Sunday, 14 September 2014

I'm in my studio

I'm in my studio again for Herts Open Studios 2014 (my listing is no 53). My Swedish man in the moon lantern is smiling away to welcome people (though it's too late for crayfish) and I've just had my first visitor of the day.
     Manning the studio for the advertised hours has brought it home to me that actually I don't spend as much time in here as I could. It's stimulating just being in here, surrounded by all the stuff I've accumulated over the years. Yesterday I got my box of beach pickings out and just handling these strange bits of detritus makes ideas come.
I suddenly seem to be doing several things at once. I'm making a piece from the fragments of reflector I've picked up over the last couple of years -- I still need to wire the pieces to the metal grille:
And I'm working on a little collage which seems to be taking on a rather dark theme. I don't think it will look much like this when it's finished, though.
Nothing is stuck down yet. The moment where you start to stick is the moment of commitment. Not there yet. I'm enjoying myself.

Saturday, 6 September 2014

Hertfordshire Open Studios -- my first time!

End wall of my studio
This afternoon at 2pm I'll be opening the gate at the side of our house and pinning up the signs to point people down to my art studio. It's the first day of Herts Open Studios 2014 and my first ever open studio session.
     I've got tea and biscuits (most importantly) plus loads of paintings, collages, prints and cards. There are the mugs I've designed too. I really hope someone comes and buys one of those as I like them so much.
Framed prints start at £10 for the little ones, going up to £25.

But absolutely no obligation to buy anything, of course. It will just be great to see people.
     These are the times when my studio will be open:

     And if you're in St Albans during September, there's a 'Secret Postcard' art sale by members of Herts Visual Arts Forum, including me, at Courtyard Cafe. Lots of little original artworks, all priced at £20, to raise money for Macmillan Cancer Care. The postcards are on display in a back room, so do ask if you don't immediately find your way to them.

Saturday, 30 August 2014

All the old toys in the world?

We've been up north for a flying visit this week, partly so that we could drop off a couple of boxes of our tin toys at Vectis in Stockton-on-Tees. Vectis is the largest toy auction house in the world and while we were there we were lucky enough to be shown round.
It was breathtakingly vast -- just one huge room after another piled high with toys of every description. It made our tin toy collection seem very insignificant but they were happy to add it in to the vast stock waiting to be sold.
They generally have one or two sales a week and you can go there to bid in person, but it seems most people bid online. When we were there, the day's sale had just finished and they were starting the massive job of packaging all the sold lots up for dispatch to their new owners.
I couldn't linger too long taking photos as I felt we shouldn't take up too much of the (lovely) staff's time. It was very kind of them to take us round (thank you, John). I didn't know where to look next -- there was so much to see. I'll finish with a few more pictures.


John said that old dolls like these are no longer so sought after -- I'll have them...

