TV Oh dear, it's an attack by the deadly Sigur Ros. Hankies at the ready, and ...
Happy Birthday, Doctor. You don't look a day over a thousand and forty-nine, oh err, six-hundred and three, um, nine hundred and seven? [via]
Liverpool Biennial 2010: Feedback: The Bad Stuff.
Art Heavy sigh. Having spent the best part of three months being upbeat about the festival and trying desperately to be its ambassador as best I can, I think it’s only fair, now that it’s nearly over to offer a slight post-mortem on what didn’t work, the frustrations, the annoyances. Note before reading this that I accept this won’t be everyone’s experience and also that people have different standards, are potentially more patient about some of these things than me. I know. I know. And so, in order of annoyance from top to bottom. Let's get this over with quickly shall we?
Maps
Across the years, the Biennial maps have been of variable quality. In 2004 they were so broken I actually had to create a key for myself so that I could find out which other venues where even open in a given area. In terms of the International venues, this year’s was the best yet with big red numbered dots and a clear key as to the locations of the Touched venues and public realm works (even if I spent over half an hour on the first day trying to find the gable end of 24 Fleet Street).
Hidden in amongst those however were the green spots of the SQUAT venues, unnumbered and entirely confusing. Although generally bunched together on the likes of Seel Street some of these green spots didn’t seem to correspond to a venue at all, and although a ferret through the Biennial catalogue usual brought some indication of what I might be looking for I’d argue that finding an exhibition space shouldn’t be an act of detective work. On one occasion I was so exhausted by the time I got there I wasn't much in the mood to look at the work.
Information
Or more specifically a lack of consistent signage. Whilst I had a magical day on Seel Street visiting the SQUAT and Independent venues, I missed a couple more because I hadn’t realised the otherwise normal looking house or whatever was an art venue to and not happening by when it was actually open. Part of the problem with the map could have been solved if some kind of logo had been placed on the front of a given building indicating that this was part of the Biennial too and which strand. The official Biennial wasn't entirely immune to this as my odyssey around the Black-E demonstrates.
And in this new world, when people have less time to themselves, the more information they have about what to expect at these ad-hoc venues the better. There’s nothing more dispiriting than walking miles only to be confronted with a video work you don’t have time to watch all of the way through or a tiny exhibition containing a few paintings. I know this isn’t just true of the Biennial, but a festival that prides itself on being dipped in and out of should at least be able to say if something can be seen in a lunchtime.
Noise
Too often my experience of an exhibition was spoilt by the ambient noise. Sometimes this was due to the poor placement of a work, complex video art in an essentially public place were the noise of life outside meant that it was sometimes impossible to give my full attention to a work. Sometimes it was other visitors, quiet moments with paintings ruined by someone standing nearby with a mobile phone. None of which can be helped.
But sometimes, in fact often if I’m being honest, it was the staff. When I worked as an invigilator one of the things I was very conscious of was making sure that the visitor wasn’t disturbed from the reason they were visiting, the art. But over and over again I’d be unable to hear a video piece or I’d have my concentration blown because of gossip or some meeting or other about the internal workings of the venue and in one case the invigilator conducting a long, loud mobile phone conversation that reverberated around the building.
Am I being intolerant? Probably. Just unlucky? Maybe and I should add that my experience of the invigilators in some venues was exemplary, especially when they were obviously passionate about the work and keen to make me passionate too. When you're travelling about the Biennial alone, this can often be the only human interaction you have all day and in most cases it was very welcome. On a couple of occasions I even questioned my own customer service abilities because they didn't match up.
But there at two venues in particular the staff were especially insensitive and I had to leave a section of an exhibition in the case of one and the venue in total in the other because I was just wasting my time. How do you broach a subject like this? Can you stop screeching about so that I can listen properly to how this woman lost her baby, please? The presentation of an artist’s work isn’t just about bricks and mortar but the whole experience and I just don't think a visitor shouldn’t be expected to make these kinds of allowances.
Conclusion
Again, please take this criticism in the spirit within which it was meant and with the proviso that I'm not the best navigator, have a habit of overlooking things and can be pretty cantankerous for my age. I just thought it important for the purposes of this blog to give an overall picture of the experience but to do so outside all of the opinionating about the art. None of this was enough to spoil my experience of the Biennial as a whole. This has been a magical, magical time, as I'll explain when I write about the good stuff.
Maps
Across the years, the Biennial maps have been of variable quality. In 2004 they were so broken I actually had to create a key for myself so that I could find out which other venues where even open in a given area. In terms of the International venues, this year’s was the best yet with big red numbered dots and a clear key as to the locations of the Touched venues and public realm works (even if I spent over half an hour on the first day trying to find the gable end of 24 Fleet Street).
