My new website will feature some brilliant baby wear designers, including the fabulous Slugs and Snails range of tights for boys (and girls). I make no secret of my great love for this brand – which we could not live without on cold winter days – so I am absolutely delighted to be partnering with Slugs and Snails. Here’s my recent interview with the amazing lady behind it all, Kathleen Redmond. She kindly answered these questions shortly after her second boy was born, but I’ve waited awhile to post the interview so that I can share with you some photos of Snarfle modelling his latest selection of Slugs and Snails tights.
What prompted the creation of your range of patterned tights for boys?
It was our first born Noah and the total lack of anything comfy and funky for him to wear. I have a real issue with boys being forced into jeans whilst wearing nappies; it just seems so uncomfortable and cold!
Have you ever had any strange or bemused reactions when you tell people what you make, and if so can you share them?
Yes, in fact I had been developing the company for almost three years before I told anyone what I do, I still don’t tell people what I do for a living. Being based in rural Ireland it is hard to explain ‘boys tights‘ so I just don’t bother. When we first launched the national radio got wind and although we had more positive comments than negative the DJ took a call from a woman who claimed ‘Ireland wasn’t ready for that sort of thing!‘ I sometimes get tweets telling me boys tights are wrong but worded in a slightly more insulting fashion!
Where do you find inspiration for the patterns on your tights and what is the process of putting them into production in knit?
Again Noah is always our chief designer, although his daddy is the man who does the real designing. We sit down as a family and design our collection and draw inspiration from Noah‘s latest fads or favourite things, in fact this season he asked for the ‘rubbish trucks and dumpers‘ on the Loader design. It’s a long process though, from inception to creation takes about 9 months, and this season it took 11 months from start to finish!
Why is it important to you to use organic cottons in all your designs?
We currently have six organic designs and all of our designs are Oeko Tex 100 certified. We have a product that sits on the skin and we need it safe for new born babies and even premature babies. Organic cotton not only means there are no harmful chemicals in the tights it also means that the factory is GOTS certified and their dyes and processes are strictly monitored and therefore not being dumped into the water table.
What is your personal favourite design and why?
I love Hampton (featuring sailboats on a blue background). It’s got that vintage look which I love and looks great worn with little blue shorts or a red dress. You can’t beat a classic image for little kids and it is pretty gender neutral.
I love the new lifestyle shoot – where did you do it and what was the brief for the babies and children taking part?
We have a wonderful photographer based in Texas called Ashley Jinks Larson who is a mummy herself and we simply left it with her to decide. It’s helpful sometimes to let someone else interpret their ideas about Slugs and Snails, and she came up with some really beautiful images. In fact she’s in charge of our lifestyle shoot for this season too we can’t wait to see what she comes up with this year!
I was lucky to discover you when I had my baby last year: how are people discovering you now, I hear you’ve had some great (and well deserved) press?
I think there are so many tights out there now that Slugs and Snails are selling themselves. We can’t afford the high prices of PR companies and national advertising so we are lucky that our product is high quality and unique because nothing sells better than a genuine recommendation. In fact because we have become so accustomed to recommendation press we have become a bit lax on promoting ourselves, via Twitter etc.
Last winter Snarfle was crawling and he lived in Slugs and Snails tights. This year he’s walking – how do you suggest the slightly older child styles his tights?
Personally I think Slugs and Snails are awesome if the little person is still in a nappy: worn on their own, they accentuate all the yummy chubbiness that babies and toddlers have. Once they get longer and skinnier Slugs and Snails looks so lovely with little shorts or rolled up trousers.
You have (literally) just given birth again, how easy is it to run your business whilst being a mother and how do you juggle the two?
Ha-ha, well it’s not easy at all. Rohan was born on 1st November I was back in the office on the 4th with two kids in tow. It’s hard work and as I am breast feeding I have to bring Rohan with me to the office which can be difficult, it would be great to have a set of arms to hold him and a set to pack orders! I love being my own boss though and I do this for my boys – Noah loves seeing all his friends at Kindergarten in Slugs and Snails. I remember once someone said to me that when Noah grows up he will be bullied by his friends because he wears tights and his mummy and daddy make boys’ tights but what that person didn’t know was that all of Noah‘s friends both male and female wear our tights. To them it’s normal and it’s already part of their childhood, so hopefully they will then grow up and make it part of their own children’s wardrobe.
Written by Amelia Gregory on Friday December 13th, 2013 9:45 am
Ireland’s Orla Kiely has firmly established her eponymous London label over the seasons with 1960s silhouettes, playful prints and rich fabrics. While the look book each season is never going to shock or win any awards for pushing the boundaries of fashion, style fans head to Orla for staple vintage pieces that are playful and pretty. But to judge Orla against the likes of Azzedine Alaïa or Hussein Chalayan would be missing the point. Always a nod to decades past, previous presentations have included film screenings directed by Gia Coppola and Mercedes Helnwein.
This season’s presentation took place in the intriguing Elms Lesters Painting Rooms, a gallery off Denmark Street that often hosts fashion press days; its labyrinth of rooms lend themselves well to presentations of this nature. A long arm of the upper floor had been transformed into a retro working-girl’s space that could have been lifted straight from a scene from Mad Men or working-class hero flick Made in Dagenham.
Numerous models appeared at the entrance to the elongated space wearing this season’s take on Orla’s signature looks, as an unobtrusive soundtrack made up mostly of the clatter of a typewriter played. Beehive barnets piled high atop models’ heads. Orla’s girls were superbly cast, more as actresses than runway models: loading typewriters, filing paperwork, nattering quietly and changing ‘shifts’ regularly to allow other models to enter the showcase.
Attention to detail was key, with design perverts like me eyeing up mid-century Scandinavian furniture, Smiths‘ clocks and old graphic signage as much as the outfits themselves.
Statement features this season include high-waisted dresses with girly a-line hems, flocked coats with swirling patterns, pleated and pointed collars, embroidered squirrels and a-line overcoats using Orla Kiely‘s signature shape.
This kind of thoughtful, preciously executed presentation is the way forward. With never-ending developments in technology and record numbers at catwalk shows, presentations allow you to fully gage the nuances of collections and document them effectively, rather than the scramble to photograph, tweet, Facebook, Vine, MySpace, tumblr, Foursquare and Grindr your way through a catwalk show.
Bollywood dancing from Honey’s Dance Academy by Jane Young.
We were treated to some very energetic Bollywood dancing thanks to Honey’s Dance Academy, followed by two short catwalk shows which took place on walkways surrounding the sunken restaurant. Models included youngsters and a couple of more mature women from Close Models, which provided a really uplifting touch.
Junky Styling. All photography by Amelia Gregory.
People Tree.
Bhavna.
During the first show we saw a fabulous multi layered pink maxi dress from ACOFI featured designer Junky Styling, cute dresses from People Tree, embellished bamboo dresses from Bhavna, and gorgeous silk classics from Outsider, who I discovered at Ecoluxe this season.
Amisha, Zoe, Orsola and the kids.
As I had a bar ticket I was able to roam around, and between shows sat with Zoe, Amisha Ghadalli, Maria Papadimitriou of Slowly the Eggs/Plastic Seconds and Orsola de Castro of From Somewhere, who was entertaining her young daughter and her friend. We ate some yummy canapes and watched a magician bend forks, then a Find Your Feet ambassador described the work done by this charity, which includes helping to fund sustainable farming practices. Fittingly, she described how a group of women in rural India bandied together to make the most of the mint growing on local farms – they now have a successful essential oil business.
The magician entertains the kids.
Charley Speed and bottle top bag.
Then it was on to the auction, where any mention of my book was usurped by the lure of a People Tree dress, as worn by a celebrity (Livia Firth) – the heavily make-up caked presenter Charley Speed dashing maniacally around the room to squeeze as much money as possible out of the generous crowd. The whole lot (including a bottle top bag) went for £300, and I can only hope that the recipient appreciated my donation because he probably had no clue what it was.
Round two featured three Amelia’s Magazine favourites from ACOFI: off-cut drama courtesy of From Somewhere, amazing sculptural pieces from Ada Zanditon and colourful dresses with sunflower decorations from By Stamo. There was also some playful printed dresses from Love Phool.
From Somewhere.
A range of ethical accessories were used to style the show, amongst them some old favourites: LeJu, Nina Dolcetti and Joanna Cave… and some new discoveries: Meher Kakalia, who adapts ancient shoemaking techniques from her home town of Karachi to create modern footwear in Brixton, and Kumvana Gomani, who creates delicate jewellery out of plastic waste.
Exposing ethical design to more people and raising money for sustainable projects are good things to do, but We Aren’t JUST What We Wear, we are also What We Do in every aspect of life. On my return home I was somewhat saddened to read about a couple of other auction sponsors: it was also possible to win a test track experience with Jaguar or a BMW for the weekend. There is a distinct lack of joined up thinking in ethical practice: a Mint Leaf waiter could not tell me whether the chicken they served us was freerange or organic.
We Are What We Wear was a massive success: raising over £10,000 to support sustainable weaving projects in India, but I wish that there was more recognition within the charity sector that sustainable practice involves more than donating money for dinner to support those less fortunate on the other side of the world, it’s about a holistic way of being. Within this world view I do not include hyping the desirability of extremely expensive energy guzzling cars. Needless to say, mine was the only bike tied up outside the Mint Leaf restaurant.
order Photography by Amelia Gregory” title=”Find Your Feet Honey’s Dance Academy, Photography by Amelia Gregory” width=”480″ height=”320″ class=”aligncenter size-full wp-image-38157″ />
Bollywood dancing from Honey’s Dance Academy by Jane Young.
We were treated to some very energetic Bollywood dancing thanks to Honey’s Dance Academy, followed by two short catwalk shows which took place on walkways surrounding the sunken restaurant. Models included youngsters and a couple of more mature women from Close Models, which provided a really uplifting touch.
Junky Styling. All photography by Amelia Gregory.
People Tree.
Bhavna.
Outsider.
During the first show we saw a fabulous multi layered pink maxi dress from ACOFI featured designer Junky Styling, cute dresses from People Tree, embellished bamboo dresses from Bhavna, and gorgeous silk classics from Outsider, who I discovered at Ecoluxe this season.
Amisha, Zoe, Orsola and the kids.
As I had a bar ticket I was able to roam around, and between shows sat with Zoe, Amisha Ghadalli, Maria Papadimitriou of Slowly the Eggs/Plastic Seconds and Orsola de Castro of From Somewhere, who was entertaining her young daughter and her friend. We ate some yummy canapes and watched a magician bend forks, then a Find Your Feet ambassador described the work done by this charity, which includes helping to fund sustainable farming practices. Fittingly, she described how a group of women in rural India bandied together to make the most of the mint growing on local farms – they now have a successful essential oil business.
The magician entertains the kids.
Charley Speed and bottle top bag.
Then it was on to the auction, where any mention of my book was usurped by the lure of a People Tree dress, as worn by a celebrity (Livia Firth) – the heavily make-up caked presenter Charley Speed dashing maniacally around the room to squeeze as much money as possible out of the generous crowd. The whole lot (including a bottle top bag) went for £300, and I can only hope that the recipient appreciated my donation because he probably had no clue what it was.
Round two featured three Amelia’s Magazine favourites from ACOFI: off-cut drama courtesy of From Somewhere, amazing sculptural pieces from Ada Zanditon and colourful dresses with sunflower decorations from By Stamo. There was also some playful printed dresses from Love Phool.
From Somewhere.
A range of ethical accessories were used to style the show, amongst them some old favourites: LeJu, Nina Dolcetti and Joanna Cave… and some new discoveries: Meher Kakalia, who adapts ancient shoemaking techniques from her home town of Karachi to create modern footwear in Brixton, and Kumvana Gomani, who creates delicate jewellery out of plastic waste.
Exposing ethical design to more people and raising money for sustainable projects are good things to do, but We Aren’t JUST What We Wear, we are also What We Do in every aspect of life. On my return home I was somewhat saddened to read about a couple of other auction sponsors: it was also possible to win a test track experience with Jaguar or a BMW for the weekend. There is a distinct lack of joined up thinking in ethical practice: a Mint Leaf waiter could not tell me whether the chicken they served us was freerange or organic.
We Are What We Wear was a massive success: raising over £10,000 to support sustainable weaving projects in India, but I wish that there was more recognition within the charity sector that sustainable practice involves more than donating money for dinner to support those less fortunate on the other side of the world, it’s about a holistic way of being. Within this world view I do not include hyping the desirability of extremely expensive energy guzzling cars. Needless to say, mine was the only bike tied up outside the Mint Leaf restaurant.
Bollywood dancing from Honey’s Dance Academy by Jane Young.
We were treated to some very energetic Bollywood dancing thanks to Honey’s Dance Academy, followed by two short catwalk shows which took place on walkways surrounding the sunken restaurant. Models included youngsters and a couple of more mature women from Close Models, which provided a really uplifting touch.
Junky Styling. All photography by Amelia Gregory.
People Tree.
Bhavna.
Outsider.
During the first show we saw a fabulous multi layered pink maxi dress from ACOFI featured designer Junky Styling, cute dresses from People Tree, embellished bamboo dresses from Bhavna, and gorgeous silk classics from Outsider, who I discovered at Ecoluxe this season.
Amisha, Zoe, Orsola and the kids.
As I had a bar ticket I was able to roam around, and between shows sat with Zoe, Amisha Ghadalli, Maria Papadimitriou of Slowly the Eggs/Plastic Seconds and Orsola de Castro of From Somewhere, who was entertaining her young daughter and her friend. We ate some yummy canapes and watched a magician bend forks, then a Find Your Feet ambassador described the work done by this charity, which includes helping to fund sustainable farming practices. Fittingly, she described how a group of women in rural India bandied together to make the most of the mint growing on local farms – they now have a successful essential oil business.
The magician entertains the kids.
Charley Speed and bottle top bag.
Then it was on to the auction, where any mention of my book was usurped by the lure of a People Tree dress, as worn by a celebrity (Livia Firth) – the presenter Charley Speed dashing maniacally around the room to squeeze as much money as possible out of the generous crowd. The whole lot (including a bottle top bag) went for £300, and I can only hope that the recipient appreciated my donation because he probably had no clue what it was.
Round two featured three Amelia’s Magazine favourites from ACOFI: off-cut drama courtesy of From Somewhere, amazing sculptural pieces from Ada Zanditon and colourful dresses with sunflower decorations from By Stamo. There was also some playful printed dresses from Love Phool.
A range of ethical accessories were used to style the show, amongst them some old favourites: LeJu, Nina Dolcetti and Joanna Cave… and some new discoveries: Meher Kakalia, who adapts ancient shoemaking techniques from her home town of Karachi to create modern footwear in Brixton, and Kumvana Gomani, who creates delicate jewellery out of plastic waste.
Exposing ethical design to more people and raising money for sustainable projects are good things to do, but We Aren’t JUST What We Wear, we are also What We Do in every aspect of life. On my return home I was somewhat saddened to read about a couple of other auction sponsors: it was also possible to win a test track experience with Jaguar or a BMW for the weekend. There is a distinct lack of joined up thinking in ethical practice: a Mint Leaf waiter could not tell me whether the chicken they served us was freerange or organic.
We Are What We Wear was a massive success: raising over £10,000 to support sustainable weaving projects in India, but I wish that there was more recognition within the charity sector that sustainable practice involves more than donating money for dinner to support those less fortunate on the other side of the world, it’s about a holistic way of being. Within this world view I do not include hyping the desirability of extremely expensive energy guzzling cars. Needless to say, mine was the only bike tied up outside the Mint Leaf restaurant.
When you have the radio on all the time, viagra sale it’s inevitable that you will discover new things. I discovered Rebekka Karijord when I was baking a Nigella Lawson chocolate cake for my boyfriend. The notepad next to the radio was left heavily smudged with chocolate as I scrawled her name down before it left my thoughts and sailed off onto the ‘wish I could remember island’. If you are fond of a female artist, piano notes and heart felt lyrics, you might like Karijord too. She’s smokey, delicate and sounds as if she is singing only for herself. The audience a dark blue mist, she is alone on a long boat sailing along the river of her thoughts, with only the midnight blue sky comforting her. Karijord disarms you almost on her first note. Her own honesty is just off uncomfortably raw. Perfect.
