Other Culture (film, media, fine art, exhibitions, other people’s writing etc.) – Page 12

An Interesting Day Culminating With Twenty Minutes Spent Watching Dire Situation Comedy, 11 October 2016

People who know me well know that I watch very little television other than cricket and news.

So how did an interesting day end with me watching extracts from not one but two dire situation comedy shows? Here’s how.

I had arranged to meet Richard Goatley at lunchtime after a noonday game of real tennis at Lord’s. My game went very well as it happens, as evidenced by Richard who popped in to see the final point and asked if I wanted to start our meeting with some lunch in the Tavern, which I did.

Over lunch, before getting down to business proper, Richard and I chatted about a myriad of topics, including a rather geeky conversation about per capita GDP in various European countries and then, somehow, the subject of dire situation comedy shows on television.

Richard asked me if I had ever seen a show named “Come Back Mrs Noah” with Mollie Sugden in the lead. It was set in the year 2050 on a spaceship that was accidentally launched with a housewife and reluctant scientists on board. I confessed that I had not. Richard told me that I simply had to watch the first episode (which is available on YouTube) for its sheer direness, although he suspected that I wouldn’t last the full 30 minutes.

Richard googled “Mrs Noah” to extract some details about the show’s provenance and found a list of the 10 most dire situation comedy shows which included one, “Heil Honey, I’m Home”, about Hitler and Eva Braun, which neither of us had ever come across.

When dividing up the action points at the end of the meeting proper (yes, we did discuss plenty of real Middlesex CCC strategy business, thank you), we agreed that I would watch said episode of “Mrs Noah” and Richard would track down “Heil Honey”.

Come Back Mrs Noah was not hard to find – even easier for you – click here for the first 10 minute reel and (if you can bear it) you’ll see links to the other reels too.

Mrs Noah was not quite as bad as Richard led me to expect, although it was bad. There was one really prescient joke right at the start when the newsreader mentioned “The Margaret Thatcher Memorial Statue in Moscow’s Red Square”. As the show was written in 1977, 18 months before Thatcher came to power, I thought that was an intriguing joke to set in 2050.

There was a very non-PC 1970s joke in which the spaceship’s lift spoke with a rather unconvincing Trini-meets-Bajan accent and the reporter says, “they make the lifts in Notting Hill Gate nowadays”.

Another non-PC joke (presumably set to be a runner) was a sentient camera that was said to be able to frame and focus on the most interesting part of any scene; the device continuously followed Mollie Sugden around, clearly pointing its lens at er bust.

My dad would have laughed at that runner, as he would have laughed at the runner in which the computerised vending machine for making tea or whatever emitted a fart sound before dispensing its contents. I quite liked the idea of the computer (in the hands of posh, unworldly scientists) taking far longer to botch up making a cup of tea than it would take for a competent person simply to make a cup of tea. Indeed I enjoyed the notion that the whole enterprise was Heath Robinson-like – an unconfident, comedic, British answer to Star Trek.

But 10 to 12 minutes in I could see where the show/series was going (nowhere near orbit, I fancied) and what most of the runners were going to be. It wasn’t all that bad – it seemed to me no worse than other shows from the same stable, “Are You Being Served”, “It Ain’t Half Hot Mum” etc., faint praise as I always found those shows lame. I gave up after 15 minutes.

I’d put aside the full 30 minutes, so I decided to track down “Heil Honey I’m Home”, which was also pretty easy to find – even easier for you – click here.

Heil Honey is truly terrible. Exceptionally awful. Simply not funny. This is not because of the subject matter – I have seen and heard Hitler made funny a few times – the show simply does not present a potentially funny scenario. Perhaps the idea (Hitler in a suburban American home) would be worth a one minute sketch, along the lines of a sketch I remember fondly, the “Mr Hitler Joins An Assertiveness Training Course” sketch – (was that on the Burkiss Way or Radio Active or something else?). But even a one minute sketch needs a joke or two.

Heil Honey I’m Home is a crime against hilarity. It brought to mind the late great Ivan Shakespeare’s uncharacteristically catty line about a comedy writer whose work he didn’t like, “he basically only has the one joke, which he recycles in every sketch he writes…and the sad part is…his one joke isn’t funny.” Ouch.

The Heil Honey title did remind me of one of my weirdest lyric writing episodes, “I Only Have Heils for You”, only partially explained, with the lyrics set out – click here – I think you’ll laugh reading this.

