While trawling through the internet yesterday afternoon Dearbhile happened to come across a picture of myself and Tanya on the Elle Magazine website.
Tanya and I faintly remember a lovely lady asking to take our picture at the Swarvoski Rocks Giles party during London Fashion Week, cialis 40mginformation pills but what with all the cocktails, storehere and bizarre celebrity sightings, price we thought nothing more of it. Turns out our hounds tooth prints caused quite a stir. According to Elle they’re bang on trend this season, which is great news considering both items were fairly cheap vintage discoveries.
Visit the Elle page here and read the story of our night on the website.
Nestled in one side of London Fashion Week’s cavernous exhibition is the fascinating, more about intriguing and enlightening Estethica mini exhibition. Now in its fifth season, it is a celebration of all things eco, organic, and environmentally friendly.
Truthfully, Monsoon has only ever conjured up thoughts of a high street chain store catering for people on a budget who were clinging to the boho chic look of, oh you know, decades ago. Quel surprise! Monsoon are actually a strong force in ethical fashion markets and I was embarrassed by my naivety towards this fascinating label, which works with communities around the world to meet ethical standards of work and runs trusts to support children, working communities and families. Their clothing and accessories feature the finest examples of craftsmenship from around the world to ensure these glorious techniques stay within the public realm – embrodiery from Afghanistan, printing in India.
Monsoon here represents a host of fabulous brands who are challenging the constraints and, frankly, sticking the fingers up at fashion power houses. They are proving that there is simply no excuse for not being ethically minded. The handout states ‘only through a combined effort can designers, industry, government and consumers create a more sustainable clothing culture’. Agreed.
The heads of Estethica are having their feathers ruffled, though. In a society where everyone is becoming more aware of their social responsibilities (some, albeit, slower than others) it’s long become fashionable to be ethical. Sadly (but not surprisingly) brands are jumping on the band wagon. Labels are including ‘vintage scraps’ in their collections just to appeal to the conscious fashionista, or using fairtrade cotton in one t-shirt line and shouting it from the rooftops. Oh dear. So how do we know that this isn’t going on here? A green logo or a photograph of child smiling happily as he/she worked in cotton fields wasn’t going to be enough. Well, this season Estethica have appointed the Estethica partners – a team of individuals and organisations who subject anyone claiming to be ethical to rigid analysis and thorough checks. Okay, I’m convinced, now show me some hot looks!
Well, first up – Nitin Bal Chauhan. His vibrant, decadent jump suits and elegant (but still wild) tailored suits would fit perfectly into any fashion confident wardrobe. Launched in 2005, his fashion label promotes the ‘Himachal handloom and handicrafts industry by using exclusive fine woolen fabric,’ which is hand woven by skilled craftmen in Delhi, India. A eco-concious man, Nitin’s fashion label sisters his film and art projects, which promote similar causes to great effect, and to critical acclaim – no less than a nomination at the Asian Film Festival. A talented visionary and you should expect to see a lot more of him in the future.
If you were looking for a celebrity endorsed ethical label, look no further than the Environmental Justice Foundation. Luella Bartley and Christian Lacroix have already provided (free of charge, I might add) their own designs to apply to their ethically produced t-shirts. This season, step up http://women.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/women/fashion/article3369780.ece, Allegra Hicks, John Rocha and Zandra Rhodes, who provide their own take on earth matters. Giles’ tee is expectedly minimalist chic – a simple flower design, whilst Zandra’s is vibrant and playful. They’re designed with childhood as a theme – a tribute to the million plus children forced into labour. Suitably, all the profits go straight back into charitable causes, so grab one of these ‘must have ethical items’ before they’re gone.
I had a very interesting chat with a fabulous woman known only to me as Agent Zuzu. She wasn’t as illusive as her name sounds, and she did tell me her real name, mind you, but the second she told me it I knew I’d forget it. I’ll have to refer to her as Zuzu, sadly. Her assistant was a big fan of the magazine (natch), even quoting the countless bands and designers that Amelia’s has been a platform for. Zuzu (I’m sorry) is the promoter behind the eco label Makepiece who produce beautiful clothing, right here in the UK, with a conscious. They too want fabulous outfits – but they also want human rights, environmental sustainability, reduced chemicals and carbon footprints and an end to the landfill. They trust who they work with and all of their pieces are compostable (like you’d be throwing any of these items away). From the tightest knitted dresses with ruffle cap sleeves (produced ethically in North Yorkshire) to casual tops and skirts, fashion and style are no obstacle here with a range of colours and cuts.
Not all brands were about womenswear. Brazilian, youthful footwear brand Veja (Portugese for ‘look’) produces stylish footwear, not dissimilar to Shoreditch plimsolls – but with more of a choice than black or white. Organic cotton and wild rubber from the Amazon are fused together by Brazilian workers who are paid fairly for the craftsmenship, to produce stylish and practical footwear for fashion concious men and women.
Continuing with shoes, Beyond Skin claim to produce ‘beautiful AND ethical footwear’ and they proved this at the exhibition with a mixture of stiletos and flats in a varied colour pallete – neutrals, which seem to be popular this season, and brights.
…and there was so much more. I was exhausted. I was just about to leave this fascinating area of creativity, heading for the nearest, chicest bar where I could get a Chambord cocktail or a mug of tea, and I stumbled across Bllack Noir. This Danish label dispells any fears fashionistas might have about having to wear a shapeless hemp sack to wear ethical. Their lavish frocks and luxurious fabrics hold a secret – they’re ALL dreamed up and manufactured ethically. Luxury silk trousers, sharp, glittered tailored suits and bias cut dresses all feature and sit side by side any fashion powerhouse rival.
To see it for yourself visit their website which features all of their looks and displays an interesting (if not a little lengthy) code of practice to which all of their products are made.
There were over 40 brands on display in this part of the exhibition, too many to go through each in detail. If you’re interested in ethical fashion, do check out Article 23‘s fusion of smart menswear and sportswear, produced in India by a women’s cooperative; Deborah Lindquist‘s brave and edgy knitwear, made from – amongst other materials – recycled cashmere; Junky Styling and Revamp’s fantastic recycled clothing, catering for a the hip end of the market (where no two pieces are the same – everything re-cut and transformed from recycled charity shop goods); and so on.
Refreshingly though, this segment of the exhibition didn’t throw it in your face, as I had feared. I understand that this emotional technique is often needed, but I don’t think it was that necessary here – and after all, we’re here to interpret fashion. I think too much Save The Planet flapping would have distracted from the clothes themselves, and the resounding point is that with careful consideration, research and a conscience, you can still look fabulous.
1950s & 1960s is showing at the Photographers’ Gallery until the 16th November. The exhibition is a selection from three sources: Jean Straker, about itDavid Hurn and The Daily Herald newspaper, more about all of which document aspects of Soho during its rather peculiar epoch.
Images, historical images, rarely fail to spark up some sort of intense flash of nostalgia within me. Perhaps because such images show things gone forever: beautiful things, exhilarating and ominous things, which create a sense of loss, of missing out on a bygone era.
At the moment of the 50s, beehives and gin hummed through London, somewhat more voraciously than any previous 50s revival. It’s quite nice then to plunge into the place from which it all derived.
It seems today’s Soho is all but a faint charge of the former sexed up version, being now composed of some rather dreary sex shops and a denizen of bars. Maybe history romanticized Soho in the 50s. However I think Soho was, most certainly awash with something dark and glittering.
Unfortunately this isn’t really shown at The Photographers’ gallery, not really. There’s lots of nudes, and yes, that was a huge part of Soho, a vast part even, but it’s a bit dull after awhile. The photographs by David Hurn are quite funny (I just hope they’re supposed to be). They document Soho’s strippers both at work and resting. The strip clubs themselves are the funny bit. It’s a rather odd set up-the way seats are arranged around a boxing ring. Members of the audience have hilarious expressions, riddled with awkwardness.
There are some edited photos, accompanied by cuttings, all by anonymous photographers of the Daily Herald. These are the most interesting part. They capture the rush of excitement, the buzz that you think about when you think of Soho in the 50s and 60s. A plethora of crime, music, gin and Tommy Steele (whom I’d hadn’t ever heard of, and am not embarrassed to say so; but I am sure he was and is-for he still remains with us-spectacular. He looks like an awful lot of fun regardless.)
Soho Archives is ultimately a historical exhibition: it doesn’t really do anything. It only presents a small fragment of Soho which feels slightly limp.
Along side Dryden Goodwin’s exhibition Cast, this is going to be the last exhibition held at The Photographer’s gallery before it moves. Featuring an exhibition such as this does show the Galleries value of the importance of photographic Archives.
I’ve always loved France, visit this harbouring an intention to learn the French lingo for many years. I’m not being frivolous, try I can assure you. I am able to testify to my desire through my ginger cat, whom I named Francois and my half French boy. Oui, j’adore France! Kate Stables wanted to learn French too, so she moved to Paris. Always an observer of life’s idiosyncrasies, she found her vision could stretch even further when she left Bristol’s borough and sat within a caffeinated artery of France. Stables, the singer/musician/protagonist in This Is The Kit, defines the music they create as ‘Screamo/Emo/Flamenco’. Which in a sense it is. A feisty, heart dancing, spirited, emotional flounce. Folky but not in the jingly sense, more soulful and with minimal instruments.
Stables is an endearing, dark Rapunzel locked figure. Her voice shoots through you like the first sip of wine after a slog of a day, trapped in an unlit cave. You will find This Is The Kit will gently waft along on a gondolier, tell you it’s all ok, then fighting off the cave bats with their melodies, take you outside to some weeping willow adorned fairy land. She beholds a sound similar to Mary Hampton and Martha Tilston, but more girl next door in pronunciation, realness and the simplicity of lyrics. See: Two Wooden Spoons and Our Socks Forever More. The latter, sang with an acoustic guitar and ukelele, is about wanting to take off your shoes and socks forever more. ‘One of these days’ going to make it back ‘to your mattress’… but ‘I have a thing about sound sufficiency’. It’s a haunting, touching song about decisions, desires and, ‘that someone’. Moon has to be the most splendid of songs about first breath romance. After being lost in the skies, the couple come down, gasping for air and hit by reality. It has only a few lines, but manages an upbeat yet serious undertone feel to it. ‘We had the Moon’ says all it needs to.
It’s nice to be sitting down when you listen to This Is The Kit, with some Pear and Apple cider preferably, or indeed a cafe au lait, if you want to make it French. At many of their relaxed, low key shows (such as Village Halls) you can do this. However, This Is The Kit have also played with big Folk heros like Jeffrey Lewis in their time – so you’ll probably be somewhere bigger, without sitting potential and Maureen and Agnes’ tapestry collections festooning the wooden walls (shame). Multitalented Stables plays guitar, banjo, trumpet and percussion. Often she is joined on stage by her musical friends including Rozi Plain, Jim Barr and Francois and The Atlas Mountains. Tres Bon. Their latest album, Wriggle Out The Restless, on Dreamboat Records, was produced by long term collaborator, Jesse D Vernon, who also often plays on stage as a two piece with Stables.
Continuing to flit across the Channel, This Is The Kit are worth seeing whilst they are this side. They encourage the celebration of the pure and simple things in life. The joy from another person and the beauty right out there. French people will tell you about this: I quote Chamfort, the 18th century French playwright: “Contemplation often makes life miserable. We should act more, think less, and stop watching ourselves live.” Think about this, at a time when most of the world belongs to some form of networking site. Encouraging self evaluation, we discuss our loves, losses, diets and determinations into the abyss. France and This Is The Kit say: look out and to the people we care about.