Hidden in amongst those however were the green spots of the SQUAT venues, unnumbered and entirely confusing. Although generally bunched together on the likes of Seel Street some of these green spots didn’t seem to correspond to a venue at all, and although a ferret through the Biennial catalogue usual brought some indication of what I might be looking for I’d argue that finding an exhibition space shouldn’t be an act of detective work. On one occasion I was so exhausted by the time I got there I wasn't much in the mood to look at the work.
Information
Or more specifically a lack of consistent signage. Whilst I had a magical day on Seel Street visiting the SQUAT and Independent venues, I missed a couple more because I hadn’t realised the otherwise normal looking house or whatever was an art venue to and not happening by when it was actually open. Part of the problem with the map could have been solved if some kind of logo had been placed on the front of a given building indicating that this was part of the Biennial too and which strand. The official Biennial wasn't entirely immune to this as my odyssey around the Black-E demonstrates.
And in this new world, when people have less time to themselves, the more information they have about what to expect at these ad-hoc venues the better. There’s nothing more dispiriting than walking miles only to be confronted with a video work you don’t have time to watch all of the way through or a tiny exhibition containing a few paintings. I know this isn’t just true of the Biennial, but a festival that prides itself on being dipped in and out of should at least be able to say if something can be seen in a lunchtime.
Noise
Too often my experience of an exhibition was spoilt by the ambient noise. Sometimes this was due to the poor placement of a work, complex video art in an essentially public place were the noise of life outside meant that it was sometimes impossible to give my full attention to a work. Sometimes it was other visitors, quiet moments with paintings ruined by someone standing nearby with a mobile phone. None of which can be helped.
But sometimes, in fact often if I’m being honest, it was the staff. When I worked as an invigilator one of the things I was very conscious of was making sure that the visitor wasn’t disturbed from the reason they were visiting, the art. But over and over again I’d be unable to hear a video piece or I’d have my concentration blown because of gossip or some meeting or other about the internal workings of the venue and in one case the invigilator conducting a long, loud mobile phone conversation that reverberated around the building.
Am I being intolerant? Probably. Just unlucky? Maybe and I should add that my experience of the invigilators in some venues was exemplary, especially when they were obviously passionate about the work and keen to make me passionate too. When you're travelling about the Biennial alone, this can often be the only human interaction you have all day and in most cases it was very welcome. On a couple of occasions I even questioned my own customer service abilities because they didn't match up.
But there at two venues in particular the staff were especially insensitive and I had to leave a section of an exhibition in the case of one and the venue in total in the other because I was just wasting my time. How do you broach a subject like this? Can you stop screeching about so that I can listen properly to how this woman lost her baby, please? The presentation of an artist’s work isn’t just about bricks and mortar but the whole experience and I just don't think a visitor shouldn’t be expected to make these kinds of allowances.
Conclusion
Again, please take this criticism in the spirit within which it was meant and with the proviso that I'm not the best navigator, have a habit of overlooking things and can be pretty cantankerous for my age. I just thought it important for the purposes of this blog to give an overall picture of the experience but to do so outside all of the opinionating about the art. None of this was enough to spoil my experience of the Biennial as a whole. This has been a magical, magical time, as I'll explain when I write about the good stuff.
"emotional data"
History The Royal Society's lost women scientists. Richard Holmes reveals how humanity's advancement has effectively been slowed by academia's patronising attitude to women. Here's how astonomer William Herschel annotated his sister's historic paper on discovering new comets:
"Since my sister's observations were made by moonlight, twilight, hazy weather, and very near the horizon, it would not be surprising if a mistake had been made." But it had not. Caroline also kept an observational journal for more than 30 years. This gives not only astronomical data, but emotional data too: it's an invaluable early view of a brother-sister scientific team at work, including their many trials and heartaches. It is one of the earliest records of how science actually gets done, its secret tribulations as well as its public triumphs."Some subjects demand to be turned into a series for BBC Four.
"subtle, yet perhaps very revealing"
Film Louise Hamway investigates the two versions of Werner Herzog's remake of Nosferatu. Yes, that's two.
