For those who still think Lady Gaga is the epitome of out-thereness and originality, because she appeared on the MTV VMAs in drag, here is Annie Lennox of Eurythmics weirding out John Denver at the Grammys. In 1984.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Sunday, August 21, 2011
The Pharmacy of Stories
To sunny Hackney to see a private view of Mermaid song and lustrous balm, a new show at The Pharmacy of Stories, tucked away behind a non-descript office building abutting London Fields.
A bijou space is transformed into a fantastical grotto, which on the night was populated by singing mermaids, salty tales and audience participation.
As I boarded my bus home, I noticed the paper badge I had been handed at the exhibit had fallen off its safety pin. I wonder what a passerby would make of the message: Consume my flesh and be immortal.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Support indie labels
One of the victims of the rioting in London was the Sony DADC warehouse, which went up in flames, destroying stock from the many indie labels distributed by PIAS.
The full implications of this catastrophe in such a difficult economy are as yet unknown, but in the meantime music lovers are encouraged to support the labels by buying their wares online or through local record stores. PIAS has put up a link to their catalogues on Spotify.
The full implications of this catastrophe in such a difficult economy are as yet unknown, but in the meantime music lovers are encouraged to support the labels by buying their wares online or through local record stores. PIAS has put up a link to their catalogues on Spotify.
Saturday, August 06, 2011
Friday, August 05, 2011
Silver Jubilee
Today marks the 25th anniversary of my receiving this piece of kit, which has been my electronic companion through thick and thin. Together we have traversed continents, attended concerts and found ourselves privy to many a fascinating conversation. Now in semi-retirement, it still manages the odd dubbing session. Though I have searched high and low, I have yet to find anything digital to replace it. All hail the analogue recorder.
Wednesday, August 03, 2011
DCF recap
A bit late reporting back from Dirty Cop Friday, but I took awhile to download my pix. The one displayed here shows Dangerous Dinky onstage with the Electric Puffs, while Sista Kist from Anarchistwood dances with abandon. Dinky's crop is not in this photo, but was certainly present throughout much of the set, smacking botties aplenty. Ahem.
I also made my debut as a video interviewer, but have yet to see the footage.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
This week: Dirty Cop Friday
Dirty Cop Friday is back in two days, with an array of bands, DJs and art at the Old Police Station.
Bands:
Anarchistwood
Healthy Junkies
Dogshite
Dangerous Dinky
The Electric Puffs
DJs:
Dave Dog
Tiddles
Exhibition:
Cartel Show - curated by Dave Beech
Bands:
Anarchistwood
Healthy Junkies
Dogshite
Dangerous Dinky
The Electric Puffs
DJs:
Dave Dog
Tiddles
Exhibition:
Cartel Show - curated by Dave Beech
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Ballad of the bad muffins
This being blackberry time, I trudged up to my favourite patch and collected the first pickings of the season. I only got 1/2 kg, but it was enough for a yummy smoothie and some pancakes, so I checked back three days later and was able to gather 1 kg, with minimal blood lost (a snagged trouser leg).
It wasn't enough to bother with freezing, so I pondered how to put the haul to good use and decided on muffins. Now, my last few batches have been a bit hit-and-miss. I made some pretty awful oily corn muffins some weeks back, but the next batch was tasty.
Fresh blackberry muffins! In the oven they went and I settled down with a paper. And forgot them for a bit. When I took them out, they looked a little browner than optimum. But, they had risen nicely and I could see the blackberries peeping through. I lifted one out, made some tea and took a bite.
It was foul. Wow. Really bad. Maybe excess heat or excess baking soda was to blame. The texture was moist and there was plenty of blackberry, but the thing was barely edible. How could muffins that looked so yummy be that bad? Never mind. I can't bear food being wasted. I made myself eat it, washed down with copious amounts of tea. I shall now apportion one bad muffin a day until they are all done. And enjoy the smoothies.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Word of the day: de-arrest
Just finished watching a new doc on environmental activism and I was struck by a wave of deja-vu observing the planning and training that goes into such actions. "Oh," I thought. "We used to do that", regarding going limp and so forth. Ah, yes, back in the day, in the early '90s, when the streets of San Francisco were alive with shouting.
One tactic that was new to me was "de-arresting": if someone gets grabbed by the police, the person shouts "De-arrest!" and the rest of the affinity group swarms around in an act of collective liberation. Imagine how that would work in the wider world: you're walking down the street and confronted by an assailant. You shout "De-arrest!" and people come out of the woodwork to your aid. Most empowering.
