I have just spent a typically over-stuffed three days in London, ending in an over-stuffed Virgin train carriage en route home to the north sitting next to someone enduring a protracted phone text relationship melt-down with someone called Trevor (not that I was peering over her shoulder, it's just the cramped conditions y'know). Thank God for my iPod - though I sometimes wonder if my total reliance on the 'shuffle' mode implies some kind of fundamentally indecisive nature.....
Nina (Pope) and I are in the final (ish) furlong of the distribution of our film Bata-ville and are limping to the finish line with our graphic designer Re. An ex-student of Nina's, the working relationship - mainly via the enormous and fraught website - has deteriorated to a kind of mute tussle, something akin to the mock-fighting that Nina's two cats engage in whilst we're all round the meeting table at her studio. Like the last bout of any long session in the ring, each party wants out as quickly as possible but with themselves as the winner. The spoils include a DVD cover and film poster which noone has the objectivity or energy to really apply themselves to. We've done so many print design jobs at this low-level stage in the last throes of an epic project, and they rarely meet one's aspirations - but how to avoid this pattern eludes us. Answers on a postcard welcome.
Before Re even arrived we had 6 hours of high-level life coaching with our assistant Jane, a woman so awesome that the title doesn't fit. A day of her time spans business strategy, mailing list additions and washing up.
Today was spent outside the studio after yesterdays 13 hour day - Bata-ville was one of three arts and regeneration case studies in 'Tracing Change', a symposium at Tate Britain. It was a pretty small event with an invited audience made up of many artists we were familiar with, some stakeholders from local authorities and other interested arts-folk. Unusually for us, Nina and I managed not to take the podium, instead of relying on our EPK (Electronic Press Kit) for the film, featuring a shockingly badly filmed interview with us about the project which we played frm DVD to the audience. David Cross (of artists Cornford & Cross) chaired the day with the authority of a better-dressed Paxman - this man is the natural successor to the increasingly flabby Mat Collings, surely.
Anyway, the event included a roleplaying workshop where I played a commissioner, the enterprise was flawed by my detailed knowledge of the field from my own activities and my boyfriend's (director of Grizedale Arts). However, I enjoy any activity using post-it notes and felt tip pens and ended up the spokesperson of the group. That might have been because I was wearing the brightest clothing. Hierarchies work in mysterious ways.
Pleasant though it was, 10 - 4 is too short an event for both the theme under discussion and for the projects presented and as it ended a handful of really interesting comments hovered in the air only to dissipate on the way out. Over lunch I met an ex-student of mine from way back in my first year of teaching, at UCE - Gavin McWilliam, who had been one of those over-talented but delicate young men whose idealism is dented fundamentally by the introspection of art school and its often puerile debates. I both recognised him and recalled his name, testament to the fact he was one of my first students and formed part of a (I now see) unique cluster of idealistic and engaged students whose group tutorials never ended on time, so vigorous was the debate. At the time, I was too inexperienced to realise that every group tutorial since would seem comparitively like a Teenager's Bible Group . It was genuinely thrilling to hear that after some years in design he was finishing a landscape architecture course and sounded like he's really found his passion. It's rare to encounter students so long after your interaction with them and even rarer to be able to remember anything about why you ever cared about them - so this was a much-needed antidote to the woes of my current academic role wrestling bureaucracy.
Before the train I met an old friend and ex-boyfriend who I have kept up with, perhaps because in the years following our break-up we attended an (accidentally) cathartic fencing class together every Thursday night. His wife is expecting their first child and - something of a comedian - David has been disrupting the antenatal group's 'breakaway' workshops. When asked to complete the sentance, 'The pain of childbirth is....", he added - to very little acclaim amongst the mothers to be - "a feminist lie?".
Sunday, May 15, 2005
Friday, April 01, 2005
It's lambing season here too
Yesterday was mostly spent at the Koiwai Farm near here in Iwate - a kind of real farm meets tourist attraction that appears to successfully balance production of dairy products (though est. 1891, these stil have a kind of cachet here in japan - e.g people give butter as a special gift) with a very popular visitor attraction complete with the hand-rearing of lambs. All the livestock we saw were experiencing a kind of 5 star accommodation that would have their UK counterparts voluntarily making their way to the slaughterhouse - fresh sweetsmelling hay, futuristic polytunnels (v popular here due to typhoons etc) and adoring Japanese schoolchildren. Though the whole enterprise had a whiff of the old Grizedale Centre about it, it was a fair number of notches up in quality - from the gift shops to the food options - the latter being a kind of indoor barbecue where you cook your own food on a brazier. Very funky was a series of snow 'igloos' they use all winter for families to have barbecues in the grounds - a massive success that I can imagine we could import but using leaves and branches instead of snow. The snow rests on a metal support that is removed for summer - it's a great example of the Japanese love for a kind of expedient and easily consumed 'natural' experience.
