines of the roofless terraces, alters the landscape, and brings the sheer exposure of the place into focus (the exposure was hard to compensate for). This visit made the history of the barracks feel even more immediate — a reminder of the men who lived and worked here in conditions far harsher than any winter walk could replicate. For non-UK readers, our National Parks are shared spaces, open to contestation; places of work, farming, living, and tourism, with my experience of living here being shaped by all these. In Wales, rural spaces such as this are alive with Cymraeg (Welsh language) too.

The Anglesey Barracks terraces under snow, both rows facing with mountains behind.

A Harsh Home in a Harsh Landscape

The Anglesey Barracks were built as accommodation for travelling quarrymen who worked at the vast Dinorwig Slate Quarry, once the second‑largest producer of slate in the world. Many workers came from Anglesey, hence the name, commuting weekly rather than daily to this exposed hillside above Llanberis.

The barracks consisted of two rows of 11 granite cottages, each split into two tiny rooms with little protection against the weather. The living conditions were notoriously poor: cramped, cold, drafty, lacking sanitation, and shared by groups of men who stayed here during the working week. By 1937, the council condemned the buildings as unfit for living in. The quarry itself closed in 1969, leaving behind a monumental industrial landscape.

Four young lads enjoying the location. All speaking Cymraeg

Walking the Ruins in Winter

Seeing the barracks under snow adds something new. The white ground highlights the layout of the terraces, making the long row of doorways and dividing walls stand out. It also makes the exposure of the site impossible to ignore. These cottages sit around 600 metres above sea level, built directly into the quarry landscape — a brutally inhospitable environment for a weekday home. Even in snow, you can still see the domestic traces: the hearths, the faint boundary lines, the slight tilt of walls that have survived decades of abandonment.

The UNESCO Landscape Surrounding the Barracks

The barracks are part of a much larger story. Dinorwig Quarry contributes to the Slate Landscape of Northwest Wales, which gained UNESCO World Heritage status in 2021 for its 1,800‑year mining history, cultural significance, and unique industrial landscape. From the terraces, you can look down toward Llyn Padarn and up toward Yr Wyddfa. Unlike the neat paths and visitor centres associated with Snowdon’s summit routes, this side of the valley shows the industrial Wales that shaped modern North‑West Wales: slate tips, inclines, tramways, and the remains of workshops and galleries that once employed thousands (see video).

Quarry levels, slate tips, and Llyn Peris.

Tourism Today: Raw, Unmanaged, and Honest

Despite its harshness, the barracks attract visitors year‑round. Many reach them via the National Slate Museum in Llanberis, a shorter but steeper walk that rewards you quickly with the full view of the terraces. I tend to enter from the nearby village of Deiniolen. Part of the site’s appeal lies in the fact that it hasn’t been polished for tourism. There aren’t many fences, interpretive boards, or curated experiences. The buildings are left as they are — open, raw, and completely honest about their past.

Looking down between the cottages.

Why I Keep Returning

Anglesey Barracks is one of the most compelling places in North Wales: a physical reminder of working‑class history and a landmark in a landscape shaped as much by human effort as by geology.

If you have found this interesting, please support me to deliver more just like this. Please consider supporting my writing by subscribing. Piad subscribers get enhanced features, can join the subscriber chat forum and receive a calendar each year of a collection of my works. I also run another blog ThatSociologist (Dr Dave Beck) where I discuss social sciences, politics and social policy. Please follow this too!

Thanks for walking with me. More soon.

Thanks for reading AberBespokeArt! This post is public so feel free to share it.

]]><![CDATA[Lôn Las Ogwen in the Snow]]>https://aberbespokeart.substack.com/p/lon-las-ogwen-in-the-snowhttps://aberbespokeart.substack.com/p/lon-las-ogwen-in-the-snowTue, 20 Jan 2026 10:00:41 GMTWith the trimester and marking over, the Christmas break allowed me some much-needed time to dig out my camera again and wander around Gwynedd with Jessie, the next phase of Aber Bespoke Art. With a fresh year ahead, I’ve been mapping out photography trips across north Wales, places rich in social history, environmental textures, and stories that lend themselves beautifully to socially engaged photography.

