manchester videos

 since i have been looking at street art ....grafitti ....etc i have become interested in the cities themselves....does the environment that we live effect our behaviour?...does it influence how we react to our surroundings....why do grafitti artists do what they do?   you never see grafitti in middle class suburbia....always in inner cities...decaying places...both socially and economically....in lisbon chiado area is covered in street vandalism....why......i listened to a radio 4 programme about hulme...the architects had great aspirations....but look what happened...it turned in to a guetto...a no go area for even the police....watch the video...high rise

http://vimeo.com/12986261

A film about people, preconceptions and 1960’s concrete.

Hi High Rise is the first short film by photographic
partnership TAPE and is shot entirely on a digital SLR.

This documentary aims to challenge the preconceptions associated with tower block living in the UK and celebrates the successful community of Hornchurch Court, a high rise on the edge of Manchester city centre.

i love manchester by simon owen...one persons view of the landmarks,,,,,before the bombing in manchester the arndale didnt exist...the city is always changing   for the better??????

http://vimeo.com/9755039    by simon owen

From rock to rubble: how Manchester lost its music

this is a thought provoking peice

 http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/video/2010/mar/31/manchester-music-owen-hatherley       by owen hatherley

 One of Manchester’s most distinctive buildings - the 107 metre tall City Tower in Piccadilly Gardens - became a huge, open canvas from Friday 12 – Sunday 14 December (4pm – 11pm)2008, when passers-by where invited to leave giant handprints on the side of its imposing tower.....i like the idea of interventions however big or small that take place in the city,,,,,,,,,,


http://vimeo.com/12932359..handprint...your hand on a building

fishing @ stoat in croston 2010..sam holt....sebastian gregory...charlie holt and byron gregory

august nine 2010....stoat fishing trip....gear all sorted out....the weather doesnt look good but hey we have umbrellas......pack the car and off....excitement in the air ....anticipation of what we might catch or not catch......3 minutes and we are there...pay fred and choose a swim......we tackle up ....i cant believe it sams in with a 4 lb mirror mirror carp in less than 3 minutes...whilst i still getting sorted out.......the rain ...very fine you know the kind that you wet in.....its fine under the brollies...the sound of the raindrops on the pond is gentle......then we start getting plenty of bites....mostly small roach....the conversation goes something like this....you just missed a bite....can i have some meat...are you on sweetcorn....what depth are you fishing....all intellectual stuff....sam lands another...mirror again around 4 lbs...jammy or what.....not quite like the 40 pounder in toulouse recently....later in the day he managed to land a mirror the size of the palm of his hand...elation...the smallest one that he has ever caught...meanwhile im hauling in lots of roach and decent skimmer....byron and basti arrive around about lunchtime....basti is using a small pole ...he puts on the bait...what seems like minutes later...hes got a bite and a big fish.......a reel expert ..........the day goes buy...much the same conservation...about bites...bait...and other mind boggling observations.......watch the gripping epic adventure for  a true reflection of the day...a film about the excitement to be had sitting by a pond......sometimes in the rain.....

loughboro college of art..circa 1966 to 69 @mr gibbs house

a long overdue visit to my old not so old friend and mentor from art college days in printmaking in william street with john hawley..chub harrison and mike north...like a pair or 3 including patsy...mrs giggs...last of the summer winers.......careering around memory lane for several hours only stopping to take breath......i arrived in loughboro or as i and my wife refer to it as loobrush......through kegworth...met dave manley ex dean of derby the other day @ oldham art gallery....on past the dewdrop pub and into loobrush.....up paget street onto radmoor rd and bingo york street...rat a tat tat....mr gibbs in the flesh....they have the same green carpet as we have in croston...a tardis of a house...the years peeled away..was it so long ago...time had stood still....or had it always been standing still....there was dave just looking like dave........cups of tea...patsy had to go out and left us too it...upto the studio to see the newly made book.....a limited edition of 12..... 2 volumes in a box everything done by yes ....mr gibbs...beautifully printed and put together.......texts and poems from spanish all translated by yes.......then a look in the plans chest....then a blue box complete with piano hinge...full of stuff from the 60s...a treasure trove of images...moonwalking juxtaposed with indian imagery......each one a treat......patsy then showed me her paintings...mostly fantastic renditions of past masters including an amazing tanka painting....the house is full of buddhist stuff.....and things....niks and a few naks.....more t then lunch ...dave home made bread and an italianate soup which had been buubling in nthe background.....the conversation flowed like printers ink.......one memory led to another.....then off out for wander around town...through the park past the merillion ...took afew shots of the town ...dave outside boots where i first arranged to meet hilary all those years ago...been married 39 years....the chinese...lunch for 3 and 6.....the saracens head where we played darts and back to york street for an early dinner talking all the while...at the end of the meal dave said he was off upstairs and i said we didnt want to know he returned with a..........he put it down in front of me.......a book.........i was lost for words........thankyou...and a print from patsy for hilary....what an amazing day.......a mixture of nostalgia and looking forward to new projects....we wont wait another 20 odd years for the next meeting      our meeting was inevitable....nearly the title of one of the books.......

