Name The Pet and Micron63 supply full-frontal, thisremedy hard-hitting electro vogueing tunage at Madame Jojos in Soho, cialis 40mg London. Madame Jojo’s, Brewer Street, Soho, London.
Name The Pet.
Tuesday 17th.
Betty Frances launches her spooky new bluesy folk EP at The Electroacoustic Club, with support from The Johnny Parry Trio. Get there by 8, though, to catch the amazing, 6’9”, delicate-fingered story-crooner The Black Maria Memorial Fund – this chap is a mild-mannered superhero of the first order. The Slaughtered Lamb 34-35 Great Sutton St, Barbican EC1V 0DX
The Black Maria Memorial Fund.
Televised Crimewave are playing an Instore at Pure Groove. 6-7 West Smithfield, London EC1A 9JX
Wednesday 18th.
The Long Lost play at Prick Your Finger on Wednesday 18th March at 7.30pm. A band on Ninja Tune that sound like Astrid Gilberto dropped into a bubblebath with Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy, Belle, and Sebastian. http://www.ninjatune.net/thelonglost – London, There is a password for the resourceful with pricked fingers. Prick Your Finger, 250 Globe Rd, Bethnal Green.
The Long Lost.
Thursday 19th.
Gold Teeth and Crystal Fighters, two bands from the Amelia’s Intray are sure to pack a lively night with afrobeat rubbing up against dark pervertronic shocks. The Paradise, 19 Kilburn Lane, Kensal Green W10 4AE
Friday 20th.
Sparks, the band that cannot die, will be fondling their keyboards for their hardcore devotee fanbase. Infiltrate, if you dare. Is Kentish Town big enough for the both of you? HMV Forum, 9 – 17 Highgate RD, Kentish Town
Meanwhile, Piano Magic perform their sugary wisdom. For fans of classically trained Warp records. Barden’s Boudoir, 36 Stoke Newington Rd, N16 7XJ
There’s also a warehouse party at the Busey Building.
133 Rye Lane, SE15
Piano Magic.
Saturday 21st.
Upload Alldayer Festival. Trek out to Grays, near Thurrock for a loutish slobfest hosted by Front magazine. Highpoint will probably be Kunt And The Gang with his Bontempi synthpop ditties about unspeakably rude things. Did you spill my pint? In a field.
A bit more relaxing and central, on the other hand, you could see Perunika performing their all-girl acapella Bulgarian Folk music. The Cross Kings, 126 York Way, King’s Cross N1 0AX.
Perunika
Sunday 22nd.
Nadja, Cappilary Action and DJs in your dream-local. Barden’s Boudoir, 36 Stoke Newington Rd, N16 7XJ.
Maybe I have become a bit blase after so much rushing, ask but for some reason the brilliantly termed “swoop” didn’t phase me. To the point that I decided that I had time to visit the G20 Meltdown goings on with a mere half hour to spare before the swoop at 12.30 on the 1st of April outside the European Climate Exchange. Attempting to locate the Climate Action march, viagra approved led by a green horse, approved I headed down Threadneedle Street towards the Bank of England. A friendly female officer ushered me onwards as I sauntered past police lines and I decided that there was no chance of a kettle here, at least not just yet. Ahead of me was the most amazingly constructed dead canary, held aloft to symbolize the death of Canary Wharf.
Increasingly aware of the clock ticking I darted further into the morass of people spilling into the junction from all sides, snapping as I went.
In ten minutes I was ready to leave, but by now the atmosphere had changed and the kettle was on. Trying my best not to panic I asked a second police officer if I could please please leave. To my utmost surprise – having ascertained that I was on my own —he let me past the cordon where other journalists had failed.
With minutes to spare I grabbed my bike and sped off to Bishopsgate, noting the preponderance of people with trays of food, backpacks, pop-up tents and even great wreaths of flowers en route, apparently unhassled by the police. The road seemed already closed to traffic, as if we were expected!
Suddenly there was a commotion at the north end of the street, and a flurry of people clustered together in the road. Someone yelled “not yet!” to which I retorted “too late!” I mean, once you’ve started pitching your tent on a major thoroughfare in central London you’re hardly going to stop politely and wait a minute more to meet GMT time are you?! The police tried half-heartedly to drag people off, as they hastily climbed inside their tents, with one joker popping out the top of his kids’ tent in full hunting gear.
By the time I had glanced up again the whole street was a bustle of people and tents as far as the eye could see. A Carbon Casino with ghetto blaster sound system was hoisted up onto a carefully scouted bus shelter.
Bunting was unfurled and strung up between lampposts, food was trundled in on trailers, a toilet gazebo hosting the compost loos arrived and a vegetable stall was set up beneath a banner emblazoned Farmers Markets Not Carbon Markets. Vivienne Westwood walked past. All so surreal, all so very good.
Gradually the infrastructure took shape, with a kitchen sited near the centre of the site and three separate workshop spaces successfully set up at intervals along the road.
Here people could learn everything from the latest climate science to effective self defence, and of course the more intricate ins and outs of Carbon Trading and why it is such a bad idea. Perhaps now would be a good time to mention more on why Climate Camp decided to focus on Carbon Trading.
Our previous targets have included Heathrow and Kingsnorth, where huge new projects will put in peril our ability to rapidly cut carbon as quickly as we need to if we are to keep Climate Change in check. The government and big business justify their plans for a third runway and a new coal fired power station with Carbon Trading, whereby carbon is bought and sold as if it were any other commodity. The trouble with this concept is that it encourages growth which is simply not possible if we are trying to cut carbon emissions, as any sane person realises.
So by picking out the European Climate Exchange (which is a worldwide hub for this activity) Climate Camp hoped to highlight a problem that very few people talk about. We chose to swoop on the day before the G20 because this meeting of leaders from the top 20 richest countries was intended to sort out the world’s financial problems. They intend to do this with the same failed economic system that has dreamt up Carbon Trading as a solution to Climate Change. By setting up Climate Camp at the heart of the problem we sent a clear signal to our leaders that we cannot continue putting our faith in the current financial system when it so clearly doesn’t work. Needless to say, the outcome of the G20 has been as ill-considered as expected.
Over $1 trillion dollars will be magiked out of thin air to push into our failing economic systems. Hurrah, all is well!
But back to the street that I so often cycle down, now so transformed. Guerilla gardeners wandered past with mini barrows of primula and spray cans in hand – a nod to the guerilla gardening movement which aims to reclaim our common land, planting useful plants on public spaces.
Ironically, April 1st was also the 360th anniversary – to the day – of the moment when the Diggers reclaimed Saint George’s Hill as common land, and on which they planted parsnips, carrots and beans. The area is now a gated community for the rich and a sad indictment of the way that land has been parcelled off for the elite across the world. We later sang, en masse, the famous Digger’s Song – A World Turned Upside Down, by Leon Rosselson.
The media centre was busy fielding journos, and a welcome group coalesced to meet and greet newcomers, which by now numbered many badly dressed down bankers who were easily spotted a mile off.
If you got closer they could generally be heard saying something moronic, but I think they found it hard to find fault with our actions and we may even have educated some of the more open-minded ones.
However, I think it’s worth noting the sad truth is that some people will never care about any issue unless it directly affects themselves or their family. Happy in their comfortable lives they remain content to consume far more than their fair share of resources, whilst others across the world starve because of their activities.
Faces were painted, samosas were sold, guitars were strummed. A giant game, an adaption of snakes and ladders – runways and windmills – was played, complete with oversize dice. The police seemed to be leaving us alone.
As the day wore on more and more people drifted in from the surrounding protests to see what was going on. On the northern perimeter the legal observers for Climate Camp got stuck in a strange sandwich between police lines and black block.
When I returned later the mood had altered dramatically – a group of 5-Rhythms dancers dressed in orange and gold had organised themselves into a self-named gold block. They were dancing frantically, periodically dragging others into their merriment, sweating in enlightened ecstasy.
Gingerbread bankers were handed out to passersby, and everywhere I looked people were sharing their food. I bumped into a bunch of schoolgirls still in uniform from the morning’s classes. One of them recognized me – I looked after her as a small child on a camp. Legal observers sat in a row sketching the police in front of them.