Rebekka Karijord was born in 1976 to two artists. Although born in Norway, she moved no less than 17 times before she hit the age of 18. She composed her first song at aged three, recording her fist demo with her own written songs, when she was eight. She began learning the violin and piano from five years old and started composing in English at 12. Later she attended the Norwegian Musical Theatre, Academy of ballet and the Royal Academy of Acting in Stockholm.
Her family are Swedish, and she feels as if she is both Norwegian and Swedish, but it is inevitable she would feel slightly confused after moving constantly from birth. However she eventually set down solid roots in Sweden’s Stockholm, after releasing two albums; Neophyte and Good or Goodbye, and travelling the world. Karijord wrote and recorded ‘The Noble Art of Letting Go’ in various locations around the woods and city of Stockholm. There is no denying the heartbreak and fear in the notes.
Rebekka made a statement years ago, saying she never just wanted to be able to sing beautifully, her desire has always been to project a story as well. This she clearly does with every song in ‘The Noble Art Of Letting Go’. As I pottered around my kitchen, the wind whipping up outside, I felt the ache of understanding, empathy and sadness. We all know that facing our buried ghosts and hidden distresses is what we should do. But when unguarded in a safe place, to hear a song that brings these buried thoughts to the surface without warning, is a shock and a liberation. Perfect for seeing the leafless back of winter and sitting within spring’s rebirthing attributes. Getting the self ready to make a whole host of mistakes to mull over when the clouds darken again.
Wear it Like A Crown, The Noble Art of Letting Go and Paperboy are three of my personal favourites from the album. The former two are serious, full of high, slow notes and the piano- soft, cantering and adding the necessary punctuation. They are both centered very much around rejection, fear and following the heart. In contrast to the piano’s melancholy, Paperboy’s harp is as light as cherry blossom. Yet, like all the tracks there is heartbreak in the lyrics. Parking Lot is a jumpier song, depicting love, hopes and dreams – RECKLESS LOVE – as horses being unleashed and spinning wheels. Fitting and excitable, it spells a desired destruction.
Fellow Nordic singer, Ane Brun joins Karijord for the final track on the album and another of my favourites; Morning Light Forgives The Night. Here they sing so tenderly, it’s as if listening to petals fall. The harp and strings compliment their high, ethereal voices, as they wander off into the distance. A calming end to the album that stays with you. Similar to the end of a film leaving you stunned. Or when something has happened that you’re unsure whether to welcome. It leaves your mind ticking over, revelling in the change you can feel you’re on the brink of.
Although it all sounds relatively melodramatic, Rebekka Karijord’s album is in fact refreshing and very enjoyable to listen to. Her voice is light enough to carry the heaviness of the words. It’s worth your pennies. Her album is available now on Lil Facit.
Illustration by Karolina Burdon
When you have the radio on all the time, price it’s inevitable that you will discover new things. I discovered Rebekka Karijord when I was baking a Nigella Lawson chocolate cake for my boyfriend. The notepad next to the radio was left heavily smudged with chocolate as I scrawled her name down before it left my thoughts and sailed off onto the ‘wish I could remember island’. If you are fond of a female artist, this web piano notes and heart felt lyrics, you might like Karijord too. She’s smokey, delicate and sounds as if she is singing only for herself. The audience a dark blue mist, she is alone on a long boat sailing along the river of her thoughts, with only the midnight blue sky comforting her. Karijord disarms you almost on her first note. Her own honesty is just off uncomfortably raw. Perfect.
Rebekka Karijord was born in 1976 to two artists. Although born in Norway, she moved no less than 17 times before she hit the age of 18. She composed her first song at aged three, recording her fist demo with her own written songs, when she was eight. She began learning the violin and piano from five years old and started composing in English at 12. Later she attended the Norwegian Musical Theatre, Academy of ballet and the Royal Academy of Acting in Stockholm.
Her family are Swedish, and she feels as if she is both Norwegian and Swedish, but it is inevitable she would feel slightly confused after moving constantly from birth. However she eventually set down solid roots in Sweden’s Stockholm, after releasing two albums; Neophyte and Good or Goodbye, and travelling the world. Karijord wrote and recorded ‘The Noble Art of Letting Go’ in various locations around the woods and city of Stockholm. There is no denying the heartbreak and fear in the notes.
Rebekka made a statement years ago, saying she never just wanted to be able to sing beautifully, her desire has always been to project a story as well. This she clearly does with every song in ‘The Noble Art Of Letting Go’. As I pottered around my kitchen, the wind whipping up outside, I felt the ache of understanding, empathy and sadness. We all know that facing our buried ghosts and hidden distresses is what we should do. But when unguarded in a safe place, to hear a song that brings these buried thoughts to the surface without warning, is a shock and a liberation. Perfect for seeing the leafless back of winter and sitting within spring’s rebirthing attributes. Getting the self ready to make a whole host of mistakes to mull over when the clouds darken again.
Wear it Like A Crown, The Noble Art of Letting Go and Paperboy are three of my personal favourites from the album. The former two are serious, full of high, slow notes and the piano- soft, cantering and adding the necessary punctuation. They are both centered very much around rejection, fear and following the heart. In contrast to the piano’s melancholy, Paperboy’s harp is as light as cherry blossom. Yet, like all the tracks there is heartbreak in the lyrics. Parking Lot is a jumpier song, depicting love, hopes and dreams – RECKLESS LOVE – as horses being unleashed and spinning wheels. Fitting and excitable, it spells a desired destruction.
Fellow Nordic singer, Ane Brun joins Karijord for the final track on the album and another of my favourites; Morning Light Forgives The Night. Here they sing so tenderly, it’s as if listening to petals fall. The harp and strings compliment their high, ethereal voices, as they wander off into the distance. A calming end to the album that stays with you. Similar to the end of a film leaving you stunned. Or when something has happened that you’re unsure whether to welcome. It leaves your mind ticking over, revelling in the change you can feel you’re on the brink of.
Although it all sounds relatively melodramatic, Rebekka Karijord’s album is in fact refreshing and very enjoyable to listen to. Her voice is light enough to carry the heaviness of the words. It’s worth your pennies. Her album is available now on Lil Facit.
Joanne Hynes and Helen Steele A/W 2011 by Matilde Sazio.
I wasn’t invited to Joanne Hynes and Helen Steele, pharmacy but the door staff spotted myself and Susie Bubble wandering aimlessly around in the entrance hall of Freemasons and urged us on towards the show… so we crept in at the back after it started. I managed to pick up a press release that explained this collaboration but in the intervening weeks it’s been lost, about it so I’ll just say that the hefty bit of promotional literature was a crazy mix of pattern and excessive colour, a bit like the clothes which were a collaboration between a pair of Irish ladies: Joanne Hynes, who is a fashion designer, and Helen Steele, who is an artist. An interesting concept I am sure you will agree…
The collection was called Les Guerriers, in reference to the fierce warrior women of which Ireland is enormously proud, and was a mish mash of textures: wools, tweed and brocades, aran knitwear and metallic leathers, all styled with birds nest hairdos, literally, in the case of some models, who sported vast twig hats. Shoes were frankly barking: cutaway platforms at least half a foot off the ground. There were a couple of draped and ruched dresses with studded crystal pan collars that stood out and I liked the cute psychedelic digitally printed swing dresses which had been abstracted from Helen’s paintings, but I was instantly turned off by vast copious quantities of real fur. Bleurgh. Susie lost interest after just a few outfits.
Loving that stance!
And WHAT is that last outfit?! Do the words Dog and Dinner come to mind?
All photography by Amelia Gregory.
Written by Amelia Gregory on Thursday March 17th, 2011 6:32 pm
Way back in 2007, shop Amelia’s Magazine was one of the first to recognise the raw talent of a young Johnny Flynn, decease who won us over with the delicately nuanced themes in his poetic and lyrical songwriting. (The fact that he could wield a Gibson guitar like nobodies business also helped make him alright in our books). Fast forward to today and it’s safe to say that the kid done good. Supporting Mumford & Sons in their upcoming October tour, performing at summer festivals all over the country (including this weekends Cambridge Folk Festival) and collaborating with Laura Marling and Anna Calvi, Johnny has more than established himself in the British folk canon. But Johnny is no one trick pony; his new album Been Listening shows a strong appreciation of musical diversity, and gives respectful nods to early 20th Century blues, African music, and even takes inspiration from Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha. His creative streak runs deep, and the animated video for his new single, Barnacled Warship (released August 16th) is a dark dystopia directed by Christian DeVita, lead storyboard artist on Wes Anderson’s ‘Fantastic Mr Fox’ as well as Tim Burton’s forthcoming ‘Frankenweenie’.
So, as you can imagine, we felt that a catch-up with Johnny was long overdue, and so when we were approached by his team to do a video interview, it was only a matter of fighting over which contributor was the biggest fan (the honour went to the lovely Chloe) and then we were ready to go!
Watch the feature for Barnacled Warship here:
Way back in 2007, sale Amelia’s Magazine was one of the first to recognise the raw talent of a young Johnny Flynn, sales who won us over with the delicately nuanced themes in his poetic and lyrical songwriting. (The fact that he could wield a Gibson guitar like nobodies business also helped make him alright in our books). Fast forward to today and it’s safe to say that the kid done good. Supporting Mumford & Sons in their upcoming October tour, erectile performing at summer festivals all over the country (including this weekends Cambridge Folk Festival) and collaborating with Laura Marling and Anna Calvi, Johnny has more than established himself in the British folk canon. But Johnny is no one trick pony; his new album Been Listening shows a strong appreciation of musical diversity, and gives respectful nods to early 20th Century blues, African music, and even takes inspiration from Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha. His creative streak runs deep, and the animated video for his new single, Barnacled Warship (released August 16th) is a dark dystopia directed by Christian DeVita, lead storyboard artist on Wes Anderson’s ‘Fantastic Mr Fox’ as well as Tim Burton’s forthcoming ‘Frankenweenie’.
So, as you can imagine, we felt that a catch-up with Johnny was long overdue, and so when we were approached by his team to do a video interview, it was only a matter of fighting over which contributor was the biggest fan (the honour went to the lovely Chloe) and then we were ready to go!
Watch the feature for Barnacled Warship here:
Way back in 2007, for sale Amelia’s Magazine was one of the first to recognise the raw talent of a young Johnny Flynn, search who won us over with the delicately nuanced themes in his poetic and lyrical songwriting. (The fact that he could wield a Gibson guitar like nobodies business also helped make him alright in our books). Fast forward to today and it’s safe to say that the kid done good. Supporting Mumford & Sons in their upcoming October tour, site performing at summer festivals all over the country (including this weekends Cambridge Folk Festival) and collaborating with Laura Marling and Anna Calvi, Johnny has more than established himself in the British folk canon. But Johnny is no one trick pony; his new album Been Listening shows a strong appreciation of musical diversity, and gives respectful nods to early 20th Century blues, African music, and even takes inspiration from Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha. His creative streak runs deep, and the animated video for his new single, Barnacled Warship (released August 16th) is a dark dystopia directed by Christian DeVita, lead storyboard artist on Wes Anderson’s ‘Fantastic Mr Fox’ as well as Tim Burton’s forthcoming ‘Frankenweenie’.
So, as you can imagine, we felt that a catch-up with Johnny was long overdue, and so when we were approached by his team to do a video interview, it was only a matter of fighting over which contributor was the biggest fan (the honour went to the lovely Chloe) and then we were ready to go!
Watch the feature for Barnacled Warship here:
Go to Johnny’s MySpace and website for lots more, including his newly released tour dates.
Way back in 2007, ed Amelia’s Magazine was one of the first to recognise the raw talent of a young Johnny Flynn, who won us over with the delicately nuanced themes in his poetic and lyrical songwriting. (The fact that he could wield a Gibson guitar like nobodies business also helped make him alright in our books). Fast forward to today and it’s safe to say that the kid done good. Supporting Mumford & Sons in their upcoming October tour, performing at summer festivals all over the country (including this weekends Cambridge Folk Festival) and collaborating with Laura Marling and Anna Calvi, Johnny has more than established himself in the British folk canon. But Johnny is no one trick pony; his new album Been Listening shows a strong appreciation of musical diversity, and gives respectful nods to early 20th Century blues, African music, and even takes inspiration from Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha. His creative streak runs deep, and the animated video for his new single, Barnacled Warship (released August 16th) is a dark dystopia directed by Christian DeVita, lead storyboard artist on Wes Anderson’s ‘Fantastic Mr Fox’ as well as Tim Burton’s forthcoming ‘Frankenweenie’.
So, as you can imagine, we felt that a catch-up with Johnny was long overdue, and so when we were approached by his team to do a video interview, it was only a matter of fighting over which contributor was the biggest fan (the honour went to the lovely Chloe) and then we were ready to go!
Watch the feature for Barnacled Warship here:
Go to Johnny’s MySpace and website for lots more, including his newly released tour dates.
All photography by Amelia Gregory.
You may remember way back in the mists of time, this web well, viagra buy at the start of June at any rate, cialis 40mg that I went off on a solidarity bike ride to Rossport in County Mayo. I got the biking part written up but as is usual it’s taken me forever to get this last part together – but maybe that’s no bad thing because it means I can give you a much more up to date account of happenings over on Glengad Beach, Rossport in County Mayo, possibly one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been.
My Saturday at Rossport Summer Gathering was spent in various workshops, hearing from locals who have struggled against the pipeline, talking about ways in which communities can be linked up, watching a gorgeous live animation about Grace O’Malley, the Pirate Queen of Mayo, playing football, ceilidh-ing into the sunset and possibly my highlight: hearing Niall Harnett (currently still incarcerated in prison – see my previous blog) speak live over the Pedals PA system from Castlerea.
On Sunday more workshops were followed by possibly the funniest, most surreal and enjoyable mass action ever. Gathering our spades we set off en masse with the locals to dig a hole on Glengad Beach where Shell’s oily pipeline has been illegally laid in an attempt to get a head start on planning permission. This was necessarily a bit of a fool’s mission since we didn’t really believe our merry gang would actually expose the pipe, even with the help of many burly hands.
Shell has hired private security to live above this remote beach 24/7 in order to intimidate anyone who makes a fuss, and if our intention was to freak out them out then our action could be considered a success. It took awhile, but after several hours of energetic digging and sand slinging a number of curiously stereotypical security staff finally appeared at the top of the rise, whereupon a group of us gleefully scrambled up to dance in front of their less than well hidden film cameras.
Eventually most people got bored and hungry enough to wander off in search of supper so we never did reach Australia, or even the pipe, which was presumably laid far deeper by machines than we could ever hope to reach. But it felt so so empowering and was certainly the most joyous action I’ve ever taken part in.
Since we were there for the June gathering the real work has started in earnest, as Shell sets out to drill 80 boreholes along the coastline to complete the survey for the pipeline. Because the estuary near Glengad Beach is part of the Broadhaven Bay Special Area of Conservation they will have to stop drilling when the Brent Geese arrive in October, but in the meantime the operation is damaging parts of the estuary and disturbing Atlantic salmon, otters and rare birds found on the intertidal areas.
The folks living at Rossport have therefore launched the Beat the Boreholes campaign calling for groups or individuals to come and stop a specific borehole this summer – by doing anything from holding a banner and walking out onto the sands, or getting in the way by kayaking out to and boarding the drilling rigs. The plan is to make progress so impossible that the surveys cannot be completed this year, thereby holding up the implementation of the pipeline and costing Shell even more money in the process.
The idea was inspired by the 365 day blockade at Faslane nuclear base in Scotland – a place I have also visited and helped to blockade way back in 2005 when I was at the G8 protests at Stirling.
Kayak training.
News just in: Only a few weeks ago a group of campaigners set out on kayaks and rafts to try and stop work on one of the drilling platforms. They were met by a group of Gardai (Irish police) and had their kayaks overturned. One of the activists attempted to swim under the platform and was manhandled aboard their boat even though he volunteered to leave the area. His throat was pinched to cut off the air supply as a Garda whispered in his ear “I have your last breath in my hands.” He later received medical treatment.
It looks so peaceful doesn’t it?
There has been continuous human rights abuse at Rossport, just one more reason why you should get along and help out – your presence will help whatever action you chose to take when you are there, so don’t feel that you have to get all the way into the water like some brave souls. It really is so important to keep the pressure on at flashpoints like Rossport, and Erris is a place you will fall in love with. Find out more information about going to Rossport here.
