Archives for posts with tag: The Fall
Living in the Gaps (Landscape study), digital construct, dimensions variable, 2019

As some of you may know, I’m a fan of the group, The Fall, whose chief creator Mark E Smith sadly died in January 2018. This post is named after a 7″ single which was released by the group in 1982. The image above has nothing to do with The Fall, except I suppose tangentially – I’ve listened to them so much their aesthetic must have seeped into my process somewhere…

The painting below on the other hand I did “for MES” – it didn’t start out that way, but it as it neared completion it seemed to fit…anyway…

Painting for MES, 2018, Acrylic paint and watercolour pencil on canvas, 80 x 80 cm

Diary Images

Spend so much of my time looking down nowadays…these were both taken in London in the first week of the year.

3rd January 2020
3rd January 2020

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Patti Fogarty

I’d like to dedicate this post to Patti Fogarty, who was a brilliant street photographer, portraitist and blogger (and one of the first people I “met” on WordPress). Her photographs were really something else – a celebration. I miss them and I miss her presence online. There’s a very nice tribute to Patti on Monochromia and you can see her work on her blog Nylon Daze.

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If you want to see other work, visit my Instagram here or my website here.

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Painting for MES, 2018

Painting for MES, 2018, Acrylic paint and watercolour pencil on canvas, 80 x 80 cm

 

This painting is dedicated to Mark E Smith of The Fall. It was begun when he was ill and while I was working on it he died. There’s no real connection to Mark in either idea or execution (except of course that The Fall have been playing in the background since 1983 when a friend lent me Perverted By Language).

The only time I met MES was at a mini-gig at the HMV on Oxford Street in London to launch the album The Frenz Experiment. The group played a short set and then sat behind desks signing albums for the fans. Mark was friendly and polite (which was a surprise given that the music press portrayed him as a kind of fierce, cantankerous despot).

Over the years I’ve grown to love The Fall and Mark’s gnarled, dazzling poetry – from their first album, Live At The Witch Trials (1979) to their last New Facts Emerge (2017) there have been very few duds (although if you’re thinking of collecting their albums, steer clear of the live albums and compilations until you’re well and truly obsessed). And Mark E Smith went out as brilliant as he came in – the final album’s a stunning culmination, along with Sublingual Tablet (2015), of his work with Dave Spurr, Keiron Melling, Peter Greenway and Elena Poulou – a golden run of albums that started in 2008.

When I’m dead and gone
My vibrations will live on
In vibes not vinyl through the years
People will dance to my waves

Mark E Smith, Psykick Dancehall (thanks to The Annotated Fall)

If you are interested in learning more about The Fall a great place to start is The Fall Online Forum.

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Ashley Lily Scarlett and I are engaged in a conversation in pictures called Between Scarlett and Guest. Check it out.

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Light / Fireworks, 2015– Light / Fireworks, 2015 –

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Ashley Lily Scarlett and I have started a new blog together. It’s a conversation in pictures and it’s called Between Scarlett and Guest.

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Underground Medicine, 2014– Underground Medicine, 2014 –

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Self Portrait, 2014– Self with Wall, 2014 –

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Underground Medicine, 2014– Underground Medicine, 2014 –

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This post is dedicated to Leanne Cole.

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Can Can Summer, 2014

Can Can Summer, 2014
Inkjet print, acrylic paint, collage, digital enhancement

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 When I was thirteen or fourteen I was friends with a boy, T, who lived across the road from me. We lived on a suburban estate that was being built around us – ours was the second house to go up, Thomas’ was the seventh, I think. For years we lived on or near a building site. And, as the leaves blew off the calendar, the developers bought up more and more land, and made a miniature sprawl of identikit houses (except that with each new road, the houses got smaller), from what had been muddy tracks and fields of hay. Bored teenagers, we used to ride around on our bikes, looking for amusement. One day, T decided it would be best if we broke every window in the developer’s office. Whoever it was that worked there, knocked off early in the afternoon. We waited until dusk to ride past and check it out. There was no one about, so we returned with stones, larger than our hands, picked from the beginnings of the Hook Pit Farm Lane part of the estate. T smashed the first few windows and asked me what I was waiting for. So, I smashed a few. It was meaningless and stupid and more fun than I expected.