Occasionally I would bump into another Climate Camper from our London neighbourhood, looking similarly frazzled to how I was starting to feel. And I bumped into Robots in Disguise, and half of Tatty Devine.
The atmosphere was still up, jovial, but I was worried that my camera battery was getting low and decided to head home to download photos and recharge batteries before the mood changed, as I suspected it would when dusk fell. On my return twilight was approaching rapidly between the tower blocks and the atmosphere had turned still more carnivalesque, with people really getting into the stop-start nature of human powered bike pedal sound systems. Limboing was all the rage and some cheeky girls got on top of a police van to boogie.
Many more people were joining us from a day at work, but the police were also increasing rapidly in number as they were called off duty elsewhere. Suddenly (at about 7.30pm) and without warning, they pushed forcefully into the site from the south end, beating people out of their way as they did so with riot shields and battons, even as surprised protesters raised their hands in the air and chanted the now familiar refrain “this is not a riot.”
Up until now everything had seemed so relaxed, but I for one knew that it was only a matter of time before the police decided to use more force. They may have stood by mildly amused as we entertained and educated each other in the hot sunshine of the afternoon, but by nightfall it was clear that things were about to get significantly more messy. We were now in a kettle, with people unable to get in or out, a state that remained for the next 5 hours. Those who had just arrived were utterly bemused as to the reasons for this, but there wasn’t any reasoning to do. A big consensus meeting was held at the north end to decide what we should do, and hundreds of people took part in hand wiggling to confirm that they would be staying the night. (I had my doubts about this outcome – those there to party no doubt mistook the implications of this, ie. that it would mean standing our ground and keeping the police out, not more dancing and getting drunk.)
Now seemed a good time to hold the much hyped celidh, so I located our new Climate Camp celidh band, the Carbon Raiders, and we put into practice the music we’ve been practicing over the past few weeks. Soon enough there in front of me was the familiar sight of hundreds of smiling people dancing together.
We only managed to follow a few steps correctly, but it didn’t matter; freestyling joy was the order of the day. It was as if the lines of riot cops were a million miles away, rather than 2 metres over my shoulder. For awhile afterwards much carried on as before, with many enjoying the fluffy baked potatoes for tea that remained warm to the touch – despite having been cooked the day before – many in my very own oven.
Towards midnight many were getting anxious – they’d been planning to get home, to get to work the next day. We started to become aware that there were hundreds of people outside trying to get in and those sitting on the bus shelter could see people being violently beaten back from our perimeter.
It wasn’t until yesterday that I found out the full extent of the surrounding kettles – one friend was caught in a mini kettle of 25 people for 2 hours in a narrow and claustrophobic alley, some beaten to the ground before finally being released. Marina had come down from the Meltdown and, finding herself unable to get in set up camp in the middle of Broadgate with her kettle and teacups. She showed me the bruises from the police the next day – huge great welts down her arm, but she was proud that her fine china remained unscathed throughout the ordeal. Why were these people kept away from us? Many of my friends were unable to get into the camp, despite having travelled long distances to protest. Still others were trying to retrieve belongings left inside the camp, which have since vanished – the police sent in cleaning crews at the end that apparently sent everything straight to landfill. Is this lawful? To keep someone from their belongings and then consign them to oblivion?
Once the police had beaten everyone away from our perimeters they drafted in huge amounts of riot cops (10 deep in places) to drive us off the road. There was clearly no way they were going to let us stay there for the full 24 hours and risk having us block the road for another day of commuter traffic. I believe their orders were something along the lines of needing to keep the streets clear in case a world leader wanted to get past. Most people, tired and intimidated, left as soon as they were able to, with just a dedicated few left to guard the lines. The police surged forward with no advance warning once more, picking up and tossing carelessly aside our beloved Pedals bike powered sound system. A great cry of dismay went up from the crowd – this was willful destruction of property for no discernible reason.
Police, jaws set in aggressive grimaces, were flailing out at cowering protestors who sat on the floor with their hands in the air. Is this what democracy looks like? When the right to protest is treated with such disdain? Despite promises to the contrary, no attempt at communication was made. The same old story seems to be repeating itself time and time again.
As a camper climbed a traffic light to retrieve a banner I overheard a policeman sneering that he hoped he slipped and fell. Is this what we pay our taxes for? The police are not here to protect the interest of the ruling elite, they are here to facilitate lawful protest and protect the welfare of all citizens. Yet this attitude is sadly lacking. For every friendly humane copper there are 50 behind him or her who revel in the carnage that provoking a riot ensures.
My friend was snatched from the front line and so I retreated from my position inches from the police to retrieve his belongings and take them out to him. I was also concerned by this point about my camera being taken and the photos erased – there were already reports of this having happened to other photographers earlier in the day. It seemed increasingly obvious how things were going to end, and sure enough when I made it back around the block ten minutes later the street was clear, apart from a dreadful mess of abandoned tents and bedraggled bunting. It was very sad to see the state of the street, when Climate Camp is so committed to clearing up so that no trace remains. But what choice did we have? We just didn’t have the resources to clear up more than those individuals left behind could personally manage. We stuffed as much bunting as we could into a backpack and trundled home, feeling emotionally bruised and battered.
…But what a day! We swooped, we camped, and we raised the issue of Carbon Trading higher up the political agenda than it has ever been before. I feel certain that many people came away feeling much more empowered and assured that it is possible to create another world. Now we start work on ideas for the Climate Camp this summer, August 26th – September 2nd. Throughout 2009 we will be focusing on the failures of our current economic system, for the same principles of free markets cannot possibly save us from Climate Chaos. The only solution is to decrease consumption, increase efficiency, and find alternatives to fossil fuels, fast. Put the dates in your diary now. And follow us on the main Camp Twitter and Twitter for London-based campers.
Coming from a rural upbringing the staple jumble sale was as much engrained into the infrastructure of village life as the Women’s Institute’s flower arranging classes and the humble church cake sale. It sounds decidedly twee but I still recollect as if yesterday the village hall brimming with ornate table clothes, viagra approved wooden chairs, price the bric and brac stands, the tombola, the fairy cakes and the strangely gratifying musty scent of hand me downs.Alas since flying the nest from my pastoral abode in favour of the city hustle. I feared the modest jumble sale would be cast aside as a mere nostalgic whim I would recall fondly in childhood anecdotes .
However recently fortune led me to unearth a hidden organisation seeking to rekindle this quintessential past time. With the pretence of transforming the jumble sale into the new cultural phenomena, the group aptly entitled “jumble” have set up a monthly event at the Amersham Arms in the depths of New Cross, South London. Jumble has targeted their cliental with outstanding precision, supplying all any fashion-focused individual could ever ask for under one rooftop. Who could scorn at vintage clothing, crafts, records, bric and brac, alcohol and scrabble tournaments, oh and I nearly forgot the cakes! I hope I am not fuelling a stereotype but jumble appear to have catered for every kooky shopping habit of most 18-25 year olds.I am not ashamed to admit I fall right into that category myself!
The 300 capacity venue every month transforms into a sea of eager revellers on the prowl for bargains. Watching people transcend from idle window shoppers to style scavenging primitives is a rather refreshing change. With a bar to quench your thirst amidst your hunt jumble provide you all the sustenance you require for a healthy afternoon of hunting.
If the prospect of heading to the uncharted terrain of South London fills you with dread then never fear. If you’re Shoreditch born and bred you don’t have to egress the comfort zone. Emily Morris’s Extraordinary Dancing Bazaar is held at the Old Blue Last, however its on a sporadic basis so this is one you have to really keep your ears pricked up for. The former DJ at Ministry and Turnmills turns her hands to fashion in this hip haven on the second floor. Perfect for those fashion forerunners, but be warned this is not for the fainted hearted, expect some zany finds in this haunt.
There is also the Bi- annual jumble sale at the art gallery Studio 1-1, run by Uscha Pohl publisher and editor of the VERY style guide, a self professed “ store phobia” she hates the concept of hoarding. Artists use this as an outlet to shed everything from kooky furniture to vintage treasures and some odd bits and pieces thrown in their for good measure.
