UN FUNK BLEU DANS LE NOIR

In a bit of a blue funk last week after losing my camera...alas, there'll be no posts from the post-industrial grime of Stoke-on-Trent's amazing potteries, Warwick Castle, my collage exhibition in Bethnal Green or the annual Oxford/Cambridge Thames boat race...for shame. Harrumph and fiddlesticks and a big eff off to the turnip who trousered it around the mean streets of Hammersmith on their way to see The Boat Race.

Reflecting my black temperament, I'm posting more luddite fone pics from Antony McCall's show at the Ambika P3 gallery on London's Marylebone Street. This huge space - the old construction workshop of the University of London's engineering department - was pitch black, punctuated by three shards of white light projected from the (what seemed like) storeys-high ceiling. These simple projected shapes moved gradually on the ground, creating stark, triangular forms, made visible by regular pumps from the smoke machine. Difficult to photograph and even more difficult to describe...I'll just say the work created an eerie, almost religious feeling, visitors compelled to lounge about on the floor, gazes transfixed toward heaven, like a warehouse rave for adults minus the krazy glowstix and dreaded lockjaw comedown.

After, my date and I maintained the blacker than black vibe with a visit to Dans Le Noir, the Clerkenwell restaurant staffed by blind waiters where diners eat in a completely dark room. The height of pretentious London gastronomy-wank you cry? Never fear, dear readers, the concept actually aims to allow diners some empathetic insight into the blind persons' experience and proved to be, in fact, rather an emotional ride. Being immediately disoriented the moment we were led into the dining room, hands on shoulders by our lovely Australian waiter Carl, its amazing the sense of vulnerability and helplessness that descends as you gingerly hobble along, banging knees against chairs and cracking elbows against walls as you desperately try to make sense of the strange surroundings. Very rapidly I learnt to listen hard to Carl's soothing voice and trust his direction. Eventually a sort of confidence emerged as I adapted to the pitch black room and started to enjoy the cacophony of surrounding conversation and delicious smells. A strange sense of liberation came with the realisation you are no longer subject to 'the other's gaze and can indulge in complete gluttony under cover of total anonymity - a must for all you builimics out there. Your menu remains a mystery until after the meal - heightening diners' dependence on the other senses to decipher exactly what the devil you're munching on. Its inevitable your grubby mits get deployed whats more - five consecutive forkfulls of peas and air do not a three course meal make.

Read more on the the Dans Le Noir website here.

OLD SCHOOL TECHNOLOGY

Its amazing really, how easy it is to create some interesting imagery even using the most basic, crappy old  mobile phone - no iphone apps or Photoshop, just pure and simple old-school luddite technology. These ones were taken around 11pm on my walk home after seeing the excellent film Inside Job. I now know a lot more about leverages, Reganomics and why Alan Greenspan's a knob...which I must admit is extremely exciting.

A BOOK ABOUT DEATH

I was lucky enough to make the acquaintance of Paris-based American artist Matthew Rose after visiting his Scared But Fresh exhibition at Bloomsbury's Orange Dot Gallery in October 2010. Matthew specialises in beautiful, retro inspired collage-based works, which can be viewed and purchased on his website here.

Mr Rose additionally conceived the idea for A Book About Death - an exhibition of postcard art from all corners of the world, first shown in New York City in 2009. Inspired by the 1950s/60s mail art of Ray Johnson and the New York Correspondence School (read more here), this year's show features international postcard works based on the theme of DEATH. The concept culminates in an exhibition at the Willo North Gallery, in Phoenix, Arizona in 3rd to 28th May. The show is being organised by artist Patricia Sahertian, whose blog about the show (here) features a catalogue of the pieces submitted so far.

My entry into the show is this collage below and further details about the work can be found here.

Death (c) 2011

WHOLE LOTTA HOVE

I had another opportunity yesterday to admire the beautiful Victorian curves of Brighton station (below) on the way to visit my dear, dear friend, artist Mrs Gillian Trundle-Hepplewhite.

Gillian lives in the grandiose Palmeira Square area of Hove, in a lovely art deco inspired flat with her original Northern Soul hipster and builder husband John. Goldsmiths alumni Gillian agreed to give me a crash course in screen printing, but not before I took the grand tour of their amazing living space full of exotic wares she had accumulated over the years...

Along with the stylish accessories like the vintage Mickey Mouse and beautiful modernist carved bust above, Gill and John's house was full of hip period detail like the elegant curved wall and neutral-toned, minimalist, marblised shower below.

The upper levels of the property contained a number of skylights, the master bedroom featuring an enchanting view towards the pretty St. John the Baptist Church perched on the Western end of the regency-era Palmeira Square (below). Gill's flat sits in a brilliant location, the beautiful church up the northern end of her street, while Hove's lovely seafront lies at the southern end, a matter of a few minutes walk away. 

Gill and John's outdoor space included this beautiful solid vintage sun dial below and other small but perfectly formed accessories.

Gill showed me some fine examples of her screen printing work, inspired by John's northern soul roots and his enormous vinyl collection which runs into the many hundreds. The stark, detailed print below is a post-modern tribute to the music obsessive and a nice interpretation of the numerous nights spent under the Hepplewhite roof way past midnight with the turntables turned up to 11... 

Gill's other obsession is the retro graphics and art deco aesthetics so integral to the city of Miami and the Florida Keys area. The influence is clear in pretty, stylised prints like this hip one below.

We finally got down to brass tacks with a run-through of the basics of screen printing a simple stencil. Gill let me down gently by informing me that the crappy vintage silk screen frame I had picked up at a garage sale in Australia for $8 wasn't up to the job...however my squeegee was the business so all was not lost. We did a few simple prints - featuring a crude rendering of Gill's favourite symbol - and viola!...a few very, I mean VERY rough images emerged. Luckily Gill was still smiling despite that crimson paint threatening to go all over her beautiful new kitchen fittings.

After all that hard work, it was off for a twilight stroll around Hove's grand Palmeira Square. The descending sun created a beautiful sunset over the wooden beach huts as the square gradually illuminated with cosy, warm hues eminating from luxurious lounge and dining rooms. The grand, spacious flats seemed to be full of idiosyncratic furnishings and characterful charm, the rainy pavements reflecting a magical, opulent ambience. Not a single stick of Brighton Rock to be seen...gotta love Hove.

I DON'T LIKE MONDAYS...ANYMORE THAN I LIKE BOB, PEACHES OR PIXIE GELDOF

Just beginning the long, cold descent into another dark night of the soul...followed by another long wintery week of work. Fiddlesticks, harrumph and yawn.

I've been entertaining myself today by busting out a few collages, even though I should have been working on that albatross of a job application. The fact is when 'the muse' speaks one is as powerless to resist as the ancient Greeks were to the sirens' song, try as I might to tie myself to the bed and drip melted wax into my ears...

Below are the fruits of my labour, with thanks to my favourite store, St Vincent De Paul, Katoomba branch. That hour I spent over Christmas feverishly leafing through vintage wildlife & train periodicals and the $3 I eventually spent turning out to be a wise investment indeed. Yawn.