The High Atlas, on the far left of North Africa in Morocco.
There is something magical about being up in the mountains, in the knowledge of the sheer force with which whole landmasses, carried by tectonic plates, have collided to form raised scars running across our planet. The High Atlas mountains in Morocco are no exception. Every morning, I unzipped my sleeping bag and hauled my sleepy self upstairs to take in the view from the roof of our gite. Awe-inspiring. I was scared, almost, that I'd begin to take it for granted during the week we spent there. Now I am back on the flat terrain of eastern England, it seems but a dream.
I pulled an all-nighter to stay up and watch the election on Thursday night. I've been enthralled by the proceedings, and how this election is proving to be a momentous one for British politics. I just hope we gain something from the hung situation, and not a Tory government.
The Liberal Democrats have a tough decision to make. They could form a Tory-Liberal coalition, or compromise on pushing some of their policies through while the Tories run the country. But this would be a bold ideological move for the Lib Dems, and one which may not be forgiven by Lib Dem supporters for years to come. I would certainly not vote for them again if they made that move. Can you successfully merge the Left with the Right? Is that sufficient to bring about the ambiguous 'change' Clegg talked about during the campaign? Honest politics?
A Lib-Lab coalition would undoubtedly please the liberal electorate. It would ensure that the Tories couldn't implement their £6 billion public service cuts, and numerous other disagreeable policies. It would also be a more sensible ideological alliance. However, Clegg would appear undemocratic in not allowing the party with the most votes to govern. Could he use the excuse of pushing for electoral reform, and this being the only way to ensure that it would happen? Another irony in this move would be that he has been campaigning for 'change' for the last few months. Siding with Labour wouldn't exactly fulfil that aim unless it could be proven to be progressive for the country.
Will we still 'agree with Nick' after a deal has been signed?
I have a feeling that the Lib Dems won't be able to turn down the opportunity to have an inch of power in government, and will form an alliance of sorts with the Conservatives. Regardless, I am going to be glued to the BBC Election pages for the foreseeable future! History is in the making.
I stumbled upon this on YouTube and was incredibly moved by it. Listen.
Autumn
Autumn leaves under frozen souls, Hungry hands turing soft and old, My hero crying as we stood out there in the cold, Like these autumn leaves I don't have nothing to hold.
Handsome smiles wearing handsome shoes, Too young to say, though I swear he knew, And I hear him singing while he sits there in his chair, While these autumn leaves float around everywhere.
And I look at you, and I see me, Making noise so restlessly, But now its quiet and I can hear you sing, 'My little fish dont cry, my little fish dont cry.'
Autumn leaves how fading now, That smile that I've lost, well I've found some how, Because you still live on in my father's eyes, These autumn leaves, all these autumn leaves, All these autumn leaves are yours tonight.
Birdsong. A beautiful reminder of the psychological and physical torment experienced by the soldiers of World War One. I've had the novel on my shelf for about a year now after finding it in a second-hand bookshop, but only just got round to reading it. I'm in that funny state of mind when you've finished a book, and are in mourning for the wonder of reading it for the first time, knowing you'll never have that wonderful enlightening experience again. Of course, I can choose to re-read it, but I won't be able to recapture the urgency I felt whilst turning the pages rapidly and wondering whether the war-wearied men I had warmed to would survive the next few lines.
I dare not say much more, as the enjoyment you would leech from the novel is too great to ruin. I'll just say three words: Read. This. Book.
I went on a school trip when I was 15 where we visited the trenches and mass graveyards in the Somme. I don't think I was emotionally mature enough to comprehend what had passed on those once barren landscapes. I still find it impossible to truly comprehend the mental hardship of those involved. I don't know if I would be able to throw myself over the top of the trench and run across No Man's Land, towards enemy bullets that make the muscle of men appear like the flimsy stuffing of a cheap rag doll. As the character Stephen says in Birdsong, how can you sum up the bravery of the actions of war from within the confines of the English language?
In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae, May 1915
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields.