bat the rat...aka mr vince atherton of croston...lancashire

just what is bat the rat?????? it is money making machine cunningly contrived by a certain vince atherton of croston...lancashire......it is literally wheeled out @ and on various calendar dates in the life of the said village....it is a curious contrivance involving 2 wheels....some plastic drainpipe....a conglomeration of sundry bits of wood....exquisite lettering.......not like the narrow boat tradition....its more home spun......it is always acompanied by the forementioned mr atherton...attired in a bowler hat and patriotic waistcoat...and trousers...and shoes.....harmless you might think....this is an invention that requires great skill in mastering its content....especially when you have an operator that is not quite trustworthy.........he also plays the bagpipes....at the drop a hat.....i digress......mr atherton poses as a friendly local resident...he has in fact been a part of village life since he was released from............on this recent outing which was bastille  day celebrations on the village green......yes its about france.......many years ago at the local secondary school a french....english exchange was set up for school children which eventually morphed into an adult exchange as well..........so its obvious mr atherton gets his rats out......at this point perhaps i should explain the workings of this phenomena.....mr atherton holds a fabric rat...that is made from fabric with a little tail...a fabric tail...he warns the contestant who has been lured into the web...that he ...mr atherton with release the rat into the plastic drainpipe....the unsuspecting participant is armed with a short stick with which to trap or more correctly.....bat the rat..........there is an old english phrase about  a rat up a drainpipe...this has got absolutely nothing to do with this scam.....the contestant waits in eager anticipation.....nerves jangle........powers of concentration focused....little do they know that the operator is sneaky....he often drops the rat but catches its tail briefly thus slowing the delivery of the prey...the contestant strikes...to early ...the rat then pops out.......mr athgerton smiles innocently....who me?????? another of his tactics is tp throw the rat  down the guttering....the participant is caught unawares....again there is a benign smile....or more like ...you cant beat me smug look........he is extremely plausible this mr atherton.....people form queues  around the village green in an attempt to bat the rat.....there is only one winner the rat aka mr atherton...........and here he is....

rochdale....some memories...jumbled thoughts in no particular order

the other day i was in rochdale on business and found myself close to drake street ....which used to be the smart shopping street of the town...alas no more.....it looks forlorn...abandonned.....shuttered shops...it is a visual mess....the only highlight for me was....is it possible....yes....the san remo coffee bar where we used to while away chatting to girls.....it was close to the art school where i was a student on a foundation course.....64 to 66.....hours with one cup of coffee...chatting to the girls....the art school was just opposite...i was a student doing foundation art with people like tim wood...fiona ward...ann baldwin....david clough....robin chadwick.....ian bamford....vince bottomley et al..........since burnt down...this is another story.......back to the san remo.....i couldnt resist it i went in and had a coffee...it looked vaguely the same....here are a few shots.....

the wimpy bar used to be close by......another hang out....very brightly lit though ....we preferred dim and atmospheric........further up drake street was a cafe called.......?.......just before dennis hopes mens wear shop....its so long ago...we also used to meet the girls every day after school at the bottom of the walk....a small pedestrian street...eyeing each other up...and waiting for the bury girls grammar school bus to arrive.....got it....the medichi...i think i used to spell it like this....complete with jukebox...and dark.........being in rochdale has jogged my mmory of other times and places associated with around the same time.....silver street methodist chapel...a place where we went to dances on a saturday night id be about 15...16....the latest dance was the twist by chubby checker....the night usually went like this...all the lads on one side of the room and ...yes the girls on the other....lots of eyeing up and go on ask to dance stuff....at the end of the night probably 9...9 30 we would probably go to the chippy on spotland road........he had channel swimmers and gold bars........the last dance was always a slow one ( music played on a dansette) that was the last chance to get the girl youde fancied all night.....

..we walked home from here down by the river spod down what we always called 200 steps...i wonder if they are still there...close by silver street was clarkes lane where i went to primary school..one famous class mate being bet lynch of corrie fame....susan shotton was a swat...gillian firth was very pretty...but then i wasnt interested in girls.....barry cottam gave me my nickname ...charlie.......we where playing football on lenny barn with jeremy march..ian taylor...and one or 2 others...a coach went past owned by a company called charlie holts coaches....barry looked at the coach and then looked at me....bingo ...my new name...and it stuck...and stuck...and.....i was probably around 13 ish.........
its interesting how places trigger thoughts....as i walk around rochdale i think that someone in the street could be someone that i know....its my version of fantasy friends reunited...........i kind of like the idea of reaquainting myself to a long ago past..........names come into your head....old ladies that i used to do errands for on a saturday morning when i was about 10....mrs corney was a near neighbour....miss burrows had an old fashioned greengrocers...spuds were in sacks...when you opened the door ...a strange bell dinged...then she came into the shop...a big woman wrapped in a huge pinny and wearing clogs.....i bought penny ice lollies there....there were posters for skegness....scarborough etc on the walls....it was a .travel agents as well..............haircuts were at teds across the road an ex army barber....short back and sides...and i mean short back and sides........he left almost no hair at all and then asked if you wanted any tooti........brylcream......if you said yes...he deposited a huge dollop on your head....then is was rubbed it in...combed it......you had the appearance of someone with greasy plastered hair...when you went outside it felt cold...reason........no hair...fortunately my mother did not like teds idea of a haircut.....mine was left relatively long...........much like it is now......