I lasted five minutes on “Heil Honey”; I think I showed perseverance staying for five. I didn’t laugh once. But worth the experience as I now know where my lowest comedy ebb sits. Thanks Richard.

Julieta, Curzon Mayfair, 10 September 2016

After my first international representative appearance for the MCC against the visiting Australians at Lord’s, Janie and I went on to the Curzon Mayfair to see the new Almodóvar movie, Julieta.

We thought it was an absolutely excellent movie; interesting story, beautiful cinematography, fine acting, the lot.

If you want to know all about it, here is the IMDb entry for the movie.

It has received very good reviews on the whole:

I guess Almodóvar movies aren’t everyone’s style, but when he’s on form we love his movies. This one was just the ticket for us that evening, rounding off a thoroughly enjoyable day.

You Say You Want a Revolution? Records and Rebels 1966-1970, V&A, 9 September 2016

Turn off your mind, relax and float down stream to the V&A.

We were fortunate, through Janie’s membership, to be able to attend the members’ preview of this wonderful exhibition late afternoon/early evening.

The exhibition is well described on the V&A site here.

We both absolutely loved the exhibition.

Of course, the sixties is still very much on our minds in the aftermath of Janie and Kim’s groovy happening – OK, so the above photo is from that happening, not the exhibition.

Still, you could be forgiven for thinking that the V&A curator might have been hanging out at our groovy happening taking notes ahead of the exhibition.

They used a similar mind-blowing sound-bleed technique as the one we used at the party in the themed rooms.

The penultimate room in the exhibition is a sixties festivals room, with festival memorabilia, Woodstock (the movie) on a loop and AstroTurf on the ground so you can chill in a sixties-rock-fest-stylee.

It is a great show. If you read this posting in time (I think it runs to February 2017) get thee a ticket to the V&A show and surry down to South Kensington to see the show. You won’t be disappointed.

a rainbow of only one hue, by Simon David, Book Launch and Performance, 8 September 2016

We’ve known Simon for a very long time. He runs the book stall at the Royal Court while “quietly” (surely he tells everyone who’ll listen, not just us) nurturing an avocation as a writer/director. We’ve been to see a couple of his plays over the years.

He’s been talking about this collection of poetry for a long while; indeed I seem to recall that the original date he had set for the launch/performance was due to be in February while we were in Nicaragua.

But when we saw Simon a few months ago, he told us the launch date had slipped to September as he slipped a slip into my hand with the details. There were far fewer details on the slip than there were on this Facebook event page.

The event was at The Library, Covent Garden, a venue Janie had heard about and was keen to see. It is quite a stunning venue – the website gives some insight into that.

We arrived in good time for the 19:00 start, although in fact the performers were rehearsing/warming up at that hour and the performance didn’t really start until 20:00ish. Towards the end of that waiting hour, a very talented singer sang to us for a while. Simon mingled and sold me a copy of the book. We spoke with one or two people and saw the backs of several others as the place got quite crowded.

One or two of the poems were very well performed. Beyond the Bank, for example, by a very eloquent actress. Some might have worked better had they been read rather than performed, especially as the performers were sometimes struggling for their lines. It was, after all, a book launch, so reading rather than performing would have seemed reasonable.

During the interval Janie and I went upstairs to the mezzanine, where it was less crowded and from whence we could make a discreet exit ahead of the pack if we so chose.

We so chose.

A Visit To The Tate Modern, Primarily To See Georgia O’Keeffe, 8 July 2016

We booked the day off, primarily to see the Georgia O’Keeffe exhibition at the Tate Modern.

I arranged to play real tennis in the morning and had also arranged to collect my new super-duper tennis racket when there, which Janie was very kindly buying for me as my birthday present. Janie and I ummed and ahhed about the logistics for the day, eventually landing on the idea that Janie would come to the flat and we’d go to Lord’s in Dumbo together. Janie quite enjoys sitting in the dedans gallery reading and/or watching the tennis. So that we did.

I had a hard game. We watched Chris playing with a very good player for a while after I showered and then went back to the flat for a quick bite of lunch before heading off by tube to the Tate Modern.

On arrival, we had a quick look at the Mona Hatoum exhibition before going to the O’Keeffe. As Janie is a member with a concession for a guest, we effectively have freedom of the place for all exhibitions.

Some of the Mona Hatoum pieces are very interesting, even stunning, but most of her work is quite stark. Janie described it as violent. Certainly dark.

