Aquatopia is the new show at Nottingham Contemporary Art Gallery (locally known as 'tempreh). The subtitle of the show is 'The Imaginary of the Ocean Deep', and to be honest I think it is one of the BEST shows that the gallery has done.
What I think I like about it most is that it combines contemporary art with historical material - putting things into context.
It's also a dense show - the galleries feel FULL: and in a white space, all too often the shows have felt thin, feeble, scarcely enough content to fill one room let alone four.
So we get a show juxtaposing Turner's sea monsters alongside Odilon Redon's illustrative visions; we get sea squids of various shapes, sizes and textures (including Spartacus Chetwynd's disconcerting 'enactment' of Hokusai's "The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife", itself a pretty alarming set of imagery), and we get the smooth sculptural flows of Hepworth sat just opposite a 19th century diving helmet. You get to see Marcel Broodthaer's mussel shells and various of Christian Holstad's sea-squid 'creations' draped around the gallery ---- each called "This is not a life-saving device". Well indeed.
To accompany the show there is also the usual variety of talks and other events - films screenings, discussions, documentary presentations, workshops etc. Everything from the Lovecraftian legends to viewing the deep sea world, Hollywood B-movie sea monsters to ocean soundscapes.
It's a bizarre show in many ways - especially in land-locked Nottingham - but it's worth catching here. For those who want a more 'apt' setting, an expanded version will be shown at Tate St Ives later in the year.
You should come to 'tempreh.
And at least I have broken the bad pattern of not blogging. I'm getting rubbish at this aren't I though?!
Showing posts with label Art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Art. Show all posts
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Monday, October 15, 2012
Sunday cultural highlights in Leicester (1): August Sander
We headed over to Leicester about 1.30pm and arrived just after 2.30pm by the time we had driven to East Midlands Parkway train station and got a train. As we walked out the station we passed an 'October Highlghts' poster with a super picture of an August Sander picture from the 1920s.
(I meant to take a photo of the full length poster but forgot and only a cropped version seems to be online)
The full-length image of an unnamed secretary at the German Radio Station is a stunner - and I wish I could find the woman's name.
Anyway: being interested in German early-mid 20th century culture, we duly trotted off to the Leicester Museum and Art Gallery for the August Sander exhibition.
This exhibition from Art Fund Touring Rooms, is BRILLIANT - and really worth seeing if you haven't already caught it. It's on in Leicester until January 2013 so plenty of time to make a journey up the motorway/trainline.
We ended up spending quite some time in the gallery - they also have a great permanent collection of German art from the early 20th century anyway: Kollwitz, Grosz, Dix and earlier expressionist artists such as Marc, Kandinsky, Münter, Heckel, Kirchner, Jawlensky and Schmidt-Rottluff. We got into a couple of conversations with staff: one of the gallery assistants (pointing out a couple of images in the Sander exhibition were wrongly hung/labelled) and talking about the exhibition more generally with a woman who was doing a questionnaire on behalf of the Art Fund who were funding the tour. I think I bluffed my way reasonably well, though almost certainly was wrong on some things. But it was nice to stretch my cultural historian muscles.
(This was one of the pictures concerned: easy to pick up as there was another of Dora further along the same wall)
Sander's work tried to categorise and capture archetypes and inevitably gained criticism during the 20th century. Was his work for or against Nazism? It is useful to consider that his son was arrested - and indeed died - due to his Communist sympathies and actions. Was August as active in his politics? No. But he clearly had sympathy for the intellectuals as well as 'those of the soil' and his work captures the diversity of Germany in a way that could have hardly been comfortable for the Nazi regime. His work has been criticised over the years - misunderstood for what he was trying to achieve. He didn't make it easy for Germany to look at itself, but he did provide a unique record of itself for future generations.
The full-length image of an unnamed secretary at the German Radio Station is a stunner - and I wish I could find the woman's name.
Anyway: being interested in German early-mid 20th century culture, we duly trotted off to the Leicester Museum and Art Gallery for the August Sander exhibition.
This exhibition from Art Fund Touring Rooms, is BRILLIANT - and really worth seeing if you haven't already caught it. It's on in Leicester until January 2013 so plenty of time to make a journey up the motorway/trainline.
We ended up spending quite some time in the gallery - they also have a great permanent collection of German art from the early 20th century anyway: Kollwitz, Grosz, Dix and earlier expressionist artists such as Marc, Kandinsky, Münter, Heckel, Kirchner, Jawlensky and Schmidt-Rottluff. We got into a couple of conversations with staff: one of the gallery assistants (pointing out a couple of images in the Sander exhibition were wrongly hung/labelled) and talking about the exhibition more generally with a woman who was doing a questionnaire on behalf of the Art Fund who were funding the tour. I think I bluffed my way reasonably well, though almost certainly was wrong on some things. But it was nice to stretch my cultural historian muscles.
Sander's work tried to categorise and capture archetypes and inevitably gained criticism during the 20th century. Was his work for or against Nazism? It is useful to consider that his son was arrested - and indeed died - due to his Communist sympathies and actions. Was August as active in his politics? No. But he clearly had sympathy for the intellectuals as well as 'those of the soil' and his work captures the diversity of Germany in a way that could have hardly been comfortable for the Nazi regime. His work has been criticised over the years - misunderstood for what he was trying to achieve. He didn't make it easy for Germany to look at itself, but he did provide a unique record of itself for future generations.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Art reviews: Rashid Rana "Everything is Happening at Once" and DAAR "Common Assembly" / Thomas Demand "Model Studies"
Yesterday was 'an art day'. Neil and I took in two exhibitions (well, sort-off three: but the Nottingham Contemporary Gallery almost always double-banks its exhibitions with some 'tenuous' link).
To start with it was super-rainy. The excuse of staying for coffee at the Nottingham Art Exchange in Hyson Green (my old childhood stomping ground) was mostly on the grounds that outside was torrential rain. Besides, they do nice coffee and the space is always inviting to sit in.
Anyway, we needed time to digest the beauty of the exhibition we had just seen there: Rashid Rana's incredible and breathtaking "Everything is Happening at Once" (1).
It is a brilliant, disturbing and visually entrancing exhibition, with works predominantly constructed from multiple small images: sometimes these are at odds with their apparent content, other times the large is constructed from the small.
The thing is that photographs can never do justice to this type of work, not least because they can never capture the physical experience of standing in front of them, moving around - close, further away - that brings the images in and out of focus, alerting the viewer to the construction of imagery and the undermining of meaning.
For those worried that this is sounds rather like giant optical illusions, somewhat akin to those immensely irritating early 1990s Magic Eye 3-D images (2), be not afraid. These are so much more rewarding. The reflective surfaces of 'Desperately seeking paradise II" (2010-11) that greet the visitor as they enter the central gallery, start to turn into an image, and at close proximity you realise the tiny images at the heart of the whole: small photographs of housing in Lahore. As you step further and further away from the entrance, the reflective surfaces disappear completely and the overpowering obsessive detail in each small photograph is taken over by the realisation that the whole is even greater than the sum of its parts: a immense skyline of skyscrapers - at odds with the small domesticity of low-level housing in the individual pictures.
Another work, 'Dis-location I' (2007) is constructed from around 45000 individual pictures taken of the same building over 24 hours, to make a whole image of that building, a colonial building: sometimes people intrude to the left, right and centre of the individual frames, but the building - solid, non-transitory - appears static in the bigger picture. The flux of time and space: I cannot think why this exhibition appealed to me.
Upstairs, there are warnings about "imagery of an adult nature": the series 'What Lies Between Flesh and Blood' presents Rothko-esque images constructed of images of 'flesh' and 'blood' garnered from multiple sources. But these lead into more discomforting images. 'Red Carpet' (2007) creates the sumptuous qualities of a fine Persian carpet from multiple images of a slaughter-house. At close range, the spatter of blood is disconcerting: at even a couple of feet away, such details of 'reality' are lost to the overall pattern.
I suspect though that Veil VI is the real reason for the warnings: a row of women dressed in full-veil clothing, barely individuated in their similarity, is made up from their equally un-individuated Western counterparts from Pr0nographic imagery. It is simultaneously simple (simplistic) and disturbing. Again, the disjunction of part and whole - East and West - are blurred and critiqued.
After that, Nottingham Contemporary had a tough job to pull off a comparable reaction from me. And although it had elements of the fascinating, nothing quite touched me in the same way.
