two hands

So, a whole nine months and no posts… maybe it’s time to give up on this blog? I so enjoyed 52 Poets – I don’t know why this one’s been so hard to keep up…

Here’s another try, though. I went to the most amazing concert last Friday, for my birthday, and it seemed just the thing with which to resurrect this blog. We went to see the London Philharmonic Orchestra at the Royal Festival Hall (a home match as it were – they’re the South Bank’s resident orchestra). The programme was Rachmaninov’s Isle of the Dead – here’s a fantastic introduction to the piece which you can listen to on the Radio 4 website; Mozart’s Piano Concerto no 23, and Richard Strauss’s Also Sprach Zarathustra – which apart from the opening part, was the one piece I wasn’t familiar with.

We had two boxes at the front, and it was so wonderful to have a view. Symphony orchestras are just so fantastic to watch – something like seventy violins, plus the rest! – and what a sound… Nothing compares to seeing music live, and that’s just as true of classical as any other genre. It was just – wow. The Isle of the Dead was probably my favourite piece – it’s so atmospheric. The opening notes had the hairs on my neck prickling.

The Mozart was a real treat too, of course. It’s a very familiar piece of music to me; I like listening to classical music when I’m working, in particular piano music, and I have a few cds of Mozart’s piano concertos, including the one we heard. The really exciting thing for me was getting to see a concert pianist play – I’ve seen symphony orchestras perform, but never a concert pianist. And this one was extra special – it was Leon Fleisher. Now in his eighties, Fleisher was a celebrated pianist until he lost the use of one of his hands, for something like thirty-five years. During this time he played the (somewhat limited) repertoire of one-handed piano music and established an alternative career as a conductor. Five or so years ago he got the use of his hand back, thanks to pioneering treatment (botox injections, apparently), and now he’s performing again. I first heard of him by listening to his lauded ‘Two Hands’ recording – his comeback cd from a few years ago, and it was so exciting to be able to see and hear this brilliant musician. There’s a lovely story in the Times here.

The Strauss was good fun (and of course has that fabulous opening) but I did find my attention wandering a few times; it’s actually not a piece I know at all, and sometimes familiarity helps. Anyway, hurrah for fantastic live music – and thanks to my lovely family for joining me, and making it a very special birthday.

The Straight Story rescore

Enough! Too long! I’ve just deleted all the drafts of posts between now and February that I’ve never finished and published, and I’m starting again, again…

To kick things back off, then, a special screening of David Lynch’s The Straight Story at the Ritzy in Brixton. It was a rescore, done live by Big Chill friends and Sheffield duo Animat, and follows their hugely well received rescore of French animation Belleville Rendezvous. The Straight Story rescore included (apparently – I’d not seen the film before) a lot of the original score by Angelo Badalamenti, who has written the scores for most of David Lynch’s films, I think, mixed in with their own electronica compositions, plus tracks from the dj vaults. Given that it was a very scenic film, with lots of both close-ups of people’s faces, and panoramic shots of huge vistas, I think it was a great one to rescore, and sat well with Animat’s music. My only problems were the quality of the film – it looked like it was a dvd, which doesn’t look all that great on a cinema screen – and that the soundtrack occasionally got in the way of the dialogue. Other than that, enchanting stuff.

 

 

December+January+February

So much for catching up… and of course with a backlog I never get around to what I’m actually enjoying currently, because I have to clear my plate first. No more! Enough!

For completion’s sake, and then it’s done, here are two months worth of highlights:

December saw the consumption of Wes Anderson’s The Darjeeling Limited, Kenneth Branagh’s The Magic Flute, Disney’s Enchanted, the Lee Miller and craft exhibitions at the V&A, an inspiring talk by Jeremy Begbie at the LICC, comedy from Mark Thomas, dinners at Abeno and Canteen, the Barbican’s Jack and the Beanstalk and the Criterion’s 39 Steps, and Christmas atmosphere at Dennis Severs’ House.

January was much quieter, with a new purchase of an old Rufus Wainright album, Rufus Wainright (brilliant); a visit to the new gem gallery at the Natural History Museum (a little disappointing, with too many exhibits ‘temporarily removed’); the Age of Enchantment exhibition at the Dulwich Picture gallery (beautiful); and my first visit of the year to Kew Gardens.

