Friday, 26 October 2012
Friday, 19 October 2012
I've been reading up on the Stones and have read Keith's autobiography as well as Stanley Booth's and Robert Greenfield's great books about touring America with the Stones. And I've watched Gimme Shelter (a documentary film about Altamont) and also Performance, in which Mick stars with Anita Pallenberg (just couldn't see it as a 'modern classic' though). And I've gorged on the music. The film last night was an amalgamation of all of those elements, brilliantly edited together into a really powerful wave of imagery and sound. The amazing energy that the Stones unleashed in their fans was terrifying -- far more destructive than punk, really. It was completely anarchic and primal. I think the band themselves were frightened by their own power, but then they got on top of it and used it, distancing themselves from reality in various ways. If they hadn't, they probably would have gone insane or died, like Brian Jones. I absolutely love Mick Jagger, especially in his early incarnations. He personifies male beauty to me.
Monday, 15 October 2012
|Peter Blake's watercolour of the Queen -- it looked like oil paint. Lovely work|
|Here's how to add value to charity shop glass...|
|Detail of Fiona Tan's wall of other people's photos (also below)|
Sunday, 14 October 2012
I liked the Canada Water Library building, where the sketchbooks were on display. It felt as though the curving staircase might lead to heaven:
a lot of personal stuff into it, and it was quite hard parting with it last year. Alas, my book couldn't be found and didn't come up on their search system. I was very sad about this, perhaps out of proportion to the actuality. I felt my book and its emotional content were adrift, lost. I had to try to get over that feeling quickly as it was disproportionate to the actual situation. I ordered up a different sketchbook to look at but they never called me up to get it. The system of ordering up a book to look at just didn't work in my view -- surely most people don't want to look at specific books but just to peruse as many different books as possible. There were thousands of books neatly shelved behind the desk, but you couldn't get at them. No wonder my book has only been looked at three times -- it's like a lucky dip where the prizes are grains of rice. I confess I got quite down while I was there -- there was such a strong contrast between the lovely promise of all those sketchbooks and the arid reality of queuing to ask to see just one random book at a time (or I think you could ask to see two at a time but I didn't see any!).
photography exhibition. It showcases the work of twelve photographers who were working in the Sixties and Seventies. I liked William Eggleston's work the best.
The Queen of Versailles, spotting a man taking a stroll along a crane on the way:
All in all, it wasn't the best day I've had in London (it didn't help that about a third of the entire Tube system was closed) but, as always, I tried to get as much out of it as possible. I like this rather Richter-like photo that I got by accident:
|Canada Water tube station|
|Huge structure at the bottom of a building site in the City -- you can't see the scale of this. It was like the Coliseum.|
Thursday, 4 October 2012
|my pictures on someone else's wall!|
There was a great prize of a week's summer school at Sir John Soane's Museum, which I would have loved to win. I was shortlisted, which made me very happy, even if I didn't actually win the prize. The gentleman who made the announcement did call me 'John Housham' (then corrected himself) -- my kids are now calling me John, to their delight. Obviously this is to be an ongoing curse. First Mavis, now John. But I was very thrilled to get a mention at all.