As is common with Nottingham Contemporary, the space often brings together two artists/collectives/themes. In this case, it is architecture. Thomas Demand discovered the archive of John Lautner at the Getty Research Institute, Los Angeles.
Ahem.
Anyway. Demand usually creates his own models of architectural space, but destroys them once they are photographed. Here (thankfully) the urge to destroy is resisted, but Demand lends to his often super-close-up images of Lautner's modernist architectural models a sense of capturing an entire history of both modernism and architectural form. There is a weird beauty to it, but the images appear a little 'dead' after a while amidst them, in a way one hopes a visitor does not feel in Lautner's own spaces.
The other 'half' of the exhibition is both more explicitly architectural and yet more divorced from the reality of architecture.
Decolonizing Architecture/Art Residency (DAAR) is an art and architecture collective set up by Alessandro Petti, Sandi Hilal and Eyal Weizman, based in Palestine. Through videos, proposed architectural interventions, explorations of contested spaces and buildings (crucially the ill-fated and ill-located Palestinian Parliament), DAAR challenge the dispassionate modernism of Lautner and Demand to highlight how space and the buildings that occupy it, the lines that draw it, and the laws that enable it are sites of more than just creative practice.
It is intellectually interesting, but I felt rather like I have in the past when viewing Martha Rosler's work: it stimulates my brain, my politics and my sensibilities, but I don't necessarily feel creatively connected to it. I think this may be my flaw.
So it was very much an art day, even though the experiences seemed to move further away from an integration of creativity in the world to an analysis of the difficulties of bringing the creative into a fragmented inhabited space in 'the real world'.
(1) Yes, my inner nerd alarm did go off as I thought about "all of history happening at once" in the Doctor Who season fnarg plus 1 finale "The Wedding of River Song".
(2) Irritating because I could NEVER 'see' diddly with these darned Magic Eye things and merely got irked by the hours wasted in pursuit of the un-seeable.
To start with it was super-rainy. The excuse of staying for coffee at the Nottingham Art Exchange in Hyson Green (my old childhood stomping ground) was mostly on the grounds that outside was torrential rain. Besides, they do nice coffee and the space is always inviting to sit in.
Anyway, we needed time to digest the beauty of the exhibition we had just seen there: Rashid Rana's incredible and breathtaking "Everything is Happening at Once" (1).
It is a brilliant, disturbing and visually entrancing exhibition, with works predominantly constructed from multiple small images: sometimes these are at odds with their apparent content, other times the large is constructed from the small.
The thing is that photographs can never do justice to this type of work, not least because they can never capture the physical experience of standing in front of them, moving around - close, further away - that brings the images in and out of focus, alerting the viewer to the construction of imagery and the undermining of meaning.
For those worried that this is sounds rather like giant optical illusions, somewhat akin to those immensely irritating early 1990s Magic Eye 3-D images (2), be not afraid. These are so much more rewarding. The reflective surfaces of 'Desperately seeking paradise II" (2010-11) that greet the visitor as they enter the central gallery, start to turn into an image, and at close proximity you realise the tiny images at the heart of the whole: small photographs of housing in Lahore. As you step further and further away from the entrance, the reflective surfaces disappear completely and the overpowering obsessive detail in each small photograph is taken over by the realisation that the whole is even greater than the sum of its parts: a immense skyline of skyscrapers - at odds with the small domesticity of low-level housing in the individual pictures.
Another work, 'Dis-location I' (2007) is constructed from around 45000 individual pictures taken of the same building over 24 hours, to make a whole image of that building, a colonial building: sometimes people intrude to the left, right and centre of the individual frames, but the building - solid, non-transitory - appears static in the bigger picture. The flux of time and space: I cannot think why this exhibition appealed to me.
Upstairs, there are warnings about "imagery of an adult nature": the series 'What Lies Between Flesh and Blood' presents Rothko-esque images constructed of images of 'flesh' and 'blood' garnered from multiple sources. But these lead into more discomforting images. 'Red Carpet' (2007) creates the sumptuous qualities of a fine Persian carpet from multiple images of a slaughter-house. At close range, the spatter of blood is disconcerting: at even a couple of feet away, such details of 'reality' are lost to the overall pattern.
I suspect though that Veil VI is the real reason for the warnings: a row of women dressed in full-veil clothing, barely individuated in their similarity, is made up from their equally un-individuated Western counterparts from Pr0nographic imagery. It is simultaneously simple (simplistic) and disturbing. Again, the disjunction of part and whole - East and West - are blurred and critiqued.
After that, Nottingham Contemporary had a tough job to pull off a comparable reaction from me. And although it had elements of the fascinating, nothing quite touched me in the same way.
As is common with Nottingham Contemporary, the space often brings together two artists/collectives/themes. In this case, it is architecture. Thomas Demand discovered the archive of John Lautner at the Getty Research Institute, Los Angeles.
(Sorry: cannot help myself - BEEN THERE!)
Ahem.
Anyway. Demand usually creates his own models of architectural space, but destroys them once they are photographed. Here (thankfully) the urge to destroy is resisted, but Demand lends to his often super-close-up images of Lautner's modernist architectural models a sense of capturing an entire history of both modernism and architectural form. There is a weird beauty to it, but the images appear a little 'dead' after a while amidst them, in a way one hopes a visitor does not feel in Lautner's own spaces.
The other 'half' of the exhibition is both more explicitly architectural and yet more divorced from the reality of architecture.
Decolonizing Architecture/Art Residency (DAAR) is an art and architecture collective set up by Alessandro Petti, Sandi Hilal and Eyal Weizman, based in Palestine. Through videos, proposed architectural interventions, explorations of contested spaces and buildings (crucially the ill-fated and ill-located Palestinian Parliament), DAAR challenge the dispassionate modernism of Lautner and Demand to highlight how space and the buildings that occupy it, the lines that draw it, and the laws that enable it are sites of more than just creative practice.
It is intellectually interesting, but I felt rather like I have in the past when viewing Martha Rosler's work: it stimulates my brain, my politics and my sensibilities, but I don't necessarily feel creatively connected to it. I think this may be my flaw.
So it was very much an art day, even though the experiences seemed to move further away from an integration of creativity in the world to an analysis of the difficulties of bringing the creative into a fragmented inhabited space in 'the real world'.
(1) Yes, my inner nerd alarm did go off as I thought about "all of history happening at once" in the Doctor Who season fnarg plus 1 finale "The Wedding of River Song".
(2) Irritating because I could NEVER 'see' diddly with these darned Magic Eye things and merely got irked by the hours wasted in pursuit of the un-seeable.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Favourite Artwork - a MediumRob question
MediumRob asked his question of the week as 'what is your favourite artwork?'
One? Just one?!
Heck. Not do-able.
Firstly, there is the picture above: John William Waterhouse, and one of several versions of Ophelia. I love this particular one as I think it is the only one that captures here is a woman who has gone mad.
However, at the opposite of the art spectrum, I could sit in the Rothko room at Tate Modern from morn til night and not be bored with their shimmering radiance.
A painting a wish I had purchased when I had the chance was a work called 'Lost and Found" by Emmy Bridgwater. It was well out of my price-range (a poverty stricken student) when I first saw it back in the early 1990s. It went to a good home - I don't know if it is still there or not - but I loved it with a passion. It was small, and delicate and fierce all at once.
Bizarrely, the chronology page I created on Bridgwater back then is STILL hanging about on the InterWeb, unable to be updated with a new contact address....
Back when Trafalgar Square was still accessing traffic in front of the National Gallery, there was a sound installation: Wave Memories by Bill Fontana. As you descended the steps either side you suddenly heard this enveloping sound of waves crashing on the shore - it was being projected live from the coast - and it was magnificent. As you walked away, the sound was muffled under the traffic sounds, but in the lower ground are near the fountains, it was like being by the sea.
Architecture-wise, I still inhale sharply at the elegance and beauty of the Express Building in London (especially inside)
I still think one of my best experiences was on the Open House day several years ago when I got to see inside this beauty. A great experience.
Sunday, January 08, 2012
"With pleasure": a cultural day review including Film Review: The Artist
We had quite a cultural day yesterday - started off by going to Nottingham Contemporary to catch the Klaus Weber exhibition before it closes today; walking around St. Mary's Church in Hockley; going to the Broadway Cinema to see The Artist; and ending up by watching the first couple of episodes of Borgen, our new Scandi Saturday drama.