This Is The Kit released their latest album Wriggle Out the Restless last week on Dreamboat Records. They are also touring at the moment. Catch them in London during mid November.
This is an odd place for a cabaret, buy information pills I thought as we cleared the little church yard only to find a gritty-looking chain pub and a wall of glass office buildings. The map on the phone screen yielded little clue as to where this Bath House place was, online but a second look around revealed a tiny kiosk covered in colourful tiles. Free-standing between the tall corporate buildings, erectile it looked like a doorway to the past, originally built as a Victorian Turkish Bathhouse. The building didn’t seem big enough to house a café, let alone a vaudeville troupe, but stepping inside it became clear the entertainment happened under ground, and the topside was just a teaser. The tiles continued down the stairs and into the lavish dining room, with marbled mosaic floors, elaborately decorated columns and candles everywhere. The original features were interspersed with modern artwork of elegant skeletons, human and animals, with an overall effect of elegant decadence. As the Boom Boom Club cabaret stars jostled behind the curtain, diners finished up their sticky puddings, shrugging off concerns of work in the morning and ordered a fresh round of cocktails for the main event.
Our host for the evening was the dazzling Dusty Limits, who immediately had us wrapped around his finger. Shimmying onto the little stage with his bleached-blond hair and dark eye make-up, he assured any animal rights supporters in the audience that the neck fur he kept stroking was indeed real. The performer, a leading figure in London’s neo-cabaret scene, entertained us with his at times macabre and downright filthy wit, not afraid of stealing drinks from the audience during his musical numbers. While hosts chatting during set changes are often just a filler in anticipation of the real entertainment, Dusty Limits is a true attraction in his own right. It’s not for delicate souls, as the words ‘Jesus’ and ‘dogging’ were indeed heard in the same sentence. This sort of thing can easily sound crude coming from a mediocre comedian, but I dare say Dusty Limits has enough charm and talent to get away with saying pretty much anything.
While the host is a staple of the Boom Boom Club every Thursday, the rest of the ensemble may vary slightly between each time. Last Thursday the curator of the burlesque performance, Vicky Butterfly, was absent, but instead we had Miss Miranda and Roxy Velvet charming us with their routines. In true burlesque tradition their clothes came off, but the added theatrical flair made the acts stand out. Especially Roxy Velvet put on a literally flaming show, with burning swords and a sparking gun – ahead of which the front row was prompted by Dusty Limits to ‘please lean back’. The burlesque starlet also wowed the audience by stubbing out a cigarette on her tongue – I have no idea whether this was a trick, but if it was, it is possible she’d been taught by magician duo Barry and Stuart. Entering the stage in unassuming, geeky suits, the well-tuned act started slow with a theatre-inspired magic act before making the crowd squeal and squirm in their seats as they added a touch of the macabre. I don’t want to ruin the surprise, but the lady in the audience did confirm the nail was real.
Boom Boom Club ensemble courtesy of The Bath House
The one element of the night which neglected to completely enthral the audience was possibly Adam One Man Destruction, a highly skilled one-man-band act. The artist played three instruments and sang at the same time – maybe it was Adam’s fault for making it look so easy, my friend pointed out. After all, our own co-ordination skills proved miserable as we failed at the old kids’ trick of tapping our thighs with one hand while stroking with the other at the same time.
Enthralled, however, is probably the right word to describe the effect Kaiki Hula had on her audience. Practically falling onto the stage in her ‘Madonna in the bad-ass years’ outfit, smeared make-up and empty booze bottle, she proceeded to literally rock her hula hoops along to Run D.M.C.’s jumping track ‘It’s tricky’. One hoop at first, adding more and more until the tiny girl, still in her boozy bad girl character, had at least seven hoops twirling in perfect control all across her body – not counting the two around her wrists. I have seen acrobat performers at cabarets before, but trust me when I say Kaiki Hula wipes the floor with them. For five minutes last Thursday, a hula hooper was the coolest girl in the world, twirling to abandon in front of a mesmerised audience with their jaws on the floor.
The Boom Boom Club entertains on Thursday nights at The Bath House. Find it at 7-8 Bishopsgate Churchyard, London EC2.
Written by Jessica Furseth on Wednesday October 27th, 2010 8:15 pm
Yes, help I admit this will be a series of massively late reviews, but I’m going by that age old edict, better late than never…. My first port of call at Tent London 2010 was the LAB CRAFT area; Digital Adventures in Contemporary Craft. A Crafts Council exhibition, it attempted to redefine what is meant by ‘craft’ in an age when we have so much digital technology at our disposal. Curated by Max Fraser, I found this arguably the most interesting part of the main exhibition.
Under the auspice of ‘Urban Camouflage’ Chelsea College of Art graduate Chae Young Kim had created the Knitted Room, soft hairlike lines on a wallpaper design – so fine that they could only have been made by a computer, of course. Hypnotically beautiful.
For Information Ate My Table Zachary Eastwood-Bloom had chomped through the side of a coffee table in a fabulous mathematically shaped design.
The Bravais Armchair by Lazerian was created from cardboard – but retails for a massive £1700. Steady now. It’s design was inspired by the structural columnar forms found in nature, and looks to be an idea that could easily be made using recycled materials, and potentially very cheaply at that. Unfortunately there was no mention of sustainability and given the high price it’s likely that the Bravais Armchair will remain available only to the very rich. Designer Liam Hopkins’ other work is inspired by wasp nests and crystals – stunning stuff, if only we could all benefit from such great design.
Daniel O’Riordan had created a stunning wood table, it’s surface subtly etched with the pattern of rain plopping onto water. He managed to get this effect by stimulating the effect with fluid dynamics software, the results of which were then milled into the oak table top.
A triangular bean bag by Jo Pierce was made from a digital textile design that was then digitally printed. A hand finish was given to the surface to still further mix up manufacturing mediums. Lost in Digital was an art piece that epitomises the way that most graphic artists currently work – created by the BA Print Pathway Leader in Textile Design at Central Saint Martins.
Philippa Brock had woven an amazing textile. Ignore the pretentious art name and marvel at Self Fold #1 and Self Fold #2, inspired by paper folding techniques. Despite digital intervention initial prototyping was done on hand looms and the resulting fabric is textured yet elastic.
Jo Hayes-Ward is an old friend, talented jewellery designer and graduate of the RCA. She works with traditional jewellery making processes such as lost wax casting to create complex, attractive rings and broaches embedded with digital patterns.
It goes without saying that these days almost all artisans embrace some level of technology, but this was a stunning collection of those who have really pushed the limits of their craftsmanship to encompass digital advances in design.
*News just in* LAB CRAFT will be going on tour soon: it visits these venues across the country: Turnpike Gallery
Civic Square, Greater Manchester, Leigh, WN7 1EB
30 October 2010 – 18 December 2010 Plymouth College of Art
Tavistock Place, Plymouth, PL4 8AT
10 January – 19 February 2011 New Brewery Arts Centre
Cirencester, Gloucestshire, GL7 1JH
11 March – 25 April 2011 Leamington Spa Art Gallery and Museum
Royal Pump Rooms, The Parade, Leamington Spa, CV32 4AA
29 September – 20 November 2011 The Civic
Hanson Street, Barnsley, S70 2HZ
30 November 2011 – 21 January 2012
With such dry, lookvisit ironic observations as ‘home is where the house is‘, thiscialis 40mgSuperabundance introduces itself as a melodious continuation of the faux-geek, visit web insightful pop-rock that first emerged in Voices of Animals and Men, but proceeds to take us on a spiralling journey into the dark depths of the Young Knives‘ psyche. In Terra Firma, we are confronted with the beginnings of the climactic incantations that slowly envelop us in a humming and howling hypnosis in Current of the River, which follows a sombre, medieval chant in the delightfully foreboding, pagan harmonies of Mummy Light the Fire. I don’t like to compare bands, but I found some of their wistful, nautical narratives redolent of the Decemberists‘ historical fictions.
While the insinuations of suicide in Counters left me feeling tempted to phone the three band members to see that they were alright, Rue the Days has a positively nonchalant nineties feel and Flies, a gentle meditation on the natural world, seems to encapsulate a recurring fascination with human-animal relationships; a little idiosyncratic perhaps, but I get the feeling this album is somewhat an eruption of the Young Knives’ musical multiple personality.
I listened to every word of the album, and realised it was poetry; a super abundance of philosophical metaphors immersed in a synthesis of unexpected genres, undulating from pensive, orchestral flickers to thick, satisfying explosions of bass, good old enthusiastic shouting and some of the catchiest hooks around. It may leave you weeping, but it may just as well have you running out the house in your dancing shoes.
Photograph by Jason Nocito
Thrilling things happen when oddballs get their hands on dance music, sickness and Hercules And Love Affair are the perfect latest example of that. These five colourful characters currently breathing new life into disco are an NYC-based collective comprising of Hawaiian-born jewellery designer/DJ Kim Ann Foxman, illness Amazonian CocoRosie and Debbie Harry collaborator Nomi, about it gay B-boy dancer Shayne, Miss Piggy-loving ex-waiter Andrew Butler and new rave hoodie-donning keyboardist Morgan. And then there’s Antony Hegarty of course, he of the Johnsons fame, and it is his beautifully crooning vocals combined with the pulsing rhythms, incessant bassline and playful horns of Blind that has worked both dancefloor enthusiasts and bloggers into a frenzy since it leaked onto the internet late last year.
The outfit’s self-titled debut is littered with more of his famously melancholic performances over shimmering beat-driven efforts, but do this eccentric bunch have the talent and songwriting capabilities to sustain an entire album? The answer is yes – by the bucketload. Hercules And Love Affair slinks delicately into action with dark and sultry opener Time Will as Hegarty pleads “I cannot be half a wife” repeatedly over finger clicks and minimal backing before segueing nicely into Hercules Theme; a more upbeat affair driven by sweeping strings, soft female vocals and discordant brass snatches. This track along with the light and breezy sway of Athene, Iris’ stripped down stomp and the headspin-inducing walking bassline and scat singing of closer True False/Fake Real prove that Butler and co. can shine magnificently even when they don’t play the Antony trump card. One trick ponies this lot certainly are not.
Blind, of course, is sumptuous, sounding more and more like a classic with every listen, but it is cushioned by album tracks that each stand up admirably alongside it, and which reference everything from Chicago house to punk funk, techno and disco simultaneously through the irresistible ice cold veneer conjured up by killer production duo main-man Butler and DFA’s Tim Goldsworthy. In fact, Hercules And Love Affair is the perfect example of an epic work so cleverly constructed that its wide-ranging influences seep out subtly instead of bombarding the listener. Heartbreaking and dramatic yet utterly danceable, it boasts intelligence, heart and soul and features musical prowess that will stop you dead in your tracks. Prepare for this to soundtrack your life for months to come.
Once upon a time there was a hunter, help who woke one day to find himself transformed into the deer he killed before he had rested. Is he now the hunter? Or is he the prey?
Fashion, illness performance, advice and storytelling merged into one as Daydream Nation’s design duo Kay and Jing presented their ominous tale ‘Good Night Deer’ at the Institute of Contemporary Arts. Whilst the audience sauntered in, a man stood behind the branched mic stand donning a furry animal head. He cackled, and whistled, and screeched, and crooned ‘There’s nothing in this world for you my dear’, whilst the band played at his side. The stage had morphed into a forest.