The highlight of our visit was unquestionably the Georgia O’Keeffe. A rare chance to see her work and a huge one-off collection of it too. I particularly liked her more abstract pieces (both the early and late period abstracts). Janie liked the flower pictures as well as the abstracts – indeed Janie liked most of it. Incredible use of colour. The story of her development as an artist, under the wing of Alfred Stieglitz, is also interesting. Afterwards, I bought Janie a book oriented towards that aspect of O’Keeffe’s story.

Tired, we took some refreshment in the members’ cafe. Then, revived, decided we had time also to see the Bhupen Khakhar and one or two other things as long as we headed straight to the Wigmore Hall to see Christian McBride and Chick Corea after that.

I wasn’t much taken by the Bhupen Khakhar work. Some of the later works were quite interesting and I like the colours he used, but most of the work seemed very crude to me (artistically I mean, although also, as it happens, in terms of subject matter). Still, glad we took the time to see it.

Then we went to have a look at the Mark Rothko Seagram Murals, which we hadn’t seen before. Neither of us felt the contemplative spirituality promised. But again, glad I have seen them now.

Finally, we went across to the Switch House in search of the macaws (which we missed out on last time) only to be disappointed again. The owners have now withdrawn the macaws temporarily because they don’t seem happy being looked at by lots of people…probably not a great idea to exhibit them at the most visited modern art museum in the world, then.

Preview of Switch House, The New Tate Modern Building, 15 June 2016

After doing Shakespeare’s Globe, we thought that 15:00ish would be a good time to see the New Tate – after the lunchtime crowd and before the “knock off work a little early” crowd. We were right; a bit of a queue, but not too bad.

We started at the bottom and worked our way up slowly, having been warned that the lifts would be a long wait. At the very bottom, a few small exhibitions in The Tanks, such as a weird video room where you lie on cushions and look at videos of naked young women screaming and shouting. Another was supposed to react to the noises we made but seemed unresponsive to our noises. Also down there, a musical event (see picture above) of musical instruments powered by air tanks and other geeky-looking gadgetry.

Then we wended our way up, having a quick look at the new exhibits. We were a bit disappointed that we couldn’t see the macaws in the Brazilian exhibit for “animal welfare” reasons, which clearly don’t extend to keeping the birds cooped up regularly per se.

We were especially taken by one exhibit with “lie down in a cage” potential – in my case because I liked the idea of a lie down at that stage; in Janie’s case because she saw it as a big-time photo opportunity.

Grrr

Then we carried on to the top, taking a quick look at the restaurant (which looked a bit “uti” for its price) and then the stunning viewing gallery.

After the Tate, we went on to one of Helen Baker’s Mousse wine tastings. This one was fairly impromptu and well-timed for us as her place is just around the corner from the Tate Modern.

It was mostly roses: Les Mille Vignes Rose 2014 and Domaine Malmont Rose 2015. But actually the highlight was a most unusual white: Les Mille Vignes Muscat Sec 2014 – the most interesting dry muscat I have ever tasted.

As usual some really nice interesting people there – mostly the firm of architects who work in the building. Naturally the conversation turned to the referendum at times. We were unquestionably in with an in crowd.

Shakespeare’s Globe Bankside, Tour and Exhibition, 15 June 2016

Janie and I put aside this day primarily for a preview of the new Tate Modern building, as friends were invited for a sneak peek before the general public on the Tuesday evening or Wednesday before opening.

We also wanted to do the tour and exhibition think at Shakespeare’s Globe, which I joined a few months ago and which we would be visiting as audience members that Saturday.

As Janie turned up late at the flat and as I ascertained that we would not see the theatre itself on the tour unless we turned up by 12:30, it was indeed the 12:30 tour we took.

It was good. Our guide showed us around the main theatre itself inside and outside, explaining the background to the project and the extent to which they have attempted authenticity in design and build.

Soon we were thrown out because they were getting ready for the matinee. I suppose the building is all a bit über-mock-tudor, but then we know all about that on the Hanger Hill Garden Estate.

We then went into The Swan (the pub bit, not the fine dining bit), for some light lunch; not bad food – Janie was more impressed with the place than I was. Nice quirky decor though; a mix of arty grunge and traditional/gastro pub.

After lunch, back for a quick look around the exhibition, which I thought was cool. Lots of interactive toys to play with and a lot of stuff about Edward Alleyn as well as Shakespeare (not least the discovery of the Rose Theatre ruins which helped with the Globe’s design of course). Still, this interested me more than it interested Janie, who called time on the exhibition by disappearing.

I found her again soon enough outside the building and we moved on to the Tate Modern, which I shall write up separately.