All in all a very lovely day and I will try and post some pictures here soon of our day out.
In the meantime, I want to focus on commenting about "The Artist" which is quite possibly one of the loveliest films you could possibly hope to see this year (if you have not already been lucky enough to see it).
You can imagine the pitch:
- it's in black and white (though interestingly it used colour stock and then was altered to black and white because the contrast was not quite what was wanted in proper black and white)
- it's largely silent with VERY limited diegetic sound and has intertitles
- it's in 4:3 aspect ration (how I squealed with delight at that little detail, instead of the screen widening as it started)
A rather sniffy review in Sight and Sound (the BFI's film magazine) dismissed it as a 'novelty', and it's true there is unlikely to be a resurgence of new films made in this way. I'm not expecting the new year to bring in dozens of 'silent' movies. However, the review did really irk me when I read it after coming home from the screening thoroughly uplifted.
Whilst it would be wrong to hold individual reviewers to be 'stand-ins' for the magazine (let alone the BFI as a whole), Sight and Sound does have an unfortunate tendency to sometimes grant the most gross-out populist film serious credence and credibility than it would ever deserve; to be so harshly dismissive of an undeniably populist film as 'The Artist' which has much higher ideals underpinning it seems at the very least hypocritical.
So a gross-out film aiming for the populist 15-24 year old is more 'honest' than a beautifully observed homage to the silent (and classic) eras of Hollywood appealing to an audience encompassing everything from children to grandparents?
I know which 'honesty' I think deserves more analysis.
[Link to "The Artist" trailer - sorry: could not embed]
I've come to a conclusion about films and their audience: if you get to the end and the audience starts applauding, I think you've got something special on your hands as a feel-good movie. Most times, people just filter out. They may be smiling and happy even, but I do think that applause in a cinema is now a rare enough commodity to mean something.
The storyline is simple: a heroic romantic, daring-do-action film star meets a wanna-be actress. She is on the way up; he is on the way down. This is because soon after they meet, talkies arrive. Our leading man - elegantly captured by the performance of Jean Dujardin as George Valentin - is not someone who talks: indeed his first intertitle 'line' is "I will not speak." Our leading lady, the suitably named Peppy Miller (played by Berenice Bejo) is, in contrast, positively entranced by talking. Will their attraction lead to happiness? Can there be success for them both?
During "The Artist", there were many sequences where, with no music either (despite a luscious near-continuous score by Ludovic Bource), there was just pure enraptured silence in the room. Nevertheless, we laughed at the utterly adorable Jack Russell (Uggie) who deserves an Oscar in his own right; we wept at the sight of an intertitle reading "BANG!"; we grinned with delight at the dance sequences - everything about this film is so perfectly pitched to carry the audience along with it.
The visual tropes deployed are not all from the silent era - there are a number of sequences owing much to Citizen Kane for example. Overall then "The Artist" plays with and looks affectionately upon those 'tricks' of both the silent era and some of the classic period Hollywood cliches. We read lips well, but not always well; we understand that when a dog runs up to a policeman he needs his attention for an emergency; when a producer/studio owner sees dollar-signs, he doesn't care if it's the old or the new as long as it works.
Nostalgic? Yes, this film is undeniably infused with a lifelong passion for film. Will it encourage audiences to look again beyond the latest 3-D widescreen fad to older films? One can only hope. And in the meantime, expect the sentimentality of the BAFTA and Academy Award committees to shower "The Artist" with awards. For once, one lives in hope they do...
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Belated London post: 5 December 2011 - the V&A Museum of Childhood and Broadway Market
Well this was a gem of a find --- Neil had been to Broadway Market earlier in the year (whilst me and the girls were indulging in Much Ado), and mentioned that to get to it you had to go to Bethnel Green tube station on the Central Line and walk past the Museum of Childhood.
Walk past?
I don't think so.
Turned out this wasn't as he thought just the Tower Hamlets museum of childhood, but rather a spectacular outpost of the Victoria and Albert Museum: the Museum of Childhood is a full blown brilliant space with a great collection and lots to see and do.
As you go in the wonderful entrance-way, you currently encounter an exhibition of Julia Margaret Cameron's photographs of children. There is also a brilliant display called The Stuff of Nightmares, featuring the tale of Fundelvogel.
There are the expected collections of children's toys and amusements through the centuries --- everything from Star Wars memorabilia to 18th century dolls-houses, from baby's rattles from many centuries ago to the latest must have robot toys.
Walk past?
I don't think so.
Turned out this wasn't as he thought just the Tower Hamlets museum of childhood, but rather a spectacular outpost of the Victoria and Albert Museum: the Museum of Childhood is a full blown brilliant space with a great collection and lots to see and do.
As you go in the wonderful entrance-way, you currently encounter an exhibition of Julia Margaret Cameron's photographs of children. There is also a brilliant display called The Stuff of Nightmares, featuring the tale of Fundelvogel.
There are the expected collections of children's toys and amusements through the centuries --- everything from Star Wars memorabilia to 18th century dolls-houses, from baby's rattles from many centuries ago to the latest must have robot toys.
But the exhibitions are so much more than 'just' these treats - there are also several excellently put together displays on themes, as exemplified by the Magic Worlds show (on til 4 March 2012) on magic and illusion, fantasy and enchantment. It covers everything from children's magic sets to Derren Brown, from Grimm's Fairy Tales to Walter Crane's Flower Fairies, from Middle-Earth to mermaids. It's beautiful, fascinating and covers every medium of product, story-telling and imagery. Gloriously displayed to please both enquiring young minds and memory-driven adults.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
A day out in Cromford - Scarthin Books and more
We had a fab day out yesterday: we got the bus to Nottingham and then (making a detour via Page 45 --- more Buffy comics! a new volume of The Unwritten!) headed to the train station where I picked up the latest Doctor Who Magazine with its extensive tribute to the glorious and much missed Lis Sladen.
We get the train to Matlock, though we're getting off a little earlier at the lovely village of Cromford. It is a glorious bright and sunny autumn day. Perfect for a day out.
The train starts at Nottingham and stops at:
The next two stops are Matlock Bath and Matlock - deep in the Derbyshire Dales. Another visit perhaps...
We stop at Cromford and exit at the newly refurbished station.
We walk down into the village and firstly head to Arkwright's Mill. The Arkwright family are central not only to Cromford but also to the wider history of the Industrial Revolution. The Arkwright Society is doing great work in putting the site and its buildings to good use, and they have a long-term strategic plan to maintain, develop and improve the site so that future visitors can see this important location in the history of industrialisation.
At Arkwright's Mill, we enjoy visiting a number of excellent craft shops, especially Arum Lillie. Really beautiful print designs, textiles, and pewterwear, amongst other goodies. We'll be visiting them again!
We get the train to Matlock, though we're getting off a little earlier at the lovely village of Cromford. It is a glorious bright and sunny autumn day. Perfect for a day out.
The train starts at Nottingham and stops at:
- Beeston
- Attenborough
- Long Eaton
- Derby
- Duffield (or 'Duffield International' as the guard as we travelled out called it)
- Belper (or 'The People's Democratic Republic of Belper' as the guard coming home called it)
- Ambergate
- Whatstandwell (surely a contender for the award of best name for a village EVER)
- Cromford
Just to prove I'm not making Whatstandwell up as a place-name, here is the railway sign from the station.
The next two stops are Matlock Bath and Matlock - deep in the Derbyshire Dales. Another visit perhaps...
We stop at Cromford and exit at the newly refurbished station.
We walk down into the village and firstly head to Arkwright's Mill. The Arkwright family are central not only to Cromford but also to the wider history of the Industrial Revolution. The Arkwright Society is doing great work in putting the site and its buildings to good use, and they have a long-term strategic plan to maintain, develop and improve the site so that future visitors can see this important location in the history of industrialisation.
At Arkwright's Mill, we enjoy visiting a number of excellent craft shops, especially Arum Lillie. Really beautiful print designs, textiles, and pewterwear, amongst other goodies. We'll be visiting them again!
But the main reason we were heading to Cromford was for...