I might as well clear February out of the way too, while I’m at it: two stunning films – both of which have recently won Oscars – No Country for Old Men and There Will be Blood; a jaunt to Barcelona, and to go with it George Orwell’s Fighting in Spain (a very poorly edited – unacceptable from Penguin – extract from Homage to Catalonia); a surprisingly arresting read in Anita Diamant’s The Red Tent; a second visit to Kew; and last night, a spoken word performance from the ever-compelling Saul Williams. Absolutely thrilling.

Here’s to fairer blogging weather in 2008! The poetry project has got off to a good start; I’ll have to see if I can replicate my dedication here…

November

November was a great month. It kicked off with a magical mystery date to Lucha Britannia’s ‘day of the dead spectacular’, which was awesome. Lucha Britannia nights, in their own words, are ‘a mixture of British World of sport/Mexican Lucha Libre wrestling, wrapped up in a bizarre cabaret show set in an Orwellian near future, where the “Yankee Bosch” have taken over the world and banned all forms of entertainment they don’t control’. I’ve always been faintly horrified by wrestling, and I wasn’t sure what to expect from the night, but it was fantastic fun. The wrestling itself was both a lot more entertaining and impressive than I would have expected (a four-way luchador fight plus ladder at the end had the whole crowd extremely excited), and although the cabaret was a little more, er, extreme than I might have liked, it too was quite a show. Best of all was the vibe of the night, with the back-story to enter into and a superbly dressed, friendly crowd (we enjoyed dressing up too). We’ll definitely be going again, although they don’t seem to be happening as often as they did earlier on last year. Here’s a short piece/interview from Time Out and here are my photos on flickr (warning: one photo is NSFW).

Following this great review Dan and I went to see The Counterfeiters, a German film set in a concentration camp where the prisoners’ dilemma hinges on whether or not to comply with counterfeiting the American dollar. It was fascinating, brutal, horrifying and totally absorbing – and based on fact: Operation Bernhard aimed to destabilise the British, and then American, economies by flooding the market with counterfeit currency. Krueger’s Men, published a couple of years ago, looks like the definitive account of the plot; here’s a fascinating article about how the film came to be made.

A quick jaunt to Rome in the middle of the month: my first visit to the eternal city. The weather was beautiful – mild but slightly crisp – and it wasn’t too busy. The whole trip, though short, really deserves its own post (or three), but the two things that remain lodged in my mind are sunny walks just exploring the city and its architecture, and visiting the Basilica of San Clemente. San Clemente is not just a beautiful twelfth-century basilica with exquisite frescoes and mosaics, but is built on top of a fourth-century basilica, which was built on top of a second-century Roman house, which contains a Mithraic temple – and you can walk down into each level. Extraordinary. The day that we flew back news was breaking that archaeologists have discovered what they think is the lupercale – the cave in which Romulus and Remus were suckled by a wolf. My photos from the trip are here.

Back home, the Photographic Portrait Prize 2007 at the National Portrait Gallery. The photograph used for the publicity for this exhibition was so arresting that I decided I had to go and see it, and it was a great little show – just the right size for a Friday night, with some really compelling portraits. It’s on until March; below is the winning portrait.

October

I know, I know. I promised and I didn’t deliver. Honestly, writing this regularly, and keeping it vaguely up to date, is one of my new year vows.

Is anyone still interested in the last three months of 2007? I think I am; I did some lovely things. It was young Daniel’s birthday at the beginning of October, so we headed southwest to sample the various delights of Kew: first, michelin-starred French-style restaurant The Glasshouse (sister restaurant of Chez Bruce and La Trompette). I’d never been before, but it’s one of Daniel’s favourite places to eat in London, and it was pretty special. Sadly I can’t remember what I ate, although I do remember that Dan had one of their signature dishes, the truffled, deep-fried egg, as his starter. It was a real treat, and for food that good, very good value. Highly recommended. Maybe we’ll get a return visit for my birthday next month.

Then a quick trot over the road to the Royal Botanic Gardens, to see the wonderful exhibition of twenty-eight of Henry Moore’s outdoor sculptures. It was beautiful to see so many large sculptures, all together, outside and in such beautiful surroundings. The exhibition’s on until the end of March, and I’m definitely planning to go again.

Rob Ryan is an artist who specialises in cutting paper, and I went to see an exhibition of the illustrations that make up his book, This is For You, at the Rebecca Hossack Gallery near Fitzroy Square. I’d never heard of him before, and I was utterly captivated by his work: it’s both exquisite and whimsical, and somehow reminds me of the books I used to read when I was little. The book is a love story, of sorts, and although the illustrations are reproduced beautifully, I think his work is much better viewed up close. If only I’d had a spare couple of grand to buy one of his beautiful pieces… maybe I’ll content myself with one of his tiles. Here’s a lovely article about him and his work from the Telegraph.