The night before Adam and I delivered our talk at the Iwate Museum of Art, very well-recieved despite the challenges of translation. If in doubt say 'peter rabbit' and all the japanese laugh and nod.
At Kata and Kate's where we're staying, their daughter Emily (see below) demonstrated her Kendo to us and I compared the abject polyester European fencing kit I have, to this majestic get-up.
The night before Adam and I delivered our talk at the Iwate Museum of Art, very well-recieved despite the challenges of translation. If in doubt say 'peter rabbit' and all the japanese laugh and nod.
At Kata and Kate's where we're staying, their daughter Emily (see below) demonstrated her Kendo to us and I compared the abject polyester European fencing kit I have, to this majestic get-up.
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
Glamour & snow
The opening of 2 big shows at the Mori Art Museum in Tokyo showed us that some things are the same wherever in the world you are! Except the previews ended with the serving of Japanese whiskey (darker and sweeter than Scotch) and started with lengthy translated speeches of thanks. It was nice to meet the incredible array of expats at the preview - from collagen-enhanced Italian publishers, to an Aussie art journalist who told me that Tapies was a ' really interesting young spanish artist'.
As at home a large unruly crowd of us made our way to an Indian restaurant having drunk to much, and I sat next to a curator called Ong Keng Sen who was fresh from a project at the ICA in London. The naan was good but the rice - being traditional Japanese - was slightly odd.
http://www.mori.art.museum/html/eng/index.html
Yesterday was spent travelling to Sendai with our hosts Kate and Kata - including more delicious sushi and a visit to an inspiring futuristic 'mediatheque' incl. library and gallery - and then to iwate where they live. Driving snow greeted us!
As at home a large unruly crowd of us made our way to an Indian restaurant having drunk to much, and I sat next to a curator called Ong Keng Sen who was fresh from a project at the ICA in London. The naan was good but the rice - being traditional Japanese - was slightly odd.
http://www.mori.art.museum/html/eng/index.html
Yesterday was spent travelling to Sendai with our hosts Kate and Kata - including more delicious sushi and a visit to an inspiring futuristic 'mediatheque' incl. library and gallery - and then to iwate where they live. Driving snow greeted us!
Saturday, March 26, 2005
International & intergalactic harmony
Since returning to Tokyo I have got rid of my jetlag and several hundred pounds – the latter in ‘Big Camera’, a massive strip-lit technology store that - despite its equally massive savings – came close to my idea of hell.
Yesterday was spent mainly at AIT (art initative tokyo) with a group of San Francisco CCA curatorial students who had been in the city a week with Kate Smith – a curator who used to work in the UK. They introduced a whole load of Californian artists and then the day broadened to include a very diverse group of ‘others’ and that included me. Each speaker had just 5 minutes – signalled by a crowing alarm clock – to present their work, so it was pretty dynamic! Of interest – in extreme brief - were:
ACC (Autonomous cultural centre) – Weimar / Germany
Peter Bellers – Uk artist based in Tokyo –& Command N project
Makimato Masato – Akhibara TV – use of all the front window TVs in stores in city’s electronics district
The Common Room, Indonesia
We also hooked up with expat Kate Fowler & her Japanese husband who will accompany us to Iwate for most of next week and are incredibly helpful networkers. Today too much time was spent at the Mori Centre (built by uncle of japanese uber artist Mariko Mori – not starving in a garret there then) where the big cahuna art centre is, director is from the UK – Peter Elliott. It appears to be within a Dubai-style shopping mall but the shops are dull and scattered throughout in a random way – the highlight was the garden where some fish that appear to be related to one that went into space (?!) on one of the shuttles – have been deposited into the pond as an act of intergalactic harmony (very important to the japanese).
The day ended at Haranjuku, which to align with Camden Market in London would be a little unfair but it is comparable in crowds and average age.