The 2016 Cowdrey Lecture by Brendon McCullum, Lord’s, 6 June 2016

Janie had kept most of the afternoon clear and I had arranged to play real tennis before the lecture, so we hatched a plan for Janie to join me at Lord’s early and use the dedans gallery for a spot of watching and reading. She was yet to see me play until that day.

The plan worked well; Janie arrived soon after me, so by the time I’d changed she was already in the dedans gallery having a look at the combatants. Meanwhile, I had found out, somewhat to my surprise, that I was to play doubles that day, with Chris Swallow the coach as my partner and a couple of experienced doubles players as our opponents. It would be good experience for me but quite a challenge as I had only played doubles a couple of times before. It all went well enough and Janie said she enjoyed watching it.

I watched the next pair with her for a while, then went to sauna, shower and change before watching the end of that later pair’s game for a while. Then we put my equipment into the car (Janie had found a top spot on the St John’s Wood Road) and then wandered round to the Nursery Pavilion for the event.

The first hour was a drinks reception; very pleasant. We met Ian Lovett as we went in and spent some time talking with him, Mike O’Farrell, his wife Sue (whom we met for the first time that evening), Geoff Norris and a gentleman named Tim whom I’ve spoken to at Middlesex events in the past. Ian also introduced me to Colin Graves, who seemed very pleasant once you get used to his slightly scary grimace-like smile.

We spotted a little late that most people had filed into the lecture area, but I also realised that it was the central block and the near block that had almost filled up. We quickly walked around the front to the furthest block, where we were able to get excellent seats in the second row quite near the podium. I realised how good the seats were shortly after, when I realised that Mike Brearley and Andrew Strauss had taken up seats in the row behind us.

We sat next to a couple of antipodean gentlemen, both named Mike, which was easy to remember as I observed that the podium stood empty except for two mikes awaiting McCullum’s speech. The antipodean Mikes reported that they had been drinking in the tavern before the reception and had shared a jar with Brendon McCullum in there; they showed us photographic evidence which seemed pretty incriminating. The two Mikes were jolly company for the few minutes we waited for the speech.

Roger Knight welcomed us all to Lord’s in his inimitable style. He’s far more convincing in the welcoming role of President than he was as Secretary, if my Guardian-reported “Cow Corner: Up The Revolution” tussle with him in 2003 over women in the Bowlers’ Bar is a fair way to judge his previous tenure. Probably isn’t.

Then the speech, the full transcript of which is available here. Public speaking is clearly not what Brendon McCullum does best. Janie said afterwards that she didn’t think Brendon McCullum was coherent. Actually I think he was both eloquent and coherent in the content of his material, which was scripted, but he was a little garbled in delivery. Whether that was nerves or the Dutch courage he took before the lecture or a bit of both it’s hard to tell. In any case, it was very interesting and it was a privilege to attend and hear the lecture live.

Then after a quick podium change, video malfunction and tie-clip mike malfunction, a round table discussion led well by Mark Nicholas, with Kumar Sangakkara and Eoin Morgan joining Brendon McCullum to answer questions. Interesting, but our tummy’s were rumbling by the end of it, especially as Janie had been led to expect Big Al DeLarge’s veal meatballs with pasta and salad for dinner, which in the circumstances was a relaxing and enjoyable alternative to the grand pavilion dinner which we had considered and rejected.

We discussed Kumar Sangakkara’s erudition, relative to that of Brendon McCullum, but Janie opined that she had heard enough of Sangakkara for now, “we all know how clever he is”, so she awarded higher marks to McCullum for bravery. An interesting echo of their relative cricketing skills/appeal too, perhaps.

Regardless of all that, we’d both had a very enjoyable afternoon and evening at Lord’s.

Mustang, Curzon Mayfair, 20 May 2016

After an intense afternoon of baking in Borough Market, Janie and I sullied forth to the Curzon Mayfair, laden with bread, cheese and charcuterie, to see Mustang. We’d both read about it and had both agreed that this was a rare “must see movie” for us.

It was just that.

Details and reviews about Mustang are available through the usual sources – here on IMDb, for example…

…and here on Rotten Tomatoes.

We thought it really was a cracking good movie. It deserves all the plaudits and awards it is receiving. The acting is terrific and the style captivating. Janie and I were both tired, yet we were both gripped and moved from start to finish.

While I can understand why so many people are comparing it with The Virgin Suicides, I think there are so many differences in plot, context and style that the comparison is positively unhelpful.