The lights dimmed, and the performers crept in with what looked like a white drum, acting as a moon. Each of them haunted the stage wearing sleeveless t-shirts in dark brown, with bark print on the front. By pulling them up over their heads giving the illusion of trees, the indoor theatre became a night scene. With all the garments made by manipulating old clothes, Kay and Jing create new myths each season. Two girls merged together in one outfit and became a deer, whilst others had t-shirts, and dresses in earthy beiges, browns and greens, and were embroidered with antlers and deer’s.
A large silver sheet was laid on the floor, with the hunter concealed beneath it. It rustled, and lifted, before finally revealing the deer. Looking up at its audience, it was literally a deer caught in the headlights. Draped coats fastened up with bows, and a brown pinafore was worn over a silk, blue blouse. Daydream Nation’s show was an utterly enjoyable evening, full of enthusiasm and creativity.
I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH.
Young Love is the beautifully melancholic ode of a one-night stand. The Mystery Jets are bang-on in featuring Laura Marling, more about the latest young darling of the music scene, tadalafil on the first single to be taken from their second album, Twenty One. I’ve never been a huge Mystery Jets fan (I wasn’t fooled, and I most certainly wasn’t called Denis) but the dialogue between Laura and Blaine telling both sides of a brief encounter won me over within the first ten seconds.
In a move I haven’t seen since the works of Jane Austen, the love affair is cut short by that damnably unpredictable British weather. Far from regarding this as twee, the lyrics “you wrote your number on my hand but it came off in the rain” melted my icily sarcastic heart.
Laura sings of how “young love never seems to last”, and it’s with this stark honesty the dialogue tells of the ephemeral nature of youthful liaisons and the quiet acceptance of the pains of growing up. It’s this self-effacing honesty combined with the vintage handclaps, oohs and aahs that create one of the best pop songs of this year.
Oh, and check out the video: it’s bound to be at the top of the YouTube hit parade in no time, as Laura and the Mystery Jet boys are involved in a game of human curling. Now that should be an Olympic sport. ‘Five Portraits of Cloth’, site a large scale, tadalafil cunningly crafted work by Jayne Archard could have been an enveloping piece – if it hadn’t had to compete with cramped canteen style tables and chairs. The Tricycle Gallery suffers a problem often seen in community arts spaces: areas are not properly defined, this meaning that an exhibition space can be transformed into a cinema’s ante-room, and a café’s overspill seating space. I’m all for showing artwork in something other than the traditional White Cube, but it can only be a hindrance to the work when you have to battle with a chair to see it properly.
‘Other Visible Things’ is part of the Tricycle Gallery’s Recent Graduates 2008 programme; giving artists like Archard and Knight valuable exposure that can be difficult to achieve so soon after graduation. Regrettably, in this case the work shown doesn’t function as well in the outside world as in the bubble of the art college – why should the artists assume that all the gallery goers would be able to read, or even care about, the references to conceptual art history? Adam Knight’s ‘Studio Corner (After Mel Bochner)‘(below) is an interesting photograph that investigates illusion and the documentation of a sculptural object, so why the need for the clever nudges and winks to those with a subscription to Art Review?
Even the title of this show is taken from Bochner‘s influential exhibition: ‘Working Drawings And Other Visible Things On Paper Not Necessarily Meant To Be Viewed As Art‘. In the confines of the art college studio, Archard and Knight’s works are accessible as the viewers are more likely to have a similar knowledge to that of the makers. In the Tricycle Gallery, a space attached to a café, theatre and cinema in Kilburn, the art history allusions can seem like an elitist in-joke. I can see that Knight’s work in particular could be viewed as a playful re-working of ideas about Minimalism and Conceptual Art, but unfortunately the humour falls short.
Walking into Gramaphone five minutes into Tom James Scott‘s set was not a good idea. His music sounded so delicate that even the whir of the drinks refrigerators was distracting, this web so the sound of a door opening and two stumbling youths almost threatened to destroy the ethereal atmosphere he had created. His fragile guitar sound had an almost filmic quality; evoking images of cinematic landscapes. The performance seemed shyly self conscious, order perhaps a little fractured, but in a way that only enhanced its subtle beauty.
The acapella sound that began Wounded Knee’s set also demanded the audience’s full attention: the quiet fell once more. The singular figure of Drew Wright concocted an alchemy of sounds that ranged from the ghostly to the jubilant. Relying on effects pedals to build up intricate and textured music, the songs still sounded firmly traditional. Who’d have thought that a looped kazoo and bassy scat singing could sound so Gaelic! His music contrasts a sense of history with a playful method of music-making to create a joyful racket.
Having been lulled into a state of wooziness by the last two acts, I’m not sure I was quite ready for Jenny Hoyston. Perhaps it wasn’t that well-considered a line up by Upset The Rhythm, as previously I was more than eager to see the solo efforts of Erase Errata’s vocalist/guitarist. Hoyston’s back and forth with the audience seemed to amuse most people present, but to me it jarred after the pathos of James Scott and Wounded Knee. However, there’s no doubt that the slightly scrappy sound of Hoyston and her drummer revived me slightly; driven on by the sparse yet considered drum sound. Brief, low fi songs shined when they included rhythmic Krautrock references. It’s just a shame that the vitality of Hoyston’s music seemed oddly displaced after the previous acts.
The toilet paper is really thin here in Brazil. And it’s tropical as all hell. In an invigorating, this though makes-me-wilt-severely kinda way. And that’s about all I have to complain about so far.
We’ve been here since Wednesday and since then it’s been non-stop. We touched down on Wednesday at 6.30am after a smooth and fairly non-eventful flight on a Brazilian airline. The lights inside the cabin were getting all new rave and glo-stick on us, prostate which I actually quite enjoyed. Plenty of leg room, this site and even better: not one, but TWO spare seats adjacent to us. I live for the movies and the food when I fly, and was really impressed with the whole thing until I settled in to watch Nanny Diaries, when halfway through it, it switched over to Pirates of the Caribbean in Portugese. Nooooooooo I’m forever doomed to the dis-satisfaction of never being bothered to want to watch the first half of that film again to get to the part where Nanny gets with cute boy and affects loving change in her employers’ lives.
The effects of global warming are clearly upon us. Whether it’s on the front page of the newspaper, stuff or staring us right in the face, abortionclimate change is the greatest environmental challenge facing us today. Blooming and reproducing in February; even nature and wildlife seem to be getting confused what time of year it is! The world seems to be wilting before our eyes. Environmental activists have been pushing the seriousness of this problem for a long time now, and thankfully the rest of the world are starting to take note. Artists, historically, are often first on the mark too, defining such issues. ‘Climate 4 Change’ exhibition does just that.
Leaflets and posters emblazoned with ‘Campaign against climate change’, and ‘Do you know the constitution of human rights?’ overwhelmed me as I entered. The smell of incense hit my nose.
Allie Biswas’ ‘No Rave’ painting (below) propped against the wall on the floor. Her abstract blue painting was organic, with orange, green and yellow forms, often dripping down the canvas. Frustrated with the ‘anonymous’ theme running throughout the exhibition, she claimed her work by scribbling her name on a post-it-note, and sticking it to the wall.
In the ‘Bombastic Bureau’, a man with his oversized army jacket, wearing a shiny wrestling mask protests: ‘Don’t worry I’m here, here to kill the rabbit!’ As the notes on a keyboard haunted the space, on the wall were projections of war. In a small room on its own was a short film where hands pushed and pulled, gripped and slipped throughout, defining gravity.
There was a small, perspex house, suitable for a hamster, but filled with furniture, beds, a TV, kitchen, even a parked car outside. Sawdust covered the floor, and food pellets spilled over the sink. Opposite, a man sat on the floor and asked me to shred pages of newspaper. As I proceeded on doing so, he took the tears, put them in a sealable food bag, and signed it ‘Don’. “What does it mean?” I asked, “It would take too long, I’ll tell you in the pub afterwards! Make of it what you want,” he replied. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to make of it, and maybe he didn’t either, but the bag is sitting next to me now, so thank you Don!
Glasgow School of Arts textiles degree has churned out some pretty talented folk in its time; Jonathan Saunders and Pam Hogg are just two of their previous students. So all eyes will be on the graduates showcasing their womenswear collections in the Fashion as Textiles show at the Atrium Gallery. This exhibition aims to explore the relationship between textiles and fashion and dispel the idea of these as two separate disciplines.
Suspended from the ceiling Emmi Lahtinen‘s simple shift dresses hang like clouds, more about weightless yet substantial. Inspired by Finnish minimalism and Cecil Beaton, Lahtinen’s dresses embody a sense of light, depth and wonder. Her rain-soaked palate of greys, blues and greens are created using a mixture of screen printing and dying with digital inkjets.
Inspired by the stained glass windows in Glasgow’s Burrell Collection, Lori Marshall’s collection features high-waisted leggings with digital-prints of stained glass, laser etched velour and layered tops of sheer fabric with Tudor-style ruffled necklines.
Florence To moves away from conventional approaches to textile design. Working in neutral colours, To wraps strips of raffia and polyvinyl around wooden rings. These are linked together to create large-scale accessories, which are draped over tailored silhouettes, creating serene and lightweight designs.
Combining woven fabrics with synthetic materials, Shona Douglas’ collection challenges traditional approaches to weaving. Using raw edged silks and wools cut to fold around the body, Douglas’s skirts and tunics combine a rough-hewn aesthetic with a minimalist approach.
Huddling in the corner like a murder of crows, Louise Browns blue and black coats are dramatic and elegant, featuring appliquéd velvet roses, and topped with light-as-moor-mist ruffles. Brown focuses on volume and as a quote from Coco Chanel overhead reminds us: ‘Fashion is architecture, it is a matter of proportions’.
Although the layout of the Atrium means that some of the students have had to cramp their work into one corner, the gallery is flooded is light and its size allows intimacy, encouraging a closer view of the clothes and highlighting the details that are missed in fashion shows. That these textiles stand up to this level of scrutiny is a testimony to the talent of these promising designers.
Written by Kirsteen Connor on Monday February 25th, 2008 12:24 pm
Once upon a time large scale photo walls were the province of bars, offices and other imposing spaces which could afford extravagant interior design. That has all changed with the advent of Photowall, which works with photographers, artists and designers from around the world to create bespoke wallpapers and canvas prints using cutting-edge digital print technologies. These artworks can be used to personalise homes as well as workplaces. I set out to discover the best that Photowall has to offer.
Space Age Buddy in blue by Lost Bird Design for Photowall.
Photowall sell photorealistic murals (a picture perfect scene of autumnal leaves), and reprints of classic artworks such as Klimt, but my favourite murals come from a range of contemporary designers.
Scandinavian designers are well represented with typically unusual designs. One recent addition to the Photowall staple is Lost Bird Design by Malin Stenströmer, who mixes Japanese patterns, modern and retro iconography. Birds are of course in abundant supply.
Swedish designer Anna Pernilla has created this lovely alphabet wall featuring letters and animals, prefect for a child’s bedroom.
Anna Backlund goes for surreal depictions entwining urban images and nature. This mural creates a ‘city view’ with cardboard cutouts of mountains and smoke stacks.
Clara Terne for Nu Agency has made this colourful symmetrical pattern, reminiscent of bacteria and kaleidoscopes.
I also like Rina Donnersmarck, who was inspired by the mountains and forests of southern Germany to create this decorative image.