Written by Amelia Gregory on Friday July 30th, 2010 3:37 pm
Way back in 2007, shop Amelia’s Magazine was one of the first to recognise the raw talent of a young Johnny Flynn, decease who won us over with the delicately nuanced themes in his poetic and lyrical songwriting. (The fact that he could wield a Gibson guitar like nobodies business also helped make him alright in our books). Fast forward to today and it’s safe to say that the kid done good. Supporting Mumford & Sons in their upcoming October tour, performing at summer festivals all over the country (including this weekends Cambridge Folk Festival) and collaborating with Laura Marling and Anna Calvi, Johnny has more than established himself in the British folk canon. But Johnny is no one trick pony; his new album Been Listening shows a strong appreciation of musical diversity, and gives respectful nods to early 20th Century blues, African music, and even takes inspiration from Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha. His creative streak runs deep, and the animated video for his new single, Barnacled Warship (released August 16th) is a dark dystopia directed by Christian DeVita, lead storyboard artist on Wes Anderson’s ‘Fantastic Mr Fox’ as well as Tim Burton’s forthcoming ‘Frankenweenie’.
So, as you can imagine, we felt that a catch-up with Johnny was long overdue, and so when we were approached by his team to do a video interview, it was only a matter of fighting over which contributor was the biggest fan (the honour went to the lovely Chloe) and then we were ready to go!
Watch the feature for Barnacled Warship here:
Way back in 2007, sale Amelia’s Magazine was one of the first to recognise the raw talent of a young Johnny Flynn, sales who won us over with the delicately nuanced themes in his poetic and lyrical songwriting. (The fact that he could wield a Gibson guitar like nobodies business also helped make him alright in our books). Fast forward to today and it’s safe to say that the kid done good. Supporting Mumford & Sons in their upcoming October tour, erectile performing at summer festivals all over the country (including this weekends Cambridge Folk Festival) and collaborating with Laura Marling and Anna Calvi, Johnny has more than established himself in the British folk canon. But Johnny is no one trick pony; his new album Been Listening shows a strong appreciation of musical diversity, and gives respectful nods to early 20th Century blues, African music, and even takes inspiration from Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha. His creative streak runs deep, and the animated video for his new single, Barnacled Warship (released August 16th) is a dark dystopia directed by Christian DeVita, lead storyboard artist on Wes Anderson’s ‘Fantastic Mr Fox’ as well as Tim Burton’s forthcoming ‘Frankenweenie’.
So, as you can imagine, we felt that a catch-up with Johnny was long overdue, and so when we were approached by his team to do a video interview, it was only a matter of fighting over which contributor was the biggest fan (the honour went to the lovely Chloe) and then we were ready to go!
Watch the feature for Barnacled Warship here:
Way back in 2007, for sale Amelia’s Magazine was one of the first to recognise the raw talent of a young Johnny Flynn, search who won us over with the delicately nuanced themes in his poetic and lyrical songwriting. (The fact that he could wield a Gibson guitar like nobodies business also helped make him alright in our books). Fast forward to today and it’s safe to say that the kid done good. Supporting Mumford & Sons in their upcoming October tour, site performing at summer festivals all over the country (including this weekends Cambridge Folk Festival) and collaborating with Laura Marling and Anna Calvi, Johnny has more than established himself in the British folk canon. But Johnny is no one trick pony; his new album Been Listening shows a strong appreciation of musical diversity, and gives respectful nods to early 20th Century blues, African music, and even takes inspiration from Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha. His creative streak runs deep, and the animated video for his new single, Barnacled Warship (released August 16th) is a dark dystopia directed by Christian DeVita, lead storyboard artist on Wes Anderson’s ‘Fantastic Mr Fox’ as well as Tim Burton’s forthcoming ‘Frankenweenie’.
So, as you can imagine, we felt that a catch-up with Johnny was long overdue, and so when we were approached by his team to do a video interview, it was only a matter of fighting over which contributor was the biggest fan (the honour went to the lovely Chloe) and then we were ready to go!
Watch the feature for Barnacled Warship here:
Go to Johnny’s MySpace and website for lots more, including his newly released tour dates.
Way back in 2007, ed Amelia’s Magazine was one of the first to recognise the raw talent of a young Johnny Flynn, who won us over with the delicately nuanced themes in his poetic and lyrical songwriting. (The fact that he could wield a Gibson guitar like nobodies business also helped make him alright in our books). Fast forward to today and it’s safe to say that the kid done good. Supporting Mumford & Sons in their upcoming October tour, performing at summer festivals all over the country (including this weekends Cambridge Folk Festival) and collaborating with Laura Marling and Anna Calvi, Johnny has more than established himself in the British folk canon. But Johnny is no one trick pony; his new album Been Listening shows a strong appreciation of musical diversity, and gives respectful nods to early 20th Century blues, African music, and even takes inspiration from Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha. His creative streak runs deep, and the animated video for his new single, Barnacled Warship (released August 16th) is a dark dystopia directed by Christian DeVita, lead storyboard artist on Wes Anderson’s ‘Fantastic Mr Fox’ as well as Tim Burton’s forthcoming ‘Frankenweenie’.
So, as you can imagine, we felt that a catch-up with Johnny was long overdue, and so when we were approached by his team to do a video interview, it was only a matter of fighting over which contributor was the biggest fan (the honour went to the lovely Chloe) and then we were ready to go!
Watch the feature for Barnacled Warship here:
Go to Johnny’s MySpace and website for lots more, including his newly released tour dates.
All photography by Amelia Gregory.
You may remember way back in the mists of time, this web well, viagra buy at the start of June at any rate, cialis 40mg that I went off on a solidarity bike ride to Rossport in County Mayo. I got the biking part written up but as is usual it’s taken me forever to get this last part together – but maybe that’s no bad thing because it means I can give you a much more up to date account of happenings over on Glengad Beach, Rossport in County Mayo, possibly one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been.
My Saturday at Rossport Summer Gathering was spent in various workshops, hearing from locals who have struggled against the pipeline, talking about ways in which communities can be linked up, watching a gorgeous live animation about Grace O’Malley, the Pirate Queen of Mayo, playing football, ceilidh-ing into the sunset and possibly my highlight: hearing Niall Harnett (currently still incarcerated in prison – see my previous blog) speak live over the Pedals PA system from Castlerea.
On Sunday more workshops were followed by possibly the funniest, most surreal and enjoyable mass action ever. Gathering our spades we set off en masse with the locals to dig a hole on Glengad Beach where Shell’s oily pipeline has been illegally laid in an attempt to get a head start on planning permission. This was necessarily a bit of a fool’s mission since we didn’t really believe our merry gang would actually expose the pipe, even with the help of many burly hands.
Shell has hired private security to live above this remote beach 24/7 in order to intimidate anyone who makes a fuss, and if our intention was to freak out them out then our action could be considered a success. It took awhile, but after several hours of energetic digging and sand slinging a number of curiously stereotypical security staff finally appeared at the top of the rise, whereupon a group of us gleefully scrambled up to dance in front of their less than well hidden film cameras.
Eventually most people got bored and hungry enough to wander off in search of supper so we never did reach Australia, or even the pipe, which was presumably laid far deeper by machines than we could ever hope to reach. But it felt so so empowering and was certainly the most joyous action I’ve ever taken part in.
Since we were there for the June gathering the real work has started in earnest, as Shell sets out to drill 80 boreholes along the coastline to complete the survey for the pipeline. Because the estuary near Glengad Beach is part of the Broadhaven Bay Special Area of Conservation they will have to stop drilling when the Brent Geese arrive in October, but in the meantime the operation is damaging parts of the estuary and disturbing Atlantic salmon, otters and rare birds found on the intertidal areas.
The folks living at Rossport have therefore launched the Beat the Boreholes campaign calling for groups or individuals to come and stop a specific borehole this summer – by doing anything from holding a banner and walking out onto the sands, or getting in the way by kayaking out to and boarding the drilling rigs. The plan is to make progress so impossible that the surveys cannot be completed this year, thereby holding up the implementation of the pipeline and costing Shell even more money in the process.
The idea was inspired by the 365 day blockade at Faslane nuclear base in Scotland – a place I have also visited and helped to blockade way back in 2005 when I was at the G8 protests at Stirling.
Kayak training.
News just in: Only a few weeks ago a group of campaigners set out on kayaks and rafts to try and stop work on one of the drilling platforms. They were met by a group of Gardai (Irish police) and had their kayaks overturned. One of the activists attempted to swim under the platform and was manhandled aboard their boat even though he volunteered to leave the area. His throat was pinched to cut off the air supply as a Garda whispered in his ear “I have your last breath in my hands.” He later received medical treatment.
It looks so peaceful doesn’t it?
There has been continuous human rights abuse at Rossport, just one more reason why you should get along and help out – your presence will help whatever action you chose to take when you are there, so don’t feel that you have to get all the way into the water like some brave souls. It really is so important to keep the pressure on at flashpoints like Rossport, and Erris is a place you will fall in love with. Find out more information about going to Rossport here.
Written by Amelia Gregory on Friday July 30th, 2010 3:37 pm
On Sunday we lost a few and gained a few. Pete Lawrie called by with terrible hayfever to say he couldn’t sing for fear of losing his voice but kindly volunteered to perform at another Climate Camp benefit. Of course I made him stand in front of our banners so I could get a photo anyway.
Pete Lawrie.
Robinson just didn’t turn up. I missed a phone call whilst doing an impromptu Green Kite Midnight gig at the Greenpeace Stage, nurse which laughably requested that I get on the radios to sort out a vehicle escort to meet them from their Acoustic Stage gig (erm, buy information pills did you read any of my emails?) They then ignored all my later frantic calls. Professional. Still, they probably wouldn’t have had much of an audience, what with them clashing with that embarrassing worldcup football match and all. I missed most of Pete the Temp but managed to catch him performing some fun mashed up covers dressed in a tutu from our grand raffle.
Lulu and the Lampshades decided to play at the last minute once their Glastonbury tickets were confirmed. Fronted by my former art editor, the super talented Luisa Gerstein, I am ashamed to say that this was the first time I had seen them perform live. I had previously only visited them on myspace, which really doesn’t do justice to their ace live performance. Playing on a variety of strange string instruments, an old typewriter and an assortment of pots, pans and donating buckets scoured from the Climate Camp kitchen, they were incredibly inventive.
Both myself and Luisa have camped extensively with Forest School Camps, and her glorious melodies reflect the mix of traditional English, Irish, Scottish and American Bluegrass music that we love to sing around campfires.
Lulu and the Lampshades ended on an acapella version of traditional gospel song You’re Gonna Miss Me When I’m Gone – here performed with just two of the band members and some old yoghurt pots (another trick I suspect she learnt around the campfire). A cult classic if ever I saw one – there are already multiple tributes on youtube.
Luisa’s best bit about playing the Tripod Stage: our make-shift drum-kit from the catering tent. Luisa’s best bit about Glastonbury this year: Sunday evening: Mountain Man in the Crow’s Nest followed by Dirty Projectors followed by Stevie Wonder; twas dreamy.
You can catch Lulu and the Lampshades at Bestival later this year.
Cats and Cats and Cats then borrowed a number of instruments from Lulu and the Lampshades to play another exclusive for the Tripod Stage, lead singer Ben George having come down from his parent’s pottery stand in the Green Fields to offer us the gig. Quite fortuitously Cats and Cats and Cats have their debut album If I’d Had An Atlas out this week, so we were treated to stripped down versions of a range of songs which I’ve since been able to listen to on record.
When and where was the album recorded?
If I’d Had An Atlas was recorded over 11 days in deepest darkest Wales (Giant Wafer Studios in the Brecon Beacons), it was great to be so far away from any bustling cities and we could really concentrate there. We also did some recordings of extra instruments (tuba, cello, accordion etc.) in Folkestone at Barewires Studios.
What inspired the name If I’d Had An Atlas?
The name is from a lyric in the title track which reads “I don’t know, if I’d had an atlas, where we would be,” which fell out of my brain at some point and I scribbled it down. I like the imagery of someone imagining that if they’d had a map they would have done things differently but of course there is no map and life is chaotic and that’s why it’s amazing.
What was the best bit about playing on the Tripod Stage?
I really enjoyed just turning up and using what instruments we could gather to piece together a set and then managing to pull it off! Thanks loads to Lulu and the Lampshades for lending us their equipment and also for being really brilliant. The only bad point was when I dedicated a song to my brother only to find he’d run off to watch Nora Jones!
What was your favourite part of Glastonbury this year?
I saw some of my favourite Glastonbury performances this year by bands like: Boxcar Aldous Huxley, Tubelord, The Dirty Projectors, Meursault and Imogen Heap; I was also gobsmacked at the lightning men and amounts of fire in Arcadia. But I have to say the weather, I was there for 8 days and I didn’t see a drop of rain. Amazing.
What other festivals are you playing at?
We’ve got a couple more lined up in July: Lounge on the Farm in Canterbury on Friday 9th (at 12pm) and 2000 Trees Festival in Cheltenham on Saturday 17th. Then we’ll be playing a farewell show for our violin player in London at some point as she’s leaving the band, but we’ll be back on the scene in October for a UK tour. Hopefully see you soon.
Ben has one of those voices that delights in the slightly out of the tune: it shouldn’t work, and sometimes it grates, but most of the time it somehow does: his wailing vocals become a feature in themselves, especially when offset against such a lush backdrop: brass, strings, entire orchestras, choirs, all of which have their place on this album – occasionally screeching to a standstill that echoes the offkilter vocals. It’s all great fun. Stand out single A Boy Called Haunts is a triumphant melody about
An acquired taste maybe, but wonderfully original and definitely a grower. Well worth checking out.
Our final performer was another late booking – Attila the Stockbroker, pint in hand, gave us some grand punk beat poetry. 60 years old and able to give any number of youngsters a run for their money. I’d like to see more of him one day.
And so ended my Tripod Stage musical line-up. And what a joy it was. Here’s hoping we can do as well next year…
On Sunday we lost a few and gained a few. Pete Lawrie called by with terrible hayfever to say he couldn’t sing for fear of losing his voice but kindly volunteered to perform at another Climate Camp benefit. Of course I made him stand in front of our banners so I could get a photo anyway.
Pete Lawrie.
Robinson just didn’t turn up. I missed a phone call whilst doing an impromptu Green Kite Midnight gig at the Greenpeace Stage, patient which laughably requested that I get on the radios to sort out a vehicle escort to meet them from their Acoustic Stage gig (erm, stomach did you read any of my emails?) They then ignored all my later frantic calls. Professional. Still, pharmacy they probably wouldn’t have had much of an audience, what with them clashing with that embarrassing worldcup football match and all.
I missed most of Pete the Temp but managed to catch him performing some fun mashed up covers dressed in a tutu from our grand raffle.
Lulu and the Lampshades decided to play at the last minute once their Glastonbury tickets were confirmed. Fronted by my former art editor, the super talented Luisa Gerstein, I am ashamed to say that this was the first time I had seen them perform live. I had previously only visited them on myspace, which really doesn’t do justice to their ace live performance. Playing on a variety of strange string instruments, an old typewriter and an assortment of pots, pans and donating buckets scoured from the Climate Camp kitchen, they were incredibly inventive.
Both myself and Luisa have camped extensively with Forest School Camps, and her glorious melodies reflect the mix of traditional English, Irish, Scottish and American Bluegrass music that we love to sing around campfires.
Lulu and the Lampshades ended on an acapella version of traditional gospel song You’re Gonna Miss Me When I’m Gone – here performed with just two of the band members and some old yoghurt pots (another trick I suspect she learnt around the campfire). A cult classic if ever I saw one – there are already multiple tributes on youtube.
Luisa’s best bit about playing the Tripod Stage: our make-shift drum-kit from the catering tent. Luisa’s best bit about Glastonbury this year: Sunday evening: Mountain Man in the Crow’s Nest followed by Dirty Projectors followed by Stevie Wonder; twas dreamy.
You can catch Lulu and the Lampshades at Bestival later this year.