Unlike my school years of the 90′s we have now become akin to second hand clothing, society now fully embraces the jumble sale aesthetic. When I was in secondary school you would not only be scorned at but faced intolerable mockery if someone unearthed you bought from Oxfam. I was profusely laughed at once for giving out Oxfam christmas cards. But in my college years it was deemed highly innovative to shop in charity shops. Second hand clothing now symbolizes a complete rejection of the ubiquity of todays global fashion sphere. Now there is hierachical obscurity, style no longer denotes class it serves in conveying personality and not financial privilege. Even the vintage market is utterly oversaturated and so consciously scouted and merchandised the joy of unearthing a diamond is eradicated. The real exhilarant comes from resorting to our primitive psychological make up, our “hunter, gather” instinct. So go on get hunting those jumble sales and reel in some prize catches!
Written by Melodie Ash on Tuesday March 17th, 2009 6:15 pm
Monday 12th Jan
Starting today: The Voice and Nothing More is a week-long festival at the Slade Research Centre that explores the voice as both medium and subject matter in contemporary arts practices. Established artists and emerging talent will work with leading vocal performers in an exploration of the voice outside language. On Wednesday the festival culminates in a presentation of objects, pilulegeneric performances, order and installations that are open to the public. There will also be performances on Thursday and Friday from 6 pm.
Wednesday 14th Jan
Now in it’s 21st year, recipe the London Art Fair begins at the Design Centre in Islington. A hundred galleries are selected to show work from the last few hundred years. This immense exhibition will encompass sculpture, photography, prints, video and installation art. It ends on the 18th of January.
There is a talk this evening at the ICA entitled Can Art make us Happy? where artists Zoë Walker and Michael Pinsky explore the notions of art as a social cure-all in times of economic and social gloom.
A new solo show from Josephine Flynn begins today at Limoncello on Hoxton Square. The Mexican was bought off a patient who was in hospital with mental health problems. When the patient talked about The Mexican she described how the process of making him had helped her – ‘healing through making’ was how she put it.
Thursday 15th Jan
Feierabend is a collaborative installation between artists Francis Upritchard, Martino Gamper, and Karl Fritsche, bringing together a shared aesthetic in their distinctive approaches to jewellery, furniture design, and sculpture. The exhibition plays with the boundaries of art and real life – looking like a workshop abandoned at the end of a day’s work, or a sitting room left in abstracted dissary, it’s only inhabitants a set of sculpted figures who seem lost in their own meditations. Gimpel Fils opens a new photographic exhbition from Peter Lanyon and Emily-Jo Sargent, 100 Pictures of Coney Island.
The Asphalt World is a new solo show at Studio Voltaire from Simon Bedwell. Drip paintings are made from advertising posters in an ironic twist or corporate seduction.
Feierabend
Friday 16th
There are two exhibitions starting today at Wilkinson on Vyner Street. In Upper Gallery a, Episode III, Enjoy Poverty, is the second in a series of three films by Renzo Martens in which he raises issues surrounding contemporary image making, challenging ideas about the role of film makers and viewers in the construction of documentaries. In the Lower Gallery, there will be the fourth exhibiton from German artist, Silke Schatz. Through the conjunction of video, sculpture, drawing and found objects, Schahtz composes a personal portrait of the city of Agsburg.
Saturday 17th Jan
We featured David Cotterrell in issue ten, where in the picturesque surroundings of Tatton Park, he explained how his visit to Afghanistan, where he was invited by the Wellcome Trust, would be likely to have a lasting effect on his future work. Aesthetic Distance is David Cotterrell’s third solo exhibition with Danielle Arnaud, and focuses on the experiences and inevitable aftermath of a flight he took in November 2007 in a RAF C17, from Brize Norton to Kandahar. He was the sole passenger in a plane loaded with half a million rounds of palletised munitions and medical supplies to join Operation Herrick 7, a strange irony not lost on the artist.
To whomsoever concerned by the biggest threat faced by humanity today-that of climate change,
You are cordially invited to Dinner at Domestic Departures. Join us for an evening of peaceful civil(ised) disobedience ahead of the government’s decision over a third runway at Heathrow. Inspired by the actions of the suffragettes, we will be calling for DEEDS NOT WORDS. The government acknowledges the huge problems we face from Climate Change but they continue with business as usual. This jolly evening is intended to produce much-needed positive change and we do hope that you would join us.
Time: 7pm (when the string quartet plays their first note).
Dress Code: Edwardian Suffragette: high collars, long skirts, fitted jackets, puffed sleeves, think Mary Poppins. Sashes will be provided. * Although advisable, it is not compulsory to arrive in Edwardian dress, the most important thing is that you your friends and family join us for dinner. To add the element of surprise, it is suggested that you arrive in a large coat to conceal your costume until the stroke of 7.
Bring: Jam tarts, scones, cucumber sandwiches, hard-boiled eggs, tea cakes. Picnic blankets and table cloths. Tea and elderflower cordial. No alcohol please.
Entertainment: String quartet, art tricks from ArtPort, polite conversation.
We look forward to seeing you,
The Misbehaved Ladies from Climate Rush x
Tuesday 13th January, 6pm
Art, Activism and the legacy of Chico Mendes RSA
8 John Adam Street
London
WC2N 6EZ
Tonight will explore the ways in which the arts can help shift society’s attitudes in the face of unprecedented climate change. Elenira Mendes, daughter of environmental activist Chico Mendes, will talk alongside panelists Jonathan Dove (award-winning composer), Greenpeace’s senior climate adviser, Charlie Kronick and fasion designer and activist Dame Vivienne Westwood.
Wednesday 14th January
Wednesdays Do Matter InSpiral Lounge, 250 Camden High Street NW1 8QS
A night of music, comedy, poetry and film (and really good vegan smoothies!) in aid of global justice campaigners, the World Development Movement. Remind yourselves why everyday matters, even Wednesdays.
Winner of this year’s Grand Jury prize at Sundance and announced as a finalist in 2009 Accademy Awards for Best Documentary. This is one New Orleans’ resident’s depiction of the catastrophic tragedy of Hurricaine Katrina. Shot with a (shakily) handheld camera, Kimberely Roberts’ footage starts from the weekend before the hurricaine and covers a period of a year. Michael Moore collaborators Tia Lessin and Carl Deal edit and append the tapes with their own film of the post-Katrina clean-up effort.An astounding portrayal of resilience and bravery.
Showing at the ICA 12th-15th January
Turning The Season
at The Wapping Project
Wapping Hydraulic Power Station
Wapping Wall
London
E1W 3SG
Recent crisp bright skies have been a welcome respite from the usual drab January weather. But who knows what tomorrow may bring. Turning the Season explores the social and cultural phenomenon of the British Season. It would be fair to say that the increasingly visible effects of Climate Change have further fuelled our national fascination with the weather.
Expect 100 bird houses, a roof-top lily pond and a photo story showing the break-up of a relationship against the backdrop of seasonal events shot by fashion photographer Thomas Zanon-Larcher.
Although aimed at swarms of roaring key stage 3 schoolchildren as an educational piece on the issue of deforestation, this production from Palace People’s Projects is a true delight. Set in a traditional village in the Amazon that is eventually swayed by the ghost of Chico Mendes to not fall under the developers’ bulldozers. But not until some devastation has been wreaked first. A socio-political depiction of destruction of the Amazon with a mythical slant. All set to the music and dancing of Forro. An inventive stage (a mammoth man-made tree rather resembling an electrical pole, and pools of water seperating the audience) and brilliantly gaudy costumes by Gringo Cardia.
Seriously energetic post-punk, sequinned and LOUD live act Dead Kids headline. No matter what you think of them on record, they’re sure to grab you live. Continuing the infant name-theme, as well as the intense post-punk sounds are support O Children.
With the ever-winning combo of Japanese girl singing drummer (also to be found as frontwoman for London band Pre) and jangular guitars, this is your best bet for a trendy sceney night out in London.
Tuesday 13th January
Banjo or Freakout single launch party, White Heat @ Madame JoJos, London
Part of the new-wave of ultra-hip, genre-smashing music sweeping the artier corners of the globe at the moment. Should be a celebratory atmosphere as it is his single launch party.
Intimate solo acoustic performance of debut album First Love in full, ahead of its release in February.