British illustrator Julia Pott will be a familiar name to many, and alongside her instantly recognisable animal designs (see the top of this blog) there is this wonderful street scene from Brussels. And if none of the designers catch your eye there’s always the option to upload your very own images. For more information see www.photowall.co.uk
Wall mural by Emma Lofstrom for Nu Agency.
Brought to you in association with Photowall. Be assured I only write about things that I think my readers will be interested in x
Written by Amelia Gregory on Monday February 11th, 2013 10:34 pm
Alex Gene Morrison’s art can’t help but attract attention. Despite being displayed on a backward-facing wall, mindpurchase the second I walk into the ‘The Future Is Now’ show, website like this my eye is drawn straight to it. He is exhibiting three large canvases; each of a painted face, buy more about but it is the middle one that I find most conspicuous. The head, body and hair are hidden under a dense layer of matt black paint, leaving only a set of menacing eyes in the picture. The larger than life size does nothing to mask the unnatural peculiarity of Morrison’s portraits either. My walk around, champagne glass in hand, takes me past the odd inspiring piece. Somewhere on a balcony above me I spy a tower of precariously balanced teacups that look fairly beautiful from afar. Still on the ground floor, however, I stop to admire a row of miniature portraits, skilfully painted in muted colours. Each displays a varying degree of abnormality – none of the delicate faces are by any means normal.
David Hancock‘s enormous, hyper-real landscape is definitely something to be seen. Vaguely reminding me of one of those children’s T-shirts with unicorns, hills and fairy dust on, the canvas depicts a fantasy mountain scene, with wonderful skies and a dreamlike river. Hancock has chosen to makes certain parts of the canvas 3D, presumably using something lumpy like mod-rock to create an unsatisfying surface you want to reach out and touch.The piece that really stayed with me that evening though was by Alexis Milne.
Whilst scanning some art on the other side of the room I caught sight of Amelia and the crew hovering around a small, darkly painted shack. On closer inspection I discover that inside the hut is the scariest clown I have ever seen, complete with tarot cards and a fake American accent. Pinned to the walls are various masks of animals and child-like paintings. The clown (perhaps Milne himself?) is reading Amelia’s ‘tarot cards’ in his loud,phoney, and frankly creepy voice. He tells her that she is a horny schizophrenic. I decide I must also have a go while we’re there. He wastes no time in telling me that I am to end up a chariot racing, lap dancer with a fondness of eating.
Hmm. He also makes me wear a creepy cat mask whilst talking to him, so I understand this is to be taken with more than a pinch of salt. On the whole ‘The Future Is Now’ show displays an array of style, quality and substance in the pieces they have chosen to exhibit. I am left feeling overwhelmed (it really is quite a big exhibition) but more importantly inspired.
Photography: Amelia innit!
Photo 1: Sophie, Anna, James and Tim
Written by Jess Watkins on Thursday November 1st, 2007 3:29 pm
190809_theunthanks[1]thumb
Illustration by Rob Fuzzard
It was fitting that they transformed their faces to serious and focused, adiposity when the first notes were hit. They were deep in the hills of the North of England, visit this singing of shutting the coal door, not in a dark, hot building by the Avon River. Rachel is pregnant. They are wearing dresses that look like fresh versions of the past. And their hair is worn long and embracing of its natural waves and kinks. The Unthanks are wholesome and true. True to their families, friends, dear home and folk music. Their Northern roots infiltrate everything from the lilt of the pronunciation of lyrics; ‘luvley’, to the songs they choose to sing. My image is of them as land girls, wearing cream wooly jumpers, dresses and wellington boots. In the evening they sit around the fire of a single glazed, rambling cottage, singing from right within. Where the truth lies.
And indeed, in their Northumberland home, the Unthank family would partake in group singing. Their father George, is part of a folk group called The Keelers that specialised in robust sea shanties of the north-east, their mother is a stalwart of local choirs, and they were brought up at festivals and folk clubs. Rachel, the older of the two sisters, who looks like peace personified said: “This is amazing, a privilege and an honour, to be up here singing like this. Of course. But there something about singing with lots of people, that’s just… good for the soul.”
Rachel’s speaking voice is high, full of character, vibrancy and northern accent. Her eyes close as she sings and sways, stroking her baby bump to the instrumental breaks. She loves music and singing for its remedial, loving, relaxing, spiritual and bringing together prowess. As does Becky, her sister. Recently engaged we are told, she is funny, lower toned in voice and smoother. More of the honey to Rachel’s jam. Homemade and paired with the band (butter and bread… this metaphor accidentally went further than anticipated), they are your next level folk. Playing the piano, violin, fiddle, viola, cello, double bass, drums, guitar and ukulele, they are all stunning, and together make for a polished and encompassing sound. The beauty and love of the music they’re all creating, their sole focus. Not lumberjack shirts and shiny belt buckles.
The girls themselves don’t hold an ounce of arrogance, and are both entirely likeable, modest and genuine in their performance and stage presence. The confidence that’s so rosy, and tangible seems to be from deep within, from a stable and unmoving place.
But they could be all over themselves. With a Mercury Award Nomination in 2008, being named as one of Best Albums of The Decade in Uncut and The Observer for The Bairns (out on EMI), as well as BBC Folk Awards and many others. Why didn’t I know of them before? Or my evening’s accomplice. As the evening went on, I found myself increasingly mesmerised and indadvertedly swaying in a progressive daze.
They sing of drunks, pubs, Newcastle Brown Ale, men, sweat, bosoms, daily life and poverty – STORIES of England of the North, the land, the people, the past. With the strings behind them, they sing everything tenderly, slowly and with an enormous wedge of sadness. But it’s hard to feel sadness with them, it’s more that they disarm you and fill you with beautiful sounds and truths. Things aren’t and never have been idyllic for everyone, forever.
Between tracks they chat leisurely about where they found their songs, and banter with the piano player, and husband of Rachel, Adrian McNally. Rachel talks of the need we have now for music that strikes chord and brings people together. Such as the North East mining songs, full of trouble, strife and heartbreak. There is a comradery in folk music, and a wholesome edge that is inescapable. It’s English summers, rolling hills and blustery mountain tops. It’s reality and being unafraid of it. It’s the soundtrack to what we discover when we experience something that flicks the deep, dark switch. One weekend, after trundling out of our home and switching the telly off, a walk by the ocean, some awful news, a baby’s birth, right then and there we see and feel light and free. We vow to repeat our actions again asap; “we should do that again darling.”, or never take things for granted, because we’ve realised what life is about. They know, The Unthanks. They get it.
One song featured the two girls singing unaccompanied, Rachel giving ‘advice’ to Becky on marriage. “You’d better be a maid all the days of your life, Better me a maid as a poor man’s wife.” They laughed about it, and smiled broadly to each other and then out to the audience. Another track; The Gallowgate Lad, is about a girl crying alone in Newcastle. Someone asks her; ‘What’s wrong?’ A mistake, as it can be. The piano dancing notes, paired with the story telling Becky, alone on stage, is a tremendous mix, full of drama, reviving the angst of past encounters. A number of other songs also featured the use of mighty clog dancing by Becky. Whilst Rachel sat on a chair for a mini rest, Becky tapped and stomped on stage. This was delightful and served to enhance my own desire to own clogs. Excellent skill! They also treated us to a song from the soundtrack of archive footage of Newcastle, they had performed at the Tyneside Cinema recently. They sang of the docks, the ale and the banter in their hauntingly joined voices.
Becky and Rachel put on a superb show, and yet it didn’t even feel like a *SHOW*, it felt as if we were in their living room, by the fire, with knitted cream jumpers and hot toddies, all singing together. It was warming to the heart and soul. Incidentally The Unthanks run weekends of singing in Northumberland, so perhaps check them out if you want some of your own sing song jubilation. For now check out this video. You can buy all their albums now; The Bairns and Here’s The Tender Coming are both out on EMI, and Last, on Rabble Rouser.
It was fitting that they transformed their faces to serious and focused, more about when the first notes were hit. They were deep in the hills of the North of England, pharmacy singing of shutting the coal door, not in a dark, hot building by the Avon River. Rachel is pregnant. They are wearing dresses that look like fresh versions of the past. And their hair is worn long and embracing of its natural waves and kinks. The Unthanks are wholesome and true. True to their families, friends, dear home and folk music. Their Northern roots infiltrate everything from the lilt of the pronunciation of lyrics; ‘luvley’, to the songs they choose to sing. My image is of them as land girls, wearing cream wooly jumpers, dresses and wellington boots. In the evening they sit around the fire of a single glazed, rambling cottage, singing from right within. Where the truth lies.
And indeed, in their Northumberland home, the Unthank family would partake in group singing. Their father George, is part of a folk group called The Keelers that specialised in robust sea shanties of the north-east, their mother is a stalwart of local choirs, and they were brought up at festivals and folk clubs. Rachel, the older of the two sisters, who looks like peace personified said: “This is amazing, a privilege and an honour, to be up here singing like this. Of course. But there something about singing with lots of people, that’s just… good for the soul.”
Rachel’s speaking voice is high, full of character, vibrancy and northern accent. Her eyes close as she sings and sways, stroking her baby bump to the instrumental breaks. She loves music and singing for its remedial, loving, relaxing, spiritual and bringing together prowess. As does Becky, her sister. Recently engaged we are told, she is funny, lower toned in voice and smoother. More of the honey to Rachel’s jam. Homemade and paired with the band (butter and bread… this metaphor accidentally went further than anticipated), they are your next level folk. Playing the piano, violin, fiddle, viola, cello, double bass, drums, guitar and ukulele, they are all stunning, and together make for a polished and encompassing sound. The beauty and love of the music they’re all creating, their sole focus. Not lumberjack shirts and shiny belt buckles.
The girls themselves don’t hold an ounce of arrogance, and are both entirely likeable, modest and genuine in their performance and stage presence. The confidence that’s so rosy, and tangible seems to be from deep within, from a stable and unmoving place.
But they could be all over themselves. With a Mercury Award Nomination in 2008, being named as one of Best Albums of The Decade in Uncut and The Observer for The Bairns (out on EMI), as well as BBC Folk Awards and many others. Why didn’t I know of them before? Or my evening’s accomplice. As the evening went on, I found myself increasingly mesmerised and indadvertedly swaying in a progressive daze.
They sing of drunks, pubs, Newcastle Brown Ale, men, sweat, bosoms, daily life and poverty – STORIES of England of the North, the land, the people, the past. With the strings behind them, they sing everything tenderly, slowly and with an enormous wedge of sadness. But it’s hard to feel sadness with them, it’s more that they disarm you and fill you with beautiful sounds and truths. Things aren’t and never have been idyllic for everyone, forever.
Between tracks they chat leisurely about where they found their songs, and banter with the piano player, and husband of Rachel, Adrian McNally. Rachel talks of the need we have now for music that strikes chord and brings people together. Such as the North East mining songs, full of trouble, strife and heartbreak. There is a comradery in folk music, and a wholesome edge that is inescapable. It’s English summers, rolling hills and blustery mountain tops. It’s reality and being unafraid of it. It’s the soundtrack to what we discover when we experience something that flicks the deep, dark switch. One weekend, after trundling out of our home and switching the telly off, a walk by the ocean, some awful news, a baby’s birth, right then and there we see and feel light and free. We vow to repeat our actions again asap; “we should do that again darling.”, or never take things for granted, because we’ve realised what life is about. They know, The Unthanks. They get it.