Tuesday, 26 August 2014

Back from our hols

A perfect idea of a holiday -- in Canterbury (not my holiday, though....)
We've had our summer holiday. It's over. In fact I've been back at work for a week. It was good to have a break, and we did lots of interesting things, but it didn't really match the idyll that I have in my mind when I think of summer holidays (no reading in boats, for a start).
We went for a shabby-chic sort of English holiday, down in Kent. The faded bunting was out in force, the cupcakes, the vintage shops, the cafes with mismatched crockery and wobbly chairs -- all lovely, don't get me wrong, but it does sometimes feel that shabby chic is taking over the country, so that it will become as ubiquitous as the boring old style it was intended to shake up. We rented a house near Folkestone which was lovely in every respect apart from the fact that it was suffering from 'Keep Calm and Carry On' overkill -- every mug and cushion emblazoned with 'Keep Calm and Relax'; three identical canvases in the kitchen with slogans about the Queen and cream teas; driftwood hearts and so many rustic seagulls and fishes on stands that we had to hide a few of them away. The strings of miniature wooden flipflops on the landing were almost the last straw but we bore their febrile clatter with gritted teeth -- we kept calm and carried on.
funny window display in Rye -- I covet that Pinocchio...
Even though lightning lit up the house on more than one occasion and monsoon rain drew us to the back of the house to stand under the corrugated plastic roof and listen to the amazing noise it made, we managed to dodge the bad weather and never actually got rained on (apart from a very ill-advised five minutes on the beach in a storm discovering that none of our raincoats are actually waterproof).
Sad union jack and lucky horseshoe in Rye
I'm not going to do a blow-by-blow account of the holiday, you'll be relieved to hear: I think hearing in detail about other people's holidays is probably nearly as boring as hearing about their dreams (although I've been very guilty of the blow-by-blow holiday account myself, I know. I've learnt). I'll leaven the mix with plenty of photos.
Cut-out clown at the amusement arcade in Hastings
We just had a nice time going to a different town each day and raking round. First we made a beeline for Paul and Karen Rennie's beautiful Seaside Modern shop in Folkestone's Creative Quarter. The last time (also the first time) I was here, it was the weekend of my 'Holiday with Martin Parr' courtesy of the School of Life and Martin Parr himself came in while I was enjoying a conversation with Paul Rennie. As he wanted to take Paul's photo, the conversation came to an abrupt halt, so I was pleased to find Paul in the shop again this time and to be able to introduce D as well (the kids lurked outside). I don't know whether Paul remembered me from the last time, perhaps with a sinking heart. He is a very charming man and D and I revere him to the point of fandom but he was in a somewhat dark mood, it seemed. My attempts to strike up suitably aesthetic topics of conversation kept turning black -- it might have helped if we had bought something from the shop but we are trying to divest ourselves of some of our accumulated stuff at the moment, not acquire more. I don't think it was us (at least I hope not) but rather the sombre days we're currently living through.
The Towner in Eastbourne
Our next beeline was to the Towner Gallery in Eastbourne to see the Peggy Angus exhibition. Before we went in we had lunch in the cafe and bumped into a friend from my book group with her family. It doesn't matter where we go on holiday, I always seem to bump into someone I know. I suspect the odds can't be as long as I think they are of this happening or it wouldn't happen so frequently -- but I love the feeling of weird coincidence.
I've borrowed this photo from http://nillyhall-maidinkent.blogspot.co.uk/ -- very nice blog, worth checking out
I enjoyed the Peggy Angus. The photo of Peggy in her Camden Studio was almost my favourite thing -- the above magazine spread was the only copy of it I could find. The picture hanging on the wall in the photo was in the exhibition and somehow looked better in the photo than in the flesh. Angus wasn't an absolutely first-rate painter but she belongs in with Bawden and Ravilious and sits well alongside them. She really found her gift in her wallpaper, fabric and tile designs which are strong and rhythmic and very fresh. She was also an inspirational art teacher and did some very ambitious murals with her pupils. Her life was one of socialist leanings, shading into the slightly naive communist sympathising that so many idealistic young people shared early in the 20th century. From the photos of her in the show and the events that she was involved with, she seems to have been a genuine egalitarian and an instinctive feminist during a period when women didn't always manage to be treated as equal to men. I came away having added a new name to my list of loved early-20th-century artists.
Also while we were in Eastbourne we stopped off to see the poor pier, ruined by fire.

Hastings is almost my favourite of the south-coast towns. If you like vintage (and I do, I do, in spite of my outburst above), it has the best vintage shops, including the excellent and unusual Hendy's Home Stores (closed on the day we visited).
We went to a very strange cafe for lunch -- Fawlty Towers-esque in its struggle to serve a simple meal. I won't name names but the soup was off, the jacket potatoes were off, there were no rolls, no chicken ... the list of what was off was longer than what was on. I was going to have a tuna mayonnaise sandwich and clearly the mayonnaise was nearly off too as we saw our waitress sprinting out of the cafe and returning a couple of minutes later with a big jar of mayonnaise! As we were asked to pay without being given a bill or a receipt, I cooked up a whole fantasy scenario about the waitress and chef having opened up the place while the boss was away to try to make a bit of cash on the side, but without buying any supplies. Just my over-active imagination, though, I'm sure.