Cats and Cats and Cats then borrowed a number of instruments from Lulu and the Lampshades to play another exclusive for the Tripod Stage, lead singer Ben George having come down from his parent’s pottery stand in the Green Fields to offer us the gig. Quite fortuitously Cats and Cats and Cats have their debut album If I’d Had An Atlas out this week, so we were treated to stripped down versions of a range of songs which I’ve since been able to listen to on record.
When and where was the album recorded?
If I’d Had An Atlas was recorded over 11 days in deepest darkest Wales (Giant Wafer Studios in the Brecon Beacons), it was great to be so far away from any bustling cities and we could really concentrate there. We also did some recordings of extra instruments (tuba, cello, accordion etc.) in Folkestone at Barewires Studios.
What inspired the name If I’d Had An Atlas?
The name is from a lyric in the title track which reads “I don’t know, if I’d had an atlas, where we would be,” which fell out of my brain at some point and I scribbled it down. I like the imagery of someone imagining that if they’d had a map they would have done things differently but of course there is no map and life is chaotic and that’s why it’s amazing.
What was the best bit about playing on the Tripod Stage?
I really enjoyed just turning up and using what instruments we could gather to piece together a set and then managing to pull it off! Thanks loads to Lulu and the Lampshades for lending us their equipment and also for being really brilliant. The only bad point was when I dedicated a song to my brother only to find he’d run off to watch Nora Jones!
What was your favourite part of Glastonbury this year?
I saw some of my favourite Glastonbury performances this year by bands like: Boxcar Aldous Huxley, Tubelord, the Dirty Projectors, Meursault and Imogen Heap; I was also gobsmacked at the lightning men and amounts of fire in Arcadia. But I have to say the weather, I was there for 8 days and I didn’t see a drop of rain. Amazing.
What other festivals are you playing at?
We’ve got a couple more lined up in July: Lounge on the Farm in Canterbury on Friday 9th (at 12pm) and 2000 Trees Festival in Cheltenham on Saturday 17th. Then we’ll be playing a farewell show for our violin player in London at some point as she’s leaving the band, but we’ll be back on the scene in October for a UK tour. Hopefully see you soon.
Ben has one of those voices that delights in the slightly out of the tune: it shouldn’t work, and sometimes it grates, but most of the time it somehow does: his wailing vocals become a feature in themselves, especially when offset against such a lush backdrop: brass, strings, entire orchestras, choirs, all of which have their place on this album – occasionally screeching to a standstill that echoes the offkilter vocals. It’s all great fun. Stand out single A Boy Called Haunts is a triumphant melody about
An acquired taste maybe, but wonderfully original and definitely a grower. Well worth checking out.
Our final performer was another late booking – Attila the Stockbroker, pint in hand, gave us some grand punk beat poetry. 60 years old and able to give any number of youngsters a run for their money. I’d like to see more of him one day.
And so ended my Tripod Stage musical line-up. And what a joy it was. Here’s hoping we can do as well next year…
On Sunday we lost a few and gained a few. Pete Lawrie called by with terrible hayfever to say he couldn’t sing for fear of losing his voice but kindly volunteered to perform at another Climate Camp benefit. Of course I made him stand in front of our banners so I could get a photo anyway.
Pete Lawrie.
Robinson just didn’t turn up. I missed a phone call whilst doing an impromptu Green Kite Midnight gig at the Greenpeace Stage, price which laughably requested that I get on the radios to sort out a vehicle escort to meet them from their Acoustic Stage gig (erm, did you read any of my emails?) They then ignored all my later frantic calls. Professional. Still, they probably wouldn’t have had much of an audience, what with them clashing with that embarrassing worldcup football match and all.
I missed most of Pete the Temp but managed to catch him performing some fun mashed up covers dressed in a tutu from our grand raffle.
Lulu and the Lampshades decided to play at the last minute once their Glastonbury tickets were confirmed. Fronted by my former art editor, the super talented Luisa Gerstein, I am ashamed to say that this was the first time I had seen them perform live. I had previously only visited them on myspace, which really doesn’t do justice to their ace live performance. Playing on a variety of strange string instruments, an old typewriter and an assortment of pots, pans and donating buckets scoured from the Climate Camp kitchen, they were incredibly inventive.
Both myself and Luisa have camped extensively with Forest School Camps, and her glorious melodies reflect the mix of traditional English, Irish, Scottish and American Bluegrass music that we love to sing around campfires.
Lulu and the Lampshades ended on an acapella version of traditional gospel song You’re Gonna Miss Me When I’m Gone – here performed with just two of the band members and some old yoghurt pots (another trick I suspect she learnt around the campfire). A cult classic if ever I saw one – there are already multiple tributes on youtube.
Luisa’s best bit about playing the Tripod Stage: our make-shift drum-kit from the catering tent. Luisa’s best bit about Glastonbury this year: Sunday evening: Mountain Man in the Crow’s Nest followed by Dirty Projectors followed by Stevie Wonder; twas dreamy.
You can catch Lulu and the Lampshades at Bestival later this year.
Cats and Cats and Cats then borrowed a number of instruments from Lulu and the Lampshades to play another exclusive for the Tripod Stage, lead singer Ben George having come down from his parent’s pottery stand in the Green Fields to offer us the gig. Quite fortuitously Cats and Cats and Cats have their debut album If I’d Had An Atlas out this week, so we were treated to stripped down versions of a range of songs which I’ve since been able to listen to on record.
When and where was the album recorded?
If I’d Had An Atlas was recorded over 11 days in deepest darkest Wales (Giant Wafer Studios in the Brecon Beacons), it was great to be so far away from any bustling cities and we could really concentrate there. We also did some recordings of extra instruments (tuba, cello, accordion etc.) in Folkestone at Barewires Studios.
What inspired the name If I’d Had An Atlas?
The name is from a lyric in the title track which reads “I don’t know, if I’d had an atlas, where we would be,” which fell out of my brain at some point and I scribbled it down. I like the imagery of someone imagining that if they’d had a map they would have done things differently but of course there is no map and life is chaotic and that’s why it’s amazing.
What was the best bit about playing on the Tripod Stage?
I really enjoyed just turning up and using what instruments we could gather to piece together a set and then managing to pull it off! Thanks loads to Lulu and the Lampshades for lending us their equipment and also for being really brilliant. The only bad point was when I dedicated a song to my brother only to find he’d run off to watch Nora Jones!
What was your favourite part of Glastonbury this year?
I saw some of my favourite Glastonbury performances this year by bands like: Boxcar Aldous Huxley, Tubelord, the Dirty Projectors, Meursault and Imogen Heap; I was also gobsmacked at the lightning men and amounts of fire in Arcadia. But I have to say the weather, I was there for 8 days and I didn’t see a drop of rain. Amazing.
What other festivals are you playing at?
We’ve got a couple more lined up in July: Lounge on the Farm in Canterbury on Friday 9th (at 12pm) and 2000 Trees Festival in Cheltenham on Saturday 17th. Then we’ll be playing a farewell show for our violin player in London at some point as she’s leaving the band, but we’ll be back on the scene in October for a UK tour. Hopefully see you soon.
Ben has one of those voices that delights in the slightly out of the tune: it shouldn’t work, and sometimes it grates, but most of the time it somehow does: his wailing vocals become a feature in themselves, especially when offset against such a lush backdrop: brass, strings, entire orchestras, choirs, all of which have their place on this album – occasionally screeching to a standstill that echoes the offkilter vocals. It’s all great fun. Stand out single A Boy Called Haunts is a triumphant melody about… a boy who is trying to impress a girl, so he dresses up as a ghost on Halloween. Only trouble is that he then becomes a real ghost and discovers that she spends her free time having sex with men in porn films. As you do. Ben has been learning Japanese for 3 years so he decided to write a song in Japanese “half to see if I could and half to show off”. Towards the end of the album curveball Suizokukanni works surprisingly well, even if the subject matter is equally bonkers. In it Ben’s fictional brother talks to the fish in the garden pond so he gets shunned. One day Ben hears the fish in the garden calling his name and realises he can talk to them. The last line roughly translates to “Lets go to the aquarium together and never return!”. This is followed by the beautiful The Smallest Song, a much quieter and more subdued affair, even as the brass section kicks in. The next single will be If I’d Had Antlers, which features sawed and plucked violin melded to off kilter beats and a surprisingly delicate melody. Watch out for the animated video. Cats and Cats and Cats might be an acquired taste, but they’re wonderfully original and definitely a grower. Well worth checking out.
Our final performer was another late booking – Attila the Stockbroker, pint in hand, gave us some grand punk beat poetry. 60 years old and able to give any number of youngsters a run for their money. I’d like to see more of him one day.
And so ended my Tripod Stage musical line-up. And what a joy it was. Here’s hoping we can do as well next year…
On Sunday we lost a few and gained a few. Pete Lawrie called by with terrible hayfever to say he couldn’t sing for fear of losing his voice but kindly volunteered to perform at another Climate Camp benefit. Of course I made him stand in front of our banners so I could get a photo anyway.
Pete Lawrie.
Robinson just didn’t turn up. I missed a phone call whilst doing an impromptu Green Kite Midnight gig at the Greenpeace Stage, there which laughably requested that I get on the radios to sort out a vehicle escort to meet them from their Acoustic Stage gig (erm, ailment did you read any of my emails?) They then ignored all my later frantic calls. Professional. Still, they probably wouldn’t have had much of an audience, what with them clashing with that embarrassing worldcup football match and all.
I missed most of Pete the Temp but managed to catch him performing some fun mashed up covers dressed in a tutu from our grand raffle.
Lulu and the Lampshades decided to play at the last minute once their Glastonbury tickets were confirmed. Fronted by my former art editor, the super talented Luisa Gerstein, I am ashamed to say that this was the first time I had seen them perform live. I had previously only visited them on myspace, which really doesn’t do justice to their ace live performance. Playing on a variety of strange string instruments, an old typewriter and an assortment of pots, pans and donating buckets scoured from the Climate Camp kitchen, they were incredibly inventive.
Both myself and Luisa have camped extensively with Forest School Camps, and her glorious melodies reflect the mix of traditional English, Irish, Scottish and American Bluegrass music that we love to sing around campfires.
Lulu and the Lampshades ended on an acapella version of traditional gospel song You’re Gonna Miss Me When I’m Gone – here performed with just two of the band members and some old yoghurt pots (another trick I suspect she learnt around the campfire). A cult classic if ever I saw one – there are already multiple tributes on youtube.
Luisa’s best bit about playing the Tripod Stage: our make-shift drum-kit from the catering tent. Luisa’s best bit about Glastonbury this year: Sunday evening: Mountain Man in the Crow’s Nest followed by Dirty Projectors followed by Stevie Wonder; twas dreamy.
You can catch Lulu and the Lampshades at Bestival later this year.
Cats and Cats and Cats then borrowed a number of instruments from Lulu and the Lampshades to play another exclusive for the Tripod Stage, lead singer Ben George having come down from his parent’s pottery stand in the Green Fields to offer us the gig. Quite fortuitously Cats and Cats and Cats have their debut album If I’d Had An Atlas out next week, so we were treated to stripped down versions of a range of songs which I’ve since been able to listen to on record.
When and where was the album recorded?
If I’d Had An Atlas was recorded over 11 days in deepest darkest Wales (Giant Wafer Studios in the Brecon Beacons), it was great to be so far away from any bustling cities and we could really concentrate there. We also did some recordings of extra instruments (tuba, cello, accordion etc.) in Folkestone at Barewires Studios.
What inspired the name If I’d Had An Atlas?
The name is from a lyric in the title track which reads “I don’t know, if I’d had an atlas, where we would be,” which fell out of my brain at some point and I scribbled it down. I like the imagery of someone imagining that if they’d had a map they would have done things differently but of course there is no map and life is chaotic and that’s why it’s amazing.
What was the best bit about playing on the Tripod Stage?
I really enjoyed just turning up and using what instruments we could gather to piece together a set and then managing to pull it off! Thanks loads to Lulu and the Lampshades for lending us their equipment and also for being really brilliant. The only bad point was when I dedicated a song to my brother only to find he’d run off to watch Nora Jones!
What was your favourite part of Glastonbury this year?
I saw some of my favourite Glastonbury performances this year by bands like: Boxcar Aldous Huxley, Tubelord, the Dirty Projectors, Meursault and Imogen Heap; I was also gobsmacked at the lightning men and amounts of fire in Arcadia. But I have to say the weather, I was there for 8 days and I didn’t see a drop of rain. Amazing.
What other festivals are you playing at?
We’ve got a couple more lined up in July: Lounge on the Farm in Canterbury on Friday 9th (at 12pm) and 2000 Trees Festival in Cheltenham on Saturday 17th. Then we’ll be playing a farewell show for our violin player in London at some point as she’s leaving the band, but we’ll be back on the scene in October for a UK tour. Hopefully see you soon.
Ben has one of those voices that delights in the slightly out of the tune: it shouldn’t work but most of the time it somehow does: his wailing vocals become a feature in themselves, especially when offset against such a lush backdrop: brass, strings, entire orchestras, choirs, all have their place on this album – occasionally screeching to a standstill that echoes the offkilter vocals. It’s all great fun. Stand out single A Boy Called Haunts is a triumphant melody about… a boy who is trying to impress a girl, so he dresses up as a ghost on Halloween. Only trouble is that he then becomes a real ghost and discovers that she spends her free time having sex with men in porn films. As you do. Ben has been learning Japanese for 3 years so he decided to write a song in Japanese “half to see if I could and half to show off”.
Towards the end of the album curveball Suizokukanni works surprisingly well, even if the subject matter is equally bonkers. In it Ben’s fictional brother talks to the fish in the garden pond so he gets shunned. One day Ben hears the fish in the garden calling his name and realises he can talk to them. The last line roughly translates to “Lets go to the aquarium together and never return!”. This is followed by the beautiful The Smallest Song, a much quieter and more subdued affair, even as the brass section kicks in. The next single will be If I’d Had Antlers, which features sawed and plucked violin melded to trademark awkward beats and a surprisingly delicate melody. Watch out for the animated video. Cats and Cats and Cats might be an acquired taste, but they’re wonderfully original and definitely a grower. Well worth checking out.
Our final performer was another late booking – Attila the Stockbroker, pint in hand, gave us some grand punk beat poetry. 60 years old and able to give any number of youngsters a run for their money. I’d like to see more of him one day.
And so ended my Tripod Stage musical line-up. And what a joy it was. Here’s hoping we can do as well next year…
On Sunday we lost a few and gained a few. Pete Lawrie called by with terrible hayfever to say he couldn’t sing for fear of losing his voice but kindly volunteered to perform at another Climate Camp benefit. Of course I made him stand in front of our banners so I could get a photo anyway.
Pete Lawrie.
Robinson just didn’t turn up. I missed a phone call whilst doing an impromptu Green Kite Midnight gig at the Greenpeace Stage, diagnosis which laughably requested that I get on the radios to sort out a vehicle escort to meet them from their Acoustic Stage gig (erm, information pills did you read any of my emails?) They then ignored all my later frantic calls. Professional. Still, they probably wouldn’t have had much of an audience, what with them clashing with that embarrassing worldcup football match and all.
I missed most of Pete the Temp but managed to catch him performing some fun mashed up covers dressed in a tutu from our grand raffle.
Lulu and the Lampshades decided to play at the last minute once their Glastonbury tickets were confirmed. Fronted by my former art editor, the super talented Luisa Gerstein, I am ashamed to say that this was the first time I had seen them perform live. I had previously only visited them on myspace, which really doesn’t do justice to their ace live performance. Playing on a variety of strange string instruments, an old typewriter and an assortment of pots, pans and donating buckets scoured from the Climate Camp kitchen, they were incredibly inventive.
Both myself and Luisa have camped extensively with Forest School Camps, and her glorious melodies reflect the mix of traditional English, Irish, Scottish and American Bluegrass music that we love to sing around campfires.
Lulu and the Lampshades ended on an acapella version of traditional gospel song You’re Gonna Miss Me When I’m Gone – here performed with just two of the band members and some old yoghurt pots (another trick I suspect she learnt around the campfire). A cult classic if ever I saw one – there are already multiple tributes on youtube.
Luisa’s best bit about playing the Tripod Stage: our make-shift drum-kit from the catering tent. Luisa’s best bit about Glastonbury this year: Sunday evening: Mountain Man in the Crow’s Nest followed by Dirty Projectors followed by Stevie Wonder; twas dreamy.