the first house that i remember was 97 rooley moor road...a terraced house.......after the front door was hallway...on the right the sitting room...this was only used on special ocasions.....birthdays.....christmas...when you werer ill...i remember having my tonsils out and spending some time recouping in this very room...after i came out of rochdale infirmary...a present had been hidden...it was a toy pop gun rifle ..complete with a cork on a short peice of string..........the furniture comprised a three piece suite.......a dumb waiter full of nik naks........the room that we lived in had an old iron range that went almost to the ceiling...it had an oven...a place to heat the kettle..and a water boiler...this was for when we had a bath.....a zinc bath...that was kept in the cellar.......the kitchen then called a skullery was tiny....no hot tap....a door leading out the backyard.....where the outside loo was....last thing at night you made sure you went....during the night there was a chamber pot kept under the bed,,,,,,,,

frank sidebottom......one of my all time favourite...passes away june 21-2010

i cant believe it frank no more........i first heard his comic tunes in the 80s.....on vinyl......thank you!!!!.... and tape...seems like the stone age......the character with the papier mache head...as i am writing this i can hear his voice in my head....i am even writing this in his voice....thank you !!!!.......rembering tunes like.....anarchy in timperley......

and here it is.........http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lJEk7UQIII4     take it away..............

three shists on my line.....another wacky hit.........http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sxcS3OUrgUk


more to follow.................

frank @ the seaside bottom one of my firm favourites....it really is....

saramago and the empire of light...june- 18- 2010 jose saramago passes away......some thoughts....

at last i am reaching the end of the wall....the three travellers have met in the woods and joana carda scratched a mark on the ground they try to obliterate it but it will not go away.......then they are on the way to where? they are still following the dog with the blue wool......they arrive at a house ...maria opens the door...she is the lady with the blue sock....i have chosen to base this part of the mural on magrittes painting " the empire of light" ........day and night exist @ the same time....in the same place.......we or they are entering another world....there is a blue cloud floating over the house......what does it signify.....whilst the friends are talking pedro orce who is alone goes off with "dog".......they wander over the hills towards the sea....as they approach the beach there is a still quality......calm......not quite real.......do his eyes deceive him........can this be.......scattered along the beach are boats....petrified boats.....stone boats.........there is an eerie feeling  in the evening light......which is fading fast.......adding to the mystery............rocks ....large rocks...like we find in albufeira........a calm sea..........i am using the boats as a reference to a painting by bocklin....the isle of the dead.......the boats are almost transparent....you can see right through them....what is their cargo........souls.........i have returned to the image of the floating landmass heading towards the azores......or the isle of the dead........the boat in the "unknown island" becomes the island...the raft is a moving island......the story has gone full circle....the man searching for the island......the peninsular departing ftom europe.....by cause and effect...the stick..the stone...a tremble..the birds...the blue sock......"dog"....blue cloud........the dogs that bark ........impossible....perhaps no more impossible then magrittes painting of the empire of light......day and night together at the same time.......the moon hanging in the early morning sky at the end.....all is possible.....these where my thoughts during the day of june 18......after the days work i went to an exhibition in sao bras....not an unusual event at all...at the gallery i picked up the novel about an elephant .....by you know who......unfortunately for me in portuguese......on returning home that night...a message was waiting for me on facebook from dave gibbs an old friend...telling me about saramago....it was strange ....i had spent the past 2 days thinking abiout all these connections............possible connections

"Because each of you has his or her own death, you carry it with you in a secret place from the moment you're born, it belongs to you and you belong to it." José Saramago

"Some people spend their entire lives reading but never get beyond reading the words on the page, they don't understand that the words are merely stepping stones placed across a fast-flowing river, and the reason they're there is so that we can reach the farther shore, it's the other side that matters.” José Saramago

from dave gibbs

INEVITABILITY
Lucky is the tree that’s barely sentient,
and even more the unfeeling flinty rock,... See more
because there is no pain like that of living,
nor greater grief than that of sentient life.

To be, know nothing, and not know where we’re going,
with the fear of past and future terrors…
And the shocking certainty of being dead tomorrow,
and to suffer through this life and through its shadows

and all the things we know not and cannot imagine,
and the flesh groping with its nascent inflorescences,
and the tomb that waits with floral tributes,
and not knowing where we’re going,
or where we’ve come from!…

Rubén Darío
(my translation)

Saramago will be cremated at Lisbon's Alto de Sao Joao cemetery at noon on Sunday June 20, after which his ashes will be divided.
Half will be taken to his native village of Azinhaga and the rest will be placed at the foot of an olive tree in the garden of his Lanzarote home, where he spent the last 17 years of his life.

The olive tree.........

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x3ldSLYnECc         bocklin...the isle of the dead.........

Böcklin himself provided no public explanation as to the meaning of the painting, though he did describe it as “a dream picture: it must produce such a stillness that one would be awed by a knock on the door.......