Momentous Intent with Johnny McGovern δράω

Perhaps after I have posted Johnny McGoverns elusive and at the same time, fine photographic study of a mysterious West Penwith Well, perhaps when Johnny sees his image of the well, no longer trapped inside his camera, nor floating in the digital ether of his computer, perhaps then he will know if there is actually anything further to say besides, "In this Well did he place a Gothvos stone".

He may recall sensing a spark or smooth coolness in his palm emanating from the stone as he positioned that pebble, although I conclude these scenarios from my own experiences, placing Greenstone for the moment as I have done before but this placing is Johnny's placing, not mine.

A Stones Throw.

The clear photography yields detail but less reliance on spirits and shadows than the blurred Gothvos images taken previously with a plastic camera in Turkey, motivating stories on a cultural, geographic threshold obscured by distorted shadows, bleaching light, desert cedars and resins stimulated by the Sun and the Cicada. In Johnnys photographs the inscription is clear, fine granules of Mylor Slate re-heated by volcanic activity can be discerned, micro fossils and quartz intrusions, A stone material favoured by Cornish Greenstone Axe-Head polishers who gleaned this rock from the now submerged forest quarries of Mounts Bay and Gwavas Lake that have all but sunk and continue sinking.

The well is a water course and the Gothvos Stone represents, (among other things) the votive Greenstone Axe Heads that were evidently positioned in rivers and lakes by people alive in the Bronze Age, to whom we people connect, far greater a connection than through affectations such as wealth or status. I am bending the arc of Johnny's narrative-free activity in order to divine an outer pragmatism, a ritual, a detail of conjuring that I can use as a metaphorical bridge across the marsh of the mythos, where things beyond reasonable doubt risk being taken down "a peg or two" gradually the products and undertakings of these "marshy areas" are treated with  more Human-Scale definitions, the few Special things were sacred because they stood out exclusively to those who were seeking them. Those things were blessed although, not by the church. They walked under clearer skies and brighter stars, they drank clear water and breathed fresh air, they organised existence and mythos as the same.

Walking doesn't require navigation, in West Penwith there are many notable carns, cairns and stones with a few church towers, aerials and aircraft tracking devices that are permanent enough to use as simple wayside markers or as alignments between features, Given time and familiarity there are great miracles to uncover from the seasons growth, subterranean water courses, sunken mines and tidal phenomena, there is no reason to rehearse unless the formality of rehearsal uncovers the hitherto unknown, each rehearsal is distinguished by its difference.

 The core modus operandi of old ways can never really be known either, each attempt distances the enquirer further and further into amalgamous terra nova as befits the insulations of urbanity and reliance upon some form of capital, this idea seems to thrive once it has exhausted the realms of reason. 

How elemental are the constituent factors of this moment drawn of five photographs recording a moment in the event, an assemblage of hewn granite itself an armature for lichen, tendrils and moss, the sod has become mortar for a living organism and yet at its inception it was hostile, radio active and molten. Could the action of an intervention here in this old pasture invite the notion of something other, not just a landscape feature indicating available, potable water, but something more like a portal dispensing or exchanging other than water, is this Dromenon. 

Johnny the solitary wanderer Mág Samhradháin on his summery excursions throughout  East Breffny (Bréifne), Dumnonia and Kernow, did he navigate, with what did he know his own whereabouts?, his imagination? Did he lay markers or carry devices, yes a box full of air and a smile.

Julie encounters Ruskins world

  23 September at 16:13 From the magical hand and eye of Julie Bowles encountering Ruskins world and connecting us to it.

23rd of September 2021, Yorkshire Dales and Lake District in September 2021 for the first time, a much needed escape following a year of Lockdown in London. Carrying my Gothvos Greenstone in my backpack over miles of hikes, passing scars, fells, forces and forests.  Until the morning of my birthday, when I arrived by boat across Coniston Water to Brentwood the home of John Ruskin ; A Prophet of the 19th Century to many.  

A Londoner, Ruskin moved to Brentwood on 12th September 1872.  Brant originates from the Norse for "steep". The house is set in over 250 acres of woodland overlooking the visually stunning Coniston Water, including more than half a mile of lake shore laying in the shadow of the Old Man. Coincidently, Ruskin Park is close to my London home, named because Ruskin lived nearby. 

During Lockdown it had been one of the green spaces I had taken a daily walk to maintain some equilibrium in all the pandemic madness. 