Not least, I found The Virgin Suicides an eerie, even creepy micro story about mysterious happenings in a small town. Whereas Mustang, to me, is a far more straightforward narrative mirror, reflecting the schism in Turkish society between modern liberal and traditional conservative cultures.

Anyway, don’t listen to me; the only way to judge this film properly is to see it. Then discuss it with your companion(s) afterwards, as Janie and I did at length. In our case, over bread, cheese, charcuterie and some rather jolly red wine.

Bread Ahead Half Day Traditional French Baking Course, Borough Market, 20 May 2016

“What a monumental fougasse, Ged,”…I think that’s what she said

It doesn’t seem like nearly a whole year since DJ, very generously, gave Daisy this birthday present. A couple of half day baking course certificates for the Bread Ahead Bakery School.

By the time we got around to thinking about booking something, then realising that the conjunction of the course that we fancy with the dates that we can do and the availability of places on a course that we fancy on a date that we could do…

…you get the picture. So there we were on a sunny Friday in late May, just a few weeks ahead of Daisy’s next birthday, heading for an afternoon of baking in Borough Market.

I had in fact taken the whole day off work, playing a couple of hours of real tennis in the morning. I should have learnt my lesson a few weeks earlier about playing two consecutive hours of that game; that’s a bit more than my body fancies these days and once again the physical fatigue set in a few hours later.

Still, we were in good time getting to Borough, but I forgot to take into account Daisy’s excitement at seeing that sort of foodie market. “We’ll be late for school – we can come back and look at the market after class,” I said. That was a wise suggestion for several reasons, not least because later we would be armed with loads of bread in search of yummy stuff to eat with bread tonight.

Our teacher for the day was none other than Aiden Chapman, a self-confessed dough anarchist and bread revolutionary. This man has a passion for artisanal bread-making and a visceral hatred of the sliced white factory loaf. A little reminiscent of the real ale campaign back in the day; indeed he even uses the term “real bread”.

From what we could gather, Aiden Chapman is one of the architects of the Bread Ahead baking courses but he only occasionally delivers them, although he is the very teacher depicted on the promotional picture we were given with our certificates last year:

We are in a class of 12 to learn traditional French baking. We are to make a campagne loaf, a baguette and fougasse. We start with the campagne loaf, which takes the longest to bake. Mercifully, we are provided with a small chunk of (one day old) mother dough to use as part of our loaves, otherwise it would have needed to be a two day course.

Soon enough we have measured and added the flour, salt, water and yeast to make up the complete dough. Then we kneed the dough. All by hand, of course. At this juncture, my fatigue really kicked in, although I didn’t realise it at first. But while all the others, including Daisy, seemed to be getting exactly the texture and consistency Aiden described, I just seemed to be pushing my messy lump of stuff around the table and getting my hands covered in bread-making ingredients.

“Use the heel of your hand and really stretch that gluten,” said Aiden…

…”try standing up and doing it”…

…”like this,” he said, taking over my bundle of disengaged ingredients and with a few swift movements of his hands bringing it together as something a lot closer to everyone else’s lump of dough.

After I spent a couple more minutes emulating the teacher’s firm movements, while mumbling under my breath to Daisy that I didn’t suppose anyone else in the class had exerted themselves to the tune of two hours on the real tennis court that morning, my lump of dough looked pretty much like everyone else’s, although my hands still looked the most anarchic of the lot. Perhaps I was taking the teacher’s ideas about dough anarchy to new hands-on levels.

Next up, baguette dough for both the baguette and the fougasse. The base or “poolish” for this dough is a much easier consistency than the mother dough for the campagne loaf. Also, I suspect that the learning from the first experience helped greatly with the second. This time, I felt the consistency of my dough change in keeping with Aiden’s timings and the look of my fellow pupils’ dough. “I’m proud of you, Ged,” was one encouraging remark from teacher Aiden. “You are a complete master baker”…at least I think that’s what he said.

Anyway, the second dough was for both the baguette and the fougasse – it had never occurred to me before that these two very different breads could come from the same dough – small differences in how the dough is rested, shaped and treated before baking making all that difference to the final result. So we rested, shaped and baked our baguettes and fougasses after rescuing our campagne loaves from the ovens.

At the end of it all, we had all made three mighty artisanal breads to take a way with us and got to try Aiden’s example of each with some strong-tasting country butter and pesto.

Daisy and I then whisked around Borough Market buying some cheese, charcuterie and fruit before heading off to the pictures with all our foodie possessions.

It was a great fun afternoon.

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