Crikey, this is a brilliant rabbit-warren of a bookshop. And even better it has its own hide-away cafe with the most incredible food served. We had a couple of ploughman's lunches - Neil had Stilton cheese (a MASSIVE honk!) and I had mushroom pate (four very good-sized portions of the delicious stuff). It's vegetarian/organic and proper lovely.
The store (according to its website and reported in the Guardian's recent listing of Scarthin as one of the top UK independent booksellers) holds approximately 5000+ antiquarian texts, 50,000+ second-hand works (many piled high against the walls and stairwells I can report!) and 40,000+ NEW books. It is a trove of non-specialist gems, but I'd particularly recommend their children's book room which is delightful.
The store (according to its website and reported in the Guardian's recent listing of Scarthin as one of the top UK independent booksellers) holds approximately 5000+ antiquarian texts, 50,000+ second-hand works (many piled high against the walls and stairwells I can report!) and 40,000+ NEW books. It is a trove of non-specialist gems, but I'd particularly recommend their children's book room which is delightful.
Inevitably, we came home laden with new goodies and we're already making headway through these. We eat books for breakfast! For knowledge! For pleasure and for all the other human emotions that books can stir and communicate to us.
We can't help it. We just love books.
And here are the two of us - me all wrapped up (in the scarf/shawl I knitted last year, and Neil in a t-shirt he got from San Francisco which we thought apt for book-shopping.
And here are the two of us - me all wrapped up (in the scarf/shawl I knitted last year, and Neil in a t-shirt he got from San Francisco which we thought apt for book-shopping.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
"To secure for the workers": Theatre Review "The Pitmen Painters" @ Nottingham Theatre Royal, Tuesday 14 June 2011
Sentimental? Oh most certainly. But in the best possible way.
The Pitmen Painters has been capturing audiences since it was first performed at the Live Theatre in Newcastle back in 2007. As a co-production with the National Theatre in London it then transferred there, before later moving to Broadway, and now The Pitmen Painters is back out on tour around the UK. I would definitely urge anyone who hasn't already seen it to go.
Why should you go? Because it's such an entertaining but also moving portrayal of working-class life from the early 20th century. It is incredibly funny, and - from the perspective of an art historian - it is also remarkably sharp about the class and economic relationships that underpin art practice, art theorising, art history, art education, galleries and patronage. William Feaver's book on The Pitmen Painters was the inspiration for Lee Hall's vibrant play, and I do remember reading this book when I was studying art history --- although I am astonished that given the play's success it is necessary to ask why this book is not more readily available...
The small group of actors in this play are a delight to watch (and listen to); the miners portrayed are fearsomely articulate, even where they struggle to express and comprehend the educated elites around them. They speak from passion and experience, even where they lack formal training, learning or even practice; there was an audible gasp from the (all-too-small) audience when we first saw one of their works produced for their art class discussions - because there is something stunning and beautiful and truthful about what their artworks communicated. An honesty.
By Hall's own admission, the play uses some artistic licence to articulate its narrative - limiting the number of players, amalgamating characters, eliding timelines and source texts (even the most dedicated of socialists was unlikely to be quoting Marx's writing from texts scarcely available, let alone in English). But this does not diminish the play's potency. And whilst some have complained at the heavy-handedness of the ending, for me it was deeply moving.
As the cast sing - and boy does choral singing like this move me - the backdrop displays the captions outlining what happened next: the University of Ashington that never happened, the closure of the pit and the hut, and ultimately, the loss in 1995 of the poetry and struggle that was the Labour Party's Clause 4:
To secure for the workers by hand or by brain the full fruits of their industry and the most equitable distribution thereof that may be possible upon the basis of the common ownership of the means of production, distribution and exchange, and the best obtainable system of popular administration and control of each industry or service.Yes, reader: I let a tear fall for what was lost in that change of language. For what it symbolised as part of not just the Pitmen Painters' narrative but also of the bigger struggle for working class people. It made for a moving end to the evening, and I only wish that there had been more people there to appreciate the committed performances of this production.
The tour of Pitmen Painters continues on around the UK until 1 October.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Big Weekend Number 1: Friday 26 Nov-Sunday 28 Nov 2010 - Bellowhead, The Clock (take 2), Stackridge, and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest
From the sublime to the ridiculous: We're tearing ourselves in all directions over the coming few weeks --- and the logistics are getting scary. I'm getting really cross with myself that I can't actually do all the things I want/need to. Sometimes I look at the maps and the time things take (crucially factoring in the 'Neil and Lisa sense of direction') and it makes me weep.
Still: we've had a good weekend and I can't complain.
Friday: BellowheadIf ever there was something DESIGNED to bring cheer and bounce, the Bellowhead are the ones to do it.
It was like a (almost) two hour workout really, since Bellowhead irresistibly get you dancing (in my case bouncing up and down and jigging about). Third time seeing them, and just as delightful (see previous reviews).
Saturday: The Clock (take 2)It had to be done: we had to go back to see the excellent installation The Clock by Christian Marclay (scroll). Since the logistics of getting to central Brum in the snow (and more crucially back again) in time for our evening commitment was iffy, we were able to offer a friend a much needed trip out and indulged ourselves in both lunch at NAE (Nottingham Art Exchange) AND several hours of the movie extravaganza.
Brain-thrilling stuff.
Saturday: StackridgeTo coincide with friends' wedding anniversary, we attended a gig in Lowdham (that's the other side of Nottinghamshire: can you see why the logistics were getting knotty?).
Stackridge have been around for ages - and that's no bad thing. They're tight players with an excellent sound. They'd played at the first Glastonbury and you may find their song 'Dora The Female Explorer' especially entertaining, depending on your age.
For those unfamiliar with Stackridge, you may nevertheless know this track by the Korgis:
James Warren and Andy Cresswell-Davis formed The Korgis after Stackridge initially disbanded in the late 1970s, but Stackridge has since reformed, taking in a performance at Glastonbury in 2008 and they are currently continuing to tour. With two female fiddle players (who offer much more besides) they're well worth seeing live.
After the gig, it was over to said friends for coffee/tea/mince-pies etc before a later night drive home.
Sunday: The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet's Nest (film and book)
I've really enjoyed reading the Larsson trilogy, and although the second two films suffer from being made-for-TV (and the inevitable problems of being 2nd and 3rd installments) it was a very satisfying finale to the filmic versions.
In Swedish.
No, I still am not enticed by the big US version forthcoming next winter.
Rapace and Nyquist were as excellent as ever, and it was a very exciting way to spend a Sunday pm.
I then promptly went home and re-devoured the book in one sitting (reading mostly to remind myself of the differences between film and book versions).
Still: we've had a good weekend and I can't complain.
Friday: BellowheadIf ever there was something DESIGNED to bring cheer and bounce, the Bellowhead are the ones to do it.
It was like a (almost) two hour workout really, since Bellowhead irresistibly get you dancing (in my case bouncing up and down and jigging about). Third time seeing them, and just as delightful (see previous reviews).
Saturday: The Clock (take 2)It had to be done: we had to go back to see the excellent installation The Clock by Christian Marclay (scroll). Since the logistics of getting to central Brum in the snow (and more crucially back again) in time for our evening commitment was iffy, we were able to offer a friend a much needed trip out and indulged ourselves in both lunch at NAE (Nottingham Art Exchange) AND several hours of the movie extravaganza.
Brain-thrilling stuff.
Saturday: StackridgeTo coincide with friends' wedding anniversary, we attended a gig in Lowdham (that's the other side of Nottinghamshire: can you see why the logistics were getting knotty?).
Stackridge have been around for ages - and that's no bad thing. They're tight players with an excellent sound. They'd played at the first Glastonbury and you may find their song 'Dora The Female Explorer' especially entertaining, depending on your age.
For those unfamiliar with Stackridge, you may nevertheless know this track by the Korgis:
James Warren and Andy Cresswell-Davis formed The Korgis after Stackridge initially disbanded in the late 1970s, but Stackridge has since reformed, taking in a performance at Glastonbury in 2008 and they are currently continuing to tour. With two female fiddle players (who offer much more besides) they're well worth seeing live.
After the gig, it was over to said friends for coffee/tea/mince-pies etc before a later night drive home.
Sunday: The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet's Nest (film and book)
I've really enjoyed reading the Larsson trilogy, and although the second two films suffer from being made-for-TV (and the inevitable problems of being 2nd and 3rd installments) it was a very satisfying finale to the filmic versions.
In Swedish.