BUT instead of an overall goth-theme (though it appears) there’s a pink lolita theme and the streets include yet more megoliths of consumerism – our favourite (obviously) was called The Forest, where Adam happily had his photo taken with a glamourous transvestite.
Other highlights included:
The puppy shop – very sad very small dogs in striplit capsules – average price £600
A fancy dress shop for pets – in the window a bee costume for small dogs
Personal ashtrays which smokers use here - a kind of portable metal envelope for your ash
Some very lovely kimono wearers – I am a convert
Yesterday was spent mainly at AIT (art initative tokyo) with a group of San Francisco CCA curatorial students who had been in the city a week with Kate Smith – a curator who used to work in the UK. They introduced a whole load of Californian artists and then the day broadened to include a very diverse group of ‘others’ and that included me. Each speaker had just 5 minutes – signalled by a crowing alarm clock – to present their work, so it was pretty dynamic! Of interest – in extreme brief - were:
ACC (Autonomous cultural centre) – Weimar / Germany
Peter Bellers – Uk artist based in Tokyo –& Command N project
Makimato Masato – Akhibara TV – use of all the front window TVs in stores in city’s electronics district
The Common Room, Indonesia
We also hooked up with expat Kate Fowler & her Japanese husband who will accompany us to Iwate for most of next week and are incredibly helpful networkers. Today too much time was spent at the Mori Centre (built by uncle of japanese uber artist Mariko Mori – not starving in a garret there then) where the big cahuna art centre is, director is from the UK – Peter Elliott. It appears to be within a Dubai-style shopping mall but the shops are dull and scattered throughout in a random way – the highlight was the garden where some fish that appear to be related to one that went into space (?!) on one of the shuttles – have been deposited into the pond as an act of intergalactic harmony (very important to the japanese).
The day ended at Haranjuku, which to align with Camden Market in London would be a little unfair but it is comparable in crowds and average age.
BUT instead of an overall goth-theme (though it appears) there’s a pink lolita theme and the streets include yet more megoliths of consumerism – our favourite (obviously) was called The Forest, where Adam happily had his photo taken with a glamourous transvestite.
Other highlights included:
The puppy shop – very sad very small dogs in striplit capsules – average price £600
A fancy dress shop for pets – in the window a bee costume for small dogs
Personal ashtrays which smokers use here - a kind of portable metal envelope for your ash
Some very lovely kimono wearers – I am a convert
Thursday, March 24, 2005
Mountain air that smells of eggs
I have been unable to exceed five hours of nocturnal sleep since arriving in Japan but have high hopes for tonight based on my recent consumption of a washing up bowl of soporific ramen noodles.
But I did want to blog before bed-time as so much has happened. Adam and I are just back from Hakone, 90 minutes on the ‘romance train’ (a species of bullet train) from Tokyo. It’s a place billed as ‘no must sees’ in the guidebooks and therefore a must-see for Adam and I, jaded from our years if living in ‘the most beautiful part of England.tm’. Hakone is famed for its hot springs, which I’ll cover later, and appears to be a rather charming ‘something for everyone’ kind of tourist resort – we’re talking a Begonia Museum - clinging onto various mountainous precipices and even in mid-week March, popular. It’s the home of the Hakone Open Air Museum, an old skool sculpture park, whose former director Adam had charmed in the Grizedale drizzle a few years back. The old school tie network of international sculpture parks meant that Mr Matsimura and Mrs Noda – whose park is funded by the Fuji empire – were happy to return the favour many times over, and we spent today with them sampling the incredible density of amusements on offer - from eggs cooked in the sulphurous steam of the local volcano (eggy smell / ergo eat eggs – what’s that about?!) - to a clotted cream tea at the colonial Fuyima Hotel, a Shinto shrine plus – in the inclusive Japanese spirit - a Buddha carved into a rockface.
We were very generously accomodated in the Park’s own club, a rather classy late 60’s affair, very stylish despite the bizarre Japanese versions of mid-century European art. Vast windows looked out onto exquisite Hokusai-esque forests, and closer the the building were tiny courtyards of traditional Japanese plantings – including the seasonal cherry trees. I squeezed in 2 traditional Japanese baths – one reluctantly this morning at 5 due to jetlag – and one last night. In both I was alone, though they are usually communal experiences where you wash first and then join the deep, wood and stone bath for a very very hot soak. In Hakone these baths are heated naturally by the hot springs, and a water level window looks onto an exquisite private courtyard. It was sublime and I am now wondering if I could fit one in at home.
