7th November 2011 - 4 sound samples from the nocturnal field of E17 dubbed together in imperfect harmony for Lost and Found in E17's, Music for Dead Hares series.
As Field Study's Man in E17, I recently discovered The Dead Hare Radio Hour .
Tuesday, 8 November 2011
Friday, 4 November 2011
Thursday, 3 November 2011
Tuesday, 1 November 2011
a field student of temperature checks
St Paul's Cathedral - Protest Site, 31/10/11.
St Pauls Cathedral has an 'offer of the moment' of over 600 posters, each for sale at £2. The poster view is of a scene decidedly less busy than it was this afternoon as protesters and tourists flocked about the west end of the cathedral. Perhaps there will be a souvenir protest issue.
The video features one of the protesters involving all and sundry in the art of protest camp management and media relations. There were several speakers who delivered briefings on various aspects of the protest. Some of the national newspapers are reporting on the situation as a fiasco, farcical, a laughing stock and a national joke.
I imagined for a moment one of the speakers calling out, 'Afternoon campers. Hi de hi'. Of course they didn't. The protest is motivated for some by serious issues. Some people have lost/resigned their jobs because of the handling of the protest, and the protest is addressing much more serious issues further afield. So it should be no laughing matter. 'Sit-in-com' it is not or so I thought. I chuckled a little as the speaker asked 'anyone here from supplies, can you put your hands up, anyone here from shelter...?' as some characters in Halloween garb emerged from a tent, and a man posed with some saucily satirical paintings featuring David Cameron et al. The police were in attendance around the protest camp site; many of them, it seemed, judging by their yawns, were thoroughly bored with the site admin' briefings. I left thinking the situation has the makings of a very British carry on.
Friday, 28 October 2011
a field student of killing times in Primrose Hill
Killing Time in Primrose Hill
Recently, while working around London’s very affluent Primrose Hill, I heard a voice I recognized as Will Self’s. I may have been mistaken. Whoever the voice belonged to declared, ‘we’ve still got half an hour to kill’. I turned around and saw a man I recognized as Will Self. I may have been mistaken. I started to approach the stranger to speculatively congratulate him on his broadcasts for the ‘A Point of View’ series on BBC Radio 4. I hesitated. Fawning genuflecting attention (idolatry even) would not be welcome, I reckoned, to a man of his class of intellect and creativity.
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I imagined this encounter.
“Begging your pardon, Mr Self, sir. If it is indeed you, Mr Self, sir? (He appears not to deny it). I may have presumed, Mr Self, sir. Presumed sir, to congratulate you, sir, for your most recent wireless disquisition, sir. ‘Gawd’ bless you, Mr Self, sir”.
“Why?”
“Ah, er, yes, quite, er, good point, Mr Self, sir”.
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I carried on with the very repetitive work, checking the time frequently, willing it and the work to pass quickly. It seemed as if the gentleman I heard had thought better of the malice aforethought and decided not to kill any time. I looked around for an exquisite corpse of time, the cadaver of half an hour outlined in chalk on the pavement at the loose end of Regent’s Park Road. My watch stayed reassuringly solid; it did not, as I feared, melt and drip from my wrist. Time, that sunny Friday afternoon along Regent’s Park Road continued uninterrupted and paradoxically at a leisurely or leisured pace for some. The air of Primrose Hill alfresco was replete with 24 claret laced chat, some of it possibly about Mr Self’s points of view.
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How does Will Self’s recent point of view, (21st Oct') about race, class and social mobility take in the cultural vista of that well heeled locale? Who lives and works in Primrose Hill and what are its identity politics? The BBC had yet to broadcast Self’s race/class reflection when I was traipsing around the hill in my nearly new white £29.99 Nike trainers with bright red trim and laces; yes, bright red laces, which set off alarms and winces as I stepped over the thresholds of the assorted boutiques and posh eateries to beg a favour of the proprietors. Heck! St George’s trainers. What was I thinking when I bought them after nearly two years of saving 40p a week? Ra Quel faux pax Rodders! I thought it was the malodor of my rotting gums and crumbling teeth or the miasma of my plebeian underarms that elicited polite grimaces accompanied by terse dismissals including the occasional waft of the hand; the latter meaning, I think, please leave quickly you ‘oik’. To be fair to the more egalitarian contingent of Primrose Hill, not all the responses were as dismissive. I considered going into every outlet to make the polite request; including outlets I know from experience would say no. Why? I could, if I were not in such a hurry to get out of there, to get the job over and done with, enjoy the proprietorial expressions of violation and trespass. Ha ha! Did you seriously think I thought you would say yes, you stuck up ******? Sometimes, following a “no”, I have retorted, politely and with good humour, “oh, why not?” “Because we don’t”, has been the usual perfunctory and dead-end response. Their honesty would be refreshing.