Over the coming weeks and months, I will begin sharing these new visual journeys. This post is the first in that series.

And it begins on a snowy morning on Lôn Las Ogwen, one of north Wales’ most evocative multi‑use trails, my usual walking place with Jessie, a route shaped by slate, industry, community, and landscape.

Walking Lôn Las Ogwen in the Snow

My walk started at Porth Penrhyn, Bangor, where the trail begins by following the Afon Cegin southwards into the valley. Historically, this harbour was the major export point for slate from Penrhyn Quarry, once the largest slate quarry in the world at the end of the 19th century. I have written previously (as ThatSociologist) about the decisive history of Penrhyn, the horrible history of how this one family extracted from both the local Welsh population via the slate industry, and the populations in the Caribbean, and the sugar plantations.

Dr Dave Beck (ThatSociologist)

The Land of Penrhyn:

Today’s blog is a combination of both my Sociology and Photography work - Enjoy…

6 months ago · 1 like · Dr Dave Beck (ThatSociologist)

From this coastal beginning, the trail runs along the bed of the old Penrhyn Quarry Railway, a narrow‑gauge line which originally opened in the early 19th Century and carried slate from the quarries at Bethesda to the port. The section between Porth Penrhyn and Glasinfryn was developed in the 1980s and runs behind my house in Maesgeirchen.

Castell Penrhyn from Lôn Pobty

Geography of the Route

Lôn Las Ogwen is a 17.7 km route running south from the coast at Porth Penrhyn to Llyn Ogwen in the Eryri mountains. It’s a route that carries you from coastal estuary to mountain foothills, with the Carneddau and Glyderau ranges rising up to frame the landscape as you head towards the uplands.

Gateway from Cwm Idwal

My walk on this snowy day covered the lower portion, from Porth Penrhyn up to Pandy’s in Tregarth, a stretch full of historical touchpoints and rural scenes deeply embedded in local identity.

Historic Waymarks Along the Trail

Along this early section, several locations stood out, some familiar, some transformed by the snowfall:

Glasinfryn Viaduct

The Glasinfryn Viaduct, built around 1880 to carry the former Bangor–Bethesda railway across the deep valley of the Afon Cegin, now stands as a beautifully curved, eight‑arched stone structure just east of the village of Glasinfryn and serves as part of today’s footpath network. Its Grade II listing reflects its significance as an excellent example of Victorian railway engineering, particularly its distinctive 120‑metre curve and striking mix of stone and blue‑brick construction.

Glasinfryn Viaduct (and video at the top of the page)

Farming Scenes Beyond Glasinfryn

Moving up‑valley, fields opened out into long straight stretches toward Tregarth. Even under a blanket of snow, slate fencing, barns, and smallholdings spoke to the agricultural rhythms of the area—rhythms long interwoven with the slate industry that shaped these communities.

Farmig in Glasinfryn

Snowfall Deepening Near Tregarth

By the time I reached the section around Pandy’s, the snow had deepened significantly. The trail—usually a gentle, steady climb—was really hevy snow fall.

Near Pandy’s

As you can see, the snow in Tregarth was much deeper than the snow lower down the valley in Bangor. This part of the walk was pretty awesome, as I don’t think we have really seen snow like this for years!

What Comes Next for Aber Bespoke Art

Over the next few weeks & months, I’ll begin sharing the photographs from this and other walks, such as my visit back (again) to one of my favourite places to go, Dinorwig and the Angesley Barracks.

Angelesy Barracks, Dinorwig

This will be the first visual instalment of the year as Aber Bespoke Art pivots toward more regular, socially engaged photographic storytelling. If you have found this interesting, please support me to deliver more just like this. Please consider supporting my writing by subscribing. Piad subscribers get enhanced features, can join the subscriber chat forum and receive a calendar each year of a collection of my works. I also run another blog ThatSociologist (Dr Dave Beck) where I discuss social sciences, politics and social policy. Please follow this too!

Thanks for walking with me. More soon.