You can catch Lulu and the Lampshades at Bestival later this year.
Cats and Cats and Cats then borrowed a number of instruments from Lulu and the Lampshades to play another exclusive for the Tripod Stage, lead singer Ben George having come down from his parent’s pottery stand in the Green Fields to offer us the gig. Quite fortuitously Cats and Cats and Cats have their debut album If I’d Had An Atlas out next week, so we were treated to stripped down versions of a range of songs which I’ve since been able to listen to on record.
When and where was the album recorded?
If I’d Had An Atlas was recorded over 11 days in deepest darkest Wales (Giant Wafer Studios in the Brecon Beacons), it was great to be so far away from any bustling cities and we could really concentrate there. We also did some recordings of extra instruments (tuba, cello, accordion etc.) in Folkestone at Barewires Studios.
What inspired the name If I’d Had An Atlas?
The name is from a lyric in the title track which reads “I don’t know, if I’d had an atlas, where we would be,” which fell out of my brain at some point and I scribbled it down. I like the imagery of someone imagining that if they’d had a map they would have done things differently but of course there is no map and life is chaotic and that’s why it’s amazing.
What was the best bit about playing on the Tripod Stage?
I really enjoyed just turning up and using what instruments we could gather to piece together a set and then managing to pull it off! Thanks loads to Lulu and the Lampshades for lending us their equipment and also for being really brilliant. The only bad point was when I dedicated a song to my brother only to find he’d run off to watch Nora Jones!
What was your favourite part of Glastonbury this year?
I saw some of my favourite Glastonbury performances this year by bands like: Boxcar Aldous Huxley, Tubelord, the Dirty Projectors, Meursault and Imogen Heap; I was also gobsmacked at the lightning men and amounts of fire in Arcadia. But I have to say the weather, I was there for 8 days and I didn’t see a drop of rain. Amazing.
What other festivals are you playing at?
We’ve got a couple more lined up in July: Lounge on the Farm in Canterbury on Friday 9th (at 12pm) and 2000 Trees Festival in Cheltenham on Saturday 17th. Then we’ll be playing a farewell show for our violin player in London at some point as she’s leaving the band, but we’ll be back on the scene in October for a UK tour. Hopefully see you soon.
Ben has one of those voices that delights in the slightly out of the tune: it shouldn’t work but most of the time it somehow does: his wailing vocals become a feature in themselves, especially when offset against such a lush backdrop: brass, strings, entire orchestras, choirs, all have their place on this album – occasionally screeching to a standstill that echoes the offkilter vocals. It’s all great fun. Stand out single A Boy Called Haunts is a triumphant melody about… a boy who is trying to impress a girl, so he dresses up as a ghost on Halloween. Only trouble is that he then becomes a real ghost and discovers that she spends her free time having sex with men in porn films. As you do. Ben has been learning Japanese for 3 years so he decided to write a song in Japanese “half to see if I could and half to show off”.
Towards the end of the album curveball Suizokukanni works surprisingly well, even if the subject matter is equally bonkers. In it Ben’s fictional brother talks to the fish in the garden pond so he gets shunned. One day Ben hears the fish in the garden calling his name and realises he can talk to them. The last line roughly translates to “Lets go to the aquarium together and never return!”. This is followed by the beautiful The Smallest Song, a much quieter and more subdued affair, even as the brass section kicks in. The next single will be If I’d Had Antlers, which features sawed and plucked violin melded to trademark awkward beats and a surprisingly delicate melody. Watch out for the animated video. Cats and Cats and Cats might be an acquired taste, but they’re wonderfully original and definitely a grower. Well worth checking out.
Our final performer was another late booking – Attila the Stockbroker, pint in hand, gave us some grand punk beat poetry. 60 years old and able to give any number of youngsters a run for their money. I’d like to see more of him one day.
And so ended my Tripod Stage musical line-up. And what a joy it was. Here’s hoping we can do as well next year…
Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly. by June Chanpoomidole.
Our Saturday starter was none other than Sam Duckworth of Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly. who changed his stage time so that he could watch the ill-fated England match on Sunday. Those Climate Campers who knew him were suitably excited and soon stood on the corner of the Craft Field with the megaphone. It’s amazing what a big name does… the festival goers were soon flooding into our small area, page slightly disbelieving that our wee stage could be hosting such a well known musician.
Meanwhile I stood slightly panicked on the entrance as the minutes slowly ticked by… and then Sam came ambling down the leafy rise, slightly late having come straight from taking part in a debate about the rise of the BNP at the Leftfield Stage. A more mild mannered and charming young man you would be hard to come by, but Sam’s grasp of how important it is to speak out against the ills of this world is admirable. Without undue ceremony he was soon aboard the Tripod Stage, holding a borrowed acoustic guitar. “Can you all hear me? I’ve got a big voice so I can sing louder!”
Sunglassed against the blazing heat Sam sung new songs from his upcoming album alongside old crowd pleasers such as One More With Feeling. Unbidden he spoke with passion of meeting a Bangladeshi woman who had lost her family as a direct result of the effects of climate change, and how important it is to stand up to the big corporations. A truly special young man who has been off my radar for awhile, I now remember why I featured Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly. in Amelia’s Magazine all those years ago. What a star. Sam’s new single Collapsing Cities is out in August, followed by a 22 date tour in September and October.
Next up we had Kyla La Grange, a beautiful girl with a stunning voice (does it matter that she was beautiful? It shouldn’t, but she really was, what can I say? And talented…) She arrived without fanfare and I found her practicing behind our van on the same acoustic guitar that Sam had borrowed.
This was the first time in awhile that the husky voiced Kyla had played her songs without added production but she’s an accomplished songwriter and songs like the catchy single Vampire Smile worked just as well without backing. Definitely a talent to watch: her debut album is currently in production.
Kyla’s favourite bits of Glastonbury: Arcadia was absolutely brilliant but as far as performances go it was a tie between Laura Marling and Florence and the Machine. They were both faultless.
Patch William were another band we shared with the BBC Introducing stage (or should that be the other way around). They arrived complete with their own recording facilities, although I will hopefully attempt to cobble together some of the footage I shot myself (oh Final Cut Pro, how I yearn to learn your charms).
Fronted by William and his god sister Ali, Patch William braved the blazing heat dressed as if they had just stepped out of a fairytale, all flowing hair, wide trousers and Ali crowned in a flower garland so beloved of festival goers this year. Their melodic harmonies were perfect for a lazy summer day such as this, and culminated in the Ivor Novello nominated The Last Bus, a stunning song that saw Ali nimbly swap from guitar to cello. Just gorgeous.
Patch William liked playing the Tripod Stage because: It was great to be able to play a set which was powered solely by a solar panel! Patch William’s favourite bits of Glastonbury: Discovering a naked mermaid at Shangri La and being able to say ‘hello glastonbury’ during our set (something which we’d only dreamed of before).
Patch William play the Firefly Music Festival and Belladrum Festival in Scotland. Their next single release will be Skinny White Boy and they plan to go on tour in September. Watch their set at BBC Introducing here.
Then we were supposed to host The Federals, but unfortunately some misunderstood information meant that they hadn’t come prepared for our particular stage set up and all I got was this picture.
Oh well! You win some you lose some: they seemed like nice lads, and went on to play, yes, you’ve guessed it, the BBC Introducing stage. Instead we had a bit of a gap before an exclusive secret set from the wonderful Robin Ince… who turned up a good hour early so we all sat around having a cup of tea and a chinwag.
Robin was determined to perform his set back to front, so I would be introducing him after he’d finished, and Danny Chivers could come on as a warm up act at the end. This meant that Robin also started sat on the floor with his back to the audience. To another disbelieving crowd – “Yes, we really do have Robin Ince performing here in a minute” – Robin gave a brilliant performance that touched on themes of favourite suicides, the use of jazz hands in the popularisation of science and banality in politics.
I’ve uploaded part of his performance for your delection here:
At the end he called on me to come up and introduce him, but then carried on heckling me from the floor. Can anyone tell me, did he do his gig in the Comedy Tent during the England match on Sunday dressed as an octopus? Muchos love going out to you Robin.
Last but by no means least the Tripod Stage was delighted to host Dry the River, a folk band from East London attired in vaguely matched check shirts. Accompanied by guitar, bass, violin, glockenspiel and snare drum, Dry the River sing of history, culture, religion – often in gorgeous four part falsetto boy harmonies. Lead singer Peter Liddle studied anthropology and is now en route to become a doctor; a background that clearly informs his unusual lyrics. If there is any sense in this world Dry the River will be a major success: in fact if I were the betting kind I would lay the notes down hand over fist for this unsigned band. Really really brilliant, I feel so blessed to have found them.
I asked bearded bassist Scott to answer a few questions:
Scott’s feelings on the Tripod Stage gig: The Climate Camp Tripod Stage was awesome! We played as the sunshine beamed down on our faces, and the people around were so laid back and friendly. Plus we all got a cup of tea while we played which was like a dream after two days of camping. We even got a chance to road-test a new tune we’ve been working on because of the relaxed atmosphere of the show, and it went down well!
Scott’s favourite part of Glastonbury: It’s tough to pick a ‘best bit’ for the whole weekend but for me heading out to get lost in the maze of Shangri La at night was amazing, and bumping into Neville Staple backstage in the Dance Arena was pretty cool. Obviously the gigs we were able to play while we were there all stand out too, the Climate Camp for the friendly hospitable people there, the Crow’s Nest for the amazing view of the whole festival at sunset and of course the BBC Introducing set was just so exciting with the cameras and everything.
Make sure you catch up with Dry the River live – they’re playing Standon Calling, the Big Chill and Underground Festival in Gloucester. You can download a FREE 3 track EP from their myspace which includes an unreleased version of Coast, a never before heard track recorded earlier this summer. Dry the River headline the Lexington on September 30th and you can buy tickets here. In the meantime see them on BBC Introducing here.
What is the impact on our relationship with the environment – when existing in a world where sensor monitors constantly interpret our daily surroundings, producing endless streams of data? Are we moving into the final phrase of Walter Benjamin’s The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction?
Photograph by Ludwig Zeller
The Weather Camera is Kjen Wilkens response to her search for a human presence within this deluge of electronic readings. Instead of taking a photograph to a record a special moment, the user of The Weather Camera can record the atmospheric conditions, weaving these into autobiographical memory. In time encouraging new methods of narration, titled by the designer as “Sensor Poetics.”
Becky Pilditch‘s prothestics are “objects of empowerment”, showcasing how functional pieces of designs can be both a thing of beauty and an extension of the wearer’s personality. Becky worked and developed the project with Holly Franklin .
Hand 8 the final part of the project, played with ideas of gesture and personality by creating numerous arms that related to Holly’s actions as she spoke or moved around a space. A fantastic aspect of the website is the blog, which can be used by other prosthetic limb users to feed back directly to the project.
In the Animation section of the exhibition Lauri Warsta’s Traumdeutung awaited. A wonderful animation baring the hallmarks (whatever that may mean…) of a “documentary,” the calming, not too dissimilar to the 1940′s DONT PANIC! voiceover narrated the data currently available on the subject matter: The Global Reserves of Dreams. The beauty of the animation, being it contained the possibility, that it was entirely a dream.
The subtle block coloring of the animation maintained a ‘warmth’ more accustomed with hand drawn animation, that can sometimes be lost in 3D animation. This is an outcome of Warsta’s experiments in combining; “two extremes (3D and Handmade) clash and merge. For example, bringing the uncontrollable movement of real hand-held footage to an otherwise sterile computer animation”
Adnan Lalani‘s experiment with augmented reality catches the attention, through being something the viewer can interact with. The action of turning the Pop Up Book’s pages is suplimented by additional narration appearing on the screen placed directly behind the book and inline with the viewers eye.
Below is a video documenting the Pop Up Book’s Prototype. Earlier this week Adnan kindly took a few moments to explain the idea behind combining the narrative structure of a Pop Up Book with Augmented reality: “The pop-up book felt like a natural compliment to augmented reality. I was hoping to see how AR could be used in a more tactile, playful context… i.e. take something we already know and play with, and allow it to be enhanced with animation and digital interactivity.”
Eventually Adnan hopes that as we grow increasingly comfortable with the idea of Augmented Reality, ideas like the Pop Up book ” can allow a progression from the magical, novelty nature of AR, into more of a direct tool by which to communicate narratives and story telling”
The eye catching work of Design Interaction Graduate Louise O’Conner; used experimental dance to convey the movement of the smallest particles, for example: Atoms, in an attempt to connect us to movements that are beyond our physical awareness. Visit the exhibition to watch the film!
A particular lovely idea was the mapping out to scale, the measurements of the solar system along Kingsland High Street and up into Stamford Hill. Several shopkeepers were to host a planet…
Photography by Mark Henderson
You can find the map and information about the project here:
Katrin Baumgarten’s Aesthetics of Disgust explores humans’ relationship and our reactions; both emotional and physical to the things or materials which disgust us. Using inanimate objects all too often taken for granted, (i.e. Light Switches) Kartin added disturbing features such as goo or hair that moved as the light switch is pressed. By ‘touching’ us back, the presence of these inanimate objects is brought back to the forefront of our attention.
In the installation at the Royal College of Art a screen documents the level of the reaction of each user.
Another subject explored by Katrina is Intimate touch or sexual disgust and how these feelings can be created “merely by inappropriate behaviours in society, such as touching another person in an intimate or sexual way in public, even though that might comfort the two persons involved and is a part of our human nature.” The outcome of which is the Intimate Touch Object, an item which enables you to touch another person secretly…
FINALLY on my second trip (yes second, it’s that big and really worth the time) I came across the brilliant work of Sivaprakash Shanmugam’s Expressive Scribble. Children draw onto the projector screen (this could be the kitchen floor, wall etc…) and an bring their drawings to life by clicking the ‘movie’ button. The idea being to “enrich their visual vocabulary,” sense of narrative and most importantly encourage children’s creativity.
Part two of the RCA show continues until 4th July 2010. It’s open from 11-8 daily at the Royal College of Art, Kensington Gore, London SW7 2EU. Admission is free.
Images Courtesy of the Students and addition photographs by Sally Mumby-Croft
At the start of June I went on an exciting adventure to Ireland… on a borrowed bike from Velorution. It was a trip I’ve looked forward to for a long time because it combined two of my favourite things in the world. Or maybe three: Cycling (I love cycling A LOT), activism (we had a purpose) and being in lovely places with lovely people.
The Merthyr to Mayo bike ride was organised by a loose group of activists based around the country and included members of Bicycology, a cyclists’ collective who aim “to promote cycling and make links with wider issues of environmental and social responsibility”. This intrepid group of riders set off from the open cast coal mine at Merthyr Tydfil in Wales, armed only with an explanatory newspaper and lots of verve. The solidarity ride ended at Rossport in County Mayo, Ireland, thereby linking two communities who are resisting fossil fuel extraction, and educating other communities along the way.
Mini ceilidh en route in Wales.
An added bonus of this trip was the opportunity to play with my ceilidh band Green Kite Midnight, since providing music for people to dance to at protests is the very reason for our existence. Luckily our banjo player Dom has bought a big ambulance which he has lovingly converted into a tour bus for the band – and thus we set off for Ireland via Wales, stopping to spend the night at the parental house of our bassist Tim, way up in the secluded Welsh mountains. It was then onward to Holyhead, where we caught the ferry over to Dublin and carried straight onto Galway to meet the rest of the crew, who were hastily organising a demo against the atrocities against the flotilla bound for Gaza.
We marched straight into the local branch of M&S (to draw attention to the chain’s affiliation with the development of the Israeli state) much to the bemusement of Irish security guards, clearly not used to such confident behaviour. We then joined a gathering in the street organised by locals, but were eventually rained into the closest pub and from there we retired early to a friendly local’s house, quickly to sleep in preparation for our 90km ride the next day.
Awaiting news in the pub… many people knew activists on the flotilla.
We had been warned that Irish roads are quite dangerous and on our first day I did feel a little less than wholly safe, stuck on a narrow hard shoulder as – head down, legs pumping – we powered through the countryside with little more than a brief break for lunch in a small town.