No, I still am not enticed by the big US version forthcoming next winter.
Rapace and Nyquist were as excellent as ever, and it was a very exciting way to spend a Sunday pm.
I then promptly went home and re-devoured the book in one sitting (reading mostly to remind myself of the differences between film and book versions).
Sunday, October 31, 2010
In Praise of... Christian Marclay: The Clock (exhibit at the British Art Show 2010, Nottingham - New Art Exchange)
Nottingham has currently gained quite an artistic coup: the opening exhibition of the new British Art Show 2010 BEFORE it comes to London (or anywhere else in the UK).
Spread across three venues - New Art Exchange, Nottingham Contemporary and Nottingham Castle Gallery and Museum - the show provides a snapshot of contemporary art practices (last time we ended up not wearing our own shoes).
So far, we've made it around two of the three venues (you get into the Castle for free if you visit the other two venues first: usually the Castle is a paying venue for non-Nottingham residents, and we live just outside the city limits).
Still, my highlight by a country mile is sadly a work not being exclusively shown in Nottingham (though I really hope that Nottingham residents and visitors take full advantage of it):
Christian Marclay: The Clock
Also available as a WHOPPING 720 page book, The Clock is a magnificent video installation showing... well, clocks. And watches. And time passing. All constructed from thousands of film clips --- in 'real time'. It is an utterly addictive experience -- we did approx. 11.25am to 12.15pm, and then approx 12.30-1pm. And then headed back for 4.10-4.45pm. You sit and find yourself physically Lost in Time (scroll for picture). I could have easily stayed for the day. If only the day long screening wasn't a work day...
What's annoying is that most of the reviews around focus on its current screening in London rather than the Nottingham installation. Even the Huffington Post reviews it -- but AGAIN, no mention that Nottingham is getting its fair share of the fun.
Which is a real shame because I would really like more people to take advantage of seeing this magnificent work in Nottingham while they can. Nottingham's New Art Exchange describe The Clock thus:
[Marclay's] new work, The Clock, features thousands of found film fragments of clocks, watches, and characters reacting to a particular time of day. These are edited together to create a 24 hour-long, single-channel video that is synchronised with local time. As each new clip appears a new narrative is suggested, only to be swiftly overtaken by another. Watching, we inhabit two worlds; that of fiction and that of fact, as real-time seconds fly inexorably by.But to my mind, this is all just a fancy way of saying 'spot the clip!' because frankly this was the most fun I've had in ages in an art gallery.
These clips from several thousand films, are structured so that the resulting artwork always conveys the correct time, minute by minute, in the time zone in which is it being exhibited. The scenes in which we see clocks or hear chimes tend to be either transitional ones suggesting the passage of time or suspenseful ones building up to dramatic action.
There is a charming interview with Christian Marclay from the Economist - acknowledging both the team of assistants in his film watching, and his editing technology - but mostly I urge you to see the installation.
What I found so enchanting is that alongside the expected - indeed, essential clips - such as 'High Noon' at noon and the Robert Powell version of 'The 39 Steps' with THAT scene hanging off Big Ben...
... you also get less expected snippets such as quick glimpses of 'The Quick and the Dead' (which also has noon as a key timing point).
But there are also some nice clips from non-film sources such as John Simm as Raskolnikov pawning his watch in the TV adaptation of Crime and Punishment. Some scenes pass in a second, others are languidly included but the main feature is that time keeps passing. I would happily spend my days dipping into this fascinating work and if you see nothing else from the diverse range of artworks included in the British Art Show, make sure you see this.
Friday, June 04, 2010
London: cricket, a party, and exhibitions (Spring Bank Holiday weekend 28-30 May 2010)
Pictures to follow - possibly.
Friday last week we did one of our regular trips to London - so we of course stuck to the routine of a meal at Pizza Paradiso (Ristorante Olivelli) on Store Street, despite most of their neighbours being boarded up for renovations.
A nice walk on a good night and then we had an early start the next day as we were off to Lords.
Yes. We went on the SATURDAY to Lords for the Bangladesh v England test, the day with the worst weather.
Oh well, least we were in the members enclosure* so it was a bit more sheltered from the worst of the rain. And we had lots of good company for chattering and food/drink sharing. Always the best bit of a good cricket match!
We were lucky and did get some play, eventually, but it was mostly just nice to be there. Its quite a place to visit.
As bad light drew the match to a close, Cloud and I had to gallop off as there was a second reason we were in London: a friend's 50th birthday party.
This would have been something to really look forward to had I not got myself in a total knot over the fact it was on a barge.
The Battersea Barge to be precise. Which, had I checked it properly in advance, would have been obviously revealed as a very dry-docked building. Hurrah. I'm not the best fan of water-based vessels.
Anyway, said party was fine but will be chiefly memorable for the Barge's resident dog, Mungo.
Mungo was a VERY cute poodle type dog, approximately 15 months old. Sweet little face; very affectionate.
Unfortunately a BIT TOO affectionate for one guest who found he took to shagging her arm as she was sitting down. So much so that she had to, ahem, clean up...
Horribly hysterical for everyone there. (Though Mungo must have thought he was on to a winner as when she went to go and clean herself up in the Ladies, Mungo followed her up the stairs and into the toilet... "going somewhere more private! way-hey my luck is in!!")
Like I say, horribly amusing.
Sunday was a more sedate affair. We packed up to leave the hotel and nipped across to see the British Library exhibition Magnificent Maps; Power Propaganda and Art.
I cannot recommend this exhibition highly enough. It is visually stimulating, full of fascinating details and just a real thrill to move around. Warning: you're likely to end up spending at least 30 mins looking at the detail on Stephen Walter's 'The Island' - an idiosyncratic map of London and well worth the FREE admission and your time in itself.
We then moved on to the Southbank. At least our intention was to get to Tate Modern for the new photography show there. Forgetting the closure of Blackfriars, we had to loop across slightly, changing at Embankment and ending up to Monument (it was a great day but I'm not good with heights so we stayed on the ground to admire its newly cleaned up beauty). From there we realised we were close enough to make ANOTHER attempt at locating the National Trust pub.
And at last we found it!
The George Inn dates from the 1600s and is not only beautiful but also does some fine food. VERY good chips for a start!
After a refueling and alcohol, we walked across to the Tate but we hadn't really left ourselves enough time to take in the exhibition. Another day later in the summer probably. Still, we now had just enough time to do a skinny around the Surrealism gallery and then take in more sunshine before heading back to St Pancras.
And home to watch Doctor Who...
*We're not members but came instead as guests of a friend of a friend who clearly got put down for membership at birth by his dad. Handy to know people...
Friday last week we did one of our regular trips to London - so we of course stuck to the routine of a meal at Pizza Paradiso (Ristorante Olivelli) on Store Street, despite most of their neighbours being boarded up for renovations.
A nice walk on a good night and then we had an early start the next day as we were off to Lords.
Yes. We went on the SATURDAY to Lords for the Bangladesh v England test, the day with the worst weather.
Oh well, least we were in the members enclosure* so it was a bit more sheltered from the worst of the rain. And we had lots of good company for chattering and food/drink sharing. Always the best bit of a good cricket match!
We were lucky and did get some play, eventually, but it was mostly just nice to be there. Its quite a place to visit.
As bad light drew the match to a close, Cloud and I had to gallop off as there was a second reason we were in London: a friend's 50th birthday party.
This would have been something to really look forward to had I not got myself in a total knot over the fact it was on a barge.
The Battersea Barge to be precise. Which, had I checked it properly in advance, would have been obviously revealed as a very dry-docked building. Hurrah. I'm not the best fan of water-based vessels.
Anyway, said party was fine but will be chiefly memorable for the Barge's resident dog, Mungo.
Mungo was a VERY cute poodle type dog, approximately 15 months old. Sweet little face; very affectionate.
Unfortunately a BIT TOO affectionate for one guest who found he took to shagging her arm as she was sitting down. So much so that she had to, ahem, clean up...
Horribly hysterical for everyone there. (Though Mungo must have thought he was on to a winner as when she went to go and clean herself up in the Ladies, Mungo followed her up the stairs and into the toilet... "going somewhere more private! way-hey my luck is in!!")
Like I say, horribly amusing.
Sunday was a more sedate affair. We packed up to leave the hotel and nipped across to see the British Library exhibition Magnificent Maps; Power Propaganda and Art.