One tactic that was new to me was "de-arresting": if someone gets grabbed by the police, the person shouts "De-arrest!" and the rest of the affinity group swarms around in an act of collective liberation. Imagine how that would work in the wider world: you're walking down the street and confronted by an assailant. You shout "De-arrest!" and people come out of the woodwork to your aid. Most empowering.
Monday, July 04, 2011
Tracey Emin: Love Is What You Want
Now showing at the Hayward Gallery through August, this Tracey Emin retrospective is a dizzying mass of wood, neon, cut-up clothing and found objects, all filtered through the lens of La Emin. Which isn't to say Love Is What You Want is bad (Brian Sewell's bilious review notwithstanding). But, given Emin's raddled image and how much the prospective visitor thinks s/he knows about the artist, it is illuminating.
Walking through the warren of rooms on multiple levels, I tried to recall what other Emin artwork I had seen over the years and found myself faltering. Was it White Cube in the noughties? Tate Modern in the '90s? Hadn't I seen that shack before? Or was it on the internet? I really couldn't recall, as Emin has such a high profile, her actual art gets less scrutiny than her life.
But, seeing the works close up (or as close up as one can when so many are under glass--peering through a glass case to fathom tiny printed letters, I was chastised by a guard for "leaning on" the glass; my notebook may have brushed it in passing, but I put no weight on it whatsoever), I found myself warming to some and was left indifferent by others. The drawings, for instance, didn't hold my interest nearly as much as the quilts, cut from the clothing of loved ones and stitched with Emin's texts, many of which seem to be messages to herself. Some are funny, some poignant, but, all demand to be considered.
The neon works are less emotive, but also notable, even if only to punctuate the exhibit. A pity so many were stacked up in one place, giving the black corridor the look of Soho on a Saturday night.
What really startled me as I entered each room was the array of people sketching. Even in rooms showing films, there were earnest people sitting cross-legged in dark corners, sketching away. For once, as I scribbled my observations in my notebook, I didn't feel so out of place. Was it student day or is every day like this?
Themes that emerged were Emin's ambivalence over her abortions; her conflicted relationships with family members; her grappling with the past; and her quest for love, of herself and others. In the video work, "Conversation with My Mum", Emin and her mother sit at a table, munching chocolates and smoking while debating whether the younger Emin should or should not have a baby. I sat there, jaw dropped, as the older Emin proffered words of wisdom to her daughter along the line of: "Every woman who doesn't have one wants to have a baby" and "Having a baby would ruin your life." Contradiction obviously runs in the family.
Wood and spirals leapt out at me. The first she admires for its weathered, natural qualities and the second, I am guessing, because it moves inward as it travels.
I also discovered that 3 July is Tracey Emin's birthday, celebrated in 1993 with the closing of her enterprise with Sarah Lucas, The Shop, which is recalled here with a jumble of objects in a case, including a box with the ashes of the unsold goods. This was juxtaposed with the work recalling her beloved nan, "There's a lot of money in chairs", with text appliqued to the back of an antique chair Emin took on tour in the USA.
The Hayward is incorporating a lot of social media into this exhibit, including an intriguing Tracey Tuesdays feature, in which visitors can ask Tracey Emin questions and get responses on Facebook. Before I visited the exhibit, I checked out the page and was amused to see some of Emin's responses, including advice on where to eat in Margate.
Walking through the warren of rooms on multiple levels, I tried to recall what other Emin artwork I had seen over the years and found myself faltering. Was it White Cube in the noughties? Tate Modern in the '90s? Hadn't I seen that shack before? Or was it on the internet? I really couldn't recall, as Emin has such a high profile, her actual art gets less scrutiny than her life.
But, seeing the works close up (or as close up as one can when so many are under glass--peering through a glass case to fathom tiny printed letters, I was chastised by a guard for "leaning on" the glass; my notebook may have brushed it in passing, but I put no weight on it whatsoever), I found myself warming to some and was left indifferent by others. The drawings, for instance, didn't hold my interest nearly as much as the quilts, cut from the clothing of loved ones and stitched with Emin's texts, many of which seem to be messages to herself. Some are funny, some poignant, but, all demand to be considered.
The neon works are less emotive, but also notable, even if only to punctuate the exhibit. A pity so many were stacked up in one place, giving the black corridor the look of Soho on a Saturday night.
What really startled me as I entered each room was the array of people sketching. Even in rooms showing films, there were earnest people sitting cross-legged in dark corners, sketching away. For once, as I scribbled my observations in my notebook, I didn't feel so out of place. Was it student day or is every day like this?