The main thing I noticed about rural Ireland is the predominance of ugly newbuild housing estates. Boy do the Irish like to build some shoddy housing! The more upmarket modern houses favour the architecture of American TV series such as Dallas from the 80s – amusing for their kitsch value if nothing else – but at the bottom end of the spectrum the Barrett home style identikit boxes are nothing short of a blot on the landscape.
Endless housing estates.
Like many other economies the Irish housing boom was completely unsustainable, and speculative construction has given way to half-finished housing estates fronted by signs that looked spangly a few years ago, now peeling and faded.
Okay, so I was a bit worried about the length of our first day’s ride with no preliminary warm up – but I needn’t have been. With nothing but a vista of endless stone walls, housing estates and crumbling barns (the Irish prefer new builds to renovations, apparently) to distract us from our mission, our little affinity group was one of the first to arrive at our final destination – the Lidl carpark at Castlerea. Being rather fast and meeting at Lidl – these were both to become a bit of a theme…
Once everyone had arrived at we we were herded up the longest steepest hill I’ve ever tackled with such a heavy load… and this after a long hard day too. I stayed on my bike to the very top but boy was I glad that I hadn’t brought my Pashley – it never would have made it.
At the top our destination was a gorgeous stretch of land bordered by woods, owned by some friendly Pagans who greeted us with lentil stew brewed for us in a cauldron over the fire surrounded by medieval-style tents. Our two nights spent on the hill top were characterised by excessive amounts of midges and late night music sessions. The intervening day was spent at Castlerea Prison, which you can read about in my next blog here.
Written by Amelia Gregory on Friday July 2nd, 2010 7:55 pm
On Sunday we lost a few and gained a few. Pete Lawrie called by with terrible hayfever to say he couldn’t sing for fear of losing his voice but kindly volunteered to perform at another Climate Camp benefit. Of course I made him stand in front of our banners so I could get a photo anyway.
Pete Lawrie.
Robinson just didn’t turn up. I missed a phone call whilst doing an impromptu Green Kite Midnight gig at the Greenpeace Stage, nurse which laughably requested that I get on the radios to sort out a vehicle escort to meet them from their Acoustic Stage gig (erm, buy information pills did you read any of my emails?) They then ignored all my later frantic calls. Professional. Still, they probably wouldn’t have had much of an audience, what with them clashing with that embarrassing worldcup football match and all. I missed most of Pete the Temp but managed to catch him performing some fun mashed up covers dressed in a tutu from our grand raffle.
Lulu and the Lampshades decided to play at the last minute once their Glastonbury tickets were confirmed. Fronted by my former art editor, the super talented Luisa Gerstein, I am ashamed to say that this was the first time I had seen them perform live. I had previously only visited them on myspace, which really doesn’t do justice to their ace live performance. Playing on a variety of strange string instruments, an old typewriter and an assortment of pots, pans and donating buckets scoured from the Climate Camp kitchen, they were incredibly inventive.
Both myself and Luisa have camped extensively with Forest School Camps, and her glorious melodies reflect the mix of traditional English, Irish, Scottish and American Bluegrass music that we love to sing around campfires.
Lulu and the Lampshades ended on an acapella version of traditional gospel song You’re Gonna Miss Me When I’m Gone – here performed with just two of the band members and some old yoghurt pots (another trick I suspect she learnt around the campfire). A cult classic if ever I saw one – there are already multiple tributes on youtube.
Luisa’s best bit about playing the Tripod Stage: our make-shift drum-kit from the catering tent. Luisa’s best bit about Glastonbury this year: Sunday evening: Mountain Man in the Crow’s Nest followed by Dirty Projectors followed by Stevie Wonder; twas dreamy.
You can catch Lulu and the Lampshades at Bestival later this year.
Cats and Cats and Cats then borrowed a number of instruments from Lulu and the Lampshades to play another exclusive for the Tripod Stage, lead singer Ben George having come down from his parent’s pottery stand in the Green Fields to offer us the gig. Quite fortuitously Cats and Cats and Cats have their debut album If I’d Had An Atlas out this week, so we were treated to stripped down versions of a range of songs which I’ve since been able to listen to on record.
When and where was the album recorded?
If I’d Had An Atlas was recorded over 11 days in deepest darkest Wales (Giant Wafer Studios in the Brecon Beacons), it was great to be so far away from any bustling cities and we could really concentrate there. We also did some recordings of extra instruments (tuba, cello, accordion etc.) in Folkestone at Barewires Studios.
What inspired the name If I’d Had An Atlas?
The name is from a lyric in the title track which reads “I don’t know, if I’d had an atlas, where we would be,” which fell out of my brain at some point and I scribbled it down. I like the imagery of someone imagining that if they’d had a map they would have done things differently but of course there is no map and life is chaotic and that’s why it’s amazing.
What was the best bit about playing on the Tripod Stage?
I really enjoyed just turning up and using what instruments we could gather to piece together a set and then managing to pull it off! Thanks loads to Lulu and the Lampshades for lending us their equipment and also for being really brilliant. The only bad point was when I dedicated a song to my brother only to find he’d run off to watch Nora Jones!
What was your favourite part of Glastonbury this year?
I saw some of my favourite Glastonbury performances this year by bands like: Boxcar Aldous Huxley, Tubelord, The Dirty Projectors, Meursault and Imogen Heap; I was also gobsmacked at the lightning men and amounts of fire in Arcadia. But I have to say the weather, I was there for 8 days and I didn’t see a drop of rain. Amazing.
What other festivals are you playing at?
We’ve got a couple more lined up in July: Lounge on the Farm in Canterbury on Friday 9th (at 12pm) and 2000 Trees Festival in Cheltenham on Saturday 17th. Then we’ll be playing a farewell show for our violin player in London at some point as she’s leaving the band, but we’ll be back on the scene in October for a UK tour. Hopefully see you soon.
Ben has one of those voices that delights in the slightly out of the tune: it shouldn’t work, and sometimes it grates, but most of the time it somehow does: his wailing vocals become a feature in themselves, especially when offset against such a lush backdrop: brass, strings, entire orchestras, choirs, all of which have their place on this album – occasionally screeching to a standstill that echoes the offkilter vocals. It’s all great fun. Stand out single A Boy Called Haunts is a triumphant melody about
An acquired taste maybe, but wonderfully original and definitely a grower. Well worth checking out.
Our final performer was another late booking – Attila the Stockbroker, pint in hand, gave us some grand punk beat poetry. 60 years old and able to give any number of youngsters a run for their money. I’d like to see more of him one day.
And so ended my Tripod Stage musical line-up. And what a joy it was. Here’s hoping we can do as well next year…
On Sunday we lost a few and gained a few. Pete Lawrie called by with terrible hayfever to say he couldn’t sing for fear of losing his voice but kindly volunteered to perform at another Climate Camp benefit. Of course I made him stand in front of our banners so I could get a photo anyway.
Pete Lawrie.
Robinson just didn’t turn up. I missed a phone call whilst doing an impromptu Green Kite Midnight gig at the Greenpeace Stage, patient which laughably requested that I get on the radios to sort out a vehicle escort to meet them from their Acoustic Stage gig (erm, stomach did you read any of my emails?) They then ignored all my later frantic calls. Professional. Still, pharmacy they probably wouldn’t have had much of an audience, what with them clashing with that embarrassing worldcup football match and all.
I missed most of Pete the Temp but managed to catch him performing some fun mashed up covers dressed in a tutu from our grand raffle.
Lulu and the Lampshades decided to play at the last minute once their Glastonbury tickets were confirmed. Fronted by my former art editor, the super talented Luisa Gerstein, I am ashamed to say that this was the first time I had seen them perform live. I had previously only visited them on myspace, which really doesn’t do justice to their ace live performance. Playing on a variety of strange string instruments, an old typewriter and an assortment of pots, pans and donating buckets scoured from the Climate Camp kitchen, they were incredibly inventive.
Both myself and Luisa have camped extensively with Forest School Camps, and her glorious melodies reflect the mix of traditional English, Irish, Scottish and American Bluegrass music that we love to sing around campfires.
Lulu and the Lampshades ended on an acapella version of traditional gospel song You’re Gonna Miss Me When I’m Gone – here performed with just two of the band members and some old yoghurt pots (another trick I suspect she learnt around the campfire). A cult classic if ever I saw one – there are already multiple tributes on youtube.
Luisa’s best bit about playing the Tripod Stage: our make-shift drum-kit from the catering tent. Luisa’s best bit about Glastonbury this year: Sunday evening: Mountain Man in the Crow’s Nest followed by Dirty Projectors followed by Stevie Wonder; twas dreamy.
You can catch Lulu and the Lampshades at Bestival later this year.
Cats and Cats and Cats then borrowed a number of instruments from Lulu and the Lampshades to play another exclusive for the Tripod Stage, lead singer Ben George having come down from his parent’s pottery stand in the Green Fields to offer us the gig. Quite fortuitously Cats and Cats and Cats have their debut album If I’d Had An Atlas out this week, so we were treated to stripped down versions of a range of songs which I’ve since been able to listen to on record.
When and where was the album recorded?
If I’d Had An Atlas was recorded over 11 days in deepest darkest Wales (Giant Wafer Studios in the Brecon Beacons), it was great to be so far away from any bustling cities and we could really concentrate there. We also did some recordings of extra instruments (tuba, cello, accordion etc.) in Folkestone at Barewires Studios.
What inspired the name If I’d Had An Atlas?
The name is from a lyric in the title track which reads “I don’t know, if I’d had an atlas, where we would be,” which fell out of my brain at some point and I scribbled it down. I like the imagery of someone imagining that if they’d had a map they would have done things differently but of course there is no map and life is chaotic and that’s why it’s amazing.
What was the best bit about playing on the Tripod Stage?
I really enjoyed just turning up and using what instruments we could gather to piece together a set and then managing to pull it off! Thanks loads to Lulu and the Lampshades for lending us their equipment and also for being really brilliant. The only bad point was when I dedicated a song to my brother only to find he’d run off to watch Nora Jones!
What was your favourite part of Glastonbury this year?
I saw some of my favourite Glastonbury performances this year by bands like: Boxcar Aldous Huxley, Tubelord, the Dirty Projectors, Meursault and Imogen Heap; I was also gobsmacked at the lightning men and amounts of fire in Arcadia. But I have to say the weather, I was there for 8 days and I didn’t see a drop of rain. Amazing.
What other festivals are you playing at?
We’ve got a couple more lined up in July: Lounge on the Farm in Canterbury on Friday 9th (at 12pm) and 2000 Trees Festival in Cheltenham on Saturday 17th. Then we’ll be playing a farewell show for our violin player in London at some point as she’s leaving the band, but we’ll be back on the scene in October for a UK tour. Hopefully see you soon.
Ben has one of those voices that delights in the slightly out of the tune: it shouldn’t work, and sometimes it grates, but most of the time it somehow does: his wailing vocals become a feature in themselves, especially when offset against such a lush backdrop: brass, strings, entire orchestras, choirs, all of which have their place on this album – occasionally screeching to a standstill that echoes the offkilter vocals. It’s all great fun. Stand out single A Boy Called Haunts is a triumphant melody about
An acquired taste maybe, but wonderfully original and definitely a grower. Well worth checking out.
Our final performer was another late booking – Attila the Stockbroker, pint in hand, gave us some grand punk beat poetry. 60 years old and able to give any number of youngsters a run for their money. I’d like to see more of him one day.
And so ended my Tripod Stage musical line-up. And what a joy it was. Here’s hoping we can do as well next year…
On Sunday we lost a few and gained a few. Pete Lawrie called by with terrible hayfever to say he couldn’t sing for fear of losing his voice but kindly volunteered to perform at another Climate Camp benefit. Of course I made him stand in front of our banners so I could get a photo anyway.
Pete Lawrie.
Robinson just didn’t turn up. I missed a phone call whilst doing an impromptu Green Kite Midnight gig at the Greenpeace Stage, price which laughably requested that I get on the radios to sort out a vehicle escort to meet them from their Acoustic Stage gig (erm, did you read any of my emails?) They then ignored all my later frantic calls. Professional. Still, they probably wouldn’t have had much of an audience, what with them clashing with that embarrassing worldcup football match and all.
I missed most of Pete the Temp but managed to catch him performing some fun mashed up covers dressed in a tutu from our grand raffle.
Lulu and the Lampshades decided to play at the last minute once their Glastonbury tickets were confirmed. Fronted by my former art editor, the super talented Luisa Gerstein, I am ashamed to say that this was the first time I had seen them perform live. I had previously only visited them on myspace, which really doesn’t do justice to their ace live performance. Playing on a variety of strange string instruments, an old typewriter and an assortment of pots, pans and donating buckets scoured from the Climate Camp kitchen, they were incredibly inventive.
Both myself and Luisa have camped extensively with Forest School Camps, and her glorious melodies reflect the mix of traditional English, Irish, Scottish and American Bluegrass music that we love to sing around campfires.
Lulu and the Lampshades ended on an acapella version of traditional gospel song You’re Gonna Miss Me When I’m Gone – here performed with just two of the band members and some old yoghurt pots (another trick I suspect she learnt around the campfire). A cult classic if ever I saw one – there are already multiple tributes on youtube.
Luisa’s best bit about playing the Tripod Stage: our make-shift drum-kit from the catering tent. Luisa’s best bit about Glastonbury this year: Sunday evening: Mountain Man in the Crow’s Nest followed by Dirty Projectors followed by Stevie Wonder; twas dreamy.
You can catch Lulu and the Lampshades at Bestival later this year.
Cats and Cats and Cats then borrowed a number of instruments from Lulu and the Lampshades to play another exclusive for the Tripod Stage, lead singer Ben George having come down from his parent’s pottery stand in the Green Fields to offer us the gig. Quite fortuitously Cats and Cats and Cats have their debut album If I’d Had An Atlas out this week, so we were treated to stripped down versions of a range of songs which I’ve since been able to listen to on record.
When and where was the album recorded?
If I’d Had An Atlas was recorded over 11 days in deepest darkest Wales (Giant Wafer Studios in the Brecon Beacons), it was great to be so far away from any bustling cities and we could really concentrate there. We also did some recordings of extra instruments (tuba, cello, accordion etc.) in Folkestone at Barewires Studios.
What inspired the name If I’d Had An Atlas?
The name is from a lyric in the title track which reads “I don’t know, if I’d had an atlas, where we would be,” which fell out of my brain at some point and I scribbled it down. I like the imagery of someone imagining that if they’d had a map they would have done things differently but of course there is no map and life is chaotic and that’s why it’s amazing.
What was the best bit about playing on the Tripod Stage?
I really enjoyed just turning up and using what instruments we could gather to piece together a set and then managing to pull it off! Thanks loads to Lulu and the Lampshades for lending us their equipment and also for being really brilliant. The only bad point was when I dedicated a song to my brother only to find he’d run off to watch Nora Jones!
What was your favourite part of Glastonbury this year?
I saw some of my favourite Glastonbury performances this year by bands like: Boxcar Aldous Huxley, Tubelord, the Dirty Projectors, Meursault and Imogen Heap; I was also gobsmacked at the lightning men and amounts of fire in Arcadia. But I have to say the weather, I was there for 8 days and I didn’t see a drop of rain. Amazing.
What other festivals are you playing at?
We’ve got a couple more lined up in July: Lounge on the Farm in Canterbury on Friday 9th (at 12pm) and 2000 Trees Festival in Cheltenham on Saturday 17th. Then we’ll be playing a farewell show for our violin player in London at some point as she’s leaving the band, but we’ll be back on the scene in October for a UK tour. Hopefully see you soon.
Ben has one of those voices that delights in the slightly out of the tune: it shouldn’t work, and sometimes it grates, but most of the time it somehow does: his wailing vocals become a feature in themselves, especially when offset against such a lush backdrop: brass, strings, entire orchestras, choirs, all of which have their place on this album – occasionally screeching to a standstill that echoes the offkilter vocals. It’s all great fun. Stand out single A Boy Called Haunts is a triumphant melody about… a boy who is trying to impress a girl, so he dresses up as a ghost on Halloween. Only trouble is that he then becomes a real ghost and discovers that she spends her free time having sex with men in porn films. As you do. Ben has been learning Japanese for 3 years so he decided to write a song in Japanese “half to see if I could and half to show off”. Towards the end of the album curveball Suizokukanni works surprisingly well, even if the subject matter is equally bonkers. In it Ben’s fictional brother talks to the fish in the garden pond so he gets shunned. One day Ben hears the fish in the garden calling his name and realises he can talk to them. The last line roughly translates to “Lets go to the aquarium together and never return!”. This is followed by the beautiful The Smallest Song, a much quieter and more subdued affair, even as the brass section kicks in. The next single will be If I’d Had Antlers, which features sawed and plucked violin melded to off kilter beats and a surprisingly delicate melody. Watch out for the animated video. Cats and Cats and Cats might be an acquired taste, but they’re wonderfully original and definitely a grower. Well worth checking out.
