Journal

X hib ishun (trumpet blowing)

A couple of weeks back I was invited to put some work in an exhibition called Cluster near Regent’s Street in central London, so I put this in. Seemed rude not to.…

It was a three storey gallery of new talents, some old talent, and some dead talent, like Jean-Michel Basquiat.

I missed my own private view because a good friend was playing a gig and I wanted to go and support him, but I am reliably informed that it was attended by Saatchi’s crew, Street Logo author Tristan Manco, art philanthropist Mark Cass, Anthony Gormley’s photographer niece, critics from the Times, Observer, Independent, and some other people with legs and arms and everything.

I’m not entirely sure what that means, but I reckon at least one of them looked at my Holga print and thought it was a 2 minute PhotoChop job. Ha

Anish Kapoor

A couple of weeks ago I dropped into the Anish Kapoor exhibition at the Royal Academy in London, the massive shiny collections of balls in the courtyard convinced me to cough up the slightly over priced entrance fee.…

That second one was taken by my other half and if you look close enough you can see her taking it and me taking the same shot with my Holga, which no one will see for a few more months. The infinite reflections of the spheres on each other was quite fine, bringing the clouds down to where you could touch them and making everything seem considerably more complex than it was. Like James Joyce.

It wasn’t the best exhibition of his I’ve seen to be honest, and I’ve no reason to not be honest. But it’s saving grace was this hug block of red wax which almost imperceptibly slid th

Seizure

If you ever find yourself south of the river, and wander east from Elephant and Castle tube station, through some suitably bleak housing estates, you will stumble across a derelict and boarded up 1960s housing block.…

You will probably check you know where your wallet is.

If you head into flat 151, you will be greeted with a pitch black but clearly dilapidated interior of what was once someone’s sweet home. It’s dark, filthy and quite depressing.

But if you clamber through a hole they’ve smashed in the wall to the flat next door you’ll find yourself in a copper sulphate crystal palace.

You will probably check to see if you brought a camera.


^That’s a light bulb, or was, or something.

Robert Hiorns sealed off the interior of one of these flats, made it watertight and filled it with 75,

You Never Forget Your First Art Teacher

Went to see Beardyman last night on the Complete and Udder Shambles Tour, inside a giant purple cow.
In was possibly the highlight of the summer, if you don’t know Beardyman and have any interest in beatboxing at all, then, well, you should be ashamed of yourself.


Here he is doing his Kitchen Diaries skit, remember kids, it’s all with his mouth.

[Video]

I also bumped into my first art teacher, no idea how I recognised her. She was 65, I hadn’t seen her since I was 10. I can remember her teaching me how to draw two point perspective when I was about 7. Excellent lady. Her daughter was playing sax and flute in the show.

Bye.

Grafitti

This is technically vandalism I suppose, but I reckon the RB sticker is a damn site more attractive than all the daft comments and ramblings that various Beatles fans and assorted tourists have plastered all over the previously delightful Abbey Road Studio gateway.

Love a bit of Wendsledale

If you can get yourself near the Science Museum in London, and have any interest whatsoever in animation, I’d recommend their new Wallace and Gromit’s Cracking Ideas exhibition, although I think it’s probably designed for children.

I was just keen to see the set pieces and original models. Most of them from the last film as a considerable proportion of the sets were destroyed in a fire in Bristol. The only newsworthy event from there that hasn’t had Banksy’s name attached to it. At least since Massive Attack.







They let you sod about with some green plasticine too, so I made quite a rubbish Gromit.

Enjoy your weekend.

0.25mm

Nat wrote this post about pinhole cameras yesterday. And it got me all agitated. It’s one of those things that, along with ‘washing’, has been on my list of things to do for years, and I’ve just never got around to it.

So last night, when the plates had been cleared and four empty wine bottles put carefully in the recycling bin, instead of talking to my missus, I sat down and made one.

Nat, my missus said thanks, sincerely. Slightly too sincerely.

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I can’t show you the pictures yet because I have only just made it, but that doesn’t really matter because they’ll be totally crap. I can’t wait.

Foamboard, Batteries and LEDs

After seeing the community post on light painting yesterday, I thought I’d throw up some of the work I have been doing with LEDs.

It’s actually for a stop motion film idea I have, except it’s going to take until 2046 to complete, I expect, so to feel like something is being achieved I have made some colourful wavy stills to please the occipital.

I recommend this as a way to pass dark winter evenings.