Themes that emerged were Emin's ambivalence over her abortions; her conflicted relationships with family members; her grappling with the past; and her quest for love, of herself and others. In the video work, "Conversation with My Mum", Emin and her mother sit at a table, munching chocolates and smoking while debating whether the younger Emin should or should not have a baby. I sat there, jaw dropped, as the older Emin proffered words of wisdom to her daughter along the line of: "Every woman who doesn't have one wants to have a baby" and "Having a baby would ruin your life." Contradiction obviously runs in the family.
Wood and spirals leapt out at me. The first she admires for its weathered, natural qualities and the second, I am guessing, because it moves inward as it travels.
I also discovered that 3 July is Tracey Emin's birthday, celebrated in 1993 with the closing of her enterprise with Sarah Lucas, The Shop, which is recalled here with a jumble of objects in a case, including a box with the ashes of the unsold goods. This was juxtaposed with the work recalling her beloved nan, "There's a lot of money in chairs", with text appliqued to the back of an antique chair Emin took on tour in the USA.
The Hayward is incorporating a lot of social media into this exhibit, including an intriguing Tracey Tuesdays feature, in which visitors can ask Tracey Emin questions and get responses on Facebook. Before I visited the exhibit, I checked out the page and was amused to see some of Emin's responses, including advice on where to eat in Margate.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Fever Fever at Glastonbury
Quite a lot of goodies up on the BBC Glastonbury site, including a live feed from 6Music and videos of gigs, including one from Norwich's Fever Fever, whom I have played a bit on my show. Nice to see them getting some national exposure.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Die Hymne zur Frauen-WM
A quick side-step to football now, with the Women's World Cup about to start in Germany. But, what drew my attention was the theme song for the competition, as sung by none other than Melanie C, "Rock Me". One can see the thinking behind this: the one-time Sporty Spice, Girl Power, u.s.w., I mean, and so forth.
The song is a bit of Europop, proclaiming a desire to feel the fever. So far, so "World in Motion".
But the video is what caught my attention. What is going on there? OK. It's suitably urban, with arty graffiti I couldn't read, but apparently reads: Rock Me. There are even women displaying, gasp, footballing skills. But, Mel herself seems to have misread the script and appears to be auditioning for a spot in the Playboy mansion. Stop grabbing yourself, woman! Most odd.
Back to the football. Go, England! And do avoid penalties.
The song is a bit of Europop, proclaiming a desire to feel the fever. So far, so "World in Motion".
But the video is what caught my attention. What is going on there? OK. It's suitably urban, with arty graffiti I couldn't read, but apparently reads: Rock Me. There are even women displaying, gasp, footballing skills. But, Mel herself seems to have misread the script and appears to be auditioning for a spot in the Playboy mansion. Stop grabbing yourself, woman! Most odd.
Back to the football. Go, England! And do avoid penalties.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Renée
Word comes via Women and Hollywood that Renée, a doc on tennis coach/ophthalmologist Renée Richards is doing the festival circuit in the USA.
Richards, born Richard Raskind, was undoubtedly the first transsexual person of whom I was aware, and her struggles to play on the women's tennis tour after sex change surgery became tabloid fodder. Her becoming a coach to Martina Navratilova, my favourite player, only added fuel to the fire and increased my admiration for her.
As a teen, I remember reading Richards' autobiography, Second Serve (later turned into a TV movie), and being surprised that both Richard and Renée were actively heterosexual. Most confusing to an adolescent, but evidence of the wonderful multiplicity of human behaviour.
Sounds like things didn't go so smoothly between Renée and her son, mentioned in the book as preferring her to dress in men's garb when they had a visit. They later became estranged and the film explores their painful relationship, too. Let's hope the film makes it to this side of the pond.
I couldn't find any video relating to the doc, but here's a clip of Vanessa Redgrave from the TV film.
Richards, born Richard Raskind, was undoubtedly the first transsexual person of whom I was aware, and her struggles to play on the women's tennis tour after sex change surgery became tabloid fodder. Her becoming a coach to Martina Navratilova, my favourite player, only added fuel to the fire and increased my admiration for her.
As a teen, I remember reading Richards' autobiography, Second Serve (later turned into a TV movie), and being surprised that both Richard and Renée were actively heterosexual. Most confusing to an adolescent, but evidence of the wonderful multiplicity of human behaviour.
Sounds like things didn't go so smoothly between Renée and her son, mentioned in the book as preferring her to dress in men's garb when they had a visit. They later became estranged and the film explores their painful relationship, too. Let's hope the film makes it to this side of the pond.
I couldn't find any video relating to the doc, but here's a clip of Vanessa Redgrave from the TV film.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Wednesday, June 08, 2011
Sisters of Mirthy DIY podcast
The new Sisters of Mirthy podcast (not actually downloadable) on the subject of DIY is up and features interviews with zine makers and musicians, as well as yours truly ruminating on San Francisco, Berlin and DIY film-making. It's a bit quiet, so best for headphone listening.