I saw The Bays last year at the Warwick Arts Centre and was mindblown. Their mantra, 'performance is the product' sums them up quite well. When I went to see them, the auditorium was scattered with handfuls of people among swathes of empty seats, which did not bear testimony to the experience I encountered. We sat right in front of a human-sized speaker to better experience the music, as the 'experience' is the emphasis of all Bays performances. An orchestra were instructed to play the music on the digital screen in front of them, of which the score was being created as we sat and watched by a small man surrounded by computers, wires and cables. Every now and again it would flash up on a screen, and you could see the creative process at work.
What began sounding like a piece of skewed classical music morphed through stages of thumping DnB, eerie silences filled with meaning, and flurries of jazzy electro. The crowd responded in any way they desired. Some people were sat gracefully still as if they were at an opera, some were moving in response to the rhythm, and I distinctly remember one guy with long brown hair standing up and swaying wildly around the stairs. I, wasn't sure how to react as I couldn't draw upon previous experiences to guide me! I went for the casual nodding look, but it didn't seem to matter at all.
Here is what The Bays say about themselves and their music: "Forget every rule you’ve ever been taught about live music. Ignore every outmoded notion of what it is to be a ‘live’ band. Forget even what you think you think ‘live music’ actually means.
What drives this band is a need to communicate with their audience in a way not possible with traditional live bands. There are no ‘songs’ as such to perform, there’s no album to promote, there are no commercial imperatives at play. The Bays only perform live, they never rehearse, they don’t have a set-list and they couldn’t ever do the same performance twice. It’s all about the moment – an experience or an event that exists between the band and the audience for one time only.
The Bays have no intention of releasing any material in the immediate future, but even if you could capture the performance in digital format, it would only represent a fraction of the total Bays experience. Because what they do that is so unique, so unprecedented, is that they enter into a creative partnership with the crowd, receiving feedback from the dance floor and reinterpreting that response, rewiring the vibe and taking it to a new level.
Each of The Bays is feeling a progression in the music and is anticipating where the performance is going to next. It could change at any moment and pursue a new direction in a second. Taking the concept of the DJ – presiding over a seamless continuum of music – The Bays drop sets like a live band creating a 90-minute DJ-mix. And reinventing the concept of studio remixing, The Bays are creating new tracks on stage and remixing these ideas live without any planning, verbal communication or commercial consideration.
The guys are pushing boundaries with their sound. They are giving their audience something radical, revolutionary even. So much so, that if the hype is to be believed, the 21st century notion of what it means to play live will henceforth be understood in entirely new terms - in terms first defined by The Bays."
I thoroughly enjoyed my first experience of the live music of The Bays and I would recommend it to anyone. If you live in the glorious south of the country, The Bays are playing on the 12th March at the Jazz Cafe in Camden, London. Enjoy. I've posted a short piece on them underneath to whet your appetite.
I felt in need for something empowering, and this has done the trick. It was actually the last song that Bob Marley sang before he died in 1981, which I find quite fitting as his last message. I wanted a live version because I wanted to see it in its embodiment as a vessel of communication. I think this song is supposed to be received by many ears, and just by being there in presence, the crowd becomes active in the song's resounding message against political oppression. I love how the lazily slow pace of the song and the simplicity of the monosyllabic lyrics contrasts dramatically with the depth of history it implicitly refers to.
Items on the High Street, from left to right: Erickson Beamon Swarovski crystal Victoria Cross brooches; Stretch cotton camouflage pants by Balmain; Cotton and silk-blend military shirt, Alexander McQueen; Dress by Diesel; Cracker Jacks cargo pants by Sass & Bide; Ladies' Waxed Cotton Utility Overnight Bag by Barbour; and Damisi Boots, All Saints.
The military trend resurfaces every now and again and is easily assimilated into high street stores. Scores of people wear both these designer and high street items ignorant of the wider implications. I cannot help but find it ironic that the military is glamourised through clothing, while soldiers are dying every day fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan, and the Chilcott trials are questioning the very right to go to war. So what are the political implications of glamourising the military like this through fashion? Is it the role of the consumer or the designer to be discerning about the clothes they wear or produce?
