Recently I took a short cut through Smithfield Market. The gates’ colour scheme reflect the Victorian’s invention of super bright colours, especially green and purple. The meat market has been here for over 800 years, and is currently under threat of closure. In the 18th and 19th century it was the site of an annual ‘wife sale‘. I was once told by a cheeky 21st century worker ‘That’s the only reason I got a job here’.
Cold/stormy/apocalyptic weather conditions mean you may have to give up on your usual exercise regime. If you have a home, chair exercises can be rather exhausting, especially if the chair is heavy to lift off the ground. I’m now developing a system which you can easily follow even when listening to disturbing news on your wind-up radio. More soon …
The painted wooden summer house where eighteenth century polymath Emanuel Swedenborg sometimes wrote his mysterious books, thought of inventions, planned his garden or played music on his organ, is now in Skansen, Sweden. I visited here when I was three years old. Can I really remember the house? Or was its image imprinted on my mind years later? Intrigued and inspired by Swedenborg’s wooden house, I designed a paper version.
At this week’s workshop at Swedenborg House, participants were encouraged to fill theirs with images and ideas – maybe their memories, dreams for the future or an invention or two. Afterwards they cut out and folded their house to take home. Their houses included cat pilots, ornate garden designs, waterfalls, a landing strip for visiting aliens and the music of Debussy.
Participants included ten year old triplets, a partially sighted older person (‘I’ve made new friends!’ she told me as she showed me her paper house), a Chinese calligrapher and many others of all ages. I’d suggested an age range of six to one hundred.
Gentle eighteenth century organ music accompanied us, apart from when I played a few notes very briefly on my Triola, and shared my experience of seeing colour in sound and vice versa. ‘I do too!’ someone cried.
With thanks to Jacob Cartwright for two photos above
On October 12th I joined thirty other collectors of the obscure and intriguing and showed a collection of objects again at the Artworkers Guild . This time a selection of relics, votives and a shrine dedicated to Dandy comic’s Desperate Dan. The title was ‘Do objects have power by association?’ The answer for me is: definitely. Desperate Dan was part of my childhood.
He appeared in the Dandy comic and was initially drawn by artist Dudley D. Watkins who also drew Lord Snooty and his pals in the Beano. I was a very late reader, but avidly followed the action in comics. Dudley was a prolific cartoonist, and died at his drawing desk holding a pen in 1969. He went to Art College in Nottingham, which is where I grew up, although born in Devon. The 2D chin samples are taken from a 1950s Dandy annual, the 3D samples are re-imaginings of cloning attempts. Would Desperate Dan’s Aunt Aggie have approved? Probably not.
Other objects on my table included a pink heart made by my daughter when she was a child, a plastic doll’s arm found in the middle of a deserted path when I was walking in the Alpujarras, and hair from a judge’s wig – more about that on another post.
The sun shone on National Poetry Day, and I was lured to the seaside to add a contribution to a Poetathon held at Kollectiv Arts Centre in Folkestone. En route to the coast via High Speed train, I wrote a poem about adopting a sloth. I like sloths. Three live in London Zoo (where I ran a workshop with zookeeper and scientists earlier this year).
Marilyn, the matriarch, has featured in several of my children’s books. The adoption is a bit emotionally disappointing: it involves the zoo sending you a fridge magnet. I read my brief poem appropriately slowly, listened to some other poets then headed for a walk by the sea in brilliant sunshine, with France clearly visible on the horizon.
Meeting and chatting with Mr Doodle today on Primrose Hill bridge, where he was doodling away – part of London Mural Festival – reminded me of one of my Draw It! series, the Doodle a Day book.
As Michaelmas approaches, here’s one of my comic strip stories from the Kindberg archive
One of my Draw It! series of six books was this one about pirates, and I loved working on it, as I rather fancied myself as a pirate. I only got as far as firstly, rowing a little boat on Nottingham University boating lake aged ten, secondly doing a Competent Crew course sailing from Ipswich down the English east coast, narrowly missing Clacton pier – I’m very short sighted, and lastly sailing on a Dutch brigantine from Falmouth to Lisbon, for an Independent newspaper piece about a Tall Ships Race. None of this involved piracy.
In 2001 however, intrigued by stories of a sixteenth century Irish lady pirate, I travelled to County Mayo to find out about feisty Grace O’Malley, who apparently controlled that west coast, and gave birth to a son at sea whilst seeing off rival pirates. Sailing on a little ferry to Grace’s former headquarters on Clare Island, I visited her tomb, writing about my visit for the Guardian Newspaper.
By several political machinations, the descendants of Grace O’Malley eventually became the Marquesses of Sligo. When I visited, the current Marquess’s wife was working in the gift shop of their home, Westport House. My letter to the Marquess requesting an interview was never answered. Their house was eventually sold, and the present 12th Marquess of Sligo now works as an estate agent in Australia.
Barnes Children’s Book Festival 2017
Recent events in my flat – a leak from the flat above me – means I’ve had to relocate some of my belongings. Eight framed photos from an exhibition about my meeting the late Punch and Judy Professor Leslie Press were collected this week by Professor James, Secretary of the Punch & Judy Fellowship, and will appear in another exhibition in Norwich in October. I very much enjoyed meeting and chatting with this younger Professor. The very tall Professor James, who has a tattoo of Mr Punch on his upper leg, is currently taking part in the Arcola Theatre‘s Mr Punch at the Opera
Ha! the best workshop events have a life of their own … who knew when I introduced my tetrapods to Fitzrovia last sunday, I’d meet another one quoting Latin (it means now and for ever), encounter members of Save the Bees doing a waggle dance, meet a small lion, a sound recordist called Moon who uses a mic disguised as a flower, or have my portrait drawn? Fun and delight at the 2024 Fitzrovia Fete, organised by Fitzrovia Community Centre.
Comment from Fitzrovia Community Centre: So great to have you there again. Same time next year?