Our final performer was another late booking – Attila the Stockbroker, pint in hand, gave us some grand punk beat poetry. 60 years old and able to give any number of youngsters a run for their money. I’d like to see more of him one day.
And so ended my Tripod Stage musical line-up. And what a joy it was. Here’s hoping we can do as well next year…
On Sunday we lost a few and gained a few. Pete Lawrie called by with terrible hayfever to say he couldn’t sing for fear of losing his voice but kindly volunteered to perform at another Climate Camp benefit. Of course I made him stand in front of our banners so I could get a photo anyway.
Pete Lawrie.
Robinson just didn’t turn up. I missed a phone call whilst doing an impromptu Green Kite Midnight gig at the Greenpeace Stage, there which laughably requested that I get on the radios to sort out a vehicle escort to meet them from their Acoustic Stage gig (erm, ailment did you read any of my emails?) They then ignored all my later frantic calls. Professional. Still, they probably wouldn’t have had much of an audience, what with them clashing with that embarrassing worldcup football match and all.
I missed most of Pete the Temp but managed to catch him performing some fun mashed up covers dressed in a tutu from our grand raffle.
Lulu and the Lampshades decided to play at the last minute once their Glastonbury tickets were confirmed. Fronted by my former art editor, the super talented Luisa Gerstein, I am ashamed to say that this was the first time I had seen them perform live. I had previously only visited them on myspace, which really doesn’t do justice to their ace live performance. Playing on a variety of strange string instruments, an old typewriter and an assortment of pots, pans and donating buckets scoured from the Climate Camp kitchen, they were incredibly inventive.
Both myself and Luisa have camped extensively with Forest School Camps, and her glorious melodies reflect the mix of traditional English, Irish, Scottish and American Bluegrass music that we love to sing around campfires.
Lulu and the Lampshades ended on an acapella version of traditional gospel song You’re Gonna Miss Me When I’m Gone – here performed with just two of the band members and some old yoghurt pots (another trick I suspect she learnt around the campfire). A cult classic if ever I saw one – there are already multiple tributes on youtube.
Luisa’s best bit about playing the Tripod Stage: our make-shift drum-kit from the catering tent. Luisa’s best bit about Glastonbury this year: Sunday evening: Mountain Man in the Crow’s Nest followed by Dirty Projectors followed by Stevie Wonder; twas dreamy.
You can catch Lulu and the Lampshades at Bestival later this year.
Cats and Cats and Cats then borrowed a number of instruments from Lulu and the Lampshades to play another exclusive for the Tripod Stage, lead singer Ben George having come down from his parent’s pottery stand in the Green Fields to offer us the gig. Quite fortuitously Cats and Cats and Cats have their debut album If I’d Had An Atlas out next week, so we were treated to stripped down versions of a range of songs which I’ve since been able to listen to on record.
When and where was the album recorded?
If I’d Had An Atlas was recorded over 11 days in deepest darkest Wales (Giant Wafer Studios in the Brecon Beacons), it was great to be so far away from any bustling cities and we could really concentrate there. We also did some recordings of extra instruments (tuba, cello, accordion etc.) in Folkestone at Barewires Studios.
What inspired the name If I’d Had An Atlas?
The name is from a lyric in the title track which reads “I don’t know, if I’d had an atlas, where we would be,” which fell out of my brain at some point and I scribbled it down. I like the imagery of someone imagining that if they’d had a map they would have done things differently but of course there is no map and life is chaotic and that’s why it’s amazing.
What was the best bit about playing on the Tripod Stage?
I really enjoyed just turning up and using what instruments we could gather to piece together a set and then managing to pull it off! Thanks loads to Lulu and the Lampshades for lending us their equipment and also for being really brilliant. The only bad point was when I dedicated a song to my brother only to find he’d run off to watch Nora Jones!
What was your favourite part of Glastonbury this year?
I saw some of my favourite Glastonbury performances this year by bands like: Boxcar Aldous Huxley, Tubelord, the Dirty Projectors, Meursault and Imogen Heap; I was also gobsmacked at the lightning men and amounts of fire in Arcadia. But I have to say the weather, I was there for 8 days and I didn’t see a drop of rain. Amazing.
What other festivals are you playing at?
We’ve got a couple more lined up in July: Lounge on the Farm in Canterbury on Friday 9th (at 12pm) and 2000 Trees Festival in Cheltenham on Saturday 17th. Then we’ll be playing a farewell show for our violin player in London at some point as she’s leaving the band, but we’ll be back on the scene in October for a UK tour. Hopefully see you soon.
Ben has one of those voices that delights in the slightly out of the tune: it shouldn’t work but most of the time it somehow does: his wailing vocals become a feature in themselves, especially when offset against such a lush backdrop: brass, strings, entire orchestras, choirs, all have their place on this album – occasionally screeching to a standstill that echoes the offkilter vocals. It’s all great fun. Stand out single A Boy Called Haunts is a triumphant melody about… a boy who is trying to impress a girl, so he dresses up as a ghost on Halloween. Only trouble is that he then becomes a real ghost and discovers that she spends her free time having sex with men in porn films. As you do. Ben has been learning Japanese for 3 years so he decided to write a song in Japanese “half to see if I could and half to show off”.
Towards the end of the album curveball Suizokukanni works surprisingly well, even if the subject matter is equally bonkers. In it Ben’s fictional brother talks to the fish in the garden pond so he gets shunned. One day Ben hears the fish in the garden calling his name and realises he can talk to them. The last line roughly translates to “Lets go to the aquarium together and never return!”. This is followed by the beautiful The Smallest Song, a much quieter and more subdued affair, even as the brass section kicks in. The next single will be If I’d Had Antlers, which features sawed and plucked violin melded to trademark awkward beats and a surprisingly delicate melody. Watch out for the animated video. Cats and Cats and Cats might be an acquired taste, but they’re wonderfully original and definitely a grower. Well worth checking out.
Our final performer was another late booking – Attila the Stockbroker, pint in hand, gave us some grand punk beat poetry. 60 years old and able to give any number of youngsters a run for their money. I’d like to see more of him one day.
And so ended my Tripod Stage musical line-up. And what a joy it was. Here’s hoping we can do as well next year…
On Sunday we lost a few and gained a few. Pete Lawrie called by with terrible hayfever to say he couldn’t sing for fear of losing his voice but kindly volunteered to perform at another Climate Camp benefit. Of course I made him stand in front of our banners so I could get a photo anyway.
Pete Lawrie.
Robinson just didn’t turn up. I missed a phone call whilst doing an impromptu Green Kite Midnight gig at the Greenpeace Stage, diagnosis which laughably requested that I get on the radios to sort out a vehicle escort to meet them from their Acoustic Stage gig (erm, information pills did you read any of my emails?) They then ignored all my later frantic calls. Professional. Still, they probably wouldn’t have had much of an audience, what with them clashing with that embarrassing worldcup football match and all.
I missed most of Pete the Temp but managed to catch him performing some fun mashed up covers dressed in a tutu from our grand raffle.
Lulu and the Lampshades decided to play at the last minute once their Glastonbury tickets were confirmed. Fronted by my former art editor, the super talented Luisa Gerstein, I am ashamed to say that this was the first time I had seen them perform live. I had previously only visited them on myspace, which really doesn’t do justice to their ace live performance. Playing on a variety of strange string instruments, an old typewriter and an assortment of pots, pans and donating buckets scoured from the Climate Camp kitchen, they were incredibly inventive.
Both myself and Luisa have camped extensively with Forest School Camps, and her glorious melodies reflect the mix of traditional English, Irish, Scottish and American Bluegrass music that we love to sing around campfires.
Lulu and the Lampshades ended on an acapella version of traditional gospel song You’re Gonna Miss Me When I’m Gone – here performed with just two of the band members and some old yoghurt pots (another trick I suspect she learnt around the campfire). A cult classic if ever I saw one – there are already multiple tributes on youtube.
Luisa’s best bit about playing the Tripod Stage: our make-shift drum-kit from the catering tent. Luisa’s best bit about Glastonbury this year: Sunday evening: Mountain Man in the Crow’s Nest followed by Dirty Projectors followed by Stevie Wonder; twas dreamy.
You can catch Lulu and the Lampshades at Bestival later this year.
Cats and Cats and Cats then borrowed a number of instruments from Lulu and the Lampshades to play another exclusive for the Tripod Stage, lead singer Ben George having come down from his parent’s pottery stand in the Green Fields to offer us the gig. Quite fortuitously Cats and Cats and Cats have their debut album If I’d Had An Atlas out next week, so we were treated to stripped down versions of a range of songs which I’ve since been able to listen to on record.
When and where was the album recorded?
If I’d Had An Atlas was recorded over 11 days in deepest darkest Wales (Giant Wafer Studios in the Brecon Beacons), it was great to be so far away from any bustling cities and we could really concentrate there. We also did some recordings of extra instruments (tuba, cello, accordion etc.) in Folkestone at Barewires Studios.
What inspired the name If I’d Had An Atlas?
The name is from a lyric in the title track which reads “I don’t know, if I’d had an atlas, where we would be,” which fell out of my brain at some point and I scribbled it down. I like the imagery of someone imagining that if they’d had a map they would have done things differently but of course there is no map and life is chaotic and that’s why it’s amazing.
What was the best bit about playing on the Tripod Stage?
I really enjoyed just turning up and using what instruments we could gather to piece together a set and then managing to pull it off! Thanks loads to Lulu and the Lampshades for lending us their equipment and also for being really brilliant. The only bad point was when I dedicated a song to my brother only to find he’d run off to watch Nora Jones!
What was your favourite part of Glastonbury this year?
I saw some of my favourite Glastonbury performances this year by bands like: Boxcar Aldous Huxley, Tubelord, the Dirty Projectors, Meursault and Imogen Heap; I was also gobsmacked at the lightning men and amounts of fire in Arcadia. But I have to say the weather, I was there for 8 days and I didn’t see a drop of rain. Amazing.
What other festivals are you playing at?
We’ve got a couple more lined up in July: Lounge on the Farm in Canterbury on Friday 9th (at 12pm) and 2000 Trees Festival in Cheltenham on Saturday 17th. Then we’ll be playing a farewell show for our violin player in London at some point as she’s leaving the band, but we’ll be back on the scene in October for a UK tour. Hopefully see you soon.
Ben has one of those voices that delights in the slightly out of the tune: it shouldn’t work but most of the time it somehow does: his wailing vocals become a feature in themselves, especially when offset against such a lush backdrop: brass, strings, entire orchestras, choirs, all have their place on this album – occasionally screeching to a standstill that echoes the offkilter vocals. It’s all great fun. Stand out single A Boy Called Haunts is a triumphant melody about… a boy who is trying to impress a girl, so he dresses up as a ghost on Halloween. Only trouble is that he then becomes a real ghost and discovers that she spends her free time having sex with men in porn films. As you do. Ben has been learning Japanese for 3 years so he decided to write a song in Japanese “half to see if I could and half to show off”.
Towards the end of the album curveball Suizokukanni works surprisingly well, even if the subject matter is equally bonkers. In it Ben’s fictional brother talks to the fish in the garden pond so he gets shunned. One day Ben hears the fish in the garden calling his name and realises he can talk to them. The last line roughly translates to “Lets go to the aquarium together and never return!”. This is followed by the beautiful The Smallest Song, a much quieter and more subdued affair, even as the brass section kicks in. The next single will be If I’d Had Antlers, which features sawed and plucked violin melded to trademark awkward beats and a surprisingly delicate melody. Watch out for the animated video. Cats and Cats and Cats might be an acquired taste, but they’re wonderfully original and definitely a grower. Well worth checking out.
Our final performer was another late booking – Attila the Stockbroker, pint in hand, gave us some grand punk beat poetry. 60 years old and able to give any number of youngsters a run for their money. I’d like to see more of him one day.
And so ended my Tripod Stage musical line-up. And what a joy it was. Here’s hoping we can do as well next year…
Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly. by June Chanpoomidole.
Our Saturday starter was none other than Sam Duckworth of Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly. who changed his stage time so that he could watch the ill-fated England match on Sunday. Those Climate Campers who knew him were suitably excited and soon stood on the corner of the Craft Field with the megaphone. It’s amazing what a big name does… the festival goers were soon flooding into our small area, page slightly disbelieving that our wee stage could be hosting such a well known musician.
Meanwhile I stood slightly panicked on the entrance as the minutes slowly ticked by… and then Sam came ambling down the leafy rise, slightly late having come straight from taking part in a debate about the rise of the BNP at the Leftfield Stage. A more mild mannered and charming young man you would be hard to come by, but Sam’s grasp of how important it is to speak out against the ills of this world is admirable. Without undue ceremony he was soon aboard the Tripod Stage, holding a borrowed acoustic guitar. “Can you all hear me? I’ve got a big voice so I can sing louder!”
Sunglassed against the blazing heat Sam sung new songs from his upcoming album alongside old crowd pleasers such as One More With Feeling. Unbidden he spoke with passion of meeting a Bangladeshi woman who had lost her family as a direct result of the effects of climate change, and how important it is to stand up to the big corporations. A truly special young man who has been off my radar for awhile, I now remember why I featured Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly. in Amelia’s Magazine all those years ago. What a star. Sam’s new single Collapsing Cities is out in August, followed by a 22 date tour in September and October.
Next up we had Kyla La Grange, a beautiful girl with a stunning voice (does it matter that she was beautiful? It shouldn’t, but she really was, what can I say? And talented…) She arrived without fanfare and I found her practicing behind our van on the same acoustic guitar that Sam had borrowed.
This was the first time in awhile that the husky voiced Kyla had played her songs without added production but she’s an accomplished songwriter and songs like the catchy single Vampire Smile worked just as well without backing. Definitely a talent to watch: her debut album is currently in production.
Kyla’s favourite bits of Glastonbury: Arcadia was absolutely brilliant but as far as performances go it was a tie between Laura Marling and Florence and the Machine. They were both faultless.
Patch William were another band we shared with the BBC Introducing stage (or should that be the other way around). They arrived complete with their own recording facilities, although I will hopefully attempt to cobble together some of the footage I shot myself (oh Final Cut Pro, how I yearn to learn your charms).
Fronted by William and his god sister Ali, Patch William braved the blazing heat dressed as if they had just stepped out of a fairytale, all flowing hair, wide trousers and Ali crowned in a flower garland so beloved of festival goers this year. Their melodic harmonies were perfect for a lazy summer day such as this, and culminated in the Ivor Novello nominated The Last Bus, a stunning song that saw Ali nimbly swap from guitar to cello. Just gorgeous.
Patch William liked playing the Tripod Stage because: It was great to be able to play a set which was powered solely by a solar panel! Patch William’s favourite bits of Glastonbury: Discovering a naked mermaid at Shangri La and being able to say ‘hello glastonbury’ during our set (something which we’d only dreamed of before).
Patch William play the Firefly Music Festival and Belladrum Festival in Scotland. Their next single release will be Skinny White Boy and they plan to go on tour in September. Watch their set at BBC Introducing here.
Then we were supposed to host The Federals, but unfortunately some misunderstood information meant that they hadn’t come prepared for our particular stage set up and all I got was this picture.
Oh well! You win some you lose some: they seemed like nice lads, and went on to play, yes, you’ve guessed it, the BBC Introducing stage. Instead we had a bit of a gap before an exclusive secret set from the wonderful Robin Ince… who turned up a good hour early so we all sat around having a cup of tea and a chinwag.