Also coincidentally , I grew up in Oxford where Ruskin had studied, taught and founded his Drawing School before I moved to London in my early 20's. After visiting the house, the artists studio Ruskin had built for one of his relatives, I visited Ruskins Treasury. Ruskin was fascinated by mountains, minerals and geology and amassed a personal collection of over 2000 specimens in his lifetime. I like a nice fossil myself!  Then I walked the steep woodland trail and gardens above the house and found a mossy home for placing my stone at the base of an Oak Tree.

Placing my Gothvos Stone at the foot of this Oak Tree gave me such a sense of peace and stillness looking out over the hills and lake below in the September sunshine, on my birthday. 

Oak is a wood favoured for its strength and durability. The technical name of the Oak, Quercus is said to be derived from the Celtic quer (fine) and cuez (tree). The Greeks held the Oak sacred, the Romans dedicated it to Jupiter and the Druids venerated it. 

Artists have used its even grained, honey coloured beauty for carving and turning and it was a core part of the distinctive timbered houses. Oak's elasticity and strength made it particularly advantageous in ship building.

Edward the Confessors shrine at Westminster Abbey is of Oak that has outlasted the changes of 800 years. Oak logs have been dug from peat bogs in good preservation and fit for rough building purposes that were submerged a thousand years ago. In the Severn, breakwaters are still used as casual landing places where piles of oak are said to have been "driven in" by Romans.

The bark also yields a brown dye which was formerly used in the country to dye woollens of a purplish colour. The Scottish Highlanders used it to dye their yarns. Oak Galls gave the strong black dye from which ink was made. The bark of the tree was valued by the leather tanning industry as it contains a lot of tannin. In Brittany, tan compressed into cakes was used as fuel.

Many old British parishes contain what became known as the Gospel Oak, this was a prominent tree at which part of the Gospel was read aloud during the "beating of the bounds" - ceremonies at Rogantide in springtime, a practice supposed to have been derived from the feast to the god Terminus.  When psalms and gospel truths were uttered beneath their shade and blessings asked for the people.  Many of these gospel trees are still alive in different parts of Britain. In Somerset the very ancient Oaks of Avalon, Gog and Magog were named after the last male and female giants to roam Britain. The trees are reputed to be the remnants of an Oak-lined processional route up the nearby Glastonbury Tor.

The Major Oak in Sherwood Forest is purported to be the tree where Robin Hood and his merry men hatched their plots.  Acorns were of considerable importance for feeding swine, in many country districts acorns are still collected up in sacks as food for Pigs.

For Herbalists the medicinal stringent effects of the Oak were well known to the ancients, by whom different parts of the tree were used. Galen applied the bruised leaves to heal wounds. The Older Herbalists considered the thin skin covering the acorn  effectual in staying the spitting of blood and the powdered acorn in wine was considered a good diuretic. 

A decoctation of acorns and Oak-bark with milk was considered an antidote to poisonous herbs and medicines. A Tonic derived from boiling Oak bark was used to treat harness sores of horses and it is the bark which is now employed in medicine, its action being slightly tonic, strong astringency and antiseptic. Like other astringents it has been recommended in agues and haemorrhages also it is used as a remedy in chronic diarrhoea and dysentry, externally or as a gargle in chronic sore throat. 

Placing my Gothvos greenstone at the foot of this Oak Tree gave me such a sense of peace and stillness, looking out over the hills and the lakes below in the September sunshine on my birthday. 

"Dearest, bury me

Under that holy-ole, or Gospel Tree

Where, though thou see'st not, thou mayst think upon

Me, when you yearly go'st Procession.

Robert Herrick

Julie's Greenstone came from the sunken Oak Forests of Gwavas Lake, Penlee. Muer Ras Julie.

Val Thorens, Parc National de la Vanoise France.: Enter The Void.

Benjamin Schweitzer takes the Cornish Greenstone back to the Alps 

Back before the scars in social veneer began to surface, lauded by some typically incoherent larger than life,... larger even than death Characateurs, we were heading for a return visit to the blessed Mon Viso Italian Alps, as we did in August 2019, to the sacred mountain lakes up there where wood stoves perfume the summer in the shade of the valleys and the people go about the business of living with dignity and determination.