One song featured the two girls singing unaccompanied, Rachel giving ‘advice’ to Becky on marriage. “You’d better be a maid all the days of your life, Better me a maid as a poor man’s wife.” They laughed about it, and smiled broadly to each other and then out to the audience. Another track; The Gallowgate Lad, is about a girl crying alone in Newcastle. Someone asks her; ‘What’s wrong?’ A mistake, as it can be. The piano dancing notes, paired with the story telling Becky, alone on stage, is a tremendous mix, full of drama, reviving the angst of past encounters. A number of other songs also featured the use of mighty clog dancing by Becky. Whilst Rachel sat on a chair for a mini rest, Becky tapped and stomped on stage. This was delightful and served to enhance my own desire to own clogs. Excellent skill! They also treated us to a song from the soundtrack of archive footage of Newcastle, they had performed at the Tyneside Cinema recently. They sang of the docks, the ale and the banter in their hauntingly joined voices.
Becky and Rachel put on a superb show, and yet it didn’t even feel like a *SHOW*, it felt as if we were in their living room, by the fire, with knitted cream jumpers and hot toddies, all singing together. It was warming to the heart and soul. Incidentally The Unthanks run weekends of singing in Northumberland, so perhaps check them out if you want some of your own sing song jubilation. For now check out this video. You can buy all their albums now; The Bairns and Here’s The Tender Coming are both out on EMI, and Last, on Rabble Rouser.
Rachel is pregnant. They are wearing dresses that look like fresh versions of the past. And their hair is worn long and embracing of its natural waves and kinks. The Unthanks are wholesome and true. True to their families, advice friends, cialis 40mg dear home and folk music. Their Northern roots infiltrate everything from the lilt of the pronunciation of lyrics; ‘luvley’, to the songs they choose to sing. My image is of them as land girls, wearing cream wooly jumpers, dresses and wellington boots. In the evening they sit around the fire of a single glazed, rambling cottage, singing from right within. Where the truth lies.
And indeed, growing up in their Northumberland home, the Unthank family would partake in group singing. Their father George, is part of a folk group called The Keelers that specialised in robust sea shanties of the north-east, their mother is a stalwart of local choirs, and they were brought up at festivals and folk clubs. Rachel, the older of the two sisters, who looks like peace personified said: “This is amazing, a privilege and an honour, to be up here singing like this. Of course. But there something about singing with lots of people, that’s just… good for the soul.”
Rachel’s speaking voice is high, full of character, vibrancy and northern accent. Her eyes close as she sings and sways, stroking her baby bump to the instrumental breaks. She loves music and singing for its remedial, loving, relaxing, spiritual and bringing together prowess. As does Becky, her sister. Recently engaged we are told, she is funny, lower toned in voice and smoother. More of the honey to Rachel’s jam. Homemade and paired with the band (butter and bread… this metaphor accidentally went further than anticipated), they are your next level folk. Playing the piano, violin, fiddle, viola, cello, double bass, drums, guitar and ukulele, they are all stunning, and together make for a polished and encompassing sound. The beauty and love of the music they’re all creating, their sole focus. Not lumberjack shirts and shiny belt buckles.
The girls themselves don’t hold an ounce of arrogance, and are both entirely likeable, modest and genuine in their performance and stage presence. The confidence that’s so rosy, and tangible seems to be from deep within, from a stable and unmoving place.
But they could be all over themselves. With a Mercury Award Nomination in 2008, being named as one of Best Albums of The Decade in Uncut and The Observer for The Bairns (out on EMI), as well as BBC Folk Awards and many others. Why didn’t I know of them before? Or my evening’s accomplice. As the evening went on, I found myself increasingly mesmerised and indadvertedly swaying in a progressive daze.
They sing of drunks, pubs, Newcastle Brown Ale, men, sweat, bosoms, daily life and poverty – STORIES of England of the North, the land, the people, the past. With the strings behind them, they sing everything tenderly, slowly and with an enormous wedge of sadness. But it’s hard to feel sadness with them, it’s more that they disarm you and fill you with beautiful sounds and truths. Things aren’t and never have been idyllic for everyone, forever.
Between tracks they chat leisurely about where they found their songs, and banter with the piano player, and husband of Rachel, Adrian McNally. Rachel talks of the need we have now for music that strikes chord and brings people together. Such as the North East mining songs, full of trouble, strife and heartbreak. There is a comradery in folk music, and a wholesome edge that is inescapable. It’s English summers, rolling hills and blustery mountain tops. It’s reality and being unafraid of it. It’s the soundtrack to what we discover when we experience something that flicks the deep, dark switch. One weekend, after trundling out of our home and switching the telly off, a walk by the ocean, some awful news, a baby’s birth, right then and there we see and feel light and free. We vow to repeat our actions again asap; “we should do that again darling.”, or never take things for granted, because we’ve realised what life is about. They know, The Unthanks. They get it.
One song featured the two girls singing unaccompanied, Rachel giving ‘advice’ to Becky on marriage. “You’d better be a maid all the days of your life, Better me a maid as a poor man’s wife.” They laughed about it, and smiled broadly to each other and then out to the audience. Another track; The Gallowgate Lad, is about a girl crying alone in Newcastle. Someone asks her; ‘What’s wrong?’ A mistake, as it can be. The piano dancing notes, paired with the story telling Becky, alone on stage, is a tremendous mix, full of drama, reviving the angst of past encounters. A number of other songs also featured the use of mighty clog dancing by Becky. Whilst Rachel sat on a chair for a mini rest, Becky tapped and stomped on stage. This was delightful and served to enhance my own desire to own clogs. Excellent skill! They also treated us to a song from the soundtrack of archive footage of Newcastle, they had performed at the Tyneside Cinema recently. They sang of the docks, the ale and the banter in their hauntingly joined voices.
Becky and Rachel put on a superb show, and yet it didn’t even feel like a *SHOW*, it felt as if we were in their living room, by the fire, with knitted cream jumpers and hot toddies, all singing together. It was warming to the heart and soul. Incidentally The Unthanks run weekends of singing in Northumberland, so perhaps check them out if you want some of your own sing song jubilation. For now check out this video. You can buy all their albums now; The Bairns and Here’s The Tender Coming are both out on EMI, and Last, on Rabble Rouser.
Rachel is pregnant. They are wearing dresses that look like fresh versions of the past. And their hair is worn long and embracing of its natural waves and kinks. The Unthanks are wholesome and true. True to their families, nurse friends, what is ed dear home and folk music. Their Northern roots infiltrate everything from the lilt of the pronunciation of lyrics; ‘luvley’, pill to the songs they choose to sing. My image is of them as land girls, wearing cream wooly jumpers, dresses and wellington boots. In the evening they sit around the fire of a single glazed, rambling cottage, singing from right within. Where the truth lies.
And indeed, growing up in their Northumberland home, the Unthank family would partake in group singing. Their father George, is part of a folk group called The Keelers that specialised in sea shanties of the north-east, their mother is a member of local choirs, and they always attended festivals and folk clubs. Rachel, the older of the two sisters, who looks like peace personified said: “This is amazing, a privilege and an honour, to be up here singing like this. Of course. But there something about singing with lots of people, that’s just… good for the soul.”
Rachel’s speaking voice is high, full of character, vibrancy and northern accent. Her eyes close as she sings and sways, stroking her baby bump to the instrumental breaks. She loves music and singing for its remedial, loving, relaxing, spiritual and bringing together prowess. As does Becky, her sister. Recently engaged we are told, she is funny, lower toned in voice and smoother. More of the honey to Rachel’s jam. Homemade and paired with the band (butter and bread… this metaphor accidentally went further than anticipated), they are your next level folk. Playing the piano, violin, fiddle, viola, cello, double bass, drums, guitar and ukulele, they are all stunning, and together make for a polished and encompassing sound. The beauty and love of the music they’re all creating, their sole focus. Not lumberjack shirts and shiny belt buckles.
The girls themselves don’t hold an ounce of arrogance, and are both entirely likeable, modest and genuine in their performance and stage presence. The confidence that’s so rosy, and tangible seems to be from deep within, from a stable and unmoving place.
But they could be all over themselves. With a Mercury Award Nomination in 2008, being named as one of Best Albums of The Decade in Uncut and The Observer for The Bairns (out on EMI), as well as BBC Folk Awards and many others. Why didn’t I know of them before? Or my evening’s accomplice. As the evening went on, I found myself increasingly mesmerised and indadvertedly swaying in a progressive daze.
They sing of drunks, pubs, Newcastle Brown Ale, men, sweat, bosoms, daily life and poverty – STORIES of England of the North, the land, the people, the past. With the strings behind them, they sing everything tenderly, slowly and with an enormous wedge of sadness. But it’s hard to feel sadness with them, it’s more that they disarm you and fill you with beautiful sounds and truths. Things aren’t and never have been idyllic for everyone, forever.
Between tracks they chat leisurely about where they found their songs, and banter with the piano player, and husband of Rachel, Adrian McNally. Rachel talks of the need we have now for music that strikes chord and brings people together. Such as the North East mining songs, full of trouble, strife and heartbreak. There is a comradery in folk music, and a wholesome edge that is inescapable. It’s English summers, rolling hills and blustery mountain tops. It’s reality and being unafraid of it. It’s the soundtrack to what we discover when we experience something that flicks the deep, dark switch. One weekend, after trundling out of our home and switching the telly off, a walk by the ocean, some awful news, a baby’s birth, right then and there we see and feel light and free. We vow to repeat our actions again asap; “we should do that again darling.”, or never take things for granted, because we’ve realised what life is about. They know, The Unthanks. They get it.
One song featured the two girls singing unaccompanied, Rachel giving ‘advice’ to Becky on marriage. “You’d better be a maid all the days of your life, Better me a maid as a poor man’s wife.” They laughed about it, and smiled broadly to each other and then out to the audience. Another track; The Gallowgate Lad, is about a girl crying alone in Newcastle. Someone asks her; ‘What’s wrong?’ A mistake, as it can be. The piano dancing notes, paired with the story telling Becky, alone on stage, is a tremendous mix, full of drama, reviving the angst of past encounters. A number of other songs also featured the use of mighty clog dancing by Becky. Whilst Rachel sat on a chair for a mini rest, Becky tapped and stomped on stage. This was delightful and served to enhance my own desire to own clogs. Excellent skill! They also treated us to a song from the soundtrack of archive footage of Newcastle, they had performed at the Tyneside Cinema recently. They sang of the docks, the ale and the banter in their hauntingly joined voices.
Becky and Rachel put on a superb show, and yet it didn’t even feel like a *SHOW*, it felt as if we were in their living room, by the fire, with knitted cream jumpers and hot toddies, all singing together. It was warming to the heart and soul. Incidentally The Unthanks run weekends of singing in Northumberland, so perhaps check them out if you want some of your own sing song jubilation. For now check out this video. You can buy all their albums now; The Bairns and Here’s The Tender Coming are both out on EMI, and Last, on Rabble Rouser.
They are wearing dresses that look like fresh versions of the past. And their hair is worn long and embracing of its natural waves and kinks. Rachel is pregnant and vibrant. The Unthanks are wholesome and true. True to their families, here friends, dear home and folk music. Their Northern roots infiltrate everything from the lilt of the pronunciation of lyrics; ‘luvley’, to the songs they choose to sing. My image is of them as land girls, wearing cream wooly jumpers, dresses and wellington boots. In the evening they sit around the fire of a single glazed, rambling cottage, singing from right within. Where the truth lies.
And indeed, growing up in their Northumberland home, the Unthank family would partake in group singing. Their father George, is part of a folk group called The Keelers that specialised in sea shanties of the north-east, their mother is a member of local choirs, and they always attended festivals and folk clubs. Rachel, the older of the two sisters, who looks like peace personified said: “This is amazing, a privilege and an honour, to be up here singing like this. Of course. But there something about singing with lots of people, that’s just… good for the soul.”