Buberry AW10
Marc by Marc Jacobs AW10
The collections by Burberry and Marc by Marc Jacobs this Autumn / Winter draw on the military trend. However, both seem to draw on wars from the distant past. Do they circumvent political implications by grounding their historical context in wars that only a handful of living people bear first-hand experience of? Are we all guilty of implicitly glamourising the 'heroes' of war, without questioning the right to intervene in the affairs of other countries?
I don't pretend to have the answers, yet I believe that we need to make sure that we don't become passive followers of the catwalk. We may not dictate the clothes that fill the rails of our favourite retailers, but we do exercise the choice to wear what we feel we should. Plenty of people chose not to wear fur, and slogan t-shirts are a simple way of coveying our opinions. So next time you see a military-themed item, be it a shirt, skirt or piece of jewellery, just consider the message that you'd like to convey. Let your style be in your hands, not those of the retailers or designers.
I read in the news yesterday that 'soil scientists' who analysed the soil for its insect content have discovered that over the last 10 years, the number of invertebrates in UK soil has increased by a gigantic 47%! This is despite a concurrent fall in species diversity and mass human destruction of habitats across the world. Scientists say that they can't yet predict whether this increase in soil-dwelling insects will be beneficial or not, although it is almost certainly due to an increase in average temperatures and rainfall.
It is strange to think that under our feet, the soil holds a metropolis of life. We tend to live our lives ignorant of other species, yet they are often more abundant than us, we just make more noise. When I was a child I used to love lifting up the rocks from the rockery in our garden, and capturing the insects underneath in a bucket. Worms, woodlice, tiny snails, earwigs, and the crown jewels - centipedes or millipedes. I know that when I have children I shall encourage them to get filthy in the garden and explore nature. Scuffed knees and muddy hands will be the uniform of the day, and the great outdoors our playground.
Holi is the Festival of Colours, celebrated by principally Hindus, Buddhists, Sikhs, Jains, in a large number of countries. It is held at the end of winter, which is March 1st this year. I came across this wonderful festival through reading about India, which I am currently totally absorbed by.There are several stories surrounding the celebrations, all of which are charming and magical.One rendition follows that Kamadeva, a god of love's body was destroyed when he shot his weapon at Shiva, a major Hindu deity, in order to disrupt his meditation and help Parvati, a Hindu goddess, to marry Shiva. All-powerful Shiva subsequently opened his third eye and looked upon Kamadeva. The gaze was so powerful that Kama's body was reduced to ashes. For the sake of Kama's wife, Shiva restored him, but only as a mental image, representing the true emotional and spiritual state of love rather than physical lust. The Holi bonfire is believed to be celebrated in commemoration of this event. I urge you to read the other stories as well, as they are quite different.
Holi is a festival of radiance in the universe. During this festival, followers believe that different waves of radiance traverse the universe, thereby creating various colours that nourish and complement the function of respective elements in the atmosphere. In celebration, people throw coloured powders and coloured water at each other.
I am in awe of how wonderful this is. I think it captures the jubilance that people feel when we finally reach the beginning of spring and summer after a long cold winter. I'm sure all Seasonal Affective Disorder sufferers would find this especially alluring! We have so much to learn from other cultures.
Turning to a new topic of interest, I am currently fascinated by the beautiful shapes of smoke and powder. Reactions between chemicals produce wonderful ethereal shapes.
Both reactions above are the combination of Aluminium and Bromine
These remind me of a photograph of Leon Diaper that I was looking at on the Dazed and Confused magazine website. He says that he searches for the romance within a subject, and I guess I can draw parallels between that outlook and my blog. Here is one of his works:
Alexa Chung seems to be the new style icon and fashion guru of the times. She was sat front-row at most of the shows at New York and LFW, often with friends such as Pixie Geldof (at House of Holland, where she wore a double denim combination that actually looked OK, shock horror).