I cannot recommend this exhibition highly enough. It is visually stimulating, full of fascinating details and just a real thrill to move around. Warning: you're likely to end up spending at least 30 mins looking at the detail on Stephen Walter's 'The Island' - an idiosyncratic map of London and well worth the FREE admission and your time in itself.
We then moved on to the Southbank. At least our intention was to get to Tate Modern for the new photography show there. Forgetting the closure of Blackfriars, we had to loop across slightly, changing at Embankment and ending up to Monument (it was a great day but I'm not good with heights so we stayed on the ground to admire its newly cleaned up beauty). From there we realised we were close enough to make ANOTHER attempt at locating the National Trust pub.
And at last we found it!
The George Inn dates from the 1600s and is not only beautiful but also does some fine food. VERY good chips for a start!
After a refueling and alcohol, we walked across to the Tate but we hadn't really left ourselves enough time to take in the exhibition. Another day later in the summer probably. Still, we now had just enough time to do a skinny around the Surrealism gallery and then take in more sunshine before heading back to St Pancras.
And home to watch Doctor Who...
*We're not members but came instead as guests of a friend of a friend who clearly got put down for membership at birth by his dad. Handy to know people...
Sunday, May 02, 2010
Exhibition reviews: Leicester New Walk Museum and Art Gallery
The forecast was for lots of showery rain, but it never appeared. Ah well, we still had a very pleasant day in Leicester collecting our tickets for the summer festivals (Big Session and Summer Sundae) and visiting the lovely New Walk Museum and Art Gallery.
We managed to catch the last weekend of the big Leicester exhibition (Journey out of Darkness) of German Expressionism which in itself was worth the visit. Leicester has, for a number of really interesting reasons, got a very large collection of German expressionist artworks including some very fine and regularly requested items. A key trigger point for their acquisitions was one very radical exhibition - 1944's Mid-European Art show: note the date and think then on how popular municipal bodies would be for showing German art. The show led to four important acquisitions: Franz Marc’s Red Woman, Lyonel Feininger’s Behind the Church, Emil Nolde’s Head with Red-Black Hair and Max Pechstein’s The Bridge at Erfurt.
But we also got to see the Meri Rail: Portraits of the Indian Railways (which thankfully runs until August, so you will have time to catch this). The people and and their captions/stories are fascinating and diverse: everyone from board members to drivers, orphan children who live in the stations to porters, tea-sellers to security police, job-form-sellers [there is a thriving business in selling the right job application forms for jobs on the railways] to engineers, cleaners to quota-sponsored athletes [the railway helps support those with additional talents]. Gerry Troyna's documentary and photographs with Achinto Bhadra are a delight to look at in detail.
The two together made for a truly stimulating visit: thought-provoking and visually interesting.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
London in the spring: Friday 16th to Tuesday 20th April 2010
Been away. You may have guessed this, but given my erratic blogging, possibly not!
Anyway, we had a spiffy few days in London, marred only by my being rather unwell on Monday 19th (I'm unsure whether to blame the curry or the chill I caught sat in the BFI - the latter being ironic given that our first visit there had proven insufferably hot - a screening of the Lancaster classic 'The Killers').
Friday
Pizza Paradiso - of course, topped off with a glass of limoncello each on the house. Well, we were the last in there and they know us well after all these years.
A good walk round the block, picking up the tube back to the hotel and watching late night TV.
Saturday
Awake at ridiculous o'clock so we hit out for an early breakfast at Bar Brunos. We were so early even after finishing eating that staff were still breaking into Forbidden Planet so we headed round the block back to the tube to head to Marylebone. Visited Alfie's and marvelled at the prices for retro chic before wandering into Marylebone itself and into Daunts. Of course.
Stopped off for a half of much needed cider before getting the tube to Angel / Islington (no chuckling at the back there) and Neil walking me through the delights of Camden Passage where 1930s dresses were dazzling my eyes. Of course, all the ones I really loved (especially in Annie's) were at the higher end of the price range (though I noticed not as high as Alfie's prices were. Hmmm). Interstingly, we noticed when we dropped by Anthropologie - a shop I had nearly bought things from in Santa Monica where dresses were selling at approx $60 - that prices there made the one-off's of Annie's look VERY good value. £188 for a chain produced dress versus £180 for an original 1930s dress. Which do YOU think I would have gone for if I had been actually buying something...?!
On Saturday we also headed to the South Bank where we picked up the tickets for a screening of Butch Cassidy for the Sunday at the BFI.
We had a stop-off for Doctor Who which was... well, fun but on the could-do-better scale. Never mind.
A meal at Ristorante Cappuccetto near Cambridge Circus was a fine end to the day, with us ordering 3 mains between the two of us (well, I don't really count gnocchi with gorgonzola as a main, more of a side dish really) and a salad. I think the staff thought us mad, but we polished off the whole lot with ease.
A nice walk and then back to the hotel for more late TV.
Sunday
If it's Sunday in London, it's Spitalfields, S&M (and a very cheery waiter) and lots of wishing I lived nearer to this treat. Still, I saw my favourite designer Nina (of Enienay) and found some nice goodies for myself and Neil. Sadly my brain was possibly already frying as I completely forgot to use the visit to buy presents for people. Which just confirms the 'if it doesn't beep on my fone reminders, I will forget' syndrome I suffer from. Grr and apologies.
We then head to the South Bank to meet Poly (hello!!!) and have some very nice cheeses and chips before the film. The film of course was great, full of those sparkling one-liners for which Goldman so well-deserved his plaudits.
We regroup ourselves and head back to Brick Lane and have a very nice curry and then a long walk back via the City, Bank of England, Fleet Street and Covent Garden.
Monday
Did I say that London has been bright and beautiful for the whole trip? And no contrails either. Good job we weren't flying anywhere. We start the day late and head to Whitechapel for a visit to Freedom Press. Nice to support independent political bookshops. We then head back to town to grab a sandwich at Brunos before taking in a trip to the NPG for their Glastonbury and the Format Photography mini-shows (I rather like their one-room shows). We have a big night ahead, so while Neil visits Hausmanns I rest up reading my Doctor Who mag at the hotel, recuperating for the evening's visit to the theatre.
We have tickets for Enron which is fabulous, even if the characters are all unrepentant shits. There was a surprising number of bankers in the audience (go figure) but the performances and staging were wonderful - even if Neil was left somewhat traumatised by the unexpected sight of Sam West's moobs.
Tuesday
Breakfast at Brunos, moderately early and the staff are in fine form of chatty friendliness. We then go for a walk and wander to lots of new places. We see the first contrails of our stay, visit the sound sculpture of Bill Fontana at Somerset House (brilliantly evocative) and stand in the sun looking across the river. We stroll through the old bit of King's College (masked from the Strand side by its awful 20th century concrete frontage) - and I also note now that they have recently taken over some of Somerset House itself. We then head through to Inner Temple and Temple Church. I feel like I'm walking through Rumpole, Law and Order UK, Judge John Deed territory. We then wander into St Dunstan in the West with the giant clock strikers and then on to Sam Johnson's house (a great place to see!) and a further wander through the back streets towards Ely Place and St Etheldreda's Catholic church. We stop off for a drink at Ye Olde Mitre pub before we find ourselves in Hatton Gardens in jewelry territory and I amazingly find myself drawn to the a gorgeous Art Deco Sapphire and diamond ring. It is of course the most expensive of all the hundreds on display at a rocking £14,800. Cripes. (I can't find the item online of course, but trust me: it was beautiful)
We then set off wandering off through Lincoln's Inn Fields and marvel at the lush greenery and architecture of barrister land. We drop in for a quick visit to the oddity that is Freemason's Hall and finally head back to Pizza Paradiso for a final meal before collecting our bags and heading for the train.
I'll try and add pictures and links soon.
Anyway, we had a spiffy few days in London, marred only by my being rather unwell on Monday 19th (I'm unsure whether to blame the curry or the chill I caught sat in the BFI - the latter being ironic given that our first visit there had proven insufferably hot - a screening of the Lancaster classic 'The Killers').
Friday
Pizza Paradiso - of course, topped off with a glass of limoncello each on the house. Well, we were the last in there and they know us well after all these years.
A good walk round the block, picking up the tube back to the hotel and watching late night TV.