Rachel’s speaking voice is high, full of character, vibrancy and northern accent. Her eyes close as she sings and sways, stroking her baby bump to the instrumental breaks. She loves music and singing for its remedial, loving, relaxing, spiritual and bringing together prowess. As does Becky, her sister. Recently engaged we are told, she is funny, lower toned in voice and smoother. More of the honey to Rachel’s jam. Homemade and paired with the band (butter and bread… this metaphor accidentally went further than anticipated), they are your next level folk. Playing the piano, violin, fiddle, viola, cello, double bass, drums, guitar and ukulele, they are all stunning, and together make for a polished and encompassing sound. The beauty and love of the music they’re all creating, their sole focus. Not lumberjack shirts and shiny belt buckles.
The girls themselves don’t hold an ounce of arrogance, and are both entirely likeable, modest and genuine in their performance and stage presence. The confidence that’s so rosy, and tangible seems to be from deep within, from a stable and unmoving place.
But they could be all over themselves. With a Mercury Award Nomination in 2008, being named as one of Best Albums of The Decade in Uncut and The Observer for The Bairns (out on EMI), as well as BBC Folk Awards and many others. Why didn’t I know of them before? Or my evening’s accomplice. As the evening went on, I found myself increasingly mesmerised and indadvertedly swaying in a progressive daze.
They sing of drunks, pubs, Newcastle Brown Ale, men, sweat, bosoms, daily life and poverty – STORIES of England of the North, the land, the people, the past. With the strings behind them, they sing everything tenderly, slowly and with an enormous wedge of sadness. But it’s hard to feel sadness with them, it’s more that they disarm you and fill you with beautiful sounds and truths. Things aren’t and never have been idyllic for everyone, forever.
Between tracks they chat leisurely about where they found their songs, and banter with the piano player, and husband of Rachel, Adrian McNally. Rachel talks of the need we have now for music that strikes chord and brings people together. Such as the North East mining songs, full of trouble, strife and heartbreak. There is a comradery in folk music, and a wholesome edge that is inescapable. It’s English summers, rolling hills and blustery mountain tops. It’s reality and being unafraid of it. It’s the soundtrack to what we discover when we experience something that flicks the deep, dark switch. One weekend, after trundling out of our home and switching the telly off, a walk by the ocean, some awful news, a baby’s birth, right then and there we see and feel light and free. We vow to repeat our actions again asap; “we should do that again darling.”, or never take things for granted, because we’ve realised what life is about. They know, The Unthanks. They get it.
One song featured the two girls singing unaccompanied, Rachel giving ‘advice’ to Becky on marriage. “You’d better be a maid all the days of your life, Better me a maid as a poor man’s wife.” They laughed about it, and smiled broadly to each other and then out to the audience. Another track; The Gallowgate Lad, is about a girl crying alone in Newcastle. Someone asks her; ‘What’s wrong?’ A mistake, as it can be. The piano dancing notes, paired with the story telling Becky, alone on stage, is a tremendous mix, full of drama, reviving the angst of past encounters. A number of other songs also featured the use of mighty clog dancing by Becky. Whilst Rachel sat on a chair for a mini rest, Becky tapped and stomped on stage. This was delightful and served to enhance my own desire to own clogs. Excellent skill! They also treated us to a song from the soundtrack of archive footage of Newcastle, they had performed at the Tyneside Cinema recently. They sang of the docks, the ale and the banter in their hauntingly joined voices.
Becky and Rachel put on a superb show, and yet it didn’t even feel like a *SHOW*, it felt as if we were in their living room, by the fire, with knitted cream jumpers and hot toddies, all singing together. It was warming to the heart and soul. Incidentally The Unthanks run weekends of singing in Northumberland, so perhaps check them out if you want some of your own sing song jubilation. For now check out this video. You can buy all their albums now; The Bairns and Here’s The Tender Coming are both out on EMI, and Last, on Rabble Rouser.
I love Jesca Hoop‘s new song City Bird and the accompanying video so much so that I decided to get in touch with both Jesca and Elia Petridis, viagra 60mg the director of her recent videos, mind to find out what makes them tick. Elia Petridis runs boutique production company Filmatics in Los Angeles, California. After making several award winning shorts and music videos he is about to start shooting his first full length feature The Man Who Shook The Hand Of Vicente Fernandez. I think his incredibly detailed answers throw an intriguing light on what goes into the creation of a very considered and beautiful music video.
When did you start working with director Elia Petridis?
Jesca: Elia is an old friend. We met in Los Angeles at one of my shows. He would say that he forced me to be his friend, which is kind of true though I would say that he used his clever imagination to lure me in. I’m glad that he did. The Kingdom was our first video adventure together.
Elia: A producer I’m working closely with these days said to me recently that humans are “meaning making machines” (a soundbite from some career seminar) but that phrase really resonated with me. I’m infatuated with screenwriting and personal mythologies, sometimes to the detriment of my own mental health. I grew up in Dubai for 18 years before moving to LA for film school – although Dubai had a lot of its own magic it didn’t have a music scene to speak of so I’m always a little astonished by the talent I find in LA. When I saw Jesca perform live I really felt her music was very special and otherworldly, and tried to do my best to see if, as human planets, we could potentially orbit each other and become friends.
I would venture to say that the first time I saw Jesca Hoop live was one of the most astonishing musical moments I have ever witnessed. It was the night before Halloween and she came out in a marionette outfit, complete with rosy cheeks, and stood motionless while her back up players wound her up to life. For a visualist like me, a storyteller, it really had an impact. The whole endeavour of courting a friendship with her was kind of a lark for me because I honestly thought she had better things to do. It was just a matter of pushing the boundary between fan and friend and seeing how much I could get away with. Suddenly, unexpectedly, as with most of life’s wonder, we had some mileage behind us and had transformed into friends. I will tell you that the first *official* conversation, the ice breaker, was when she was writing Tulip – from the Hunting my Dress album – and I was writing a screenplay dealing with Tulip Fever in Holland so I leant her my reference material. I knew I had two opportunities to wiggle my way in there – one to give her the book, and one to get it back!
The Hunting My Dress album cover.
Where was City Bird shot and where did the inspiration come from?
Jesca: It was shot in a miniature haunted house in downtown LA. We both wanted it to be a ghost story and Elia was the one to bring the children’s narrative into it.
Elia: FALSE! The video was shot in a garage in Riverside, Ca. The whole thing was fractal – an infinite amount of information in a finite space, as the garage is attached to an 18th century ‘Painted Lady’ Victorian house owned by my fiance. So in essence, it was shot in a miniature dollhouse inside a bigger dollhouse which made the shoot utterly magic. I think what Jesca is communicating is that the story takes place in a miniature dollhouse in downtown LA. The whole thing was lit using candles and christmas lights.
Where did the idea for an animated video come from?
Jesca: It came out of limitation really. We had very very little money for this video so we just mused about what we could do with what time and money we did have. I set a pretty hard task considering the resources available and I am delighted with what Elia and his team came through with.
Elia: To me, the track is seance folk. That’s the sonic iconography that City Bird evokes – a ghostly seance. When it comes to music and music videos I am not a literal thinker so although my mind knows the song is about the fright and sadness associated with homelessness that’s not what my heart feels when I hear the song, and it’s not what the dream theatre in my mind projects over it either. But here Jesca’s mastery shines through, because the sonic landscape, right down to the very physical shape her mouth is making around the lyric is just as important as what she’s trying to say; the two are organically woven together. The magic of Jesca’s music lies in the alchemy that exists between form and content. All my artistic heroes do this, from Chabon, to Spielberg; they use genre to sugar coat the pill. So here she uses the disguise of seance music to coat the literal message of homelessness she’s trying to communicate.
Now, narrative is something I am always running away from when directing a music video. Whenever I read a music video treatment from some kid that went to film school it makes me cringe and I think the best music videos come from documentary filmmakers who get a chance to put forward a psychology of form rather than one of narrative. But, having said that, my instincts on City Bird were narrative, perhaps because it’s a kind of lilting waltz so it felt right to have a narrative to pull you through it. So, for the treatment, I sat down and wrote an entire ghost story from scratch, in the style of Poe or Hawthorne. I even wrote nursery rhymes about the ghost, because ghost stories are mostly aural traditions.
On The Kingdom video Jesca had a ton of input because I quickly realised that it would only reach its full potential if I pretended to be a paint brush and let her grab hold of the crew through me and paint. Once I took my ego out of the equation I realised there was something special there I was meant to service, and honestly, that’s the best method of working with an artist on a music video, that’s what you really cross your fingers for, isn’t it? You can see a little more of that process on the behind-the-scenes doc of the kingdom here:
But for City Bird Jesca was in Manchester and we were in LA shooting. Her schedule was tight, and I was really flattered that she had enough faith in me to let me just go and shoot because I know how much she loves her songs and how much faith it took for her to let go a little. I had originally submitted an entirely different treatment to her and had kind of resigned myself to the fact I wasn’t going to do it, which was cool enough for me because god only knows how many talented people Jesca comes across in her travels. Surely, I thought, she can find people in the UK to make amazing videos, and surely, as an artist, she wants to go and do cool stuff with other cool people. So I thought I would just give it a shot. I submitted this treatment about metaphorical ghosts, which dealt with mis-en-scene of places that had just been left and abandoned – an unmade bed, plates on a table after dinner, a toilet still running, stuff like that, where humans had vacated the frame only seconds ago and you’d just missed them – kind of pretentious honestly. Then I came across my fiancée’s childhood dollhouse and started taking video and snapping pictures and all of a sudden this whole new idea came to mind of the dollhouse and miniatures and stop motion and ghosts. I sent the examples to Jesca and she totally fell for it!
The City Bird dollhouse.
Ghost stories are tricky because they are incredibly emotional stories surrounded in gothic imagery. Ghost stories like The Others, The Orphanage, The Sixth Sense, are rite of passage stories – they’re about letting go. About the dead letting go of the living and the living letting go of the dead. They’re NOT about the living being punished for a sin like horror movies, but about forgiveness of that sin from all parties, the relinquishing of unfinished business. And I wanted to nail that, I really did. In City Bird it is the boy who is at the centre of the story and has the rite of passage: the ghost is a sort of Frankenstein or Edward Scissorhands character.
The boy has nightmares and makes up ghastly stories that paint the ghost as a demon, then something happens to the boy on his bike and he dies. We get those silent movie inter-titles: his tower (the city) is turned to a tomb. Shadows loom over his white coffin and he becomes a ghost, set into the underworld where he is refused and becomes a refugee with nowhere to go. It’s scary out there for a little boy so he returns to the ghost’s house and we realise that’s her purpose – she is a host for waywardly spirits like the dead boy. But he has been so scared of her, will he change? Can he let go of his fear of her? Can he muster up the courage to enter as she beckons him in? The song ends unresolved sonically so I wanted to leave the audience there just as the music does. The theme is that of judging a book by its cover and misunderstanding something: just as we pass the homeless on the street and pretend they are invisible like ghosts when they all have a real inner life. Can we let go of our prejudices and see beyond the stereotypes to see that the issues that made them homeless are ones that could very well come to prey on and haunt us at any time? That’s kind of the metaphor I was trying to get at.
The City Bird ghost.
Who made the puppets and how long did the video take to make?
Jesca: I’m not quite sure actually… I should ask.