Best secondhand shop in Hastings was Robert's Rummage, complete with grumpy Robert spouting sexist stuff about his wife and women in general -- quite entertaining if you don't get offended by such things.
I really like the Jerwood Gallery in Hastings too. They have a good drawing exhibition on at the moment (until 15th October 2014). And I like the rattly little miniature train that goes by underneath the gallery windows and the views out to the blackened beach where the old boats are pulled up.
Not everyone loves the Jerwood, it seems
We discovered that Hythe was a good place with interesting military history and a canal that was designed to keep Napoleon out of England. Now it has water lilies growing on it.
Hythe war memorial was particularly moving, with its low-relief sculptures:
We walked along the canal to Sandgate (halfway to Folkestone). There was an interesting pop-up museum about H.G. Wells, who came to live in Sandgate for his health and had a house designed by Voysey built for him there. Lots of interesting writers came down to visit him, including George Gissing, after a character of whose we named our daughter.
Superior sandwiches and drinks at Loaf in Sandgate -- worth a stop. Finding the loo is like immersive theatre...
A man having his ears looked at in Sandgate:
There was Rye, too. Rye is gorgeous but just a little too aware of that fact. It is so Mapp-and-Lucia-ed up it can barely breathe. Enough already! The place needs to let go a little.
Old plank in Rye -- now you've spoiled it...

There was a great vinyl place in the centre of Rye, Grammar School Records. I could have spent all day in there.
Nearly all our forays involved trundling along the A259 where, on a fairly sharp bend near Brookland you'll see a sign for 'brocante'. This is 'Hoof Salvage', a wonderfully strange place straight out of a Scandi-noir set but actually full of French secondhand stuff. Very nice owner who commutes between Kent and Central France. Mostly open towards the end of the week and weekends, I think.
     We had a special meal out at Rocksalt in Folkestone and sat in the window right beside a huge bamboo structure that was being built for Folkestone Triennial, which is about to start. It's called the 'Electric Line' and is by Gabriel Lester. I have to say I don't like it at all -- I find it forbidding and over-busy, a cage for jungle prisoners. While we were eating our meal, some big naughty boys had climbed inside and were delighted to be watched by us. Later on they left, giving us the evil eye as they went past the restaurant -- it spooked me. The local paper doesn't seem sure about the sculpture either.
     Well that's nearly all I have to tell, apart from the fact that we had one hour in Rochester on the way home and one hour was nowhere near enough to see all that was to be seen in a wonderful old town. I'll definitely have to go back, if only for Baggins Books, a vast secondhand bookshop.
 I would like to spend more time in Kent with less of a feeling of panic about too much to see and too little time to see it in: more reading in boats, less rummaging next time.

Sunday, 20 July 2014

How many notebooks do you need..?


'Make Hey!' notebook by Pip Lincolne (nice Aussie designer). Current no. 1 unused notebook
Do you love to buy a nice notebook when you see one? I do. Do you say to yourself, 'You can never have too many nice notebooks' or 'A nice notebook will always come in handy'? I do. Do you go to lovely shops and exhibitions and think, 'Oh everything is so expensive but I could just get a nice notebook to remember the day by'? I do. Do you have a large box overflowing with nice notebooks, some that you feel are just too nice to use? And some that are no longer nice enough? I do.
Extra nice Peter Blake notebook from the Holburne Museum in Bath -- always interesting
I admit that I'm a notebook addict. And a diary addict. It can't be right to have eight unused diaries from past years -- although I fully intend to use them when the right combination of dates and days comes around again.

In fact, for anyone else with this problem, here's a handy guide:
Upcoming year:     Use diary from:
2015                        2009 (You have to watch out for leap years as well as what day the year starts on)
2016                        1988
2017                        2006 or 1995
2018                        2007 or 2001
2019                        2013 or 2002
2020                        1992

Great, by the end of the decade I'll have had the opportunity to re-use two whole diaries! Who knew years were so pernickety! Actually I make my own diary each year now, so, let's face it, they are never going to get used.
This is my current diary
But the notebooks, the notebooks. They're so seductive, with their cool, creamy pages and covers that invite you to jump in to another existence.
I love this trash-paperback-sized beauty by Rose Gridneff
The one below has a plain cover, but the pages consist of offcuts from Hato Press -- beautiful, and too good to write in...
They go on... and on...
And those are only the ones I've picked out. There are more...
It needs to stop. But it probably won't. Have you got a paper habit?