October’s one real disappointment was Punchdrunk’s production of The Masque of the Red Death. I first came across Punchdrunk at the Big Chill festival in 2004, where they put on a totally absorbing version of Woyzek. I’d heard that their 2006 production of Faust was excellent, so I was really looking forward to seeing The Masque, which was staged over the whole of the Battersea Arts Centre. But what started eerily atmospheric and menacing never really went anywhere. The idea is that you happen upon various different parts of the story as you wander round the set, and piece it together as it unfolds around you. In fact the production wasn’t just of Poe’s The Masque of the Red Death, but something like ten of his stories (something I only found out afterwards) and there was never a coherent sense of plot – or really anything much happening that you could make sense of at all. I suppose that was meant to be the point, and I know a lot of people loved it, but I found it increasingly frustrating – a bit of a triumph of style over substance, and too little story spread over too large a (mostly empty, even though beautifully realised) set.

Finally, my djing (well, putting one tune on after the other) debut at the Big Chill Bar, off Brick Lane. Definitely the best-paid two hours I’ve ever worked, and lots of fun, if extremely nervewracking. I suppose the best bit about it was the chance to hear my favourite tunes played out, loudly: I started with some Debussy and ended, of course, with the Wee Papa Girl Rappers. Thanks to Jane for helping me prepare and everyone who came along!

September

I’m clearly going to have to get some tips from friends with blogs. I appear to be fully useless at writing this more than once every other month, and I’ve been keeping a long list of things to write about, most of which I’ve now crossed off: I’ll never catch up if I write a separate post for each one, so I thought I’d do a round-up of last month and the month before, and then see if I can’t get into more regular blogging habits. For shame.

So here’s a lightning-quick summary of September’s stand-out stuff:

First up, the Lord of the Rings musical that I saw with various members of the family, to celebrate Dad’s birthday. This isn’t something I would have chosen to go to myself, I don’t think, and I was a bit sad that it clashed with the online airing of my mystery mix (see previous posts here and here), but I really enjoyed it – and it was certainly a lot better than a lot of its reviews suggested. At times it felt like it was modelling itself too closely on the recent Peter Jackson films – both stylistically and in terms of what was included/omitted, and the story did suffer being condensed so much – but in terms of spectacle it was really something, with a few quite stunning set pieces. The set design and the characters’ acrobatics were breathtaking in places, and the sense of both menace and wonder that you get from the books (and the films, especially the first) really came across. My main criticism (apart from the feyness of the elves, something the films almost entirely avoided) would be that none of the songs were catchy enough: if you leave a musical without whistling at least one of the numbers, then I think something’s been missed somewhere along the way… Still, thanks Dad for a great night out.

And now for something completely different: to the 02 arena (previously the Millennium Dome) for some genuine NHL ice hockey, with the LA Kings playing the Anaheim Ducks in the first of two showcase games to open the season. Canadian friends have pointed out how lucky we were to get some top-flight ice hockey over here – it was the kind of game that would have been difficult (and expensive) to get tickets for in North America. I think it was the first professional sports match I’ve seen live, and it was brilliant fun – a real sense of theatre and excitement, and ice hockey’s a very fast, exciting sport to watch. I was rooting for the Ducks, since they’d recently signed my favourite hockey bad boy, Todd Bertuzzi, but sadly they were defeated. Ah well. Here’s a clip of the national anthem being sung at the match opening. Good times!

Hmm. I must have done more than that in September, but that’s all there appears to be of note.

Tomorrow: October. I promise.

come meditate on bass weight

The last forty-eight hours have been pretty surreal, let’s put it that way. But I’ve got to tell you about how good DMZ was on Saturday, and I have to tell you about my mystery mix tomorrow.

For those not into their (relatively) obscure south London grime sounds,  DMZ is the dubstep collective of Mala, Coki and Loefah, also known as Digital Mystikz (I think I’ve got that right) – all three of whom are DJs and producers – and the bi-monthly night, held at Brixton’s Mass club, that they run. I think it’s fair to say it’s the biggest dubstep night in London at the moment; Plastic People’s FWD>> is weekly, and it’s a great venue, but I think DMZ wins in terms of size and – partly because it’s only every other month – excitement. As an enthusiastic punter I’m certainly loathe to pass up an opportunity to meditate on bass weight at DMZ. Of course it helps that it’s just up the road from my flat.

