A Warning From History

Posted By Mark on Apr 6, 2013

You've probably never heard of the Great Cutlery War if you're not an actual piece of cutlery, and even if you were a piece of cutlery with a Google+ account you may still never have heard of it as it was a dark period in the items' history; many knives and forks will still not mention this bloody period to their little teaspoons and sporks to this day. You can imagine, therefore, that it took a great many meetings with lots of unsettling negotiating to finally get permission and funding for a memorial to this awful event and I was pleased to be there at the unveiling yesterday. The choice of sculpture – a reconstruction of the execution of paper cup traitors who sided with the plastic cutlery against the silverware in the Battle of Chichester Train Station – did not meet with everyone's approval, being seen as grisly by some or simply inappropriate by others. However,  I commend the artist for not producing something that celebrates war and, instead, shows what terrible things people – or cutlery in this instance – can do, no matter which side of the conflict they're fighting on. Traitors or heroes? Victors or barbarians? I think the ambiguity and thoughts that it provokes make it a fitting tribute and a powerful warning to future would-be-warmongers. Google+: View post on...

Questions

Posted By Mark on Mar 27, 2013

"Hi, do you have a minute to answer a few questions?" "That depends; are they about hats?" "Hats? Oh, ha ha! No, no, nothing like that." "Well that's good. I don't really know much about hats." "No, these are questions about…" "My wife, on the other hand, is quite knowledgeable where it comes to headwear. It's quite odd, really. I'm not sure why she knows the things she knows." "Hmmm, that is odd, but, anyway, these questions aren't about hats at all." "Then again, she has an irrational hatred of Peruvians – she considers them a deceptive bunch and it ires her immensely – and your hat looks like it's from that region." "I see." "She'd probably get quite agitated if she saw your hat, thinking you were a Peruvian. You're not a Peruvian are you?" "I'm not a Peruvian, no." "Mind, you'd probably deny it if you were on account of your deceptive nature." "I… don't really know what to say to that." "Never mind. I've got nothing against Peruvians anyway, so you can ask me anything." "Excellent, I'll…" "Just nothing about hats." "It won't be about hats, I promise." "Then fire away!" "Great! Which would you prefer to wear: a trilby or a sombrero?" "You said you wouldn't…" "Por la gloria del Perú!" Google+: View post on...

A Damp Weekend In Dorset

Posted By Mark on Mar 18, 2013

A bit of a spur of the moment thing, but this weekend my wife and I decided to have a short break in the neighbouring county of Dorset. The weekend started on Friday evening. Many do. Straight from work we dropped off work-related stuff, grabbed a bag full of clean clothes and toiletries, and set off westwards down the A27 towards Bournemouth where a hotel was booked. It rained on the journey. Rain, actually, may not be accurate enough to describe what the car had to travel through in its passage from Hampshire to Dorset. Quite frankly, if you’d been a passenger in the car and I’d turned around to comment that I was sorry for having driven into the sea but with luck we’d make it to a distant shore before the seals around the window gave way and heralded our drowning doom you wouldn’t have had cause to disbelieve me. It was wet. The speed was slow, the concentration was high, but eventually we reached the hotel. That evening we had a quick walk around the area near the hotel but it was dark and raining – of course – and we were hungry so after a quick perusal at what was on offer we decided to eat at a place called Cristallo. As we arrived a couple were just leaving and decided to recommend the steak. I followed their advice and it was one of the best peppercorn fillet steaks I’ve had. Nice. Also consumed: garlic bread, tiger prawns, desserts, and a bottle of chianti. Very nice. Friday finished with a couple of stops in two nearby pubs. The first was busy and noisy and… odd. Everything seemed geared for young people but there were precious few of them. We actually constituted some of the younger members and that’s wrong. The second pub, right next door, was a pub that couldn’t decide if it wanted to be a sports bar or an Irish bar and so settled on both at the same time. Sitting next to a photo of the Southampton 1990/91 football team encouraged us to drink up fast and vacate the premises. That and the pub calling time at eleven. Eleven. On a Friday. To go with the photo it was like drinking in the nineties too. Saturday! After getting some inspiration from the literature left in our hotel room for tourists we decided to head for Dorchester. There now follows a message to Dorset: Dear Dorset, Please consider relocating some of the revenue from the three point eight million speed cameras in your county towards repairing the potholes in your roads. I mean...

One-Eyed Monster

Posted By Mark on Mar 13, 2013

The Art Of The Self Shot

Posted By Mark on Mar 11, 2013

Browse the web long enough – about six minutes should do the job – and you’ll stumble upon a self-photograph taken by a partially-dressed, young girl in a room in her house. Well, you do if you browse the sites I browse. I don’t know why young girls feel the need to strip naked or as near-nude as makes no difference but it’s clear that there’s either peer pressure or herd instinct at play here. As somewhat of a keen photographer I find the pictorial style represented by these undressed girls fascinating on many levels. Do they obey the rule of thirds or do they flaunt it? Are level shots the norm or is a jaunty angle considered de rigeur when snapping oneself in the nip? Actually, none of these questions can be answered as intense investigation has determined that there is only one rule when taking a self shot: include the counterpoint of interest. Self shots need a counterpoint of interest; something which draws the eye from the girl and then to the counterpoint, then back to the girl with a puzzled look on the face, back to the counterpoint, then to the girl in shock. It’s this interactive element that makes the self shot so absorbing and the photographic style such an engrossing art form. In very short order I’ve become something of a expert in the style. Let’s take a look at some examples: A brunette girl with an enigmatic smile stands in a bathroom, framed by towels. It couldn’t be a more normal scene played out in many bathrooms the world over. But then you see the sock. Why is there just one? Where is the other sock? There’s wonderful symbolism of loss here, something we’ve all experienced as we hunt through the tumble dryer and then run a hand around the still-damp inside of the washing machine drum wondering where it is. A wall covering hides a piece of conventional artwork in the background making certain that we’re not distracted from the art filling up the rest of the volume. So we can let our eyes fall on the scene: a girl with blonde hair and white knickers stands serenely in the middle of chaos. This is the eye of the storm and a clear reference to the camera with its picture-taking eye that casually freezes moments of continual motion every day in a way that should seem like magic to us but yet we take for granted. Beautifully-crafted. Another shot of a girl in chaotic surroundings but this is decidedly different. Here we see a short-haired girl trapped by the mess; it’s a...

Love Me?

Posted By Mark on Mar 11, 2013

"Will you still love me when I'm bald?" "Of course. I don't love you for your hair." "And will you still love me when I put on weight?" "Even more than now as there will be more of you!" "And will you still love me when I'm a giant slug who walks around in a t-shirt and no trousers in a blizzard?" "Absolutely!" And she did. Google+: View post on...