While studying archictecture at Cornell University, Gordon Matta Clark (1943-1978) invented the concept of Anarchitecture. The name combines anarchy and architecture. In the Seventies, Matta Clark formed an artists’ group of the same name with Laurie Anderson, Tina Girouard, Carol Goodden, Suzanne Harris, Jene Highstein, Bernard Kirschenbaun, Richard Landry, and Richard Nonas. Their work critiqued the modernist impulses of contemporary late Sixties, early Seventies American culture, within which architecture was seen as a symbol for that culture’s worst excesses and drawbacks. Matta Clarke’s practice introduced new and radical modes of physically exploring and subverting urban architecture, and some of his most well-known projects involved laboriously cutting holes into floors of abandoned buildings or, as with Splitting (1974), slicing a suburban villa in two.

According to Floater Magazine, “In December 1976, Matta-Clark was invited by the Institute of Architecture to exhibit together with the New York Five in the show Idea as Model. His proposal was to place in every window casement of the Institute a photograph of some old or new building from the South Bronx of which the windows had been broken and vandalized. This way, he wanted to comment on vandalism as the social reality of many ‘ideal’ urban schemes. In order to avoid the pure aesthetisation of the project, he got the permission to break some of the windows of the Institute. But after a late party, he returned in the exhibition and shot holes in all of the windows of the building. The Institute was outraged. His action was one more expression of range against the architectural machine of development. The shooting aimed to mimic the despairing delinquency behind the endemic vandalism in the city.” I think he got a taste for it too.

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Wolf Kidult Man, 2014

Wolf Kidult Man, 2014
Injet print, acrylic paint, digital enhancement

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Can Can Summer, Wolf Kidult Man and Is This New? are all tracks on The Fall’s 27th album, Imperial Wax Solvent (2008). It’s a lo-fi masterpiece. According to Wikipedia: “The album received some press attention when, due to a pressing error, the music of the album was recorded onto the first shipment of Faryl Smith’s debut album Faryl. The record label, Universal Classics and Jazz, was said to have “severe words” with the pressing plant. The incident attracted international attention. Whatever. You can listen to Taurig off the album here.

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Is This New?, 2014– Is This New?, 2014 –

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I’m basically the idea person. I’m not physically involved in the production. I don’t have the necessary abilities, so I go to the top people, whether I’m working with my foundry — Tallix — or in physics. I’m always trying to maintain the integrity of the work. I recently worked with Nobel prize winner Richard P. Feynman. I also worked with Wasserman at Dupont and Green at MIT. I worked with many of the top physicists and chemists in the country.

(extract from an interview with Jeff Koons, Journal of Contemporary Art, 1986)