The thing about dubstep is that, because of the sub-bass, it’s music that isn’t designed to be listened to at home, or on your mp3 player. You have to listen to it played out on a big rig, really, really loud. It has to make the hairs on your arms vibrate, your feet buzz, and your trousers flap around. Or else it’s just not loud enough. So really, DMZ has become, for me, somewhat of an essential event; listening to dubstep mixes (good as they are) at home just doesn’t cut it.  Saturday certainly didn’t disappoint. We got there pretty early; the first DJ wasn’t anything amazing, but then Gothtrad stepped up. Gothtrad sounds so hilariously like the least dubstep name for a DJ you could possibly dream of, but he totally ripped it up. It was very, very dark, really quite fast (getting to jungle speed, maybe faster) and a lot fuller, maybe slightly techno-y sounding, than the quite sparse dubby sound that characterises a lot of the dubstep I’ve heard. I’m not brilliant at describing how music sounds, and I’m only an enthusiastic punter so don’t really know what I’m talking about, but it was really quite a ferocious brand of dubstep. I totally loved it. There was a really good vibe to the night: a lot more of a party than I remember the last one being. Our (relatively small) crew stuck to the back, where there’s more space to dance and plenty of opportunity to actually stick your head into the bassbins should you feel you’re not getting enough. Brilliant. And my current favourite tune, as yet unreleased but (I think) called ‘Spongebob’ (by Coki) got a couple of plays. You can download it here, although 1: you have to sign up (though it’s free) to get it and 2: as it’s been ripped from a Rinse FM show you have to listen to some guy chatting excitably (and inanely) over it the whole way through. That’s dubstep for you. It’s worth it though: it’s truly an immense tune.

If the whole concept of dubstep mystifies you, you might want to check out some of these links: wikipedia’s entry is pretty good I reckon; this BBC documentary gives you a little bit of a taste of the scene; Pitchfork’s ‘the month in grime and dubstep’ columns are are a good primer; and then you can check out various myspace pages for little snippets of what’s going on. Just remember, you’re not going to get it by listening to it on your headphones or through your crappy little PC speakers. At some point you’re going to have to get yourself to a night and listened to it played really, really loudly, so you can feel the sub-bass as much as you can hear it.

What is it about girls and bass anyway?

And now for something completely different. Tomorrow night sees the airing of my mystery mix, as described briefly in this post, on the Big Chill forum. Sadly I can’t be online to tell people they’re wrong/right (and as it’s not got anything obscure on it it’ll probably be the latter), which is a shame as that’s half the fun, but you can join in the guessing here. The mix will be streamed live at 10pm here, but if you miss it, you can download it after 11pm tomorrow evening here (though you have to create an account first). Look for a file called ‘WPGR’s misery mix’ by Wee Papa Girl Rapper. Got it? It’s a pretty downtempo mix, put together back in June when things were a bit wobbly, but I’m really rather pleased with it. I’d love it if you gave it a listen, tried to guess the tracklisting, and tell me what you think. I’ll happily burn a copy and post it to anyone who asks.

we’ve suffered enough

I wish I had the energy to write about last night’s DMZ, but I really don’t (mostly because I was there). It’ll have to wait until tomorrow.

Instead I’ll just briefly mention an album that I’ve been listening to on repeat pretty much all this week: Rise and Doug’s Tanzwa Nekutambura (We’ve Suffered Enough). I heard Rise and Doug completely by chance at this year’s Big Chill Festival (something else I need to write up before it’s a too-distant memory), and their gorgeously chiming guitars have been stuck in my head ever since. Rise Kagona was a member of the Bhundu Boys, the Zimbabwean band that brought ‘world’ music to the UK’s attention back in the eighties – there’s a pretty tragic interview with him here. It’s such a beautifully summery sound; I can’t listen to it without being transported to a sunny field in Herefordshire, dancing barefoot on the grass… Back to urban grittiness, and a full report of DMZ, tomorrow.

the sounds of science

Wow, I’m really quite amazingly rubbish at this blogging thing. I have about eight drafts for things I’ve been meaning to write about but have somehow failed to actually get on and do it. I think I never quite recovered from going to Glastonbury/moving.