Push, Astoria 2, London
A massive farewell party for the Astoria 2 which will be finally demolished on Friday. Catch Cajun Dance Party live as well as DJ sets from Mystery Jets, Lightspeed Champion, Good Shoes and Neon Gold among many others and mourn the demise of the sticky-floored dingy music venue in central London.
Friday 16th January
Cats in Paris, Brassica, Braindead Improv Ensemble, The Woe Betides, George Tavern, London
Massively hyped, bonkers 70s-ish glam-electro from Manchester.
Catch this 9 piece mini-orchestra, complete with mariachi brass, duelling drummers and girl-boy vocals, for their Ennio Morricone-style soundscapes.
I Love Boxie: a web-based business in London that tailors a t-shirt especially for you based on the story you tell them. The most astute of the fashion-conscious clan know that style should reflect your spirit and not merely robotic trends. In light of this; don’t wear your heart on your sleeve– instead wear it on a t-shirt; a Boxie t-shirt.
Here, cure founder of Boxie, troche Moxie shares her views on what fashion is truly about, how her brand works and what she hopes to achieve through her t-shirts:
Tell us the story of I Love Boxie.?
Each t-shirt tells a piece of the way – a place we have been, a person we have seen. We have many lines that fit many situations and could tell a piece of your story too. If not, we offer t-spoke. You call us, tell us a story and we turn it into a line on a t-shirt. We believe everyone in the world should have an unbranded, authentic tee that sings a line of where they have been and what they have seen. We are the opposite of any company who just put a logo on a t-shirt.
?Where does the inspiration for your t-shirts come from?
?From the people who write and call in everyday with their stories. The stories are wild, heartfelt, quiet, poignant and are better than anything we could make up.
What’s the idea behind the “half a conversation” concept?
If you think about branding for the last 30 years it’s been about distillation, reducing everything to a line eg: ‘just do it’ or ‘impossible is nothing’.
Our lines are about provoking expansion. It’s just the first line of the story, or the chapter heading. We want people to come up to someone wearing a Boxie tee – and go ‘wow, what the hell happened to you??’
?
Why do you make it purposefully hard for people to purchase your t-shirts, without contacting you directly first??
The tees are written about stupid, funny, weird, deep moments in people’s lives. All of them from the heart. They feel like they need more exchange than a credit card transaction. T-spoke especially. This is a creative collaboration that begins with the customer telling us their story. It is a strange and wonderful one off encounter between them and us. The t-shirt is their battle scar of that personal story.
Is all your business Internet based? ?
As far as being web based goes, our tees are obviously a form of self expression and there is no greater arena for that than the web. This taps into what a tee originally was – a piece of underwear, something that wasn’t supposed to be seen but kept close to the chest and hidden like a secret.
These days, the web is a place where secrets can step out of the shade, where people can talk about things they wouldn’t usually talk about in real life. Most times, you can learn more about someone from reading their status report than talking to them for an hour in reality, because the web has taught us the language of openness and sharing.
Boxie exists in the ether as part of that fluency. More importantly those web values – openness, sharing, community – are overflowing back into real life now. So, yes, soon we’ll be on the streets in some form, although the tees will never ever be in a retail space, hanging limply on a rack.
Your favourite Boxie T-Shirt to date??
So High and Solo
Any advice for the penniless fashionista?
Everything great creatively comes from being up against it and with no cash. You can’t ever see it when you’re in it but, as far as imagination goes, you are in an infinitely better position than someone with a million dollars. Do something great with this time. And then call us to get the t-shirt. ?
Advice for those wanting to purchase something Boxie??
Write to us directly at moxie@iloveboxie.com
New York is spawning many a catchy-tuned electro based band at the moment – meet The Discoghosts, more about firstly they have a brilliant name, look secondly, approved they do what they say on the tin, this is a disco fest. Their ethos is nicely summed up in their lyrics, “We love ladies and they love us, cos we’re cool and disco plus.”
Otherwise known as M-Boy and Tracky, they meant their album title – BAD – literally it seems, rather than a tribute to the King of 80′s pop, as they are apparently, “trying to break the taboos of “good” music, while playing with clichés of club sound like repetition, climax, stupidity, autofilter, and sound fetishism.” I see.
This album could be the OST to many an 80′s movie – it’s true, it may be the decade that taste forgot but it produced some pretty good tunes – there are obvious Ghostbusters references ie: track 2 being called Ghostbusters Busters and there’s also hints of the Beverley Hills Cop riffs in there, along with and slinky soul beats, electro voices, rubbish rapping and a guy that sounds suspiciously like the chef from South Park…
That’s not to say they’re stuck in the past, their mellower synthetic beats, such as Jellyfish, track 9, have a Hot Chip vibe and that’s not a bad thing at all.
If their aim was to produce an awful album – they failed, maybe it’s just that I have a soft spot/great love for the 80′s but I very much enjoyed this, catchy, listenable songs that don’t take themselves seriously. My favourite line, from Straight but Gayish (sung by a high electro voice), “your boyfriend’s hetro but he looks homo.”
And they dress like this to perform:
How could you not love them?
It was legitimate for us to feel nervous. With indiscreet bullying from BAA and no knowledge as to how the police were planning to receive us, sick we tucked our dresses beneath our over-coats and shuffled through the throngs of intimidating fluorescent jackets at Heathrow Departures, illness passports at the ready and an impromptu conversation about flight times – very subtle. I wish I could have seen the briefing, look out for pretty girls in dresses and large jackets.
Once in, all subtleties were abandoned, a charming sight when the order of the day was Edwardian dress and dinner, an evening of very civil (ised) disobedience. Instruments, top hats, high collars and puffy sleeves – all were revealed as the clock struck seven, the string quartet took to its first note and picnic blankets were unfurled for the beginning of the Climate Rush organized party, Dinner at Domestic Departures.
Music played, food passed cordially from plate to plate, and sashes were handed out. It was not long before currents rippled through the crowd into cheers, claps, and chants, “Deeds Not Words”, “Trains not Planes” and, “No Third Runway”, with a contingency singing to the tune of 90′s classic There’s no Limit. The complete transformation of Zone C was helped along by Artport, a collective of artists working in collaboration with Cilimate Rush to redefine the space as we know it. Green all-in-one clad waiters weaved through the crowd with a planet for a cake and planes for spoons, whilst a parachute game bounced a blow-up earth from edge to edge.
In amidst this electric and elevating atmosphere, it was a spectacular delivery of a serious message. Climate Change is a very real threat and many people feel let down by the powers that be to address this threat.
We don’t want a third runway and call for cheaper train fares and better transport hubs instead of domestic short-haul flights. It is of course just part of a bigger picture: the greater threat of Climate Change of which aviation expansion is just a part, and the wider feelings of concern and dissatisfaction amongst citizens for whom civil disobedience is also, just a part.
Describing herself as an ex-Camden townie, link the self-taught illustrator, Zarina Liew, has thrown her arms up at the big smoke and a career in marketing; and has chosen instead the serenity of the Cambridgeshire countryside, pencils, watercolours, and strange lonely creatures ridden by lust and self-ruin.
Her Hunter Series, eight inked paintings which exhibited at the Shoreditch Shuffle Festival, started life as a 24-page graphic novel. It tells the story of a gramaphone and a lonely creature, who forms an unlikely friendship with three musicians. She is driven by a need for company and music, they are captured by her beauty and seduced by her authority. The musicians fall into her charm and into her gramophone where they are trapped and eventually perish, singing songs of solidarity and love.
Over a virtual cup if Green Tea, we ask Liew a bit more about her curious creatures of emotional turmoil, her illustrative inspiration and whether or not she misses Camden.
Tell us about the Hunter Series.
I wanted The Hunter Series to be an extension of the original story both visually and metaphorically – a story within a story. You get a sense of the narrative from the different pieces, but as a whole, you see the Hunter for who she is – a hungry, lonely and melancholic being. It’s an illustration of lust and self-ruin; both the musicians and the Hunter are acting on impulse, blind to their terrible fates. Even though she is the one to end the men’s lives, the Hunter does not get what she wants. With no one to listen or play with, she’s alone again.
Where do you draw information for your characters from?