Wednesday, June 01, 2011
The GBS comes to LDN
If only summertime were always like this--blue skies, sun-kissed gardens, roses abloom. A great day for washing the cat, admiring the views, etc.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Kate Bush on 6Music
Haven't been able to hear it myself yet, but all this week, the reclusive Kate Bush is appearing on 6Music's new Radcliffe and Maconie show, speaking about The Director's Cut, her new album of old songs.
Check out the Listen Again function, which also has a handy list of tracks played, hinting at just where Ms. Bush's interview clips may crop up, facilitating fast-forwarding (I used to enjoy Radcliffe on Radio 1, but Maconie irritates me).
Check out the Listen Again function, which also has a handy list of tracks played, hinting at just where Ms. Bush's interview clips may crop up, facilitating fast-forwarding (I used to enjoy Radcliffe on Radio 1, but Maconie irritates me).
Sunday, May 15, 2011
The Ring Revisited
Flipping stations idly trying to find some intelligent conversation or good music, I found myself on Radio 3, mid-opera. As I ran my bath, I found I recognised the language (German) and, slowly, the music. It was Wagner's Ring Cycle, but which opera?
Hmmm. A baritone (probably a bad guy), tenor (probably a good guy) and soprano (could be heroine or love interest) locked in some kind of conflict. The tenor was singing a lot about his Vater, so I guessed Götterdämmerung, but eventually was informed differently. It was Die Walküre, Act I and live from The Met.
Wow.
Having grown up in New York and having first heard opera on WNYC's Live from The Met broadcasts, introduced to Wagner by an impassioned music teacher, this was a real find. As I reclined in my bath, I tried to follow what was going on. Ah, yes, Sieglinde and Siegmund had just run off together, incurring the wrath of the gods. And Brunnhilde was about to get in a LOT of trouble.
Now Brunnhilde and I had some history, as I had played one of her sisters, Waltraute, and also been Brunnhilde's understudy in a children's version of the cycle, though I was much relieved I never had to go on-stage in this role. Too much pressure. But, I loved the costume, and especially my winged headgarb. That was pretty cool for an 11-year-old. But, I still marvel at the utter inappropriateness of kids playing out a drama that involves such a plethora of sexcapades and murders. Oh, well. I am sure it didn't shape my world view in any view. Ahem.
It did inspire me to learn German. And visits to The Met were a ticket to the promised land, extremely rare and to be treasured. Sitting in the nosebleed seats, peering through a black scrim, trying to fathom what was happening. For six hours. Bliss.
At the end, with Wotan bidding farewell to a sleeping Brunnhilde alone on her mountaintop, punished for daring to follow her instincts, I felt a pang for the past.
Hmmm. A baritone (probably a bad guy), tenor (probably a good guy) and soprano (could be heroine or love interest) locked in some kind of conflict. The tenor was singing a lot about his Vater, so I guessed Götterdämmerung, but eventually was informed differently. It was Die Walküre, Act I and live from The Met.
Wow.
Having grown up in New York and having first heard opera on WNYC's Live from The Met broadcasts, introduced to Wagner by an impassioned music teacher, this was a real find. As I reclined in my bath, I tried to follow what was going on. Ah, yes, Sieglinde and Siegmund had just run off together, incurring the wrath of the gods. And Brunnhilde was about to get in a LOT of trouble.
Now Brunnhilde and I had some history, as I had played one of her sisters, Waltraute, and also been Brunnhilde's understudy in a children's version of the cycle, though I was much relieved I never had to go on-stage in this role. Too much pressure. But, I loved the costume, and especially my winged headgarb. That was pretty cool for an 11-year-old. But, I still marvel at the utter inappropriateness of kids playing out a drama that involves such a plethora of sexcapades and murders. Oh, well. I am sure it didn't shape my world view in any view. Ahem.
It did inspire me to learn German. And visits to The Met were a ticket to the promised land, extremely rare and to be treasured. Sitting in the nosebleed seats, peering through a black scrim, trying to fathom what was happening. For six hours. Bliss.
At the end, with Wotan bidding farewell to a sleeping Brunnhilde alone on her mountaintop, punished for daring to follow her instincts, I felt a pang for the past.
Friday, May 06, 2011
Sunday, May 01, 2011
Movie MayDay
I haven't been to much at this year's East End Film Festival for its tenth anniversary, but tomorrow is Movie MayDay, with screenings, quizzes and other cinema-related events at 88 venues across the East End. Bank Holiday Monday and free cinema! Hurrah.
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