Anyway I can’t not write, even just briefly, about the Beastie Boys last night. I’ve been a fan since I was about fifteen I reckon, and this was the first time I saw them live, unbelievably enough. They were absolutely awesome – so much energy, so much fun. I was really pleased by how much of their old stuff they played – I was expecting it to be the new stuff (although I wasn’t even aware, before yesterday, of their new album The Mix Up, which is apparently ‘post-punk instrumentals’ – what kind of a fan am I?) and the big hitters from Ill Communication and Hello Nasty, but they played lots of old favourites. Just brilliant. Of course they ended their encore with ‘Sabotage‘, which almost killed me… we were a bit too close to the front to avoid some quite ridiculous pogoing.

The sound wasn’t particularly brilliant, but it was great to see them at the Brixton Academy – I’ve not been all that many times, but it’s a pretty cool place. Just the right size for that kind of a concert. I think that’s what’s put me off going to see the Beasties before – not wanting to contend with massive venues. Of course if I’d have got tickets I’d be off to the Roundhouse tonight for one of their ‘gala’ gigs, which would be less of a party but perhaps a bit more special…

Updated (in red) setlist: Super Disco Breakin’/Sure Shot/No Sleep Till Brooklyn/Posse in Effect/Time for Livin’/Live at PJ’s/Remote Control/B For My Name/Body Movin’/Ch-Check it Out/Paul Revere/Pass the Mic/Egg Man (I was so pleased they played this one – awesome)/Egg Raid on Mojo/Off the Grid/Suco de Tangerina/Tough Guy/Root Down/Triple Trouble/Hello Brooklyn/So What’cha Want/Three MCs and One DJ/Gratitude/Shamabala/Sabrosa/Heart Attack Man. Encore: Intergalactic/Sabotage

I managed to track down the ones I wasn’t sure of (all new ones, apart from Posse in Effect) from this brilliant Beasties news blog, Mic to Mic, which is worth a click if you’re a fan/would like to see some videos from the night I was there. And here is my favourite Beastie Boys site, a samples and references list for the classic album Paul’s Boutique, and one of the first websites I remember looking at back when I didn’t really know what the Internet was. And here’s a picture I took last night, of everyone’s favourite Beastie Boy, Mike D. Well, he’s my favourite anyway.

pleasure gardens

Apologies for the month in between postings, after only two posts… Things have been rather hectic for me recently, with house moves, holiday and searching for gainful employment all in the mix. Lots to catch up on.

First off, dinner at the Bonnington Café, where my brother took me to cheer me up after a sadder day last month. It’s a community-run, vegetarian café in Vauxhall – local, non-professional types take it in turn to cook. It can be hit and miss foodwise, but it’s a lovely place, set in a really tranquil part of town, good and cheap… After a dinner of noodles Matt and I swung on the swings in Bonnington square, another community-looked-after spot, near the site of the old Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens (’a major feature of London for three centuries; a place of curiosity, promenade and play’). It’s just a small square (the physical space created by bombing in the Second World War), but it’s an unexpectedly beautiful, calm haven in an already surprisingly peaceful part of London. And it has a huge wheel at one end:

 

The wheel at the end of the garden is a classic piece of Industrial Revolution Art dating from the 1860s. It was rescued from a nearby marble factory (under demolition as we were constructing) where it was used to ‘wet cut’ marble. Legend has it that once a year the wheel turns, bringing forth beautiful, crystal clear champagne from the worlds below… a delightful fishing boat that floated above the pergola on a sea of wisteria set sail one midnight eve ne’er to be seen again – but only ever for believers.

There’s something achingly beautiful about gardens at night in summertime, and especially trees. This is a beautiful poem by Elaine Feinstein from her most recent collection of poetry, Talking to the Dead (2007, published by Carcanet) – I heard her and Michael Schmidt read at the launch of their respective books back in March, and have been slowly reading both volumes since.

Moving House

We used to travel light. Grandparents knew
how to pack up and go in a single night,
with house spirits in a shoe.
Three generations on, we’ve lost
the knack.

Watching, from bed, a full moon caught
by nets of leaves in a familiar tree
I thought
while we live here, a planetary fruit
belongs to me.

How can I bear to leave that glow behind?
Walking today, I laugh at the conceit;
the niche we make on earth is all we share.
As for the moon, we’ll find
her everywhere.

If only I could learn to travel light; just tonight I finished bringing up the last of my boxes from the cellar, ready to be moved into my new room on Saturday.