Highlights of 2009. Hang on...

…but it’s only March? Yes I know, but it’s been a cracking year already. And as you’re aware, I’m a pretty positive chap, so I thought I’d concentrate on the good times and make sure I wasn’t taking anything for granted.…

The first highlight was only 1 second into this year, impressive start you’ll agree. A friend of mine who happens to work in The Adelphi, blagged us up to the roof garden where the BBC were filming the fireworks. So I thought I’d do some filming of my own:

[Video]

Really the best NYE view I’ve ever had.

The second highlight is a two parter, firstly, I made it to back to Melbourne to see the St Kilda Solar System. After three years of council red tape, it was quite gutting to have missed the launch, so it was good to finally see it. And secondly I only recently discovered

For Danny's sake...

… I decided to throw a bunch of these up in a journal entry rather than in my portfolio, it’s only about 40, from a collection of 300, but I can’t be bothered with all this scanning.

I do have a handful that I like very much, which I’ll slowly post this week.

Happy Sunday.


brighton pier, (old burnt pier visible in the water like a birdcage)


i live here


victorian gasometers outside st pancras, oldest ever i think, they’re listed and currently being moved. shame.


atomium brussels


fire escape outside san fran redbubble offices


polish petrol station, got yelled at for this one


view from the entrance tower over auschwitz


best street in the world for record buying


more auschwitz

Winning Socks

I have winning socks, I also have managed to get about half of my film developed, the rest will hopefully follow this week, otherwise it’s too late because I will be back in the too-expensive-to-get-anything-developed world of London.

I probably won’t scan any of it for ages. So here’s a big picture of everything just because I am quite excited. To interest those that care and to scare ‘Danny The Great Photographer’s Nemesis’ into avoiding his activity monitor for a while.

They vaguely record slightly blurry moments in Norway, Germany, Ireland, Egypt, England, Jordan, Australia, Hong Kong, Poland, America, Holland and Belgium.

Antithesis

So while the Princess of the Southern Seas basks in a plus 40 heatwave and struggles with fires and blackouts, this end of the planet has the opposite problem.…

While the UK often gets decent snowfall, London rarely does, and it doesn’t hang around long when it comes, in fact I don’t think we’ve had this much snow since William the Conqueror came over and made us all French. (This may not be ‘fact’)

The buses are not running, the trains are not running, most of the tube outside the centre isn’t running, Heathrow is half closed, Gatwick and Stansted are totally closed, the motorways are a mess and reasonably dangerous. We can’t handle anything in this country.

But I can report good consistent stick factor so the snowballing and sledding are both working fine. And Regent’s Park looked alrigh

Paulo

Back at the beginning of January I had to hitch a ride to Italy for a friend’s wedding, they’re Australians as it happens, so Tuscany was not an obvious choice, especially as I was only one of three non-Australians in a party of 30. Still, fine by me.…

It was in San Quirico, between the wine regions of Montepulciano and Montelcino. Driving there from Pisa airport was amusing, asides from smacking my hand into the door every time I intended on changing gear, I was contending with crazy Italians doing triple the speed limit, in Alfa Romeos, at night. But arriving at the 15 bedroom, 17th Century villa made it entirely worth the danger.



I could talk about how the weather was impossibly and unexpectedly good for the first week of January, or the huge rooms, fireplaces, cavernous wine cellar an

Back And To The Left, Back And To The Left, Back and............

Because no one assisted me in this plight, my backlog of undeveloped film has built to such epic proportions I have been forced to dine on them.

Look at all the medium format goodness I could be boring you with.

Please note totally brilliant JFK plate, from which I eat all my favourite meals. It was a gift from a legend.

I accept all major credit cards, a few minor ones and Green Shield stamps.

Dead Relatives and New Resolutions

So Christmas is a time for families, but my family are all in need of decades of therapy before we can sit amicably in a room and play charades, so instead I got in a car and drove six hours north to the Yorkshire moors where it was about zero degrees, and had a go at digging up my Great Great Grandfather, Henry, who was born around 1810.…

I won’t bore you with the story, but I found him under a foot of mud in the cemetery of a bleak Methodist Chapel near Hebden Bridge, a beautiful spot only a few miles south of Haworth where Emily and Charlotte Bronte lived and wrote. He occupied the same vault as his son Barrett who died in 1856 at the age of 19.

Today the countryside is festooned with derelict mills and, a sadness hangs in the air of this once great industrial area, a feeling greatly st

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