 Alighting in Genoa February 2020 was not a good idea, the irony of being attracted to a city that boasts its populations longevity, and attributes this "in-the-pink longevity" to steep hill walking, grapes, garlic, olive oil and countless other factors which are simple and make light work of scientific-advancement, was a possible man-trap to be set by the authors of covid-19 for yours truly.

Cinque Terre - Genoa 2020

 
Then along came Benjamin, a Scenographer telling his story by design, through drawing and a complex infusion of the digital signal and the constructors hammer, conducting us through a symphonic composition of herbs, olive oil, rustic infusions and Franco Battiato Niente è come sembre  from his home in Firenze to the French Alps through the placing of the Object high up in the mountains on the ski slopes of Val Thorens.  Adventures!

Now embarking on a journey monitoring the peaks, avalanches, clouds of information and landslides of new ideas in the lecture theatres and the academic rock-pools of northern England, like so many of my colleagues waiting for summer in the mountains, when the retreating snow reveals the mysteries of consciousness, creating a  Tabula Rasa for the here and now and so his story rests, locked between the strategic palimpsest and polished substance of Aether, perhaps his stone tells us more from existing rock which the 19th century inhabitants of the mountains, lived off, and in the landscape. With  the rising increase in the population, many mountain people learned new trades to survive. foundry-chimney sweeps, glaziers, boiler makers, knife grinders travelling far from home to sell their skills. The chimneysweeps of Orco Valley and Val di Rhêmes, came down towards the small towns in the lowlands in small groups, who had to do the hardest and most thankless part of the job: cleaning the chimney flues. There is a visitors' centre dedicated to this traditional trade in the park at Locana.

Copper - Venus.
There is evidence of medieval copper extraction in the Orco and Soana valleys. Copper was extracted from the mines present in the area, melted and processed first at the forge, and then refined, tinned and sold as metallurgical stock for the craftsmen in the workshops. The copper works have left their mark on the landscape, with the mines and the paths that lead to them, the water supplies, the forges, the workshops and the itinerant locksmiths and tinsmiths.
This tradition is now being preserved with a project by the Ecological Museum of the Orco and Soana valleys, which includes the recently restructured and refurnished copper forge at Ronco. Perhaps more importantly , is the Copper School in Alpette, where the experience of hand-crafting copper objects is passed on. 

Iron or mines? at Cogne
In Valle di Cogne the presence of lode veins of iron-ore played an important part on life in the local community. Initially the exploiting of the mine was open, anybody could extract the mineral, build a forge and cut down trees to burn. At the beginning of the 19th century the metallurgical processes were modernized within the organization of the mine, with the forming a co-operative, which was superseded by "Società Nazionale Cogne", thereby reaching a high level of productivity until, like everywhere else we await news of a revival. 

Not Far Away in Distance

A Greenstone Primer

I'm curious about the secret life of this blog which ordinarily features postings of Greenstone Gothvos (sea pebbles) placings made by people in a variety of geographic situations. 
Since google is running (ruining) my life with absurd demands for greater and greater security measures, some of those stories seem to have slipped beneath some sort of imposed horizon, a non event horizon, which leaves me feeling almost as fraught as if they had survived and were being held aloft as examples of illiteracy.

GAVRINIS ISLE 

Guirv Enes and Guerg Enes, respectively. The old Breton word Guergis not related to gavr, but to parallels such as Gaul gwery, or Old Irish ferg, signifying "wrath".

Upwards and Onwards: this May we went to Carnac, Brittany, to see The St.Michel Tumuli a massive barrow containing a passage grave in which several Greenstone objects, Jadeite Axe Heads and other extraordinary findings and the Island of Gavrinis.

 

The Gulf de Morbihan from St.Michel Tumuli

Currently we may value Jadeite for its intrinsic value, measured in monetary terms infact we're almost obliged to refer to it in that way directly from our DNA: money and capital have existed for a long time now, who is to say there were no localised or quasi- currencies in existence five thousand years ago? I want to entertain the notion that if any currency did exist, it would be a very different undertaking than our present tokenised money, such is impregnated into small plastic cards and pixelated screens and our coinage or paper money, I do realise that the process of polishing Greenstone for many hundreds of hours, presumably to imbue it with a(n unknown) value possesses similar visual outcomes /attributes to impregnated magnetic-strip-plastic. The hazy idea of quid pro quo or bartering is a separate ordeal centred on the market place and trading, although that could form an eventual over generalised concept of what drove these people, I'm looking for values be they moral and or aesthetic. Instinctively (for that is the territory) I'm drawn to a limited shared value within a syndicate of interested parties, And I'm reading ritual all over the scant but compelling evidence.

