Overzero - the chess game overzero


the end

the beginning

own goal
sign of the times
the virtual ideal
face value
a flying fox
all change
the chess game
sunrise twice
face of god

The Chess Game.jpg

Riding the overcurrent, I spent the day walking along the river photographing reflections of different
sources of power and wealth that have influenced our lives over the past centuries. From the docks
and the battleships to the City and then Westminster, our history seemed to be conveniently
presented for inspection along the banks of the Thames.

My journey ended a little further upstream by the MI6 headquarters, a furtive ziggurat skulking
behind a huddle of mediocre offices and overshadowed by the Tate gallery's stealth pier.
It had obviously been built to impress, though in a self-effacing way, for nothing declared
its function or tenancy other than its anonymity.

Between its impenetrable facade and the river there was a well defined walkway, but nobody
walked there. Passers-by would be tolerated, but not welcomed or encouraged. Their presence
was only required to give the impression of accessibility, normality, relevance. The paving was
laid out in a way that suggested a new variant form of chess, a game in which all participants
had different, but equally valid agendas and consequent interpretations of the rules.

The cameras pretended not to notice me as I leaned against the railings smoking a cigarette.
Looking back down the river the pieces fell into place. For a brief moment I understood the game's
subtlety and allowed myself to approve. Here I stood, by the nerve centre of the new order,
aware only of stillness. I wondered what the next move would be. I wondered why I felt strangely calm.
I wondered why I felt at peace.