Alexa also released a collection of her own for American label Madewell, who had apparently already been using her as a muse for their own collections. It is such a shame they don't sell Madewell in the UK. Maybe it will be possible to ship? I love the clogs that come in black or mahogany, the sumptuous velvet and the Peter Pan collared dresses.
And I wasn't suprised in the slightest to pick up a copy of Vogue today and see Alexa on the front cover. I can imagine her doing a collection for Topshop, which would probably be better than the Kate Moss collections (sorry Kate). The one problem is that her look doesn't vary very much (see the month of Alexa's fashion choices on www. vogue.co.uk/), which makes me wonder whether she could roll out another collection and it not be a clone of the Madewell one? It will be interesting to see. Anyway, where did I put that Vogue...
I really love the video to this track, composed of 2096 still frames. It does make me sleepy though, in a good way. It envokes in me that feeling when you're having a really good dream and you are just waking up and desperately trying to stay wrapped in the dream narrative. Mmmm.
I know that I'm 'late' in terms of posting on the latest catwalk shows as MJ happened a week ago now, but hey. I really enjoyed the archaic tone of the show - Marc himself freeing the models from their brown paper cage where they were standing to attention like an assembly of soldiers partaking in drill. Accessories were great - especially the evacuee look of never-white casual socks-and-sandals and the tinted glasses.
Jacobs said after the show "It's refreshing to see something that isn't trying so hard to be new," and I really agree. For everything must be new to some extent - you can't stand in the same stream twice. And here I could open a can of worms and ask 'what is the overall point of fashion?' Is it to please the consumer and produce a look and collection that people will want to purchase and wear? Or is the aim to fill a collection with the designer's inspirations, create more of an art-form? I guess it follows a spectrum - some designers like Comme des Garcons couture pander to the latter objective, whereas some designers, such as Marc Jacobs in this collection satisfy the former.
A dreamy ambiance is created with the soundtrack of 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow'. My favourite elements? The juxtaposition of ill-fitting grey tweed and glamorous sequins, chunky knits with velvetty textures, the neutral colour palette, and the fairytale dresses at the end of the show that remind me of the array of acrylics left on Van Gogh's easel from his painting 'Starry Night'.
The Royal Society is celebrated in a collection of stamps by the Royal Mail, released yesterday. I can't wait to get my hands on some!
Left to right: Robert Boyle, founder of modern chemistry; Sir Isaac Newton, physicist and optical pioneer; Benjamin Franklin, inventor of the lightning conductor; Edward Jenner, inventor of vaccination; Charles Babbage, developer of programmable computers; Alfred Russel Wallace, pioneer of evolution theory; Joseph Lister, inventor of antiseptic surgery; Ernest Rutherford, founding father of nuclear physics; Dorothy Hodgkin, inventor of x-ray crystallography; Sir Nicholas Shackleton, pioneer of climate research.
It is a pity to only see one female in the line-up, out of eight scientists. Admittedly, I don't know what 'x-ray crystallography' actually is, so I used Wikipedia to bring me up-to-speed:
"X-ray crystallography is a method of determining the arrangement of atoms within a crystal, in which a beam of X-rays strikes a crystal and diffracts into many specific directions. From the angles and intensities of these diffracted beams, a crystallographer can produce a three-dimensional picture of the density of electrons within the crystal. From this electron density, the mean positions of the atoms in the crystal can be determined, as well as their chemical bonds, their disorder and various other information."
Not that I really feel incredibly up-to-speed now! I really wish I'd done A-levels in Chemistry and Physics (not helping that geek vibe). Anyway, to explain the relevance of this seemingly random discovery, it made it possible to explain why a snow flake has such a precise symmetrical structure (arrangement of hydrogen bonds around water molecule). Pretty cool, huh? Can I claim to be working the 'geek chic' look with this latest fascination?!
Now I never thought I'd find quilts interesting, although I do admit I'm a massive fan of curling up in mine to sleep! But the V&A exhibition that begins on March 20th looks really good. It is called "Quilts, 1700-2010" and will feature 65 carefully-chosen pieces. They will be arranged chronologically and thematically. The themes are 'The Domestic Landscape', 'Private Thoughts, Public Debates', 'British Eccentricity', ' Making a Living' and 'Memory and Memorial'. I like the juxtaposition of public thoughts and private thoughts. I'll post again when I've seen it. Hopefully it will live up to my expectations.