I draw most of my information from observing the people around me. I never assume that what you see in someone is what you get – everyone has a hidden interior of ambition and desire. Music plays a large part as well. I found the musicians for The Hunter listening to an unsigned band playing at the Dublin Castle in Camden – the Parallel Animals. After falling in love with them – and the front man! – I offered to sketch them during rehearsals and help out at their gigs. Seeing how hard local bands work at this music business, and how ruthless the whole industry is, gave me a sense of direction in depicting the musician’s fate in my artwork.
The emotional context of the characters is strong; the nature of lust and self-ruin… is this an expression of your own emotional turmoil?
I suppose yes – in a sense that all of my work is an expression of myself, my feelings and thoughts. I wouldn’t say that I am strongly affected by the nature of lust and self-ruin though, let’s just say that I am extremely aware of it in myself, and all too conscious of letting myself go, or losing control of who I am. As I mentioned earlier we all have a hidden interior of ambition and desire – acting on lust however (whatever the desire – money, sex, fame) can only lead to self-ruin. Sometimes I wonder if I’m making the right choices, I question why I did certain things and what is behind my motivations. It’s a constant cycle of self-reflection.
And finally, Camden vs Cambridge countryside… who wins?
This is a real toughie. Can I be wayward and say that weekdays are for Camden and weekends are for Cambridge?
During the week I get a lot of inspiration from the Camden kids, lovely hidden-away galleries and sweaty underpriced indie nights. By the weekend though it’s full of puffy tourists and very long queues for nothing.
That’s when I retreat to the gentle Cambridge countryside. It’s perfect for lethargic country strolls and relaxing afternoon teas; this is also where I get a lot of my inspiration down onto paper and start to paint. All the week’s bustle leaves my mind ready to draw in peace and quiet!
You can see more of her work here, or catch her at the Alternative Press Fair on Sunday 1st February where she will be featuring the Hunter Storybook alongside other homemade creations, and apparently, lots of Green Tea.
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Why is it no-one tells you that when you leave uni, approved your life will have a huge vacuum and those 3 years you spent studying illustration suddenly seem wasted when all the available jobs are in call centres? What to do? Give up the creative dream? Not if you’re Brighton girl Anna Wenger. She decided that if there was no jobs out there, adiposity she’d start her own business, viagra dosage and Sacred Stitches was born. Her idea of stitching classic tattoo designs onto clothes and homewares has really taken off in recent months, and she’s kindly chatted to us about it:
How did your business come about?
I needed to give my family and friends Christmas presents but without spending much money, so made everyone cushions. I got a lot of attention from these cushions and created more and more and now embroider onto everything I can lay my hands on!
Who are your favourite designers?
I love Angelique Houtkamp, her work mixes classic tattoo imagery with Hollywood romance and her eye for style is very inspirational.
Others include Inka Tattooist James Robinson, Alex Binnie, Jon Burgerman, Tara McPherson and Crush Design Studio.
How would you describe your personal style?
A very modern graphic twist on an old school tattoo style. I like to think that with my designs everyone can appreciate the art form of tattoos without having to get one.
Do you wear your own designs?
Oh yes, and so does my boyfriend, his friends, my flatmates. My flat is completely covered in sacred stitches cushions!
Who or what inspires you? (i know the obvious answer here is tattoos –
but if there’s anything else!)
I live with a tattooist who influences my work; magazines and art exhibitions are good for getting new ideas. My boyfriend and friends are covered in tattoos and will come home with a new piece of art on their skin, so its hard not to be inspired when your surrounded by moving artwork.
Have you got any tattoos?
No, the design is still in progress.
Do you have a favourite tattoo design / what’s the best you’ve seen so
far?
My favourite so far is by Judd Ripley of an amazingly haunting pirate ship. (pictured below)
Do you still love Brighton/can you see yourself living anywhere else?
I am originally from Brighton and moved back here after University, as it’s a creative city. I do love Brighton as it’s a very receptive place for my designs because people here like to buy from small businesses.
Can I have a t-shirt please?
Yes, what size are you, xxl?!?
How very dare you. A medium at the very most!
Thanks for your time Anna. Talent and ambition, the best combination.
Contact Anna about getting hold of your own personalised tattoo(ed piece of clothing) here.
So it may have looked like I was deserting my post last week, cheap swanning off to Paris to slide down hills on the ice and hibernate in nice restaurants. However, whilst my trip may have involved quite a lot of that sort of fun, I was not just being a bone-idle holiday-monger. Au contraire. I also had my ears opened to some great new music and had this excellent first EP by Hold Your Horses! thrust into my sweaty and eager palms (fine it was in a nice restaurant that this transaction took place but we were just following the model of most international business).
Most recent French bands seem either to do an excellent line in electronica or a terrible one in punk rock – you just can’t do attitude if your beige converse match your cashmere v-neck and your hair is cleaner and shinier than a Pantene advert. Hold Your Horses! have most in common with the second school, essentially a guitar band augmented with some strings and wind. However, perhaps the fact that they are a motley crew of diplobrats and true Frenchies contributes to the broader and more interesting range of influences discernible in their music. Sure, The Strokes are probably in every single member of the band’s record collection and at moments on this record, if you were to replace singer Flo’s Chrissie Hinde delivery with a Casablancas drawl, you would be forgiven for thinking you’d stepped back to Strokes-fever 2003, but this is really just what provides the catchy backbone of these songs. There’s a pleasantly shambolic tone – perhaps a little too shambolic at times due to the slightly rough-around-the-edges self-done mix – and when the boy vocals kick in partway through track two, a vaguely Celtic edge emerges.
Opener Cigarettes and Lies, the strongest song on the record, fanfares its arrival with a blast of trumpets before launching into a danceable meditation on youthful lust and confusion. After that, the titles get longer and the violins more prominent as they have a bit of an Irish-ska moment (fine that’s not like, an official genre but listen and you’ll know what I mean) before ending on the sultry Argue and the sweet Flo’s Folk. Although not perfect or polished, this EP is really promising and tips HYH! as a band it’s definitely worth catching live when they hopefully make it to this side of the Channel.
Now you see him now you…hang on, search is that? Yep a giant bunny in a smoking jacket who is theatrically drawing my portrait and grimacing at the fur collar of the girl standing next to me. ‘It’s mink!’ she frantically mimes through Wieden & Kennedy’s shop window on Hanbury Street. ‘Minks are bastards’ he mouths back.
I’m witnessing some of the day-to-day activity taking place outside Imaginary Friends, medicine a rather bizarre shop front exhibition that takes me back to long days spent in the airing cupboard as an only child. Back then, store my imaginary friend was a replica of the devilish dog that encouraged Tintin’s canine companion Snowy to do naughty things (don’t worry, no one else understood that either).
From now until Sunday your imagination takes the form of a wine glugging, abusive life size bunny rabbit (aka recent Central St. Martin’s graduate Jack Bishop).
I managed to catch him on a carrot break.
LJ: I say ‘carrot’ you say?
IF: Parrot? Ok it is the main component of one’s diet but I much prefer Beef Wellington. I shall not be marginalised.
L.J. Can you be taken for walks?
I.F. Of course I can darling. I’m imaginary after all, I can go anywhere you chose. Usually down the local.
L.J. Do you get along with cats?
I.F. So-so. We have a mutual respect for one another.
L.J. Do you breed well with Holland Lops?
I.F. Most definitely. Although my ideal breeding partner would have to be Jessica Rabbit.
L.J. Of course what a babe, got any celebrity bunny mates or rabbits in high hutches?
I.F. Well Harvey is a dear friend as we’re very alike. I used to be drinking buddies with Bugs but…(he drifts) he said a few things about me…said I drank too much. Lightweight.
L.J. Oh dear, well hopefully you’ll settle your differences over a good carrot or a nice seed selection. What are your thoughts on the following high-profile bunnies?
L.J. Peter Rabbit?
I.F. Wet lad.
L.J. Easter Bunny?
I.F. Fatty boy (all that chocolate).
L.J. Energizer Bunny?
I.F. Nympho.
L.J. Thumper?
I.F. Good Kid.
L.J. Nesquick Bunny?
I.F. He’s sold out. Such a shame. Corporate bastard now.