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I have to make it clear, I am not at liberty to disclose the full details and nature of my work because it is regarded as commercially sensitive. There may be a fantastic 'psychogeographical' trace of my placing around and about Primrose Hill and St John's Wood about which I can say little more. Like many, I do find my work something of a drudge at times, although I certainly value having a job and don’t wish to compromise this good fortune. I think it is fair and safe to say the work is low paid and does not require a great deal of technical skill. Returning to Will Self’s provocation, I’m wondering about the complexities of that Primrose Hill afternoon. What was I, in relation to others, as I went about my work? How baffling is the societal maze of Primrose Hill or any other district? May be this is just a very middle class, chatty question and dilemma except that working people tend to live where their pay affords. I doubt I could afford how and where I live in Walthamstow transposed to Primrose Hill.
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Social status or class is a very gendered and complicated matter especially when various identity factors, such as race, are considered in relation. Will Self discussed the issue of status in relation to race (especially dual heritage) and class. He forthrightly cited the identification of youths, on his home-turf of Stockwell, with President Barack Obama. Plummeting from such stratospheric realms of power, what sort of reception would they get if given (or when getting) the work I did that afternoon? In response to Self’s critique I thought about George Bernard Shaw’s, Pygmalion, and the central character, Eliza Doolittle, who is supposedly transformed from a lowly Cockney flower girl to a high society lady by elocution lessons. Then there is the comic and tragic appropriation of a racial stereotype by Gene Wilder, with Richard Pryor’s ironic tuition, in StirCrazy. Closer to home, in the way of Sue Townsend’s, The Queen and I, ‘Her Majesty’, along with many others from over-priced public subsidy is, in the craziest of my dreams, upping sticks to move into a council house in E17 and is very generously insisting on the London Living Wage for her right royal services.
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Will Self opined ‘the reasons for being at the bottom of the heap are manifold’. He listed class, family, education, money and race. What about adding sex, age, and free will? If two people are each earning the same low wage (below or at e.g. the 2011 London Living Wage of £8.30 per hour) can one of them make a claim for living in poverty (more than the other) e.g. on the basis of having a different (more difficult) family background? Might a good education and positive family relations alleviate the effects of a subsistence income? This may have been the point of the emphasis on the mediating 'and' rather than 'or' when presenting his point of view.
What was that? I have just finished reading, timequake, (Kurt Vonnegut) or so I thought for I seem to be back at the beginning. Holy Kilgore Trout! Has there been a timequake? Is this a rerun? Was I writing this before? I blame the free will of Mr Self for tinkering with time. Only kidding! The BBC will be broadcasting repeats (reruns!) a lot more in the foreseeable and ‘forehearable’ future. Get this; I’m imagining Will Self’s hand rolled smoky tones beaming out from the rerunning parallel universe of the BBC while in fact (fiction) he is down at the job centre.
“Ah, Mr Self, I see you have put ‘psychogeographer’ in your work experience. We’ve got just the job for you”.
Monday, 24 October 2011
Sunday, 23 October 2011
a field student of cinesthetics
As 'Field Study's Man in E17', I present another blurred and fuzzy highlight in the gripping (I wish) nostalgia of my E17 Art Trail 2011- a visit to the open house of Sarah Nicolls, for a Sunday afternoon of 'cinesthetics'; a fantastic multi-media meld of contemporary, classical, and jazz music, in the packed to capacity venue which was Sarah Nicolls' Ritchings Avenue sitting room. Sarah Nicolls played piano to a film projection. Sarah also performed with her inside out piano. There were also performances by Lucy Russell (on violin) and by jazz duo, Tribunal (on drums and saxophone). If I heard correctly, Sarah Nicolls and her partner were about to move out of the area so alas there may not be another musical intervention with a remade piano on any future E17 Art Trail.
This post is, in part, another comment on, or observation of, how artists adapted places, physically and otherwise, in order to participate in the E17 Art Trail. In a sense the state of being 'inside-out' is a fitting metaphor for the artist's adaptations.
Sarah Nicolls' E17 Art Trail listing is here, with a picture of the inside out piano and a link to her web site.
A ceiling eye view of Sarah on the 'inside out', courtesy of Mark Burton, can be viewed here
Sarah Nicolls
Lucy Russell
Tribunal
Lucy Russell played the Chaconne (or Ciaconna) from J S Bach's, Partita No.2 for Solo Violin in D minor. Here are some quick links to just a few of YouTube's library of Ciaconnas; including Isaac Stern, Sigiswald Kuijken, and Arthur Grumiaux. The latter is my favourite. I think Lucy played the piece at quite a fast tempo, though it might sound very different as a recording given the acoustic nature of the venue and event - the space, all the bodies, furnishings, pianos and drums and so on, let alone the particular qualities of the instrument she played. There was some mention of a recording being made. The performance by Lucy Russell was very visceral, and the same can be said of Sarah Nicolls' performance at her inside out piano. Playing the piano keys with her left hand, she plucked, rubbed and tapped at the exposed strings of the eviscerated upright to create an eerie and plaintive ambience. Jazz dudes, Tribunal, stomped in with a few up beat numbers to lighten the mood, adding a bit of tonic to the gin very hospitably and generously plied at the start.
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