Perhaps the most exciting thing was the dining, which took place in an epic room with very groovy 60’s carpeting, James Bond-esque picture windows, and a soundtrack of late 50’s Western pop.
On arrival for dinner our places were already set with a seasonal array of incredible creations – probably 15 separate dishes – and this was only one half of what was to follow in a succession of pots, dishes and trays. The artfulness is almost impossible to describe and each flavour was distinct, some fragrant and moist, some austere. Our hosts seemed genuinely delighted at our enthusiasm for the food, more so at breakfast when we devoured a traditional Japanese breakfast of rice, pickles and fish to the strains of the Everley Brothers and polite smalltalk about driving in England (actually that’s a crap description as noone can ‘devour’ such delicate foo, at least not with my chopstick skills). After dinner we retired to chat in a traditional tatame room, which save for the passive smoking and my jetlag, was a very enjoyable chance to talk cats with our host (he had a persian that looked like Catherine Deneuve and we discussed how to prevent them from ruining the tatame) and witness the endearing giggliness and natural warmth of the Japanese.
The Museum itself is located against a breathtaking natural backdrop, but is dominated by vast works by generally obscure 20th century sculptors. I found myself more interested in the tree-training structures all over the garden. The collection is still growing under Fuji’s patronage but the impression is of a tourist experience rather than an art one. However, this isn’t to denigrate it, as it as fascinating to visit not only the park but the other cultural sights locally with Mr Matsimura and Mrs Yoda – and to witness an attitude to cultural consumption so different from our own – one perhaps of a kind of casualness – which at its worst, in the UK, we see as camera snapping hordes of Japanese tour groups – but in fact one can interpret as consumerism akin to any other practiced here.
But I did want to blog before bed-time as so much has happened. Adam and I are just back from Hakone, 90 minutes on the ‘romance train’ (a species of bullet train) from Tokyo. It’s a place billed as ‘no must sees’ in the guidebooks and therefore a must-see for Adam and I, jaded from our years if living in ‘the most beautiful part of England.tm’. Hakone is famed for its hot springs, which I’ll cover later, and appears to be a rather charming ‘something for everyone’ kind of tourist resort – we’re talking a Begonia Museum - clinging onto various mountainous precipices and even in mid-week March, popular. It’s the home of the Hakone Open Air Museum, an old skool sculpture park, whose former director Adam had charmed in the Grizedale drizzle a few years back. The old school tie network of international sculpture parks meant that Mr Matsimura and Mrs Noda – whose park is funded by the Fuji empire – were happy to return the favour many times over, and we spent today with them sampling the incredible density of amusements on offer - from eggs cooked in the sulphurous steam of the local volcano (eggy smell / ergo eat eggs – what’s that about?!) - to a clotted cream tea at the colonial Fuyima Hotel, a Shinto shrine plus – in the inclusive Japanese spirit - a Buddha carved into a rockface.
We were very generously accomodated in the Park’s own club, a rather classy late 60’s affair, very stylish despite the bizarre Japanese versions of mid-century European art. Vast windows looked out onto exquisite Hokusai-esque forests, and closer the the building were tiny courtyards of traditional Japanese plantings – including the seasonal cherry trees. I squeezed in 2 traditional Japanese baths – one reluctantly this morning at 5 due to jetlag – and one last night. In both I was alone, though they are usually communal experiences where you wash first and then join the deep, wood and stone bath for a very very hot soak. In Hakone these baths are heated naturally by the hot springs, and a water level window looks onto an exquisite private courtyard. It was sublime and I am now wondering if I could fit one in at home.
Perhaps the most exciting thing was the dining, which took place in an epic room with very groovy 60’s carpeting, James Bond-esque picture windows, and a soundtrack of late 50’s Western pop.
On arrival for dinner our places were already set with a seasonal array of incredible creations – probably 15 separate dishes – and this was only one half of what was to follow in a succession of pots, dishes and trays. The artfulness is almost impossible to describe and each flavour was distinct, some fragrant and moist, some austere. Our hosts seemed genuinely delighted at our enthusiasm for the food, more so at breakfast when we devoured a traditional Japanese breakfast of rice, pickles and fish to the strains of the Everley Brothers and polite smalltalk about driving in England (actually that’s a crap description as noone can ‘devour’ such delicate foo, at least not with my chopstick skills). After dinner we retired to chat in a traditional tatame room, which save for the passive smoking and my jetlag, was a very enjoyable chance to talk cats with our host (he had a persian that looked like Catherine Deneuve and we discussed how to prevent them from ruining the tatame) and witness the endearing giggliness and natural warmth of the Japanese.