]]><![CDATA[Pre-Christmas Winter in Ogwen]]>https://aberbespokeart.substack.com/p/pre-christmas-winter-in-ogwenhttps://aberbespokeart.substack.com/p/pre-christmas-winter-in-ogwenSun, 18 Jan 2026 15:04:24 GMTBefore Christmas, I spent the day walking around Llyn Ogwen with my camera (no Jessie today). Apart from it being feckin freezin, the thing that struck me most was how quiet it was. The mountains were covered in snow (not ready for the snow that was about to come late December!), and Tryfan looked scary as I watched walkers set off up (it has a pretty jagged edge), and the Glyderau range behind it was just as impressive.

It wasn’t even December (yet), but the air was cold and clear, and Llyn Ogwen was really still. Walking along the Llyn by the A5 and watching people walking up the side of Tryfan was where I started.

After this, I didn’t really have a plan, but I knew I needed to go up, so I headed towards Cwm Idwal. Snow makes you look at the landscape differently. It hides some things and highlights others. I found the contrast in the above picture (taken from the A5) of the YHA pretty cool: white snow against the dark rock.

But, as you ascend, the views open up into some of the most spectacular across the whole region. A reminder, however, as is normal with National Parks in the UK, these places have multiple uses; they are spaces of outstanding natural beauty that draw in tourists, yes, but they are also home to people, farming, and that’s just a few aspects when viewed anthropocentrically. They are obvious spaces of anthropocentric contention: erosion, over-tourism, over-farming, all exploitation. I’m part of this.

Going up the mountain, heading towards Cwm Idwal, the views get amazing! Here, the Gateway centres the might of the mountains, but reminds you that this is also a space for tourism and recreation. Paths laid & user-friendly.

If you have found this interesting, please support me to deliver more just like this. Please consider supporting my writing by subscribing. Piad subscribers get enhanced features, can join the subscriber chat forum, and receive a calendar each year of a collection of my works. I also run another blog, ThatSociologist (Dr Dave Beck), where I discuss social sciences, politics, and social policy. Please follow this too!

Thanks for walking with me. More soon.

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]]><![CDATA[Join my new subscriber chat]]>https://aberbespokeart.substack.com/p/join-my-new-subscriber-chathttps://aberbespokeart.substack.com/p/join-my-new-subscriber-chatSun, 16 Nov 2025 12:16:33 GMTSubscribe now

Today I’m announcing a brand new addition to my Substack publication: AberBespokeArt subscriber chat.

This is a conversation space exclusively for subscribers—kind of like a group chat or live hangout. I’ll post questions and updates that come my way, and you can jump into the discussion.

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Get the Substack app by clicking this link or the button below. New chat threads won’t be sent sent via email, so turn on push notifications so you don’t miss conversation as it happens. You can also access chat on the web.

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Open the app and tap the Chat icon. It looks like two bubbles in the bottom bar, and you’ll see a row for my chat inside.

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]]><![CDATA[Welcome to Aber Bespoke Art]]>https://aberbespokeart.substack.com/p/welcome-to-aber-bespoke-arthttps://aberbespokeart.substack.com/p/welcome-to-aber-bespoke-artTue, 04 Nov 2025 10:06:19 GMTWelcome to the very first post of Aber Bespoke Art — a space where photography meets social science, and where images tell stories that words alone cannot.

I’m Dave Beck, a social scientist and photographer based in Wales. You may know me from my other Substack, That Sociologist, where I explore the intersections of policy, inequality, and everyday life. Aber Bespoke Art is a new venture — a visual companion to my academic and written work, but with its own distinct voice and rhythm.

This blog is dedicated to socially engaged photography — images that document, question, and reflect the world we live in. From the post-industrial landscapes of North Wales to the quiet resilience of communities navigating change, my aim is to capture moments that provoke thought, emotion, and dialogue.

In the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing photo essays, behind-the-scenes insights, and reflections on the ethics and aesthetics of visual storytelling. Expect ruins, resistance, beauty, and the politics of place — all through the lens of a social scientist with a camera.

If you’re interested in how art can challenge narratives, illuminate injustice, or simply offer a new way of seeing, I’d love for you to subscribe and join the conversation.

Thank you for being here at the beginning.

Warmly,
David

]]><![CDATA[Coming soon]]>https://aberbespokeart.substack.com/p/coming-soonhttps://aberbespokeart.substack.com/p/coming-soonMon, 03 Nov 2025 14:52:37 GMTThis is AberBespokeArt.

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