Mount // Peradam
Peradam started out as part of Mount Art Services, named after René Daumal’s unfinished novella “Mount Analogue”. In this article I go into the story of how I got to be where I am, and the meaning behind Mount’s name, and my new identity “Peradam.”
Mount Art Services was co-founded by me and my partner, Simon in 2015. Our name was inspired by our darkroom technician at The Arts Institute at Bournemouth, Gareth. He taught us to “go over the mountain” when altering the values of cyan/ magenta/ yellow to achieve a neutral photographic print. If a print had a green colour cast, we had to add enough magenta to get a magenta cast and then work back towards towards green until reaching neutral (the peak of the mountain). I stick to this rule when I’m colour-matching prints to original artworks.
We applied this rule to many aspects of our business, pushing beyond where we think the peak is so that we know the extremes of our limitations. That’s still the case for me now, even though I’ve simplified what I’m doing.
There is a similar message in the unfinished novella “Mount Analogue” by René Daumal. This novel has stayed with me for years after I first read it, and I like to apply its philosophy to my life.
“What is above knows what is below, what is below does not know what is above… there is an art to finding your way in the lower regions by the memory of what you have seen when you were higher up. When you can no longer see you can at least still know”
The novel describes an expedition undertaken by a group of mountaineers to climb Mount Analogue, a mountain island inaccessible to the outside world which can only be found by the application of obscure knowledge. Climbers must adhere to a complex system of regulations involving professional guides, porters, and a network of camps, and are punished for causing any disturbance to the mountain's delicate ecology.
The novel marks the first use of the word "peradam" in literature, an object that is revealed only to those who seek it.
I thought of Mount Art Services as a mountain we were scaling. There were many set-backs as we forged our path up, and we didn’t have any guides to help. Circumstances often forced us to back-track and we’d have to find a new route. Other times we could comfortably stride up, sure we’d soon reach the peak. But the pandemic, supply chain issues and colossal material price-rises were terminal avalanches for our expedition, blocking all routes that were within our capability. With no peradams to buy us a guide to equip us for the now treacherous climb, we were forced to retreat.
Our next venture, Mount Collective, came about when Michael and Tara Greenwold heard we were putting an end to our “expedition”, and (to continue the allegory) they offered us the means to begin scaling the next mountain over, a higher and more impressive peak than the last; this time as a collective team. The planned route seemed simple and within our capability, so we joined the expedition.
“Countless tiny avalanches built up, forcing us to find a new route. Simon and I were exhausted from our last attempt…”
“Despite the upheaval, I felt calmer than I had in years, somehow at peace in knowing that scaling those high mountain peaks wasn’t right for me.”
Our party was hit by set-backs early on; countless tiny avalanches built up, forcing us to find a new route. Simon and I were exhausted from our last attempt, and this time we had more heavy equipment to lug around (because this peak was so much higher). Tara and Michael could see a way through, but we didn’t have the energy to join them, our exhaustion was only holding them back. So we parted ways, wishing our former teammates luck, knowing they had the energy and determination to find their own way up. (You can follow their journey here).
As I was on the descent into the green and forested foothills, I wondered what I could do next.
Despite the upheaval, I felt calmer than I had in years, somehow at peace in knowing that scaling those high mountain peaks wasn’t right for me. Now I just had to figure out what is right for me. And what is right for me isn’t going to be what is right for everyone. I’m not a go-getting entrepreneur. I’m more of an artist. The things I loved most about our first attempt with Mount Art Services was collaborating with creative people, helping them achieve their vision.
And then my eye was caught by a sudden sparkle, like dewdrops in morning sunshine.
A peradam.
Tiny, but enough to buy me a guide to scale the nearby peak of a grassy foothill.
The print studio.
“I’d do it my way, as part of a wider creative practice, not letting it take away from the other things I love doing like writing, art, & graphic design; all things I now do at the Silk Mill in Frome.”
I decided I would continue to print for artists, archivists, galleries, anyone with need of my skills. But I would do it my way, as part of a wider creative practice, not letting it take away from the other things that I love doing such as writing, making art, and graphic design. All of these things I now do at the Silk Mill in Frome. My studio spaces are tiny. My operation is small. I’m never going to reach the heights that we’d dreamed of when we began our trips to scale Mount Art Services or Mount Collective. But I can find a quiet hill-top among friends and strive to make it beautiful.
Your support in this aim means a lot to me - thanks for getting it and helping me on my way.
Go to Mount’s original website to read more about my other brands and services, including graphic design, writing and photography.
“My operation is small. I’m never going to reach the heights that we’d dreamed of when we began our trips to scale Mount Art Services or Mount Collective. But I can find a quiet hill-top among friends and strive to make it beautiful.”