L.J. Got any plans for Easter?
I.F. (He humphs dismissively) I’m not the religious type. I’ll most probably be alone listening to Smokey Robinson and Sam Cook, drinking fine wines.
L.J. That sounds fun, I’ll be your friend if you want.
I.F. You fool! I can’t chose to be someone’s friend, I’m imaginary, they decide what I am to them, it’s annoying. Sometimes I feel degraded. I’d much rather be on my own.
With that he lolloped back down Brick Lane.
CarrotMobbing! No it’s not a bunny invasion in the run up to Easter, sick it’s the new consumerist activism from San Francisco. The idea is to sway more businesses to adopt greener habits. An alternative to boycotting, more aboutCarrotMobbing operates in a way that appeals to businesses by offering cash rewards.
In return for a percentage of a day’s takings to be spent on environmentally-friendly practises (e.g. better energy-efficient appliances, organic produce) a CarrotMob will descend on the establishment on a certain day and spend, spend, spend.
It is the brainchild of American environmentalist Brent Schulkin and it is unique in working alongside businesses that could be greener by offering them the ‘carrot’, as opposed to the ‘stick’ approach of boycotting or picketing.’We recognize that corporations must keep profit as their top priority.Historically, this fact has meant that the environment has suffered. We hope to change that by putting rewards in place that will make environmental responsibility the more profitable choice.’
The concept has already started to make an impact over here. The first UK Carrotmob was in September 2008 at the Redchurch bar in East London and since then carrotmobs have sprung up around the country including the restaurant La Ruca in Bristol.
When I proposed the idea to local cafe Yummy’s, Jason and his brother were really keen! Stay tuned for an Amelia’s Magazine CarrotMob expected to take place in a couple of weeks time.
Bristol’s Thekla is a down-with-the-kids venue by anyone’s standards. The ship is moored in a floating harbour, approved featured in Skins, shop has been played by Massive Attack and was once graffitied by Banksy. To see a band there tipped as number two in the BBC’s ‘ones to watch 2009′ is incredible. White Lies quite literally rock the boat.
Anticipation crackles in the air before they mount the stage. I’d fallen deeply in love with the singles months before: deathly, desperate melodies with the lyrics of a romantic poet born in the 80s set to gut-grinding electronica. And I’m praying they won’t let me down. In a swell of turbulence, the band storm on with Unfinished Business liquefying into To Lose My Life. Later, Farewell to the Fairground also stands out as a stark winner, perhaps a forthcoming single?
Harry McVeigh haunts his audience, both in voice and form. Recalling the two great Ian’s of post-punk, McCulloch and Curtis, he’s skinny with a voice that’s anything but. Glimpse him between the strobe lights and he’s a beautiful alien visitor. And the possessor of a truly spectral set of vocal chords.
Through White Lies’ unique ability to craft tangibly spooky scenes with their lyrics, as each new song rumbles into being, I’m by turns walking in an abandoned fairground at night, taking off in an aeroplane, wrestling a ghost in a dream. Captivating. Sound groans in the iron belly of the ship, the guitar rips through thundering drums and Harry wails into the watery deep. There’s no banter, no real movement and yet everyone’s rapt because they’re witnessing something really special.
A few technical hitches mar the proceedings and drown out the vocals, but not to worry, the finale is Death and we’re all singing along. White Lies have mesmerized their crowd good and proper and we pursue them from the boat like crazed rats into the night. Drunken fan’s yelps of ‘yes this fear’s got a hold on meeee’ follow me all along the dark waterfront home.
It’s half way through January – a long way from pay day and you want some new clothes. It’s the only thing that can cheer you up in this depressing month. Visiting an actual shop is out of the question, decease you can barely afford the bus fare there, visit this let alone any of the goods for sale inside the shop.
So here’s an idea – acquiring new clothes without having to actually spend a penny (on the clothes) – via the medium of clothes swapping.
This can be done in many ways, buy more about the first is attending this event:
However, if the idea of not having complete control over what you actually end up with isn’t exactly what you had in mind, then try this, a swishing event – yes it is £5 entry but for countless amounts of clothes, well worth it. It’s a similar idea to the flyered event above but you can choose what you pick.
If you don’t fancy actually leaving your house, then Bigwardrobe.com is an online swapping platform which is similar to e-bay in that you put your unwanted clothes online and people buy them off you – it’s better than eBay as it has a swap function and it gets even better than that! – you can get actual cash for your unwanted xmas goodies or fashion mistakes of the past. You can use a combination of money and swapping to barter for goods, eg:, “ I’ll give you this blouse and £3 for your skirt,” or something along those lines.
In these lean times, clothes recycling is the best way to update your wardrobe.
St Davids, website on the far south-western tip of Wales, viagra approved is a city of contradictions. Being the smallest city in the UK, it is really more of a village with a great big cathedral plonked down at one end. It is a tranquil little place but alongside the tea-and-scones brigade is a growing community of surfers who ride the waves on the beautiful beaches nearby all year round. Beyond the shoppers rummaging through baskets of souvenir tea-towels are legions of walkers and nature-lovers who explore the coast paths, the sea and the cliffs in between in search of puffins, seals and the delicate, beautiful Manx Shearwater birds that migrate past the headland every summer. Even the visitor centre (known as Oriel Y Parc, which means ‘the park gallery’) is an odd mixture, for if you walk through the coffee shop and past the leaflets on local attractions you will find yourself in a world-class gallery.
The gallery, a recent addition to the visitor centre, is itself beautifully harmonious in form and content. The environmentally sustainable building that houses it heralds what we can expect from a gallery in the 21st century. The graceful arc shape of the building catches the sun all day, keeping heating costs to a minimum. The ceilings are insulated with lamb’s wool and a green roof with its swaying grasses also brings warmth and helps to regulate the demand on the drainage system. Rainwater is used for the toilet cisterns and solar energy panels heat water for the kitchen. Recycled and second-hand materials have been used wherever possible – much of the stone for the walls comes from old derelict buildings.
Perhaps it is when you see what is on display inside the gallery that you truly understand the importance of all this low-impact building and energy conservation: to preserve the precious Pembrokeshire landscape that has inspired so many artists including London-born painter Graham Sutherland. Sutherland loved the landscape around St Davids, painting it again and again, and when he died in 1980 he left a great body of work to the people of Pembrokeshire.
Sutherland’s work will form the permanent central focus of the gallery’s exhibitions. For those used to gentle water-colour scenes of the Welsh coast, Sutherland’s paintings are a hand grenade assault on the senses – fierce, energy-filled evocations of the landscape, both challenging and fascinating.
For Oriel Y Parc to be given permission to exhibit the bequest it had to meet a stringent list of standards, including careful regulation of the humidity and temperature in the air and a complex and highly sophisticated security system. Meeting this criteria has meant that the gallery has been awarded ‘Class A’ status, which means that the work by Picasso and Rembrandt that is displayed alongside Sutherland’s paintings in the current exhibition will be the first in a long line of world-class international art to be shown at the centre.
Prompted by Sutherland’s extraordinary visions of the surrounding countryside, the gallery plans to use future exhibitions to investigate art’s relationship with the landscape and with nature. Brendan Burns a Cardiff-based painter has been making paintings of the Pembrokeshire coastline for about fifteen years. Being the first artist-in-residence at Oriel Y Parc is, he says, ‘so exciting because everything is new. It feels important, like you’re part of something major.’ He is thrilled by his proximity to his subject, as until now he has had to make the 100-mile journey home before he began to paint. He is also pleased to have Sutherland’s work in the next room, where he can pop in and refer to it whenever he pleases, and says he particularly draws inspiration from the photographs, drawings and writing in the bequest.
He can’t predict how the residency will affect his work, but says he is starting out by ‘taking walks on new beaches’.
• The work produced by Brendan Burns during his residency at Oriel Y Parc will be shown at Oriel Y Parc or the National Museum in Cardiff, towards the end of 2009.
This week’s environmental hero award goes to Dame Vivienne Westwood. Not only has she created unashamedly fabulous clothes for the last four decades, more about she also wears her heart on her sleeve. Quite literally, viagra buy in the form of a badge with the ubiquitous image of a rebel in a beret. But this is not Che Guevara, but Rembrandt who, according to Viv, was as much a freedom fighter as the Argentine revolutionary.