"In 1979, Werner Herzog adapted Murnau’s film into “Nosferatu the Vampyre,” a.k.a. “Nosferatu, Phantom der Nacht,” a beautiful interpretation of the landmark film that works as homage while bringing its own touch of New German Cinema to it. Unlike the original, Herzog made two versions of the film: one in English and one in German. Not merely dubbed over voices as one would expect; Herzog shot the two simultaneously, shooting a scene in German then the same scene over in English. The differences are subtle, yet perhaps very revealing about the differences in German and American cinema."[obvious]The extra car chases were probably a bit unnecessary, though.[/obvious]
“Producing a Modern Newspaper”
History This article at The Bolton News mainly advertises a screening of films from the North West Film Archive at Bolton Library on Tuesday which will include plenty of documentary shorts not seen in decades (the reels have to be defrosted and processed before they can be seen). The evening starts at 7.30pm and tickets cost £4 from the library or by calling 01204 332211, if you're in the area.
But the article also includes a fascinating embedded video from 1930, “Producing a Modern Newspaper”, showing the journey of news stories from the telegraph machine through the journalistic eye to the printing press to distribution and finally to the hands of the paper boy. It would be interesting to know how different a contemporary remake would be. Has the distribution process of local papers changed that much?
But the article also includes a fascinating embedded video from 1930, “Producing a Modern Newspaper”, showing the journey of news stories from the telegraph machine through the journalistic eye to the printing press to distribution and finally to the hands of the paper boy. It would be interesting to know how different a contemporary remake would be. Has the distribution process of local papers changed that much?
"busting through stereotypes"
Radio This job advert seeking a female DJ to work at Radio One, that's Radio One in Beirut, cleverly spends much of its duration busting through stereotypes:
"Q – Is it safe?Sounds idyllic. Ferne? Interested?
A – In a word, yes. Petty crime is virtually unheard of and the rare occasions of political unrest are mostly limited to particular areas that you’re unlikely to find yourself in. Most residential areas around Beirut are very quiet indeed."
"so battered"
Film Another film archive discovery story, which though not as tenuous or impossible as the Metropolis restoration, shows that the difference between an important film existing or not existing is a simple and strange as the number of prints in existence:
"Almost as quickly as it built a cult reputation, the film [Sara Driver's adaptation of a Paul Bowles short story] fell from view, the victim of a leak in a New Jersey warehouse that destroyed Ms. Driver’s negative. That left her with only one film-festival print so battered that it would barely run through a projector. When museums and art house theaters called over the years asking to show it, she would turn them down, not wanting the film to be seen in such bad shape."Yet more hope that Marco Polo is still out there. Somewhere.
"an audio diary of his life"
History Art From Analog: 20 Years Of Voice Mail Makes A Movie:
"If there's one thing Mark Craig never did, it was hit "erase" on his answering machine. "When Craig got an answering machine in 1985, he wouldn't erase. He'd just replace the tape and throw the old one into a shoebox. Twenty years later, he had amassed hours and hours of what was, effectively, an audio diary of his life."The resulting film is just twenty-three minutes but this has the potential to be a valuable social history archive.
"the local village car park in Devon"
Food Potato launched into space:
"The "spacechip" – named Spudnik2 – was then tied to a helium weather balloon with a camera attached and launched from the local village car park in Devon."Then the Taterians, sensing one of their own was being tortured, sent a rescue mission/invasion force to earth and wiped out the human race.
"Whimsical Short Films Unit"
TV The Apprentice production team's early experimentation with Dr Who soundtracks:
"Following on from last week’s shock melange ‘twixt The Apprentice and some incidental music from Dr Who story ‘Daleks in Manhattan’, TV Cream’s Whimsical Short Films Unit has been toiling hard on the predictable flight of fancy that is: Hey! What would have happened if the production team had used some music from old Dr Who on the show?!"This is a work of genius, especially the second one. TV Cream has offered some utterly vintage work lately.
Goodbye, Sarah Jane Smith.
TV Back in the distant past, in mid-October when I was still exactly in my mid-thirties, it seemed as though the production team were taking the brave step of writing out Luke and K9 in an effort to move away from the too easy deus ex machina style story conclusions which have tin-dogged the series from the start. Luke may have stuck around as a dismodied head and shoulders on a flatscreen, making fleeting appearances to justify his continued presence in the introduction ("Boy GEEENIUUUS"), but the stories since have arguably been more thrilling because, with one obvious exception, the remaining attic allies have needed to rely somewhat on their wits, putting the clues together without too many easy answers (even to the point of taking Mr Smith out of the equation for this or that reason) and a fair bit of trial and error.
Which makes me wonder whether Clay and Gareth, in crafting the conclusion to Goodbye, Sarah Jane Smith and this season are being entirely serious when offering a solution that requires the combined effort of Luke, K9, Mr Smith and newbie electronic soap tray Mr White and a return to the worst excesses of previous stories: the kind of easy research leaps Lisbeth Salander would be proud of, action sequences lasting what seems like mere seconds piled one on top of another in which characters shift geographical area in moments and not always through teleportation and a villain that requires the emotional fallout from a fake global terror to be destroy. Epic concepts like Clyde trapped in the orbital golfball which would have been explored over whole episodes in the old Doctor Who (and did in the case of The Space Pirates) are ushered in and out all too soon.
