Archive for August, 2007

Event Horizon

Friday, August 17th, 2007

Event Horizon

Not, a spectacular picture, I’ll admit, but as Antony Gormley’s ‘Blind Light’ exhibition comes to a close on Sunday, The Hayward Gallery will be looking back at spectacular ticket sales for the series of (as its website quotes) ‘monumental works specifically designed for The Hayward’s distinctive spaces’.

The most-visited exhibition in the South Bank institution’s 39-year history, it has of course, seen one of the largest-ever public art commissions. Cast-iron statues of the sculptor’s body have been looking out from the rooftops of the high-rises and towers of London landmarks since May.

The ‘Event Horizon’ works have captured the imagination of the general public, with reports of near-suicidal sightings, as bystanders think that the seemingly comatose state, zombie-like figures are real-life jumpers. Littering the South Bank and areas around it, I even spotted one on top of the Freemason’s Hall, which can be seen from our office’s fifth floor terrace.

Trying to spot more of the ‘jumpers’ has been an often-played game on recent evening walks along the favoured stretch of the river. Nestling in-between, and peeping through cranes and window-cleaning cradles, they could be easily mistaken for other rooftop office architecture.

But from Monday, officially all the ‘jumpers’ will have jumped, and the skyline will be given over to the birds, clouds, and planes once more, which will be a shame. If you’re out and about in the capital this weekend, and find yourself near the South Bank, take a look upwards. The London skyline won’t be as engaging again.

Last-minute tickets for the indoor exhibition at The Hayward itself can be bought here.

Gobbledygook

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007

Gobbledygook

Eh? Pardon? Without a doubt, the strangest and most incoherent spam email I have ever received.

Flip Fopp

Tuesday, August 14th, 2007

Does the sun shine on for Fopp?
Does the sun shine on for Fopp?

I was heartened by the news two weeks ago that HMV has bought six of the 105 failed Fopp stores, which suddenly fell silent at the end of June.

Closing for an ‘extraordinary stock take’, some of the shops reopened for cash sales only, before online – and eventually all – trading was halted. The company’s unbelievable story to customers was that it was profitable, but that it couldn’t gain support from stakeholders and suppliers.

Blaming the closures on the slump in CD and rise of online and digital sales, the independent chain had been trading for 25 years, and being a big music junkie, was my favourite record shop. (I know that’s not quite the right term to use, but such shops will always be record shops to us sentimental oldies.) I don’t think I am alone either, in being fond of the budget prices, knowledgeable staff, and sometimes offbeat stock selection.

The £5, £7, and £10 CD offers were the stuff of legend, and there was rarely a time when I didn’t come out of the Shaftsbury Avenue store with a small see-through plastic bag, with that fabled red splodge printed on it. The book and DVD offers were equally as good, and it was one of the only places that still had a select selection of good old-fashioned vinyl.

It even introduced me to new music, just by browsing through the black plastic-divided racks. Lucky Soul sold their charms to me just by a glimpse of their album’s cover, while Charlotte Gainsbourg‘s ’5.55′ got the better of my weighty anticipation pangs in Cambridge. A good part of my joyous Saint Etienne back catalogue was sourced from the first floor of the Shaftsbury Avenue store, too.

A nice brand of store, the shops were always unpretentious and no-nonsense, with industrial-type decor (usually meaning smooth concrete and glass), and genuinely interested indie-type workers who wore only the slightest hint of a uniform. Just like new owners HMV used to be in fact, before the corporate machine and brand took over. And even more like that other bastion of small and independent record shops, Andy’s Records.

I’m disappointed now that I never made it to the recent flagship store in London’s Tottenham Court Road.

HMV states that it wants to keep the Fopp brand and ‘trading culture’ alive, and I’m all for that. I just hope it keeps its promise, and doesn’t let the six newly-resurrected Fopp stores flop once more.

Let’s go fly a kite

Sunday, August 12th, 2007

Nik and the kite
Higher! Higher!

We did this afternoon; up to the highest height, too.

And, although it was little more than a couple of (good quality) plastic bags opened out with twine attached, we eventually sent it soaring into the clear blue Suffolk skies.

And with tubes with which to suck the air from the sometimes fierce wind, once enough twine had been wound out, it was quite impressive. (It did take a while to unpack it and fathom out how and where to attach the string and thread, though.)

It certainly put my early scoffing in its place.

While the almost parachute-like sails were fluttering down the other end of Aldeburgh beach dragging sand skiers behind them, we felt quietly satisfied (and more than a little excited) with our efforts. Our little orange and yellow flyer danced about on the breeze, with its green tails flapping behind it, and even just about changed direction with a quick tug on the controller.

The perfect end to a sunny Sunday afternoon, for those scant 15 minutes or so, we were schoolboys again, with our fists holding tight, to the string of our kite.

The ginger and the red man

Saturday, August 11th, 2007

Broccoli and potato stir fry
Broccoli and potato stir fry

We ate more tasty treats from the garden today.

Freshly-harvested broccoli and recently-plucked potatoes provided the basics for the broccoli and potato stir fry we enjoyed tonight. With a pepper being the only other main ingredient, we could have almost eaten this with crops grown at home.

Unfortunately, the peppers are nowhere near ready yet. And yes, an onion, and some ginger are needed, too, but they’re not that substantial a part, are they?

The getting of the ginger did raise more than a few smiles, though. Worried that I wouldn’t use the rest of a larger piece, we bought one of the smallest knots we could find, only to be very embarrassed when we got to the checkout.

The cashier, clearly seeing the funny side, told us the equally small price.

‘That’ll be 5p, please,’ he said, almost sniggering.

Oh dear. We didn’t need anything else, and thought that the offending piece of root would be at least four times that much.

Undoubtedly flushed, and not wanting to pay with a £20 note, we duly found some change, and rebuffed his clearly pedantic ‘Would you like a bag for that?’ question.