She explained this at the Art, Activism and the Legacy of Chico Mendes talk at the RSA a couple of nights ago. We were there to find out how art can be used to promote environmental causes. Unfortunately we left none the wiser, other than to have our suspicions confirmed that Dame Viv is slightly bonkers but an extraordinary creative mind (even if she did refer to the president of Guatemala as the ‘boss of the jungle’).
Amongst mutterings on plumbers and the evils of watching too much TV were moments of clarity; ‘Activists and art lovers are the same thing, through active pursuit of art and resistance to propaganda, they stop becoming consumers and start becoming thinkers.’
She seemed to address the point of the discussion more than any of the other panellists who struggled to reach a conclusion as to how the art world can break through the cloud of elitism that surrounds it and communicate social issues, such as environmentalism, to the average Tom, Dick and Harry.
The most striking thing about Viv (apart from the neon hair) was her honest and heartfelt concern for the state of the world. At times this came across as cringingly naïve; ‘we need to get Gordon Brown to pool all the money and buy the jungle.’ But she’s a wise woman who has campaigned for social causes for several years with the same unashamed eccentricity as her clothes. Read how Pinocchio finds art (among other tales) in her manifesto. Monday January 19th
The link between altered states and creative activity is not a novel one, buy more about but altered states is the order of the day for the next few months at Riflemaker. Voodoo “Hoochie Coochie and the Creative Spirit” is an exhibition that draws its artists, writers, and musicians on the common ground that they each recognise the need for altered states to in order to create their work. It begins today and goes through to April. Expect to see the non-doing before the doing …?
Tuesday January 20th
Get Müllerd And Dance – separately known as Jessica Dance and Robert Muller – are a multidisciplinary creative duo who featured in issue 10 with their ‘Crafty Scraves’. Jessica describes their work as, “ playful and using several different mediums, that often experiment with typography and play with the realms of scale and proportion – combining 2D traditional methods with more experimental 3D techniques.”
Their ethos is to have fun with ideas and not worry about the troubles that reality can bring. Creating a moment of escape whilst still communicating a message – evidence of this is in Topshop, Oxford Street, where an installation can be found on the lower ground floor for the next 2 weeks.
Check out a video of the piece being installed here.
The Universal Now, the first London show from Abigail Reynolds, is the new exhibition starting today at Seventeen on Kingsland Road. The work features a series of collages using imagery sourced from publications such as guide books and atlases, combining photographs of landscapes or monuments, and enmeshing them together. What you get is a three dimensional object, a grid-like construction that changes and moves with your perspective, underlining your presence as viewer.
Thursday January 22nd
Transition Gallerycontinues along the theme music and obsession in their new exhibition Too Much is Not Enough. Four artists deal with the delerium of fandom and the darker underbelly of the worn out and deprived celebrity.
Saturday January 24th
In or near Manchester? Today begins Interspecies at the Art Catalyst. All the artists question the one-sided manipulation of non-human life forms for art. They instead try to absorb the animal’s point of view as a fundamental part of their work and practice … I myself have been talking to my cat for years.
Sunday January 25th Indian Highway at the Serpentine has been going for some time now, a multi-media circus of Indian art old and new, with a strong emphasis on film. This Sunday at the Gate cinema they are showing A River Called Titas, an epic depiction of the tragic lives of a small fishing community living on the River Titas. “a raw and powerful tale of a drying river and with it a dying civilisation” says the BFI.
Last Thursday the transportation secretary Geoff Hoons approved BAA’s plans for a third runway at Heathrow. John McDonnell hurled a mace (some sort of ancient hammer) and the villagers of Sipson put their heads in their hands, yet again.
Over the past few months, viagra this ordinary post-war village- that happens to be nestled in the armpit of one of Europe’s largest airports- has had the attention of the world’s media. Thursday’s decision marked a major step towards the expansion of Heathrow Airport. All BAA needs to do now is meet EU standards next year and cross their fingers for a Labour victory at the 2010 election. The Conservatives, Liberal Democrats and Green Party all promise to scrap plans if elected.
If BAA’s wishes are actualised then the entire village of Sipson and part of neighbouring Harmondsworth will be demolished and replaced with a runway that would increase the airport’s flight capacity by 222, 000 per year. It is estimated that 700 homes will be bulldozed evicting some 2000 people. Undoubtedly it would also flatten the government’s legal commitment to cut carbon emissions by 80% by 2050.
Three days after Sky News covered the commons’ decision from the George IV pub, the anti-expansion placards remained clung to lampposts and front doors weather-beaten and worn. One of the more decorated front gardens along the otherwise modest row of houses that runs through the village belongs to Lynn Davies. She kindly invited me in for a cup of tea in between cooking Sunday lunch and what she admitted was ‘long-over-due ironing’.
She apologised for the clutter then, partly out of defiance and partly out of what struck me as exhaustion, explained how she has become less and less concerned about maintaining the house as while the kitchen flooring may need replacing, she thinks ‘why bother? If BAA are going to take my home away from me, which looks likely, it would just be a waste of time and money.’
Mrs Davies lives with her 16- year -old grandson Daryl in the house she bought with her ex-husband 39 years ago. For eleven years previous to this she lived in another house in the village. Her son lives in nearby Eastcote. Her story is not unusual in a village she describes as ‘a community united.’
Ever since she can remember there have been threats to expand the airport whose presence shadows us with the constant hum of low-flying aircraft and the stream of imposing high-rise hotels that runs along the perimeter of the village. But plans were constantly deferred and new ones emplaced that it wasn’t always easy to keep up. Her ex-husband returned home once with a map detailing plans for a runway that would cut strait through their house. When she split from her husband she threw the map out with him. Unfortunately, this would come back to haunt her.
I approached Bryan Sobey’s house with hesitancy as I had heard he had been unwell. I was relieved to be greeted by a robust man in his seventies and his very friendly dog called Dev. I had been pointed in his direction because, as president of the resident’s association, he is a glossary of dates and calculations of the numerous plans for expansion that have been proposed over a 57-year time span.
‘The government don’t know what they are doing,’ he says. Aside from the 700 homes inside Sipson and Harmondsworth, a further 480 homes would need to be demolished in order for the project to be granted EU planning permission. These are the houses either situated so close to any new runway they would sit inside a Public Safety Zone, or in areas that would be subject to noise in the 69-decibel band, which is deemed intolerable. Mr Sobey also points out those houses that would have an airport fence or security wall yards from their front door, these could well number 500 homes. The government has offered no provision for compensation for what could be as many as 2000 people.
Mr Sobey moved to the area in 1951 with his late wife and their twelve-day-old baby. Their home was in one of many new housing developments built to accommodate the Nation’s growing number of young families. He remembers the first airport expansion took place during 1951 and 1952. The resident’s association was set up at the same time-it’s raison d’etre was to prevent airport expansion that would further impose on their new homes.
In the late eighties, tentative expansion plans began to creep to the surface. Then in 1990, a major study was carried out to find out how an increase in flight capacity would impact on society at large as well as on the communities that reside in the expansion area. In 1995, after 5 years of research, the plan was rejected as it was deemed ‘too great a social upheaval’. Yet in 2000, BAA put forward a proposal for a ‘small’ runway. Mr Sobey hastened to add that a small runway would mean landing aircraft would be forced to use powered reverse thrust in order to stop in time. This would contribute to noise pollution and be a massive disturbance to 5000 homes.
At this, he sunk back into his armchair weary and surrounded by small reminders of his late wife whom he ‘misses every minute.’ As I left for the George IV pub, I imagined what the village must have looked like to Mr Sobey and his wife when they first moved here just after The Second World War. Neat rows of bright houses radiating a newly instated optimism.
Over a bitter shandy and a packet of cheese and onion crisps at the pub, I overhead a motley circle of residents discussing Thursday’s decision. ‘Money-grabbers’ ‘liars’ and rather more offensive terms were used to describe Gordon Brown and Geoffrey Hoons.