As ever I was simultaneously elated and appalled, especially since the first episode is actually a quite sensitive (well sensitive for this panto) portrayal of Alzheimer’s or at least the stresses of watching a trusted friend or family member getting old. Who of us hasn’t forgotten something or witnessed someone else forgetting something really rather major like the current residency of their son and wondered – are we or they alright? Lis wonderfully demonstrated first the denial to friends, denial to oneself before acceptance and the decision on whether to fight or relent and let nature take its course.
Of course, in the real world none of this is brought about by a milfian temptress in a red sports car with matching couture. Like Samantha Bond and Suranne Jones before her, Julie Graham senses rightly or wrongly (it oscilates) that this isn’t the place for subtlety though she manages in the first episode to just about convince us that Ruby could be a potential replacement for Sarah Jane, cleverly approximating some of Lis’s business (the walk, the stance, the flick of the hair). By the cliffhanger, the needs of the show kick in of course and it's as though Kate O’Mara is in the room (not least because Ruby’s plan, to steal people’s life essences wasn’t a million miles away from the real Rani’s in her first adventure, if you squint).
Ultimately ranking about a seven on the Zaroff scale you still have to applaud the determination with which Graham sells the Katesh’s gastroschisis state and the boggle eyed notion of a stomach which exists outside an alien’s body, the writers sadly failing to have Clyde suggest it as useful alternative to a gastric band. What I would have liked to have seen would have been a proper battle of wills between Ruby and Sarah Jane the latter having already lost her wits before the former reached ascendancy. Would I be wrong in suggesting that the title character has been even less present this series, mostly falling into her old form of having to be rescued? In nearly ever story this year she seems to have been zapped or put through some sort of mental torture.
Which brings us back to doe in which I also expected the Doctor to arrive for good measure. Whilst its true that both Rani and Clyde also have a hand in the solution, there’s always something slightly unedifying about a character who’s previously had little input on a story charging and saving the day. Perhaps Luke’s still ill-advised scarf is meant to hide the chord which is being used to dangle him in like the original gods that would be brought in at the close of a Euripidian Greek tragedy. Aristotle hated this approach to drama and said so in Poetics where he proposed (radically for 335 BCE) that the resolution of the plot must always spring from the internal actions of the play, a model which has worked for much of the rest of the series.
Or as Hitchcock says, if you show a gun in the opening reel it has to have gone off by the end. What just about makes it saleable (other than the fact that Luke did at least put in an appearance in the first episode) is Tommy Knight’s burst of adolescent vitriol, his character bawling out Rani like a refugee from a John Osbourne play, as though what we’re actually seeing is the result of some whole other unseen narrative which is happening at Oxford, with Maslow’s hierarchy of needs as the main villain (a tricky bugger once you’ve reached the middle section). When he later clumsily tells Rani that he loves her, it begins to seem almost exactly like my university experience.
But predictably amid all the shouting and running, the best scene is the quiet moment between Rani and her mum, in which Gita describes quite logically the jealousy of seeing her daughter palling about over the road with this second mother figure and the secret they clearly have between them, Mina Anwar perhaps suggesting, just as she did with the alternative version of the character in The Temptation of Sarah Jane Smith that the feckles, flowery, “HELLO SARAH!” version of her character is an act or defence mechanism and that, eep, Gita might have hidden depths which is quite a contrast to Graham’s gurning from across the road. It’s this contrast which has, on the whole, made this series such a joy.
Next Time: I don't know. Time's caught up with us.
The List:
31. Given property advice by property expert Sarah Beeny.
Property Sarah Beeny gave a live chat to The Guardian earlier. I asked:
To which she replied:
31. Given property advice by property expert Sarah Beeny. (sort of)
To which she replied:
"official organ"
Games I'd been considering buying a Nintendo Wii in order to play their new Doctor Who game but wanted to wait and see what a proper games magazine thought of it. Enter Nintendo's official organ.
"Clearly made by people who hate games, sci-fi, and everything decent about humanity."Oh. Oh well. That saves me a couple of hundred pounds then [via].
"Luke, Vader, Father, David and Prowse"
Film Another example for the file marked "If the internet existed in the 70s".