Robin was determined to perform his set back to front, so I would be introducing him after he’d finished, and Danny Chivers could come on as a warm up act at the end. This meant that Robin also started sat on the floor with his back to the audience. To another disbelieving crowd – “Yes, we really do have Robin Ince performing here in a minute” – Robin gave a brilliant performance that touched on themes of favourite suicides, the use of jazz hands in the popularisation of science and banality in politics.
I’ve uploaded part of his performance for your delection here:
At the end he called on me to come up and introduce him, but then carried on heckling me from the floor. Can anyone tell me, did he do his gig in the Comedy Tent during the England match on Sunday dressed as an octopus? Muchos love going out to you Robin.
Last but by no means least the Tripod Stage was delighted to host Dry the River, a folk band from East London attired in vaguely matched check shirts. Accompanied by guitar, bass, violin, glockenspiel and snare drum, Dry the River sing of history, culture, religion – often in gorgeous four part falsetto boy harmonies. Lead singer Peter Liddle studied anthropology and is now en route to become a doctor; a background that clearly informs his unusual lyrics. If there is any sense in this world Dry the River will be a major success: in fact if I were the betting kind I would lay the notes down hand over fist for this unsigned band. Really really brilliant, I feel so blessed to have found them.
I asked bearded bassist Scott to answer a few questions:
Scott’s feelings on the Tripod Stage gig: The Climate Camp Tripod Stage was awesome! We played as the sunshine beamed down on our faces, and the people around were so laid back and friendly. Plus we all got a cup of tea while we played which was like a dream after two days of camping. We even got a chance to road-test a new tune we’ve been working on because of the relaxed atmosphere of the show, and it went down well!
Scott’s favourite part of Glastonbury: It’s tough to pick a ‘best bit’ for the whole weekend but for me heading out to get lost in the maze of Shangri La at night was amazing, and bumping into Neville Staple backstage in the Dance Arena was pretty cool. Obviously the gigs we were able to play while we were there all stand out too, the Climate Camp for the friendly hospitable people there, the Crow’s Nest for the amazing view of the whole festival at sunset and of course the BBC Introducing set was just so exciting with the cameras and everything.
Make sure you catch up with Dry the River live – they’re playing Standon Calling, the Big Chill and Underground Festival in Gloucester. You can download a FREE 3 track EP from their myspace which includes an unreleased version of Coast, a never before heard track recorded earlier this summer. Dry the River headline the Lexington on September 30th and you can buy tickets here. In the meantime see them on BBC Introducing here.
What is the impact on our relationship with the environment – when existing in a world where sensor monitors constantly interpret our daily surroundings, producing endless streams of data? Are we moving into the final phrase of Walter Benjamin’s The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction?
Photograph by Ludwig Zeller
The Weather Camera is Kjen Wilkens response to her search for a human presence within this deluge of electronic readings. Instead of taking a photograph to a record a special moment, the user of The Weather Camera can record the atmospheric conditions, weaving these into autobiographical memory. In time encouraging new methods of narration, titled by the designer as “Sensor Poetics.”
Becky Pilditch‘s prothestics are “objects of empowerment”, showcasing how functional pieces of designs can be both a thing of beauty and an extension of the wearer’s personality. Becky worked and developed the project with Holly Franklin .
Hand 8 the final part of the project, played with ideas of gesture and personality by creating numerous arms that related to Holly’s actions as she spoke or moved around a space. A fantastic aspect of the website is the blog, which can be used by other prosthetic limb users to feed back directly to the project.
In the Animation section of the exhibition Lauri Warsta’s Traumdeutung awaited. A wonderful animation baring the hallmarks (whatever that may mean…) of a “documentary,” the calming, not too dissimilar to the 1940′s DONT PANIC! voiceover narrated the data currently available on the subject matter: The Global Reserves of Dreams. The beauty of the animation, being it contained the possibility, that it was entirely a dream.
The subtle block coloring of the animation maintained a ‘warmth’ more accustomed with hand drawn animation, that can sometimes be lost in 3D animation. This is an outcome of Warsta’s experiments in combining; “two extremes (3D and Handmade) clash and merge. For example, bringing the uncontrollable movement of real hand-held footage to an otherwise sterile computer animation”
Adnan Lalani‘s experiment with augmented reality catches the attention, through being something the viewer can interact with. The action of turning the Pop Up Book’s pages is suplimented by additional narration appearing on the screen placed directly behind the book and inline with the viewers eye.
Below is a video documenting the Pop Up Book’s Prototype. Earlier this week Adnan kindly took a few moments to explain the idea behind combining the narrative structure of a Pop Up Book with Augmented reality: “The pop-up book felt like a natural compliment to augmented reality. I was hoping to see how AR could be used in a more tactile, playful context… i.e. take something we already know and play with, and allow it to be enhanced with animation and digital interactivity.”
Eventually Adnan hopes that as we grow increasingly comfortable with the idea of Augmented Reality, ideas like the Pop Up book ” can allow a progression from the magical, novelty nature of AR, into more of a direct tool by which to communicate narratives and story telling”
The eye catching work of Design Interaction Graduate Louise O’Conner; used experimental dance to convey the movement of the smallest particles, for example: Atoms, in an attempt to connect us to movements that are beyond our physical awareness. Visit the exhibition to watch the film!
A particular lovely idea was the mapping out to scale, the measurements of the solar system along Kingsland High Street and up into Stamford Hill. Several shopkeepers were to host a planet…
Photography by Mark Henderson
You can find the map and information about the project here:
Katrin Baumgarten’s Aesthetics of Disgust explores humans’ relationship and our reactions; both emotional and physical to the things or materials which disgust us. Using inanimate objects all too often taken for granted, (i.e. Light Switches) Kartin added disturbing features such as goo or hair that moved as the light switch is pressed. By ‘touching’ us back, the presence of these inanimate objects is brought back to the forefront of our attention.
In the installation at the Royal College of Art a screen documents the level of the reaction of each user.
Another subject explored by Katrina is Intimate touch or sexual disgust and how these feelings can be created “merely by inappropriate behaviours in society, such as touching another person in an intimate or sexual way in public, even though that might comfort the two persons involved and is a part of our human nature.” The outcome of which is the Intimate Touch Object, an item which enables you to touch another person secretly…
FINALLY on my second trip (yes second, it’s that big and really worth the time) I came across the brilliant work of Sivaprakash Shanmugam’s Expressive Scribble. Children draw onto the projector screen (this could be the kitchen floor, wall etc…) and an bring their drawings to life by clicking the ‘movie’ button. The idea being to “enrich their visual vocabulary,” sense of narrative and most importantly encourage children’s creativity.
Part two of the RCA show continues until 4th July 2010. It’s open from 11-8 daily at the Royal College of Art, Kensington Gore, London SW7 2EU. Admission is free.
Images Courtesy of the Students and addition photographs by Sally Mumby-Croft
At the start of June I went on an exciting adventure to Ireland… on a borrowed bike from Velorution. It was a trip I’ve looked forward to for a long time because it combined two of my favourite things in the world. Or maybe three: Cycling (I love cycling A LOT), activism (we had a purpose) and being in lovely places with lovely people.
The Merthyr to Mayo bike ride was organised by a loose group of activists based around the country and included members of Bicycology, a cyclists’ collective who aim “to promote cycling and make links with wider issues of environmental and social responsibility”. This intrepid group of riders set off from the open cast coal mine at Merthyr Tydfil in Wales, armed only with an explanatory newspaper and lots of verve. The solidarity ride ended at Rossport in County Mayo, Ireland, thereby linking two communities who are resisting fossil fuel extraction, and educating other communities along the way.
Mini ceilidh en route in Wales.
An added bonus of this trip was the opportunity to play with my ceilidh band Green Kite Midnight, since providing music for people to dance to at protests is the very reason for our existence. Luckily our banjo player Dom has bought a big ambulance which he has lovingly converted into a tour bus for the band – and thus we set off for Ireland via Wales, stopping to spend the night at the parental house of our bassist Tim, way up in the secluded Welsh mountains. It was then onward to Holyhead, where we caught the ferry over to Dublin and carried straight onto Galway to meet the rest of the crew, who were hastily organising a demo against the atrocities against the flotilla bound for Gaza.
We marched straight into the local branch of M&S (to draw attention to the chain’s affiliation with the development of the Israeli state) much to the bemusement of Irish security guards, clearly not used to such confident behaviour. We then joined a gathering in the street organised by locals, but were eventually rained into the closest pub and from there we retired early to a friendly local’s house, quickly to sleep in preparation for our 90km ride the next day.
Awaiting news in the pub… many people knew activists on the flotilla.
We had been warned that Irish roads are quite dangerous and on our first day I did feel a little less than wholly safe, stuck on a narrow hard shoulder as – head down, legs pumping – we powered through the countryside with little more than a brief break for lunch in a small town.
The main thing I noticed about rural Ireland is the predominance of ugly newbuild housing estates. Boy do the Irish like to build some shoddy housing! The more upmarket modern houses favour the architecture of American TV series such as Dallas from the 80s – amusing for their kitsch value if nothing else – but at the bottom end of the spectrum the Barrett home style identikit boxes are nothing short of a blot on the landscape.
Endless housing estates.
Like many other economies the Irish housing boom was completely unsustainable, and speculative construction has given way to half-finished housing estates fronted by signs that looked spangly a few years ago, now peeling and faded.
Okay, so I was a bit worried about the length of our first day’s ride with no preliminary warm up – but I needn’t have been. With nothing but a vista of endless stone walls, housing estates and crumbling barns (the Irish prefer new builds to renovations, apparently) to distract us from our mission, our little affinity group was one of the first to arrive at our final destination – the Lidl carpark at Castlerea. Being rather fast and meeting at Lidl – these were both to become a bit of a theme…
Once everyone had arrived at we we were herded up the longest steepest hill I’ve ever tackled with such a heavy load… and this after a long hard day too. I stayed on my bike to the very top but boy was I glad that I hadn’t brought my Pashley – it never would have made it.
At the top our destination was a gorgeous stretch of land bordered by woods, owned by some friendly Pagans who greeted us with lentil stew brewed for us in a cauldron over the fire surrounded by medieval-style tents. Our two nights spent on the hill top were characterised by excessive amounts of midges and late night music sessions. The intervening day was spent at Castlerea Prison, which you can read about in my next blog here.
Written by Amelia Gregory on Friday July 2nd, 2010 7:55 pm
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.
Written by Amy Knight on Monday February 25th, 2008 6:04 pm
The violinist comes on stage. He’s very tall and his tailcoat, ask wide tie and long hair and mostasche are how I consider a more genteel England might be attired. He looks considerate and pensive in a poetic sense. The rest of the band come on stage. Then the two female singers who are Smoke Fairies quietly take their places at the front. They appear a little bashful, malady but they have determined stares as they attach their instruments and look out to the audience. Their small frowns and concentrated expressions make them appear like they have been thrust on stage and are finding themselves dazed by the lights. Starstruck by their situation. But also it feels like reassurance; the two, click dressed in black mini dresses, are focused and aware that they behold the potential to have an audience in the palm of their hand. They look out and they know that a mood can be changed by the unison of their voices. They’re not nervous. Because their music is blinding.
The sound starts and the voices are slow. The guitars are played, fingers flickering on the notes, dancing in small circles. The electric strums are perfectly matched with the violin. The drums are hit and the two voices are joined and that’s the moment. This time it came earlier than expected. Charlie and I look at each other. A translation says; ‘this is good, I’m glad we came to this one’. Then following this is a quizzical eyebrow raise from him; ‘do we have their cd?’, before he spins me round, grabs my waist (bit annoying) and moves to the music. We try and get as lost as possible, which hopefully leads to synchronized swaying. Occasionally I look at him with my eyes wide: ‘This is EPIC’ (over use of this word through eyes/speech, noted). Oh how I love the difference between playing something off the old Mac and seeing the scenes played live. Even though it is of course a joy to sit/wallow/cry/smile/dance to tracks at home, some acts are just SO much more incredible in real life form. Like Smoke Fairies.
I’m telling you when they play together live on stage, it feels, well… I will have to use a simile – here follows: You know that advert for Ireland, when the lady is singing in her Enya (is it her?) voice and the camera is sweeping over the ridiculously green fields and coastlines of Ireland? A bit cringe but you get the image, it feels like you are the sweeper – as in you are sweeping/flying over amazing landscapes. Possibly wearing some tweed, definitely a cape with a hood. The music is more The Cranberries than Enya, but the flying sensation fits.
They also have a hefty 90s twang. Reminding me of Alicia’s Attic and The Shakespeare Sisters (you must know Stay?) – a bit grungy but with a little folk and blues twist. Their name; ‘Smoke Fairies’, fits perfectly with their ethereal, rocky and fantastical sound. From interviews past, I read that it alludes to the summer mist that collects in the hedgerows of Sussex’s narrow lanes. Being a childhood Sussex girl myself, I know this mist well. The old railway tracks by my house are dusty aired heavens; the hours spent walking the lanes, their vision, scent, sound and feel make for ‘home’ in a snapshot. Jessica Davies and Katherine Blamire met at school in the fair county of Sussex. And (wisely) rather than 5ive, Wigfield etc. the pair preferred folk, classic rock and blues. So they got together and created their own sounds, moulding their preferences and harmonies. After school, they lived in New Orleans and Vancouver, before returning to go on tour with Brian Ferry in 2007. They have since received high acclaim from artists such as Richard Hawley and Jack White. The former took them on tour and the latter recording a single with the fairies.
Smoke Fairies live highlights for me were; Summer Fades, Gastown, Hotel Room and Strange Moon Rising. As they played their guitars, their concentration and dedication to each note was mesmerizing. Although they seemed a little distant between tracks at times, their music was confident and heavenly. I highly recommend you listen. Their album, Through Low Light and Trees is out now on V2.
Sea of Bees supported Smoke Fairies. As you may already know, I think Julie Ann Bee is superb. You can see from my review of her album, Song for The Ravens, available on Heavenly Recordings. Seeing her live, she was even more endearing than I had hoped. Somewhat of a contrast to Smoke Fairies’ mysterious mood, Julie broadly smiled and chatted between songs. She seemed really happy to be on stage, declaring her love for the South West’s cider and mentioning that since she was a child, she had in fact deeply wanted to be English. I got the impression that she yearned for this through the sugared lens of Mary Poppins, when she mentioned the singing dreampop, in the same way that we all live in castles and are close friends with Prince Harry. Not that England isn’t splendid. Regardless, when she talked of the Isle she sounded genuine and almost childlike. I get the impression that she has a very vivid imagination and a warm heart, perhaps under appreciated, but certainly obvious tonight. And in all her music of course.
Happily Julie’s singing on stage was as sweet as it is on her album, but with the high notes hitting the rooftops. Hearing her explain each song’s meaning was a delight not often had. And seeing her acting out the songs, her face frowning into the mid distance and then smiling… looking to the imaginary stars – made her album’s preconceived character a reality. Her feelings manifesting themselves in her music, she seems almost vulnerable, but utterly lovable.
She talks and sings of dreams and following them, of saying goodbye to past loves and the joy of friends. All that we can relate to, but that we could never articulate with such beautiful sounds as she does. As sugary as a sugar mouse, as heavenly as a glass of Peach Prosecco on a cloud. Song For The Ravens is out now on Heavenly Recordings.
See:
Written by Helen Martin on Friday February 4th, 2011 6:53 pm
Fionn Regan is a folk musician with the history that befits his heartfelt words. The son of musicians, buy information pills he grew up in the Ireland that we all hear of but never quite imagine exists: a rural idyll where a child could wander free and return home to the sounds of home made merriment. He left school young and took up a series of itinerant jobs whilst travelling around Ireland and the UK, order self educating himself in libraries. With the release of first album The End of History in 2006 he gained critical acclaim and a nomination for the Mercury Music Prize. His second album, The Shadow of An Empire, took a more experimental electro influenced turn, but for 100 Acres of Sycamore (released in August), he has returned to his roots.
100 Acres of Sycamore was written in Mallorca, where he stayed at the home of Anna Friel – invited after having met her by chance in Valencia. He was enchanted by the ancient setting and on his return recorded the entire album in seven days. It’s a deeply rich experience, made special by his use of language. Not for nothing is Fionn Regan an honorary member of the Trinity College Literary Society.
The video for 100 Acres of Sycamore was shot by music photographer Sebastien Dehesdin on Hampstead Heath.
