By Lucy Kenningham “The closer you look at beauty,” writes the novelist Alan Hollinghurst, “the more unsettling it becomes.” This line from the novel The Line of Beauty, in which the glamorous protagonist Nick Guest propels himself through life in the reckless pursuit of aesthetic pleasures, drifted through my head as I stood in a damp field on the outskirts of Oxfordshire. Sodden and skulking, ankle deep in mud, I gazed up in both awe and disgust at the telos of my trip: the Sandford Lock electricity pylon. It was a tiresome journey: through pelting rain I had travelled eight miles across Lon…