Saturday
Awake at ridiculous o'clock so we hit out for an early breakfast at Bar Brunos. We were so early even after finishing eating that staff were still breaking into Forbidden Planet so we headed round the block back to the tube to head to Marylebone. Visited Alfie's and marvelled at the prices for retro chic before wandering into Marylebone itself and into Daunts. Of course.
Stopped off for a half of much needed cider before getting the tube to Angel / Islington (no chuckling at the back there) and Neil walking me through the delights of Camden Passage where 1930s dresses were dazzling my eyes. Of course, all the ones I really loved (especially in Annie's) were at the higher end of the price range (though I noticed not as high as Alfie's prices were. Hmmm). Interstingly, we noticed when we dropped by Anthropologie - a shop I had nearly bought things from in Santa Monica where dresses were selling at approx $60 - that prices there made the one-off's of Annie's look VERY good value. £188 for a chain produced dress versus £180 for an original 1930s dress. Which do YOU think I would have gone for if I had been actually buying something...?!
On Saturday we also headed to the South Bank where we picked up the tickets for a screening of Butch Cassidy for the Sunday at the BFI.
We had a stop-off for Doctor Who which was... well, fun but on the could-do-better scale. Never mind.
A meal at Ristorante Cappuccetto near Cambridge Circus was a fine end to the day, with us ordering 3 mains between the two of us (well, I don't really count gnocchi with gorgonzola as a main, more of a side dish really) and a salad. I think the staff thought us mad, but we polished off the whole lot with ease.
A nice walk and then back to the hotel for more late TV.
Sunday
If it's Sunday in London, it's Spitalfields, S&M (and a very cheery waiter) and lots of wishing I lived nearer to this treat. Still, I saw my favourite designer Nina (of Enienay) and found some nice goodies for myself and Neil. Sadly my brain was possibly already frying as I completely forgot to use the visit to buy presents for people. Which just confirms the 'if it doesn't beep on my fone reminders, I will forget' syndrome I suffer from. Grr and apologies.
We then head to the South Bank to meet Poly (hello!!!) and have some very nice cheeses and chips before the film. The film of course was great, full of those sparkling one-liners for which Goldman so well-deserved his plaudits.
We regroup ourselves and head back to Brick Lane and have a very nice curry and then a long walk back via the City, Bank of England, Fleet Street and Covent Garden.
Monday
Did I say that London has been bright and beautiful for the whole trip? And no contrails either. Good job we weren't flying anywhere. We start the day late and head to Whitechapel for a visit to Freedom Press. Nice to support independent political bookshops. We then head back to town to grab a sandwich at Brunos before taking in a trip to the NPG for their Glastonbury and the Format Photography mini-shows (I rather like their one-room shows). We have a big night ahead, so while Neil visits Hausmanns I rest up reading my Doctor Who mag at the hotel, recuperating for the evening's visit to the theatre.
We have tickets for Enron which is fabulous, even if the characters are all unrepentant shits. There was a surprising number of bankers in the audience (go figure) but the performances and staging were wonderful - even if Neil was left somewhat traumatised by the unexpected sight of Sam West's moobs.
Tuesday
Breakfast at Brunos, moderately early and the staff are in fine form of chatty friendliness. We then go for a walk and wander to lots of new places. We see the first contrails of our stay, visit the sound sculpture of Bill Fontana at Somerset House (brilliantly evocative) and stand in the sun looking across the river. We stroll through the old bit of King's College (masked from the Strand side by its awful 20th century concrete frontage) - and I also note now that they have recently taken over some of Somerset House itself. We then head through to Inner Temple and Temple Church. I feel like I'm walking through Rumpole, Law and Order UK, Judge John Deed territory. We then wander into St Dunstan in the West with the giant clock strikers and then on to Sam Johnson's house (a great place to see!) and a further wander through the back streets towards Ely Place and St Etheldreda's Catholic church. We stop off for a drink at Ye Olde Mitre pub before we find ourselves in Hatton Gardens in jewelry territory and I amazingly find myself drawn to the a gorgeous Art Deco Sapphire and diamond ring. It is of course the most expensive of all the hundreds on display at a rocking £14,800. Cripes. (I can't find the item online of course, but trust me: it was beautiful)
We then set off wandering off through Lincoln's Inn Fields and marvel at the lush greenery and architecture of barrister land. We drop in for a quick visit to the oddity that is Freemason's Hall and finally head back to Pizza Paradiso for a final meal before collecting our bags and heading for the train.
I'll try and add pictures and links soon.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Thrilling! the Fourth Plinth as it should be
Am so sorry I missed seeing this live, but well done Krypto for his Thriller moves! Great to see the "There's probably no god, now stop worrying and enjoy your life" campaign getting such a high profile!
There's a video link (at the moment) to the One and Other website.
There's a video link (at the moment) to the One and Other website.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Visit to London: 4th August 2009 - including Waterhouse exhibition and a film
Our little legs and feet were pretty much dead by this point so walking needed to be kept to a minimum today. After checking out - but leaving our bags at reception - we headed for breakfast (a busy morning so it was down to Bruno's basement for us!) before wandering towards the Royal Academy.
I was keen to see the JW Waterhouse exhibition: I've long loved The Lady of Shallot (Tate Gallery) and though easy on the eye I coulnd't pass up the chance to see the images up close.
Sadly, Andrew 'Bastard' Lloyd Webber didn't deign to lend my very favourite Ophelia (which I have sadly never seen in the flesh). I have to confess this did rather taint my enjoyment of the show, but nevertheless the pictures are beautiful.
We then mooched over the South Bank and grabbed a seat in the snazzy back bar of the NFT (sorry, I must remember that it is no longer the National Film Theatre, but instead BFI Southbank: shame on me).
We then people watched the ad and film execs in the bar before we then settled in for the 2:10pm screening of Once Upon a Time in the West. The Greatest Western Ever Made. Fact.
This is such a favourite film of ours, we could not pass up the chance to see it on a big screen with a proper sound system.
And yes, I sobbed lots of tears every time Jill's Theme was played - quite possibly one of the most heart-tugging pieces of music in film. In its original version (and please don't force me to listen to inferior later recorded versions), this is just magnificent - that swoop over the rooftops from the station vividly called to mind whenever I hear it. In fact, the music for this is near perfect. And a spectacular film to match.
After that we hopped the tubes back to Store Street to end our trip as we began with a fine meal at Ristorante Olivelli Paradiso. Then it was off to collect our bags and trudge to St Pancras for the train home. Just enough time to collect some gifts and then home, home home.
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
I was keen to see the JW Waterhouse exhibition: I've long loved The Lady of Shallot (Tate Gallery) and though easy on the eye I coulnd't pass up the chance to see the images up close.
Sadly, Andrew 'Bastard' Lloyd Webber didn't deign to lend my very favourite Ophelia (which I have sadly never seen in the flesh). I have to confess this did rather taint my enjoyment of the show, but nevertheless the pictures are beautiful.
We then mooched over the South Bank and grabbed a seat in the snazzy back bar of the NFT (sorry, I must remember that it is no longer the National Film Theatre, but instead BFI Southbank: shame on me).
We then people watched the ad and film execs in the bar before we then settled in for the 2:10pm screening of Once Upon a Time in the West. The Greatest Western Ever Made. Fact.
This is such a favourite film of ours, we could not pass up the chance to see it on a big screen with a proper sound system.
And yes, I sobbed lots of tears every time Jill's Theme was played - quite possibly one of the most heart-tugging pieces of music in film. In its original version (and please don't force me to listen to inferior later recorded versions), this is just magnificent - that swoop over the rooftops from the station vividly called to mind whenever I hear it. In fact, the music for this is near perfect. And a spectacular film to match.
After that we hopped the tubes back to Store Street to end our trip as we began with a fine meal at Ristorante Olivelli Paradiso. Then it was off to collect our bags and trudge to St Pancras for the train home. Just enough time to collect some gifts and then home, home home.