'At the end of the day' - hanging by Natasha Kerr, 2007 V&A website
The Rajah Quilt was made by British women who were convicts on board the HMS Rajah in 1841. It bears the inscription: ‘To the ladies of the convict ship committee, this quilt worked by the convicts of the ship Rajah during their voyage to van Dieman’s Land is presented as a testimony of the gratitude with which they remember their exertions for their welfare while in England and during their passage and also as a proof that they have not neglected the ladies kind admonitions of being industrious. June 1841.’ How wonderful that such a beautiful quilt was created from such awful circumstances.
And as I write, explore and think, my prejudice about quilts has been unearthed as naive. For surely in this day-and-age (sounding like a pensioner, check) anything can be considered an art form. A quilt should not be an exception. And grudgingly, yes Tracy Emin's work comes under this banner.
To Meet My Past, Tracy Emin 2002 V&A website
Right to Life, Grayson Perry 1998 Reminding us of the political application of art.
I brought a beautiful hand-made quilt home from Guatemala, which I have along the back of my bed. When I bought it, I had a long conversation in broken Spanish with the woman who had made it and she told me all about how she made it and where she sourced the dyes and fabrics. I wish I could remember the details.
Quilts and blankets for sale in Flores, Guatemala
A large patchwork quilt in Flores again. I think these cost about £30.
I've always wanted to make one of those patchwork quilts where every square means something to you. A square of your crib blanket as a baby, a patch of your summer dress from junior school, a hand-embroidered poem on a square, a patch of Liberty print etc. In fact, I'm going to add that to my house-high list of things to do when I have the time. That will be when I retire then...
I purchased this novel from a charity book shop for £1.75 whilst in one of those moods where I felt I had better buy something since I was there and couldn't find anything I was looking for. Usually my impulse buys turn out awfully and I end up stuffing 'that hideous dress' or 'boring DVD' to the back of my wardrobe or under my bed. However, this impulse buy is, without a doubt, my best ever.
When I first began reading, I thought the novel would be a typical postcolonial lament about how the American missionaries attempted to 'civilise the heathens'. I was pleasantly suprised. The missionary cause is rapidly exposed as futile as it becomes clear that the villagers of Kilanga care only for basic survival, and any means of. They live by experience: believing in anything that grants a pattern of fortune. This is of stark contrast to the Price girls, through whose eyes the narrative unfolds, who suffer through blaming any misfortune on personal sins, yet slowly shed their religious beliefs.
Their father, Nathan Price is an omnipresent threat until the death of one of the children (I'll let the finer detail remain ambiguous as you need to read it), when his authority dwindles. He seems to symbolise God himself. We never hear direct speech from him, just paraphrases sections of the Bible and he has no narrative voice to give opinion himself.
Another element that I found fascinating in the novel is that, to me, the colonial struggle becomes overshadowed by gender battles. Orleanna Price mentally battles against the colonial power of Nathan Price, and eventually physically overthrows him by leaving. When Leah wants to shoot in the hunt, there is no problem with her being white, it is solely that she is a female. I found these issues to be much more potent than the colonial theme throughout the book.
I could talk about this book for a long time, as it really struck a chord with me. If you're interested in history at all, it provides a good spring board for exploring that further. Anyway, if you are ever wondering what to read, I promise this will not let you down.
Here are some images of the Congo that I found from a Google search (below). I love finishing a book, and then seeing how my visualisations of the landscape described in the novel match up to the actual landscape (if it is not . I think I was pretty spot-on with the Democratic Republic of the Congo, although I'm sure the horrors of civil war and poverty are unimaginable to a Westerner like me. I shan't pretend I can understand.
An example of the American attitude to the Congo. I'll let you judge this for yourselves in relation to the actual images of the Congo, and the American visualisation.