SONY DSC– The  Aphid #1, 2013 –

Karl melted away. “Evening, Mr. Klinkel. Been on a little adventure have we?” Karl rubbed at his throat. “You could have phoned us first,” said Clarke, “like Mrs. Hardy.” She emerged from the shadows, dressed for grieving. “Hello Karl,” said Cordelia. “Did you engage with the young woman?” said Clarke. “The maid?” “Yes.” “No.” “Hear anything?” “A tape loop. Just bass and drums.” “Nothing else?” “No.” “I wonder what she’s playing at?” said Clarke. “How do you know what’s going on?” said Karl. The detective turned away and talked to his sergeant. Ute was talking to a uniformed policeman. Karl walked over. “I think my wife needs medical attention,” he said. He held up her arm so that the PC could see the injury. “Come with me,” said the PC. Their feet crunched through the gravel in a loping rhythm. “Not far to the road now,” he said and squeezed her shoulder. “I feel funny, Karl. The girl poisoned me,” she said. Her pupils were dilated. Something moved in the trees. “What’s that?” she said. There was a soft sound. A crunch of gravel that wasn’t theirs and an arm around his neck. Karl tried to shout, but the arm tightened around his windpipe. Something hard knocked the revolver out of his hand. Then Ute was pulled away. He was being propelled towards the road. He stamped on a foot. There was a sharp intake of breath very close to his ear. Then a male voice cursed. Outside the gates sat three police cars. DI Clarke walked towards him. “OK, sergeant,” he said. The hands that and females are produced. Between draped her arms around his neck August and September mating takes place and kissed him on the lips. “Come during flight. After mating, male adults die on, let’s get out of here,” and females shed their wings and he said. She leaned on him. Return to the soil to overwinter. He could feel her breath on his neck – his reward. They turned the corner into the entrance hall. “What about Tony?” she said. “We’ll call the police as soon as we can,” he said. Together they staggered out of the front door, across the terrace and onto the gravel drive. “We have a bit of walking to do. Are you strong enough?” he said. Ute lifted her head and nodded. There was a strange hush. The normal night sounds seemed absent. Karl smiled at her. Emerge in spring and lay eggs. The little smoke. He tried the handle first brood will be fed by and the door swung inwards. “Oh my the queen for three to four God, Karl,” cried Ute. Her dress weeks before pupating in the soil. Adult was marked with dark patches, her workers emerge after two weeks to hair matted and he could see maintain the nest and feed the even in the dark that there queen and subsequent larvae. When adults find were bloody marks on the stacks a food source they leave a phalanx of sheets and towels. “I didn’t shoot trail of chemicals known as pheromones did I?” he said. She staggered back to the nest for others towards him, her arms outstretched. “No, to follow. Towards the end of summer my darling, you rescued me.” She winged males to the queen and her nest simply makes larder. Beyond the shelves piled high space for another. For this reason with packets, tins and jars was it is best to focus on a thick wooden door, locked, controlling only those nests that are course. He knocked on it. “Karl?” causing real problems. “Adult worker ants are,” said the voice on the other side, “all female, wingless, and around 5mm”. “I’m coming,” said Karl. “Stand away in length. Queens are significantly longer and from the door.” He heard scuffling. Fatter larvae are white legless grubs, roughly holding the revolver at arm’s length, 5mm long. Each colony can vary – in he pointed it – at the door’s size from as small as 500 lock and squeezed the trigger. There individuals too many thousands. After over-wintering, females was a terrific bang, and the wind. Something glinted Heaps of earth around the nest on the ground just to the entrance can be a nuisance in left of the front door. He the lawn where they interfere with crouched down to take a look. An old fashioned key. It could bury low-growing plants. Karl stepped into the red ant Myrmica rubra and the main corridor. Don’t turn on the black ant. Queen ants are the lights. To the left was a fly in from neighbouring gardens all a short hall at the end the time but are killed by of which, on the right, was ants from existing nests. Killing a door. The door “She has locked me in the small piles of earth around laundry cupboard,” said the voice [in holes in soil, lawns, paths, and German. Karl located the ventilation grille at the base of exterior walls. To it he said, “I am Adults and may be in the house coming.” There was nothing for it, around fresh and stored food, but to shoot the lock off on sap-sucking pest-infested plants. Large swarms hit the front door. Karl rounded on the flying ants appear in late corner to the terrace and noticed summer. Plants affected. Garden ants rarely cause damage to Cordelia’s pot plants. However, they feed on the garden, its oversized drooping blooms grown sugary foods, oily seeds, honeydewed and sinister in the dark. The tree’s aphid-infected plants and other small insects rattled in.

Your Heart Out, 2013

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Cab It Up!, 2013

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SONY DSCThe Classical, 2013

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