In 1977/78, David Prowse told a fanzine and later a local newspaper that Darth Vader was Luke's father two or three years before the release of The Empire Strikes Back a story which doesn't seem to have been picked up or carried outside of the relative readerships of those particular organs.
Now, this would have been all over the web within seconds, with Luke, Vader, Father, David and Prowse trending high on Twitter for days.
In 1977/78, David Prowse told a fanzine and later a local newspaper that Darth Vader was Luke's father two or three years before the release of The Empire Strikes Back a story which doesn't seem to have been picked up or carried outside of the relative readerships of those particular organs.
Now, this would have been all over the web within seconds, with Luke, Vader, Father, David and Prowse trending high on Twitter for days.
"I had a similar call the other day"
Justice Webologist receives one of those phone calls:
"Had another call today from a firm telling me that my computer was generating errors caused by malware, which was caused because my security warranty was out of date. I had a similar call the other day, and knowing it to be a scam I asked them which computer was causing a problem, and said that there were over 300 computers in my office and they could not all be faulty. The man that called hung up."Well worth reading even if you think you're someone who is especially web-literate, if only so that you can help others watch out for the signs.
"for one night only"
Music What I especially love about this, other than Daniel Radcliffe bringing Tom Lehrer back to British television, for one night only, is that he obviously knows it through the same version as me, the Evening Wasted live album and has to stop himself from quoting Lehrer's jokes. "I hope you're all taking notes because there'll be a short quiz next period", "Can we have the next slide, please?" etc.
"these are forbidden words"
Film An entertainingly freewheeling interview with Christian Bale in Esquire during which the journo takes the actor to task for the format restrictions he's been handed:
ESQUIRE: Sometimes the ground needs to be prepared. And you've laid down these onerous rules on me — all I can do is a Q&A.Though Esquire attempts to turn his restriction against him, Bale does have point. Sometimes interviews are more about the writer than the subject. Jon Ronson's five minutes with Justin Bieber manages to get the balance just right.
Actually, these are forbidden words that you are reading right now. Bale is in the habit of requesting that his media interviews be printed in a Q&A format. He also prefers to conduct them at the same five-star luxury hotel in Los Angeles, and makes it known that he dislikes personal questions.
BALE: You don't like that?
ESQUIRE: No! I don't like being told what to do.
BALE: I'll tell you why. Basically, it's somebody who got stuck having to interview me who really wants to be a novelist, so they're writing these novellas and I was like, "It's not true, that didn't happen, they just made all that up! Why don't they just go ahead and be a novelist instead of bothering with interviewing me?"
ESQUIRE: So you want to be perceived accurately, but you also don't want to give any details. You realize that those two things contradict each other.
BALE: No, it's simpler than that. I want to be able to just act and never do any interview, but I don't have the balls to stand up to the studio and say, "I'm never doing another interview in my life!" So I tip my hat and go, "Okay mister! All right mister! I'll go do the salesman job!"
Review 2010: Call For Entries: The Opinion Engine
It's that time of year. Again.
Each December, as some of you will know, I try to write (or ask you to write) a series of posts grouped around a single theme or mode. Sometimes these are epic projects that cover the entire month, otherwise it's simply something to fill the days between Christmas and New Year.
This year I want to try to be epic. Again.
What I would like is for you to suggest topics for me to offer an opinion about.
Could be anything. Something cultural, a film, a book or some music. A current affairs story. A person. A concept. Even just a word.
You can be as specific as possible, phrase the suggestion as a question. Or simply a sentence or a title.
There are no restrictions although I reserve to the right not to use it or to ask you to come up with something else if I simply can't find the inspiration or feel as though I've covered it already somewhere in the past nine and half years of my blog. Unless I've changed my mind. I do that a lot.
Some readers will notice that this is a variation of what happened in Review 2006 though with slightly less restrictions. You could have a look at that if you're looking for ideas.
You will of course receive credit for your suggestion and links to your website/twitter account/anything you're trying to publicise.
I want to try and post something for every day in December so will have to start writing now so that I have something "banked".
You can contact me through the usual virtual channels:
Thanks.
names people have thought i am called (a complete list) (probably)
Life In approximate order:
Stuart
Stewart
Ian (a lot) (seriously, even when I've sent them an email signed with Stuart) (I mean I know I ostentatiously use my middle name on occasion/always but it's weird how people's eyes seem to scan to Ian ignoring the bit before it)
Simon
James
[inspired by]
Stuart
Stewart
Ian (a lot) (seriously, even when I've sent them an email signed with Stuart) (I mean I know I ostentatiously use my middle name on occasion/always but it's weird how people's eyes seem to scan to Ian ignoring the bit before it)
Simon
James
[inspired by]
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