The future of Sipson is uncertain. Although encased in a cloud of bleak resignation, the village continues it’s fight with the support of numerous activist groups-some of whom are prepared to move into houses in the village if BAA’s expansion reaches the point of evicting people. Greenpeace have bought a patch of land behind the pub further complicating BAA’s plans to buy people out of their homes. There is talk of planting vegetables on the plot of land, which has cheered many villagers. Although it would be a jolly reminder of the countryside that once was, it strikes me that there is something anachronous about a vegetable patch in the midst of an increasingly concrete wilderness that has remained in limbo for over half a century.
Now it’s time for the natural progression from clothes swapping – the great British tradition of the jumble sale; getting up at 4am on a weekend morning, visit usually in unsavoury weather to trawl through the tat other people don’t want in the hope of finding that hidden gem. There’s nothing quite like it.
Example, my last trip to one resulted in 4 board games (good ones like Scrabble and Cluedo) for £4 and a pair of cute black shoes for one English pound!
Get yourself down to one now! Here’s our pick of the best in the four corners of London town.
Those in the north can enjoy the delights at Wood Green’s New River Sports Centre, White Hart Lane, N22, where there is a car boot/jumble event. The twist to this one is it’s on a Friday and is free entry. Rise early, it starts at 6am and the closest tube is Wood Green.
Head south to Battersea Tec College on Battersea Park Road (entrance in Dagnall St) SW11 on Sunday between 1.30pm and 5pm. It is a quaint 30p to get in.
If you’re in east london then pop down to this one:
And the final point of the compass takes us west, well to Kilburn (it counts!), more specifically to a huge car boot sale, a brilliant mix of knick-knacks and vintage stuff at St Augustine’s C of E Primary School, Kilburn Park Rd, NW6. It’s £3 before 11am but a mere 50p afterwards. Get down there from 8am on Saturday.
Written by Jennifer McNulty on Monday January 19th, 2009 2:27 pm
If you try to describe this to someone (which you shouldn’t, this websales don’t give anything away), doctormedications you will sound like you are conjuring from memory a nonsensical and fantastical dream; not something remotely tangible that actually happened in a 25-minute journey through a Shorditch warehouse.
Enter the ride and find yourself wheeled through 15 distinct scenarios with over 70 artists acting out micro-performances. “Designed to mentally and visually astound”, check; “leaving you overwhelmed and exhilarated’, check and check; and finishing the ride “in a totally different emotional state from the one you were in when you embarked on the journey”, most definitely true: utterly elated, mesmerised, and psychologically discombobulated.
The You Me Bum Bum train represents a new branch of experimental live art where the line between performer and audience is not just blurred, but utterly turned on it’s head; interaction is integral to the experience, and how far you take this is up to you. It’s creators Kate Bond and Morgan Lloyd, intend to strip individuals of decision-making, giving passengers the would-be ordinary experience of somebody else’s shoes. You are left with fleeting slices of alternate realities, one moment you might be a drummer, the next a translator (I really don’t want to say much!). It’s real human experience through the prism of the utterly surreal, and it will take you some time to reclaim your grasp on the two, a most marvellous and novel experience.
The venue is essential to the experience, and they describe Cordy House as their dream venue, lending itself to the most ambitious event they’ve held yet.
There isn’t much time to go, and I whole-heartedly recommend it as an unforgettable experience. It runs every Saturday from now until the 20th of December between 7pm and 11pm.
Hip Parisian fahion and electro label, buy Kitsuné, what is ed are fast becoming as well known for their associated music as they are for their fashion. In fact, there is a clear cut three-way divide at Heaven tonight: scenesters, dressed for the fashion blog photographers collide en masse with those who know Kitsuné for the music and are quite unprepared for the additional rooms full of said scenesters, and with the regular Heaven clubbers, used to G-A-Y Camp Attack on Friday nights and probably the most bemused of everyone here.
Within the four rooms there’s a frustrating mix of real djs and acts like Autokratz, whose Pet Shop Boys go big beat set was a joy to behold and left me humming ‘Stay The Same’ for the rest of the night. Hearts Revolution, Punks Jump Up and Kitsuné house band Digitalism all turned out in force to impress and did so, although at times the acts felt a little repetitive. Alas, alongside these quality acts, we also got a number of vanity djs, including various models and boutique owners, which all blurred into the same set as the night progressed and seemed to play to rooms full of people aiming to get to the bar and move on.
It transpired that the ‘Don’t Panic’ room was the place to be. Inspired by K-Tron, blasting bass heavy No-Wave, they held me and the room in near divine rapture. The highlight of the night however, was Matthew Stone who dragged us back to 1985 via The KLF, his effortlessly sublime musical compass taking us on a seemingly random adventure, fitting perfectly with the tone of the night. There were some true high points tonight, but Kitsuné are probably best enjoyed via one of their compilations than live, based on tonight’s evidence.
Global Day of Action
6th December 2008
This will be the Saturday midway through the next round of UN Climate Talks and our best chance to influence the decisions of delegates ahead of the critical UN talks in 2009 at which a post-Kyoto treaty agreement will be decided.
LONDON
Climate Bike Ride 2008
Assemble 10.30 am Lincolns Inn Fields for a mass bike ride around Central London joining up with the National Climate March at Grosvenor Square (see next listing for National Climate March info)
The three stops on the route are:
-Outside Greenergy, 198 High Holborn – for an agrofuels protest organised by Biofuelswatch
-Outside E.On 100 Pall Mall – for a speaker on NO NEW COAL
-Outside the Department of Transport – for a speaker on sustainable transport
Everyone welcome; decorate your bikes, bring whistles, bring music!
Want to help out for this action? Contact Jeremy Hill on 07816 839883 or jeremy.hill1@btopenworld.com
National Climate March and Global Day of Action on Climate
The march starts at 12noon at Grosvenor Square and will move via Carlos Place and Mount Street to Berkley Square and Berkley street to Picacadily, Picadilly Circus, Lower Regent street, Pall Mall and Cockspur street to Trafalgar Square and Whitehall to Parliament Square.
We will bring the UK issues of Aviation, New coal and Biofuels to the streets of London, along with a call for more investment in renewable energy, more energy efficiency and more green jobs.
Speakers will include Nick Clegg (leader Liberal Democrat Party), Caroline Lucas (leader, Green party), Michael Meacher (ex-Environment Minister) and George Monbiot (Honorary President, Campaign against Climate Change).
Contact: 020 7833 9311 www.campaigncc.org
There will also be an After-Party in the Synergy Centre from 5.00 pm till late.
The March on Parliament has four main themes –
1) NO to a 3rd runway at Heathrow and the runaway expansion in aviation expansion.
2) NO new coal – no new coal-fired power stations as planned at eg Kingsnorth in Kent
3) NO to the expansion of agrofuels – with negative impacts on forests, the climate and world food supply.
4) YES to a renewable energy revolution and green jobs – a “Green new Deal”
Come with your own banners, costumes on one of these themes and join up with others pushing that theme……
The March on Parliament for the Climate marks the Saturday midway through the UN Climate Talks in Poznan, Poland and we make our demands on the UK government in solidarity with the world’s poorest and most vulnerable communities that will suffer worst and most immediately from climate change caused overwhelmingly by the rich long-industrialised countries.
We need the government to act now on climate, to stop building coal-fired power stations and new runways – and to begin the renewable energy revolution. We need a tidal wave of people outside parliament to make them act to stop climate catastrophe now! Be part of that tidal wave, be there! Next year may be too late.
BUST is a magazine devoted to the female. Providing an unapologetic view of life in the female lane, they break down stereotypes! Based in the US and established in 1993, the magazine addresses a variety of different issues within pop sulture, including music, fashion, art & crafts and news.
Editor-in-Chief, Debbie Stoller, decided to call the magazine BUST, because it was “aggressive and sexy and funny… It was a title that could belong to a men’s porn magazine.”
For Women With Something To Get Off Their Chests! Click here for the Christmas Craftacular’s Facebook Page
Jumble Fever Under the bridge on Beck Road, E8 Saturday 6th December
Midday-4pm, Entry £1
A fabulous jumble sale with a boogie twist! There will be a great deal to see and do and buy.. See you there!
Written by Saven Chadha on Monday December 1st, 2008 8:00 am