Elia: Everyone who was involved in making the City Bird video knew there was a finite time of ten days in which to create this beautiful, creative thing so necessity was to be the mother of invention due to the time constraints, and everyone really fed on that and brought their best to the project. My fiancee, Maranatha Hay, is an Emmy award winning documentary filmmaker who is piped into the most creative, kind, and daring community of filmmakers and her best friend Natalie Apodaca is an artist with experience in installations. I showed her Metropolis and told her we were going to build a monotone city from cardboard and she just went for it. Cosmin Cosma was my left hand man who insisted we use the Dragon Stop Motion software, which honestly was the main reason we were able to get the shots we needed in the time we had.
The crew never lost faith in my direction, even when I had no idea how we would do it just ten minutes before the shoot. In the opening shot of the video there is a city cardboard diorama, the dollhouse, the puppet of the ghost AND the moon projected over the city! All those elements came into play because we just broke down the shot we had in mind element by element: that’s real filmmaking in a pure form. 99% of this video was done IN-CAMERA, like The Lumière Brothers! Then it was given that incredible aged look by Dan Geis, our after effects genius.
I can tell you how the puppets were made, but I urge you to remember that cinema is like a magic trick. The home made feel is part of the fun of the viewing experience, especially the joy in realising that things like hair are actually twine. The doll’s arms are made of tiny painted tree branches, her spine is metal wire and her dress is made of muslin. Her face is tracing paper and is removable so that we could change her expressions from shot to shot. The part where the fork floats across the table had to be done with tweezers! (nudged lovingly one frame at a time by Maranatha)
The house was a nightmare. It is three feet tall and it took us 3 days to put it together from a flat box. We painted every part, so we had to know what the end product would look like before we even started. Luckily an architect friend, Dannon Rampton, showed up just to check out what was going on and got so enamoured with the dolls house that he ended up putting it together which is just as well since Natalie and I were clueless as to how we were going to do it. We painted it and then we had to DILAPIDATE IT so it looked old and haunted! We scrubbed it with metal brush, we broke its steeple and we stuffed miniature moss in all its crevices so that the ghost story would feel real and lived in.
My motto is: make movies that can only be movies! Make movies that need that final step of the medium to fully realise the vision, because it’s such an expensive, time consuming endeavour that the content had better deserve and earn the medium. If it can be a song, a book, a play, let it be that. But film, film is reserved for the special stories that need the seven arts to make them whole. SO don’t give away our secrets if you don’t have to.
Written by Amelia Gregory on Tuesday March 22nd, 2011 9:23 pm
A Saturday night in downtown Kilburn saw the long awaited (and, casedecease considering it was recorded about 18 months ago, treat long overdue) launch of Horses for Courses, more about the debut album from Teesside trio Das Wanderlust. Taking the stage after sterling support from the ever wonderful Bobby McGees, the place of lead singer and keyboard player Laura Simmons was taken by the mysterious “Rock Wizard”, decked out like some prog-tastic spawn of the mid-70′s Rick Wakeman. But – lo and behold! – ‘twas indeed that cheeky scamp Laura underneath (the cape and false beard were in fact discarded because it was bloomin’ hot)!
Das Wanderlust are one of those bands that can be guaranteed to divide opinion. So much so that, confusingly, the NME decided to produce a schizophrenic review which on the one hand raves about the album, whilst on the other describes one track (Sea Shanty) as “literally the worst song we’ve ever heard and annoying on an almost nuclear level” (guitarist Andy Elliott ruefully reminded the audience of this). Personally, I think they’re great.
Musically, they are very reminiscent of X-Ray Spex, particularly Simmons’distinct vocal delivery, and late-70′s Fall. Crunchy guitars, buzzy 20p second hand Casio-style keyboards and melodies that don’t go quite where you expect, it’s a style that Das Wanderlust describe as “wrong pop”. The single Puzzle is what Elastica might have sounded like if they hadn’t spent all their time transcribing Wire and Stranglers albums whilst, conversely, the piano-based Turn to Grey has a very nursery-esque quality.
One thing to say about Das Wanderlust is that in no way do they take themselves seriously on stage. After a little dig at the archetypal Shoreditch gig crowd, there is much onstage banter (which apparently led to a bit of a rebuke from a rather sniffy reviewer in Cardiff recently) and they appeared to be having so much fun that they didn’t realise they’d reached the end of their set.
Heading back to the distant north, I’m sure their hearts were gladdened by the response to their set and the generally positive reviews to Horses for Courses suggest that hopefully we shall be seeing much more of Das Wanderlust soon.
Live photos appear courtesy of Richard Pearmain
For the next few weeks, purchase London will be transformed under an umbrella of environmentalism and sustainability. Which ever corner of London is your turf, treatment you will find something to watch, shop learn, listen to or take part in. Love London: The Green Festival is the biggest green festival in Europe, and will be running from June 4th – June 28th. It will encompass hundreds of cheap and free events in and around the capital that will be categorised under three themes: Green Places, Green Living and Green Innovations. There will also be an onus on Eco – Thrift, a topical theme given the current climate that we are all facing. From a Love London Recycled Sculpture Show at the Wetland Centre in Barnes, Community Garden Open Days, London Farmers Markets Picnic on The Green, Eco-Cultural Festival…. the list seems almost infinite. That is before we include the talks aimed on sharing tips and ideas on how to live a more sustainable and green lifestyle.
I spoke with the people behind Love London and asked a little bit more about what we can expect in the next few weeks.
What is the purpose of the Love London festival?
The purpose of the festival is to empower Londoners to build a more sustainable future for the Capital. The festival achieves this by bringing communities together to share ideas and celebrate innovations. It supports and promotes grass roots action.
Sister themes + sample events include Green Living Green Innovations, The Art of Green Cleaning Eco-Vehicle Rally (Brighton– London), Energy Doctor Surgeries Insider London – Eco Tours, There is also a cross-theme focus on Eco-Thrift this year – many events will teach Londoners how they can save money and save the environment eg Swap Shops and Energy Use surgeries.
Sustainability is a very topical subject matter isn’t it?
Very much so, obviously sustainability is always on the agenda, and this year we have a large aspect around eco-thrift. People think that sustainability will cost them more more but it will actually save them money.
How long has Love London been running?
The festival is now in its seventh year. Over the years it has grown from a weekend event to one week, then two and is now three weeks long. It has evolved from London Sustainability Weeks to Love London Green Festival. Starting with less than ten events it now offers hundreds.
Events from previous Love London Green Festivals. Note the Naked Bike Ride of 2006!
How can Love London benefit the city and the lives of Londoners?
Love London events give Londoners the knowledge and inspiration to do their bit to make the Capital cleaner and greener. As the festival spreads the word and people take action the city will become a more pleasant place for all.
The main theme for 2009 encourages Londoners to celebrate and protect the city’s vital Green Places. Londoners will get out cleaning up rivers and carrying out conservation work as well as enjoying the space with picnics in the park and nature craft workshops. The Love London Recycled Sculpture Show is a highlight event.
The Heron is the focal piece in the Recycled
Sculpture Show. It is by the artist Ptolemy Elrington and has been
made from old shopping trolleys dragged out of a canal.
Click here to find out more about Love London Green Festival. Henry Hudson is a strange chap. I’m absolutely sure of this, ambulance though the only evidence I have is his art. I’ve seen plenty of wacky art made by otherwise normal people. You can usually tell. But this is the real deal. Luscious gilt picture frames house these extraordinary works which don’t so much update Hogarth as render a more visceral, visit web decaying Hogarth. The works currently on show at the Trolley Gallery on Redchurch Street in Shoreditch are drawn from the Rake’s Progress and Harlot’s Progress series. They are details and deteriorations. And they are paintings made of plasticine, stained with tea.
Hudson’s selection of the imagery brings us the moment when squalour invades the Eighteenth Century gentleman’s oasis of luxury. Everything is opulence bought with bad debts that are just turning nasty. A beautiful wall mounting for a candle tries to maintain its dignity beneath menacing cracks in the cieling. It feels like a very contemporary concern, refracted through a prism of history which we are doomed to repeat.
Fundamentally, these are works which straddle being good fun art, and being a veiled threat. It’s original, and supremely confident work, and leaves me in no doubt about one thing: Henry Hudson is a strange chap.
On the other side of Shoreditch, Roman Klonek is exhibiting his stunningly vibrant woodcuts. 20th Century Russian Propaganda jostles with the lowbrow feel of Fantagraphics comix or some of Spumco‘s more knowing animation.
Some of this is really stark and simple. A hairy-faced man does some ironing, but somehow it turns into an existential moment for him, but then, wait; that is filtered somehow through the bold and bright cuteness of it all. It’s as if Camus were a gonk. Other scenes are more complex, with a few figures going about their business, totally isolated from one another. I was reminded of some of Balthus’s better works, but with colour sense that comes purely from early comics.
Some of the most striking works are laid out as comic book front covers, in fact, with text in Polish, Russian, and Japanese. Klonek’s work is seriously slick, and his background in graphics show’s through. Almost all of these prints made me wish there wre an animated TV show which made almost no sense and looked just like a Klonek. There’s just something about his associations betwen the cartoon world and the exotic characters of foriegn alphabets and spellings that draws you in and thrills. Judging by the little red dots appearing by the works, I’m not the only one who felt the need for a some Klonek in my life.
Henry Hudson is at the Trolley Gallery until July 25, while Roman Klonek closes at Kemistry Gallery on May 30.
Last night Amelia’s Magazine had an office trip to the Proud Galleries in Camden, viagra order to visit the House of Diehl’s Style Wars, clinic a concept first brought to Brick Lane in 2002 promoting the art of ‘instant couture’. Since then it has evolved into a competition on an international level, approved holding heats in New York, Buenos Aires, Hong Kong and Johannesburg, and last night was the only European stopover.
The New York Times described it as like “an old-school MC Battle, with one crucial difference: they spit out rhymes where these guys spit out style”. My goodness! Almost too edgy to take.
The night involved two teams squaring up against one another through several rounds, creating an outfit in a five minute slot before sending it down the catwalk to be goggled at by the crowd, and then dissected by a celebrity panel including VV Brown, Jodie Harsh, photographer Perou and Joe Corre.
Citing as inspiration the transformative capacities of clothes through recycling them, as seen with Margiela and Viktor & Rolf, the designers used everything from the clothes on their own backs, to raw materials like clingfilm, duct tape and paper, cricket shin pads, badminton rackets and even beer coasters to a variety of themes.
It’s a very public creation of art (somehow we can’t imagine Margiela himself taking part) that relies on our ability to conceive fashion as ephemeral, so essentially polarising itself to the credit crunch inclination towards investment purchases – instead suggesting there’s a more creative (and indeed, environmentally friendly) way of making a garment last longer.
In a way I like this idea of ‘momentary’ fashion especially when trends are practically over before you’ve even put your socks on first thing in the morning, and Style Wars came from the idea that if you enjoy going out, your clothes aren’t going to last. So if you only need an outfit to last for a night, maybe five minutes is all you need to put it together.
It’s a fashion blitzkrieg that with a timeframe that might pose a variety of questions. ‘Style’ is a self-contained label that pretty much covers what went down here: it’s style over substance, but how can you create anything else in five minutes? Is it this just for an evening or is it really possible to be conceptual and interesting in five minutes? It is just art if it barely toes the line of the functional aspect that supposedly distinguishes fashion from art?