The Museum itself is located against a breathtaking natural backdrop, but is dominated by vast works by generally obscure 20th century sculptors. I found myself more interested in the tree-training structures all over the garden. The collection is still growing under Fuji’s patronage but the impression is of a tourist experience rather than an art one. However, this isn’t to denigrate it, as it as fascinating to visit not only the park but the other cultural sights locally with Mr Matsimura and Mrs Yoda – and to witness an attitude to cultural consumption so different from our own – one perhaps of a kind of casualness – which at its worst, in the UK, we see as camera snapping hordes of Japanese tour groups – but in fact one can interpret as consumerism akin to any other practiced here.
Friday, March 18, 2005
Well, it's a start
Let's start a great British blog with a weather report:
Though visability from my mountain-top home has been zero for the last 4 days, I managed to spot the first daffodil in bloom this year in my garden - as I reversed out of my drive at typical break neck speed to start the first leg of my journey to Japan via St Martin's in Lancaster where I teach.
Here at college things are busy - I'm remembering why I don't generally do holidays. It's so much easier just to keep working than to explain to students over and over that no, they can't expect feedback on their dissertation draft 27 whilst you are on the shinkansen to Kyoto next week - 'Please see Oxford English Dictionary' for definition of 'holiday'.
On the plus side, I have set up some good meetings to drive forward lots of iniatives at the start of next term - Kate Brundrett, the coordinator or the Cumbria Artist's Network - is coming to talk about the Fred arts festival in October this year - and if / how we can get our spanking new gallery here on campus involved. Also keeping up with the 'Business and Community Enterprise Unit' here, which seems to be one of the few areas of College with funding which just might be useful in getting a gallery programme of the ground. Also have secured two young artists - Jonathan Griffin and Oliver Lamb - to come to talk to and (I hope) inspire our 3rd yr art students about life after art school. So few of the art students here have any aspirations to make a career out of what they're studying, it's tragic. Both Jonathan and Oliver are still making work despite being in unsteady economic circumstances - so I am hoping that they will be both realistic and motivational.
Jez (the other half of the embryonic -i.e still recruiting - BA New Media Arts programme here (see www.ucsm.ac.uk/cme/) and I are supposed to be generating stage 2 of the afore-mentioned website over the next month, but we keep getting swamped by more urgent-feeling stuff - ergo I feel very chuffed with getting this blog going - a small step in the right direction....
Though visability from my mountain-top home has been zero for the last 4 days, I managed to spot the first daffodil in bloom this year in my garden - as I reversed out of my drive at typical break neck speed to start the first leg of my journey to Japan via St Martin's in Lancaster where I teach.
Here at college things are busy - I'm remembering why I don't generally do holidays. It's so much easier just to keep working than to explain to students over and over that no, they can't expect feedback on their dissertation draft 27 whilst you are on the shinkansen to Kyoto next week - 'Please see Oxford English Dictionary' for definition of 'holiday'.
On the plus side, I have set up some good meetings to drive forward lots of iniatives at the start of next term - Kate Brundrett, the coordinator or the Cumbria Artist's Network - is coming to talk about the Fred arts festival in October this year - and if / how we can get our spanking new gallery here on campus involved. Also keeping up with the 'Business and Community Enterprise Unit' here, which seems to be one of the few areas of College with funding which just might be useful in getting a gallery programme of the ground. Also have secured two young artists - Jonathan Griffin and Oliver Lamb - to come to talk to and (I hope) inspire our 3rd yr art students about life after art school. So few of the art students here have any aspirations to make a career out of what they're studying, it's tragic. Both Jonathan and Oliver are still making work despite being in unsteady economic circumstances - so I am hoping that they will be both realistic and motivational.
Jez (the other half of the embryonic -i.e still recruiting - BA New Media Arts programme here (see www.ucsm.ac.uk/cme/) and I are supposed to be generating stage 2 of the afore-mentioned website over the next month, but we keep getting swamped by more urgent-feeling stuff - ergo I feel very chuffed with getting this blog going - a small step in the right direction....
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