 The fact substantiated by an accretion of studies presented by Neil MacGregor, that the Jadeite craftsmen were an enormously influential cult that smothered the areas Bronze age Morbihan in Southern Brittany and their creations have been matched with the high quarries in Monviso with emanating  examples found all over western Europe creating sub-cults - certainly in Britain via the quarrying of Elvan Greenstone; Mylor Slates and Gabbro in such locations as Penlee Gear Rock Cornwall. The retrieval of these beautiful artefacts (stone axe heads) is almost exclusively pointing to their investiture within water and water sources, already giving rise to Arthurian excalburian romance but more poignantly a value system embodying a social gratitude for the elements and for the environment.

The Entrance to The Passage Grave, there are about twenty nine stones all about two metres by one with radiating arcs grooved into their granite surfaces.

Click on the link above for a little intense movie.

Penlee Greenstone at Gavrinis Passage Grave 

The idea of pilgrimage springs forth when attempting calculations of walked mileage between Gavrinis island where the Axe heads are venerated in stone and stories to the quarries in Monviso, the Italian Alps are about a thousand miles / two thousand Kilometres in the most directly taken route, its no big undertaking when you compare the distances apart where the Greenstone Axes have been found, presumably physically carried there and usually deposited in a watery place. The idea of pilgrimage is partly inspired by my ignorance about the people who went each year to Piedmont Monviso were they Breton, Dumnonian, it was thousands of years ago and so much research is questioning the received ideas that have gone largely unquestioned in mainstream debates. I had the sense when I was there that the mountains were a place like a centre for a radius of locations, not just a single destination for an isolated group.

A lot of discussion seems to recognise an epic global event when humans received a go-ahead moment, regardless of their whereabouts, a green light to proceed in the quarrying and making of greenstone axeheads, some of these may have performed utilitarian functions but they are extremely "beautiful" objects, the line of their form is exceptionally fine by any sophisticated or inherent standards. Axe Heads and Adzes seem to be the main object quotient in the western areas, but during this universal Greenstone moment many societies in far flung locations looked for and exploited their own local "greenstone" as in New Zealand where Maori craftsmen produced nephrite objects and axeheads during this concerted moment. These visits, makings and détournements are synchronised with the torturous business of the Government of the United Kingdoms ejecting itself from its European status and re establishing itself as something uncertain, I use the term détournement because my intrusion is slight and temporary, "quiet" I have heard said, (generally of my work) I think such intrusions are the only sure way we can ever know what these objects and events mean, it is fair to say there are no truths in a given field, in this context certainly, when I am present in the spaces the history of five or seven thousand years simply falls away, I am in a poem or certainly the situation is poemic in my interpretations of my quest, I've come to realise that factual information doesn't exist around these places.

At the foot of Monte Viso a Greenstone oblation from Penlee.

On Ferragosto (August 15th) we visited Monviso, Piedmontese for a few days bringing greenstone from Cornwall to the foothills quarries and at Lago Fiorenza. 

The astounding peak of the Mountain is given no justice in this photograph which only attempts to fix the documentation of the stone-placing-action. Ferragosto although a holy-day of St.Mary is also a day bringing families to picnic, to enjoy the outdoors together including walking and feasting in the mountains. The location, when approached as fearfully as I did gave me confidence but thin air, I was walking on paths of greenstone, alpine plants some oddly familiar, what the hells Ground-elder doing up here? thriving up here? higher and higher, my sandals were terrifically pagan and pilgrimesque but truly unsuitable even in the refugio bar, the light can be extremely haunting, the drama of the light is one thing but the sheer scale and perspectives associated with height and cloud are truly breathtaking, btw so is the mountain driving on hairpin surfaces that appear to be on the move themselves, superb engineering.

The spectacle of the Greenstone occupies a locus that defies my appetite for understanding, a poemic type of understanding partly I trust this is as a result of my initial interest seeming so arbitrary, I remind myself of Arthur Stace walking the streets of Sydney surreptitiously inscribing the word Eternity on any surface he thought nobody else was looking at. I mean of course the method in which Stace "received" his involuntary infatuation with the word Eternity. Arthur Stace was attending a bible meeting at which the pastor's use of the word "eternity" indelibly imprinted itself into his psyche and he was enthused with the purpose to take the word as far and wide within his city bounds as he could. Why Greenstone? Ask mr Ottery my geography teacher.