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
London and other things
Had an excellent weekend in London -
Food: two meals at Pizza Paradiso on Store Street (we're so recognised now we get offered drinks on the house!), two breakfasts at Bar Brunos on Wardour Street, breakfast at the S&M cafe near Spitalfields market, a curry at the small branch of The Shampan on Brick Lane, tea in the crypt of St Martin-in-the-fields, Med Kitchen at Cambridge Circus
Arts and museums: the NPG, the National Gallery (for the Picasso), Tate Modern (for the Rodchenko and Popova exhibition and tea/cake), the V&A for the Stephen Jones Hats exhibition and a visit through the Photography room and the Theatre and Performance rooms,
Fashion: Spitalfields market and the very lovely Nina of Enienay (I have a new dress!) and Patch (Neil has a new shirt!), a dip into Rokit on Brick Lane (and a spiffy second-hand long red suede coat), tights and socks from Tabio on Neal Street and a new summer frock and a fancy hat from IMSO also on Neal Street
Music: music purchases from MDC Southbank and Rough Trade Truman Brewery, classical lunchtime concert of Stravinsky and Poulenc by Simon Hewitt Jones on violin at St Martins-in-the-fields church
Books: Judd Street, Eastside on Brick Lane, Southbank book stalls and more
Miscellaneous: new headfone covers from Tottenham Court Road (since I started Friday by losing one of the foam covers from Neil's headfones), lots of walking through the City and Fleet Street, and drinks in the Chandos with a friend.
Oh yeah - and I nipped back to the hotel Saturday evening for a delirium inducing hour of Primeval (currently with gorgeous hair).
PS got caught in a fracas between two homeless guys arguing their patch on Saturday night. But no major harm done. Just a bit shook up.
Food: two meals at Pizza Paradiso on Store Street (we're so recognised now we get offered drinks on the house!), two breakfasts at Bar Brunos on Wardour Street, breakfast at the S&M cafe near Spitalfields market, a curry at the small branch of The Shampan on Brick Lane, tea in the crypt of St Martin-in-the-fields, Med Kitchen at Cambridge Circus
Arts and museums: the NPG, the National Gallery (for the Picasso), Tate Modern (for the Rodchenko and Popova exhibition and tea/cake), the V&A for the Stephen Jones Hats exhibition and a visit through the Photography room and the Theatre and Performance rooms,
Fashion: Spitalfields market and the very lovely Nina of Enienay (I have a new dress!) and Patch (Neil has a new shirt!), a dip into Rokit on Brick Lane (and a spiffy second-hand long red suede coat), tights and socks from Tabio on Neal Street and a new summer frock and a fancy hat from IMSO also on Neal Street
Music: music purchases from MDC Southbank and Rough Trade Truman Brewery, classical lunchtime concert of Stravinsky and Poulenc by Simon Hewitt Jones on violin at St Martins-in-the-fields church
Books: Judd Street, Eastside on Brick Lane, Southbank book stalls and more
Miscellaneous: new headfone covers from Tottenham Court Road (since I started Friday by losing one of the foam covers from Neil's headfones), lots of walking through the City and Fleet Street, and drinks in the Chandos with a friend.
Oh yeah - and I nipped back to the hotel Saturday evening for a delirium inducing hour of Primeval (currently with gorgeous hair).
PS got caught in a fracas between two homeless guys arguing their patch on Saturday night. But no major harm done. Just a bit shook up.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Normblog's Posterity Poll
1. Poet
2. Playwright
3. Novelist
4. Composer
5. Jazz musician
6. Rock or pop star/group
7. Country music ditto
8. Movie director
9. Painter
10. Photographer
11. Sculptor
12. Architect
Now, you can have some transferable votes within this poll. SO - if you wish to nominate more than one poet (for example), you can, BUT you have to sacrifice your vote in another category. And you must vote in 9 categories as a minimum.
Norm's choices are:
1. Poet: W.B. Yeats, T.S. Eliot
2. Playwright: Shakespeare
3. Novelist: Jane Austen
4. Composer: Beethoven
5. Jazz musician: Louis Armstrong, Thelonious Monk
6. Rock or pop star/group: Bob Dylan
7. Country music ditto: Emmylou Harris
8. Movie director: Hitchcock, Peckinpah
9. Painter: Rembrandt
10. Photographer: transfer to 1
11. Sculptor: transfer to 5
12. Architect: transfer to 8
Now here, with instinctive thought, is my list. I better submit it or I will definitely change my mind at least once!
1. Poet - PB Shelley
2. Playwright - Shakespeare (obvious, but necessary)
3. Novelist - Charlotte Bronte
4. Composer - Arvo Part
5. Jazz musician - Gilad Atzmon (even though beyond his music he can be a tad of an asshole)
6. Rock or pop star/group - Einsturzende Neubauten, Nick Cave
7. Country music - Nina Nastasia
8. Movie director - Terry Gilliam (not because he's the best but because I think he would intriguingly show what film can do)
9. Painter - Frida Kahlo
10. Photographer - Cindy Sherman
11. Sculptor - transfer to 6
12. Architect - Pugin
2. Playwright
3. Novelist
4. Composer
5. Jazz musician
6. Rock or pop star/group
7. Country music ditto
8. Movie director
9. Painter
10. Photographer
11. Sculptor
12. Architect
Now, you can have some transferable votes within this poll. SO - if you wish to nominate more than one poet (for example), you can, BUT you have to sacrifice your vote in another category. And you must vote in 9 categories as a minimum.
Norm's choices are:
1. Poet: W.B. Yeats, T.S. Eliot
2. Playwright: Shakespeare
3. Novelist: Jane Austen
4. Composer: Beethoven
5. Jazz musician: Louis Armstrong, Thelonious Monk
6. Rock or pop star/group: Bob Dylan
7. Country music ditto: Emmylou Harris
8. Movie director: Hitchcock, Peckinpah
9. Painter: Rembrandt
10. Photographer: transfer to 1
11. Sculptor: transfer to 5
12. Architect: transfer to 8
Now here, with instinctive thought, is my list. I better submit it or I will definitely change my mind at least once!
1. Poet - PB Shelley
2. Playwright - Shakespeare (obvious, but necessary)
3. Novelist - Charlotte Bronte
4. Composer - Arvo Part
5. Jazz musician - Gilad Atzmon (even though beyond his music he can be a tad of an asshole)
6. Rock or pop star/group - Einsturzende Neubauten, Nick Cave
7. Country music - Nina Nastasia
8. Movie director - Terry Gilliam (not because he's the best but because I think he would intriguingly show what film can do)
9. Painter - Frida Kahlo
10. Photographer - Cindy Sherman
11. Sculptor - transfer to 6
12. Architect - Pugin
Friday, November 23, 2007
SwitchOn Posters
With due credit to Stu N who directed me to this poster for the recent Decemberists gig in Wolverhampton, I had a browse of the rest of the site output.
I especially loved this Glasgow 2007 Decemberists poster. Hmmm.... pretty pictures...!
I especially loved this Glasgow 2007 Decemberists poster. Hmmm.... pretty pictures...!
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Dickie Attenborough's crockery
By Picasso of course...
I think Cloud's writing on this more, but at Leicester's New Walk Museum and Art Gallery there is a fabulous display of ceramics of Picasso's, all from the collection of Sheila and Richard Attenborough (he's a Leicester boy doncha know...).
The collection has been donated to Leicester - lucky sods - so this show only represented about 2/3 of the whole donation. It's a wonderful exibition.
I think Cloud's writing on this more, but at Leicester's New Walk Museum and Art Gallery there is a fabulous display of ceramics of Picasso's, all from the collection of Sheila and Richard Attenborough (he's a Leicester boy doncha know...).
The collection has been donated to Leicester - lucky sods - so this show only represented about 2/3 of the whole donation. It's a wonderful exibition.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
La Roche
You're no doubt right to complain if I have massacred your walls, of which I have always been a staunch admirer... But you do remember the origin of my undertaking. You said 'La Roche, when one has a fine collection as you have, you must have a house built which is worthy of it'. And my reply: 'Fine, Jeanneret, make this house for me'. Now, what happened? The completed house was so beautiful that, when I saw it, I exclaimed, 'It's almost a pity to put paintings in it'. Nevertheless, I said How could I do otherwise? Do I not have some obligations to my painters, of whom, indeed, you are one? I asked you for a 'frame for my collection' and you gave me a 'poem in walls'. Which of us was more to blame?Raoul La Roche to Le Courbusier, May 1926, Fondation Le Courbusier (Open University, 1984, p.35).
Reference List entry
Open University (1984) "Radiovision Programme 22: Le Courbusier and Raoul La Roche", Broadcast Notes 3: Modern Art and Modernism, Milton Keynes: The Open University, pp.33-35
Sorry, just found this in my mails and had to post it.
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