The Essay

Ben Cottam puts on full waterproofs to cross the causeway to Sunderland Point, in search of the grave of a black slave. There are 43 tidal islands around the UK, accessible just briefly each day along beguiling paths. Across the series, five writers journey across a favourite causeway to islands of refuge, pilgrimage, magic and glamour. Wheels spin wildly and Ben peers anxiously through mud-sprayed windscreen as he tries to drive to Sunderland. There is no real boundary between land and sea, the coastline as fluid as the tide. The danger signs escalate and he remembers tales of insidious rising waters, drilled into him as a child by coastguards from Morecambe Bay. He treks to what is uncomfortably called Sambo’s grave, the resting place of young black slave. Abandoned there by a sea captain in the 18th century, Ben wonders how his own family might have treated him and is heartened to find fresh tributes marking a lost life. Producer: Sarah Bowen

Claire McGowan enters the freezing waters off Burgh Island, connected at low tide to the mainland by a short sandy causeway.There are 43 tidal islands around the UK, accessible just briefly each day along beguiling and perilous paths. Across the series, five writers walk their favourite causeway to islands of refuge, pilgrimage, magic and glamour.Claire grew up with the mythology of the giant Finn McCool flinging rocks at a rival in Scotland and building the Giant’s Causeway. Arriving at Burgh Island, she steps into tranquil 1920s glamour, to sip Agatha Christie inspired cocktails in the Art Deco hotel bar. In this time capsule, Claire explores our relationship with Golden Age Crime and her own past; as the tide retreats, past relationships disappear with the waves and time simultaneously changes and stays still.Producer: Sarah Bowen

There are 43 tidal islands around the UK, accessible just briefly each day, along beguiling and perilous paths.As the tide retreats, five writers walk their favourite causeway to islands of refuge, pilgrimage, magic and glamour.Today, Evie Wyld boards the ferry at Lymington pier and retraces a path well-travelled with her family during school holidays - across the Freshwater Causeway on the Isle of Wight. Her route takes her past ghost benches, a graveyard, World War Two pill boxes on a journey through grief, memory and what survives the tide. Across the series:Claire McGowan sees time change as she enters the freezing waters off Burgh Island and sips cocktails in the art deco hotel bar.Ben Cottam almost gets stuck in the mud as he searches for the grave of a black slave and questions his family’s past at Sunderland Point. WN Herbert follows in the footsteps of pilgrims to Lindisfarne and reflects on the causeway leading to a meditational space.And between kite surfers and dog walkers, Patrick Gale is suspended between two worlds as he follows the S shaped causeway, shaped by relentless tides and currents to St Michael’s Mount.As sea levels rise and the sands shift, causeways are in flux. The essayists draw us down onto the sands, revealing what these liminal routes mean to both them and the cultural history of the UK.Producer: Mohini Patel

There are 43 tidal islands around the UK, accessible just briefly each day, along beguiling and perilous paths. As the tide retreats, five writers walk their favourite causeway to islands of refuge, pilgrimage, magic and glamour.Patrick Gale joins those seemingly walking on water as they cross to St Michael’s Mount in this first episode. Between kite surfers and dog walkers, he is suspended between two worlds as he follows the S shaped causeway, shaped by relentless tides and currents. He is joined by Lord St Leven who tells him about the near impossible task of maintaining the route to the Mount, his family’s home since the 17th century. And from the tidal walk emerge the stories and myths that have built up around Karrek Loos yn Koos, first visited by Archangel Michael, and now by hundreds of thousands of tourists. Across the series: Evie Wyld retraces a childhood walk across the Freshwater Causeway on the Isle of Wight, finding graveyards and ghost benches. Claire McGowan sees time change as she enters the freezing waters off Burgh Island and sips cocktails in the art deco hotel bar. Ben Cottam almost gets stuck in the mud as he searches for the grave of a black slave and questions his family’s past at Sunderland Point. And WN Herbert follows in the footsteps of pilgrims to Lindisfarne. As sea levels rise and the sands shift, causeways are in flux. The Essayists draw us down onto the sands, revealing what these liminal routes mean to both them and the cultural history of the UK.Producer: Sarah Bowen

Margaret Heffernan explores how art can help us deal with uncertainty in our lives. Without uncertainty, there is no freedom. How do artists learn how to use this freedom to act, to make something, to have original ideas? Modern life feels increasingly uncertain, to the point of making us uncomfortable. Most people hate uncertainty. We feel calmer knowing something bad is definitely coming (say, an electric shock) than when there's a possibility we might escape it. New technology sometimes seems to have the goal of eliminating uncertainty, but is this really desirable? Margaret argues that an element of uncertainty is a necessary part of the creative process, a catalyst which can help us find ways of meeting the challenges of the future. Margaret Heffernan is a writer and entrepreneur, author of the award-winning 'Uncharted: How to Map the Future'. Here, she takes inspiration from artists who embrace uncertainty.Producer: Mary Ward-Lowery