Oncino

Epistemological Solipsism blowing down the backroads heading South. by Jonathan Polkest

The Other Sided unresolvable otherness.

For someone spending or having spent a vast amount of potentially solipsistic activity loitering behind theatrical scenery or more propitiously manufacturing said devices, or aspects of manufacturing: urging, planning, drawing, painting, constructing or “shifting” scenery or scenic affects, for someone of such ilk it remains a mystery to me why such a person nurtures a deep fascination for “the other side”, the Dark Theatre, the over-scribed and under scryed about-face, the dusty void and out-of-hours, the lock-in, the type of deserted railway platform after the train departs and not the railway platform before the train is arrived, a slackened emptiness of departure and not the tense anticipation of pre-arrival, for someone of such a disposition I am neither surprised nor unconscious  that such a person is me and possibly you if you have read thus far.

The great drama that played out in the devising of the device, the orthodoxy of the system fuelled by the pyramid of authority borrowed for the fleeting two dimensional reflex from the visceral three dimensional desensitised loutish reality. Great humour and craic but sweaty hours and schemes, all night get ins and get outs and chemically overloaded neurones. The preparation for the Ritual of Performance is out-performing the Ritual, we have sacrificed the bull too soon. Such is improvisation a slightly bit unplanned and therefore more ceremonially sacred than the comparatively cliched Ritual, and yet the Ritual is good because it is functioning at the right time in the proposed place, a sacred place made more sacred with flattage, raked floors, controlled drapery, lighting effects, sound effects, all the attributes of a spectacle, a special time, a special place that proceeds 

a procession of acts and actions.

The Buds of Bloomsbury

But my friends we have come too late.

The Gods live up there in a different world.

Endlessly they act as if to spare us,

Little they seem to care whether we live or do not.

Holderlin.

I recall an image of a beautiful Ben Nicholson painting in a book by Norbert Lynton, pretty sure I’ve got that authors name right, I have a fascination for Nicholsons work on the Line, but the feature I loved best about this particular example of Nicholsons works were the two photographs - one taken of the front of the canvas showing clearly the figuration, the tonalities, the slight blurring using a wash over the incisive modulating graphite line and the accompanying “twin” photo of the reverse of the same painting, showing the chalked codes of various galleries and curators, labels, numbered raffle-ticket labels, customs and excise, framers labels even postage stamps which I presume were used as a type of legitimising authority, in the days when authority was presumed, visible, represented by such paraphernalia as the queens head on a postage stamp, rubber stamped evidence of a process of judgement and validation, the stamp itself concealing something powerful and unknown, as official as pound notes and fivers but it would be blasphemous to stick actual money on there, representations of power not actual power.

The modus operandi was to display the “tyre tracks” in the gritty journey of the painting between being shown in one place and travelling to the next gallery, more stamping, more signing, translation, more validation. The validators accretion spoke about a lot, more than its travelling history, for me it spoke about its other sidedness in way that brown paper, bubble wrap rags, unprimed flax, textured masonite are equally as eloquent.

The Dark Theatre

These signals are all the scrape marks and scratches of the Dark Theatre, a peculiar smell emanating from dust being heated in the coloured gels of a theatre lantern, a faint whiff of fire retardant soaked drapery and in earlier times the smell of glue size, the right place at the wrong time, the wrong place at the dark time, against nature. 

Seasons are marked by ritual and ritual is the perfect emphasis to seasonal variation, to elevate the ordinary to the sacred, the arboretum in autumn as the sugar content in the sycamore leaf drives the green to yellow, the yellow to orange and orange to vermillion, leaving us with burnt umber everything winter. and so it was that we walked to Charleston along the South Downs but it was winter and everything slumbered but such a heavy, heavy slumber.

Object Theatre - The Dark Theatre

Wonwell Beach Gothvos Laura Denning

On May 18th I participated in a walk through the Somerset Levels led by Laura Denning in pursuit of Hydroethnic rivulets and pools , sweet rack wooden roads, the remnants of islands in the levels unlike the islands at the other end of the Dumnonian peninsular awash in the Atlantic, these isles were met by the Severn, and for the very first time a definite site for a Greenstone Axehead courtesy of Fay Stevens, a site I can return to and delve.