There were definitely some neat ideas even if the looks were sometimes holistically unsatisfactory: I particularly liked the inflatable aeroplane cushion used as an Elizabethan ruff, some puff sleeves courtesy of a pair of lampshades, and eventual winner David’s creation of a jumpsuit out of a boring old suitbag – I thought it properly captured the spirit of the evening and was humorously self-referential.
Style Wars seemed like a purely creative exercise extraneous to the business side of fashion where conceptual design was really rewarded, which is a really liberating idea, but I felt the reference to Margiela was an unnecessarily highbrow one. This is after all ‘instant couture’ and most of the outfits were barely functional, even sometimes falling apart. But this isn’t really the point. Being part of a baying crowd was something you wouldn’t get to do at a real fashion show, so Style Wars is definitely an opportunity to let loose your inner hooligan and just have a drink and a jolly old time. That’s certainly worth five minutes of your time.
Photos: Courtesy of Errol Sabodosh
If you were under the impression that during these times of economical downturn the arts for most people, troche local councils and national governments took a back burner, price you would be very much mistaken. All that is required, for sale the School Creative Centre would argue, is a refocus of relevance, access and opportunity.
By using a decommissioned school building to bring together professional artists of all persuasions, some of whom take up residency and produce work on a rotational basis, The School Creative Centre has it’s sights set high for new community engagement in the arts. The first year over with and the Centre has already established itself as a thriving visionary initiative attracting talent such as painter Nicholas Archer. Speaking about the benefits of sharing creativity in a communal environment he says “I have been working as a professional artist for ten years, often quite a solitary experience and The School Creative Centre provides a fantastic opportunity to work in a stimulating environment with other creative professionals”.
Nicholas Archer, Resident Artist
Professor Val Williams is another member of the School Creative Centre family. During her career as a photographer and author she has amassed around 40 years of archived records which have come out of storage and are now happily housed at The School for researchers to access. The school provides a welcome antidote to the cut-throat money-spinning art world we may be used to in the capital and signaling a return to a more altruistic communal way of producing and sharing creativity in an environment that prides its self on striving for excellence as well as supporting the local community.
At the heart of the School are Ian Ross, Christine Harmar-Brown and Nikki Tompsett who all arrived from notable artistic backgrounds in theatre, fine arts and educational project management. Taking over the building in 2008 and transforming it from Freda Gardham School into the creative centre it is today was no easy task. Situated in Rye, East Sussex, it is a world away from the hectic art scenes of London or nearby Brighton, but is able to offer it’s locals top of the range facilities and a programme of classes, talks, workshops and demonstrations. They receive their funding from the Arts Council, , East Sussex County Council and Rother District Council, as well as from hiring the space out for corporate events and the tickets they sell to performances such as the upcoming ‘Class and Corruption’ in June, based on Brecht’s Threepenny Opera.
The sheer range of space and opportunity is startling. A theatre with 150 seating capacity; a rehearsal space ideal for dance or yoga; experimental spaces, studio spaces of varying size and privacy, a café and a well stocked library to name a few. In terms of activities you can take part in anything from life drawing to bookbinding, jazz dance to turntablism, run by experts in their fields and aimed at promoting inclusion and engagement particularly for the younger generations in society.
Local MP in the area, Michael Foster, wants to encourage this reclaiming of buildings for good causes instead of leaving shops and public spaces emptied during the recession to remain unused and become derelict. “That might mean new community uses, new spaces for arts and crafts, new premises for small start-up businesses, community cafes, and spaces for social enterprises and the voluntary sector.” It has also been announced that consider sums of money, we’re talking six figures here, have been designated by central Government to help communities across the country find creative ways to fill empty spaces and remove the negative impact that unused buildings have on society as a whole. It seems we can all look to The School Creative Centre in Rye for inspiration and encouragement that it can, and will, be done.
Minnie Weisz’s studio, online a one-storey alcove of delightfully quirky art concealed underneath Kings Cross’s railway arches, is currently harboring the perfect antidote to the last-minute Christmas shopping overdose. Artist, designer, engineer and inventor Tom Foulsham currently exhibits a series of machines that defy easy categorization since his work is a fine blend of sculpture, architecture and installation art. The perfect interaction between all the different parts constitutes the core of elaborate systems that dazzle by their sheer ingenious flair and complexity.
Ron Arad says of him: “ …Tom can actually solve most mechanical problems and realise them against all odds…all sorts of contraptions like a book page-turning device that is activated by the wasting burning candle, and lots of old leather suitcases stuffed with intricate devices that would make Heath Robinson proud.” The Armchair Balance illustrates this best. Especially commissioned for Minnie Weisz’s space, the seamlessly gravity-defying apparatus at times appears to swivel out of control yet remains astonishingly together. I am told it offered entertaining obstacles for visitors at the show’s opening who were forced to approach the laser lights-like tentacles without touching for fear of total structure collapse! The artist used Minnie Weisz’s books to balance his second-hand chair and the final result beggars belief.
Foulsham could be the poster boy for that old cliché of the visionary eccentric scientist left to his own device in an antiquated shop full of strange and exciting mechanisms and other contraptions. Born in 1981, Tom Foulsham studied Architecture at the Bartlett and was an architectural assistant at Arad Associates. He went on to study Design Products MA at the Royal College of Art, graduating this summer 2009, under the tutorledge of Ron Arad. He exhibited his ‘ Balancing Shelves’ at Pecha Kucha ICA in 2007. He showed his ‘Candle Balance’ as part of the V&A group exhibition ‘In Praise of Shadows’ in September 2009.
Tom Foulsham’s work is completely capturing the zeitgeist; the art world, like society, is beginning to go full-circle with technology. “ We’re going back to craft,” Minnie Weisz says. “It’s been the digital age where we press a button and we don’t really know how that happens. We’re going back to skill.” Foulsham masterfully manipulates raw, organic and fine materials in a quick and dynamic manner that arch back to older days; built in two weeks for this exhibition, the Man Making machine is reminiscent of the industrial revolution era in its use of soft and fragrant paraffin. The artist enjoys devising spidery contraptions with simple technologies where nothing is hidden. “It’s a fine balancing act,” I am told. “The sculptures are fragile and delicate yet still strong enough for the public to interact with.”
“I was always taking things apart and then putting them back together again, making things”, Tom tells me about his boyhood. It all sounds so much better than today’s chair bound assisted computer fun. He must have had a wonderful childhood. Tom agrees, “I was making my own toys, playing around with cardboard boxes and toying with little models and knots and bolts. Once I had worked out how something worked, I knew I could make it 20 times bigger”.
Foulsham is a man with great ambitions. The machines/sculptures are also conceived as small-scaled versions of what is to later become life-size or even more colossal. Some of it would work well in front of an industrial museum like the Pompidou centre, I tell him like the Breathing House that is not meant to remain miniature for long. Surprisingly, Foulsham claims Quentin Blake and his “scrappy” style as an influence as well as other balancing sculptures. “My references come from all over the place.” What’s more striking is the sense of play in it all; sculpture as toy from the burnt ephemera of the Man Making Machine to the Wiggle Table. “Tom has quite surreal ideas but packages them to create something that is tangible and that people can have different experiences of. It does not dictate one view of looking and understanding. Yes, it’s scientific. We’ve had many children here who think it’s magic!”
The Wiggle Machine is a crowd pleaser and the blockbuster of this exhibition. “Like the Frankenstein of itself”, Foulsham says. He created a new typeface and a new take on the classic machine blue for this multifaceted jiggling box that grabs the current news and blurts out very serious content in a twist. “The Prime Minister says the …” and the vibrations don’t make me take the news seriously at all…The enigma machine, Second World War cockpits and 1960’s computers all spring into mind. “We’ve had séances here” Minnie Weisz says.
This exhibition is worth the visit and it’s not everywhere that the artist himself introduces you to his artwork. That is why it’s by appointment only throughout 2010. It is best to call in advance for January, I am told. The gallery is currently in festive mode and has asked the surface designer Pippa Johnson to wrap the gallery arch with a specially commissioned illustration over the windows throughout the holiday period.
Minnie Weisz Studio, Under the Arches, 123 Pancras Road, London NW1 1UN. Tube: King’s Cross.
Written by Valerie Pezeron on Monday December 21st, 2009 8:06 pm
Uniqlo UT today launch a new range of UT T-shirts bearing the iconic imagery of New York artists Keith Haring and Jean-Michel Basquiat. Keith Haring was one of the greatest pop artists of the 1980s, well known for his joyful graphic artworks featuring instantly recognisable symbols such as the Radiant Baby. His dancing figures surrounded with bursts of movement were a reflection of the energetic underground scene, and the socio-political subtext that bubbles beneath his deceptively bright images fits well with the current climate. Jean-Michel Basquiat took a far more chaotic approach to image creation, combining figurative painting, abstract brushstrokes, words and pictograms to describe his view of society. His spontaneous impressionist style combined with primitivist elements continues to be a big influence on creatives today.
UT T-shirts by Keith Haring.
UT T-shirts by Jean-Michel Basquiat.
And now for the exciting part: we would like you to style your choice of T-shirt on a man in a bespoke fashion illustration for us. All submissions will be showcased on my website once a winner has been chosen by myself and Uniqlo and announced on the 6th May. Selected submissions will also be showcased and credited across Uniqlo’s social channels in May and one artist picked by Uniqlo and Amelia’s Magazine will win 2 x return tickets from London to Paris on the Eurostar (up to the value of £200 and to be booked by the end of June) and 2 x tickets to the Keith Haring exhibition at the Musee D’Art Moderne. Above and below are some of my favourite T-shirt designs but you can find the whole range of Keith Haring and Jean-Michel Basquiat T-shirts on the Uniqlo website, so please work with whichever style tickles your fancy.
UT T-shirts by Keith Haring.
To celebrate the launch of this latest range of Uniqlo UT T-shirts there will be a unique UT POP-UP! LON event open from Friday 19th April until Saturday 27th April at The Hoxton Gallery. Expect art installations from artists Damian Weighill and Dan Freeman, as well as a pop up store selling limited edition UT collection and related events. Together with Vice Magazine, Uniqlo UT presents two weekends dedicated to ART and MUSIC. I particularly like the sound of the Secret UT Cinema on Friday 19th April, where visitors will be able to see a private screening of a documentary on the life of Keith Haring. On Saturday 20th April influential artists will lead an ARTSHOP creative session. Visitors to UT POP-UP! LON will be invited to step into the UT CAMERA Photo Booth and shoot a looping video portrait on Uniqlo‘s new UT CAMERA smartphone app: the best will be projected onto the walls of the venue and there will be prizes galore for the best themed videos. Customers and fans can apply for exclusive limited passes to the private events taking place in the UT POP-UP! LON via Uniqlo.com/uk/ut.
UT T-shirts by Jean-Michel Basquiat.
DESIGN BRIEF:
TECHNICAL DETAILS: Submissions must include a visual reference to at least one of the Keith Haring or Jean-Michel Basquiat Uniqlo T-shirts (above). Artists can incorporate images of the actual T-shirts in their artworks or create illustrated interpretations of these.
SIZE & LABELLING: Your design should be submitted in a jpg format ofA4 size, 297 x 210 mm. Please make sure you include UNIQLO and your name in the label.
RESOLUTION: Please create your artwork at a resolution of 300 dpi, but please only send me a 72 dpi version to avoid huge emails. If a larger resolution is needed we will let you know at a later date so keep your original safe!
![190809_theunthanks[1]](http://www.ameliasmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/190809_theunthanks1.jpg "190809_theunthanks[1]")