Margaret Heffernan explores how art can help us deal with uncertainty in our lives. How does an artist know when a piece is finished? Or more precisely, when they should stop work and launch it into the world? Margaret Heffernan is a writer and entrepreneur, author of the award-winning 'Uncharted: How to Map the Future'. Here, she takes inspiration from artists who embrace uncertainty.Producer: Mary Ward-Lowery

Margaret Heffernan explores how art can help us deal with uncertainty in our lives. How do artists tolerate the fear that uncertainty creates? Modern life feels increasingly uncertain, to the point of making us uncomfortable. Most people hate uncertainty. We feel calmer knowing something bad is definitely coming (say, an electric shock) than when there's a possibility we might escape it. New technology sometimes seems to have the goal of eliminating uncertainty, but is this really desirable? Margaret argues that an element of uncertainty is a necessary part of the creative process, a catalyst which can help us find ways of meeting the challenges of the future. Artists deal with uncertainty all the time: starting work nobody asked for, rarely sure where the work will go, when it’s finished or whether it will connect with a public. This can be deeply frightening: Tracey Emin sketches before having enough courage to paint; Sebastian Barry fears the next word won’t come. To the frequent dismay of fans, artists change direction before they have to. They have agency, independence, but they take a risk each time they begin. Margaret Heffernan is a writer and entrepreneur, author of the award-winning 'Uncharted: How to Map the Future'. Here, she takes inspiration from artists who embrace uncertainty.Producer: Mary Ward-Lowery

Margaret Heffernan explores how art can help us deal with uncertainty in our lives. How do artists begin a new project? The point is to be open to the world, and to have 'an eye that is always watching'. Modern life feels increasingly uncertain, to the point of making us uncomfortable. Most people hate uncertainty. We feel calmer knowing something bad is definitely coming (say, an electric shock) than when there's a possibility we might escape it. New technology sometimes seems to have the goal of eliminating uncertainty, but is this really desirable? Margaret argues that an element of uncertainty is a necessary part of the creative process, a catalyst which can help us find ways of meeting the challenges of the future. Artists deal with uncertainty all the time: starting work nobody asked for, rarely sure where the work will go, when it’s finished or whether it will connect with a public. This can be deeply frightening: Tracey Emin sketches before having enough courage to paint; Sebastian Barry fears the next word won’t come. To the frequent dismay of fans, artists change direction before they have to. They have agency, independence, but they take a risk each time they begin. Margaret Heffernan is a writer and entrepreneur, author of the award-winning 'Uncharted: How to Map the Future'. Here, she takes inspiration from artists who embrace uncertainty.Producer: Mary Ward-Lowery

Margaret Heffernan explores how art can help us deal with uncertainty in our lives. Modern life feels increasingly uncertain, to the point of making us uncomfortable. Most people hate uncertainty. We feel calmer knowing something bad is definitely coming (say, an electric shock) than when there's a possibility we might escape it. New technology sometimes seems to have the goal of eliminating uncertainty, but is this really desirable? Margaret argues that an element of uncertainty is a necessary part of the creative process, a catalyst which can help us find ways of meeting the challenges of the future. Artists deal with uncertainty all the time: starting work nobody asked for, rarely sure where the work will go, when it’s finished or whether it will connect with a public. This can be deeply frightening: Tracey Emin sketches before having enough courage to paint; Sebastian Barry fears the next word won’t come. To the frequent dismay of fans, artists change direction before they have to. They have agency, independence, but they take a risk each time they begin. We love their work because it shows a truth we avoid. We want evidence for every decision, proof that our project will be successful before it starts, ratings, sales numbers and prizes to prove our worth. Data to promise certainty before we dare try anything. But maybe this craving for certainty constrains our imagination and leaves us passive, because there are no datasets from the future. Perhaps an addiction to certainty suppresses our capacity for exploration and discovery in ourselves and in the world. Margaret Heffernan is a writer and entrepreneur. Here, she takes inspiration from artists who embrace uncertainty.Producer: Mary Ward-Lowery

Perhaps above all, the artistic quality we prize most is imagination. Psychologist Professor Victoria Tischler explores the enigmatic work of ceramicist Shinichi Sawada. Shinichi's sculptures look like small demons or monsters. The organic forms are covered with clay studs that resemble spikes, some forming mask-like facial figures, like totem poles.As an artist with autism, Shinichi is largely non-verbal, so he can't explain the meaning of his work, allowing the viewers' imagination to run riot. The best way to experience any art.