This is where a Greenstone Axe was recovered, (not on May 18th) presaging the cult of relics it was put here and now that its been retrieved I must surely be able to view it and find out a little more information about the space between the Axehead, its place of origin and its place of committal, certain norms are that the presence of water seems to prevail, on an island thats not difficult to imagine, even on an erratic island, it probably looked a bit like this one:

I expect it looked nicer as most are superbly polished after many hundreds of hours polishing by hand, possibly a ritual in itself consisting of story telling and speculation.

I asked Laura if she would place a Gothvos stone as a scenographic response, she accepted a Greenstone axe shaped pebble that I had taken from the Gwavas Lake shores of Newlyn and Wherrytown with the word Gothvos written on it, Laura placed her stone on Wonwell Beach.

Wonwell Gothvos among the Kelp

Mentioned in the Ravenna Cosmology The River Erme is a very significant part of the Gothvos trail,  42 tin ingots were found in the mouth of the estuary on the north side of the West Mary Reef. These date from between 500 BC and 600 AD. Tin mining was in existence on Dartmoor from an early date. Dartmoor tin-mining would have been a major part of the Dumnonian economy throughout its history and into Devons history, nearby Mothecome belies its former celtic pronunciation as Muddicome.The Hydroethnicity drifts on...

So Jungs' Journey to Art and invisible Cultures.

06.05.2018. Belvedere Palace, Vienna, Austria. - Salzberg - Hallstatt.

Does anyone need to justify a visit to Salzberg, Hallstatt and Vienna? Such a rich array of cultural objectives and activities await the traveller there. My visit was to be an adventure with the main purpose of Photography and a personal curiosity of all things cultural, to achieve some good photos of me, some perhaps in interesting locations, I focused on a simply planned excursion without specifics in the itinerary. But for this excursion I became increasingly influenced by some of my more favored accounts of art history.

I became more familiar and at ease with the architecture and the urban feel of the city by looking through the work and style of the artists I had studied, particularly through the work of the artists I knew to be "inhabiting" those Vienese galleries. I could easily conclude that they helped me enjoy that city. I seriously believe that I got to know how to feel my way around the city through the spirit of some famous artists combined with my appreciation of art and aesthetics. For me the most important artists are Gustav Klimt and Egon Schiele. To be honest, I hadn't felt really mesmerized by any art work to such a strong degree from any gallery before, even though I'd already experienced quite a few art museums including Paris Louvres and National gallery in London and so on.. But when I saw some of the art works from Schiele or Klimt I couldn't pass by easily and I just gazed at them for a long time because I had become so familiar with the artists' story and background, so my impression was that much more informed.

So Jung Travels

Belevedere Palace was so huge and there were a lot of things I could see but I concentrated on those two artists' works, comparing theirs. Therefore, I was satisfied with what I experienced even if I narrowed my field of vision, I did so to intensify my enjoyment of very specific parts of the galleries. Now I'm looking forward to visiting other different galleries all over the world, with the same attitude of mind, I'll research the stories and the background of each important artist before I visit a city!!
'One’s destination is never a place, but always a new way of seeing things.' said someone..
10.05.2018. Salzburg, Austria.


http://www.visual-arts-cork.com/cultural-history-of-ireland/hallstatt-celtic- culture.htm#definition

When the departure date of my trip was just around the corner, I was very excited, I was so tired of the fickle and gloomy weather in London at that time, by good fortune the weather was sunny in Austria! To me, it was a trip; not only for the cultural heights of art and architecture but also a moment to avoid the rain and recharge my batteries with the warmth of the sun. When I arrived in Salzburg, where I enjoyed open scenery more than the architecture and art in the beautiful museums, I felt supreme happiness in the warmth of the sunshine. But, when I went to Hallstatt, a small town near Salzburg, the weather deteriorated and was not as good as I thought it would be. It took quite a bit of time and effort to get there
and I was really looking forward to going so I became a little bit disappointed about that. Also, I don't think there was anything particularly special compared to its popularity. 

This helped me conclude that planning a visit simply because the location is popular is not always a good strategy.

 But I just looked at the peaceful lake and the not so grand but attractive church for a long time. And I placed a Gothvos inscribed Greenstone from Kernow: Cornwall U.K. the stone hints towards the hidden culture of Hallstatt Celtic cultures for someone who went there because of its historic associations but lost interest immediately (like me), hoping someone may like to find a little bit of fun when seeing the stone.