Lucian Freud

I don't often jump on the 'look who's died' band wagon, but I do feel this time I must say something, despite his age, (and I would feel very pleased to have lived to that age) it was still quite a shock when his death was announced. I was impressed by the coverage on the news, of course money talks and this man really could make some serious cash. And yet you never once felt that that was what it was about. Unlike so many mercenary morons that masquerade under the passport occupation 'artist' he really was the real deal. If completely honest I rate Howard Hodgkin slightly higher up the food chain, simply because he paints with his heart. That said you cannot really come close to understanding Freud's genius for paint until you try painting a portrait for yourself.
My favourite story is the one about when he got into a fight and was so enamoured by the black eye he received he hurried home to paint it! If pushed I would favour his rarer views from a window to his flesh. Love them though I do I feel the emotion crept in to the viewpoints, an emotion that was somewhat lacking in his nudes. Whatever I think is irrelevant, he was a genius with paint and I am pretty sure he died happy, something I will emulate I'm sure.

image from here


Coincidentally, despite it being the 'summer' holidays I felt the distinctive whiff of autumn yesterday closely followed by melancholia.

Sometimes I just don't deserve it.

So the weekend is long gone, but the sting in the tail remains.

Friday I sat on my own like a little Billy No Mates at this bloody school BBQ whilst the rest of the parents cosied up and drank copious amounts of beer and wine. Over the tannoy the kids sang along to a myriad of karaoke tunes and that alone my little bloguettes was enough to send a sane man back to the asylum, as it was I laughed, there is something incredibly funny about small children singing out of key.
I survived, although I was frozen by the end of the evening as Leyla insisted i 'dress up'

Saturday my sister dragged me around some more houses, this time it was more fruitful and she has had an offer accepted, which is only the start of stress city, but hopefully her house hunting days are over.

I stupidly said Leyla could join me at the theatre that night since I had stupidly bought two tickets for A Woman Killed With Kindness, the clue as to it's main premise is of course in the title, but what I had not banked on was the lack of interval. Fidget does not come close to describing the tortuous writhing sack of snakes she became once she decided the play was boring. So basically after 5 minutes. Never again and really can you blame her? It has since garnered mixed reviews, although not an especially uplifting play I quite enjoyed it, the set was just awesome very, very beautiful based on a Hammershoi painting, it was sumptuous. I had plied her with a burger from Les Deux Salons too, just how ungrateful was that.

On a more upbeat note I have twice gone into COS and left empty handed, the cut and colour of much they are selling is not really very flattering on me, so maybe their day has come... well for now.

Sunday it was a promised visit to Harry Potter, before which I managed to finally get to the gym to keep at bay the expanding girth, this is really a bit of a King Canute thing because I am losing this battle daily.

Still, I do my bit and hope, so off we went and the sting in the tail was I dropped my iPhone and no the cleaner did not hand it back despite me begging he resolutely refused to even pretend to cooperate, even the manager just shrugged, I really wished it had a self destruct button the pain of knowing he would smugly be using it it the minute he left the building was unbearable, I had only left the cinema for 15min's before I realised. so of course I lost my temper and then cried like a baby. Emin took it surprisingly well and no more can I criticise Leyla since I am as bad as she at looking after anything. I should have known the writing was on the wall as on Saturday having bought Leyla a travel card I lost it before we even got on the train, part of the problem stems around the fact my stupid bag is full of the paraphernalia needed to cope with driving rain followed by searing heat. Hence it is full of an umbrella plus raincoats plus water and all the other detritus that follows me around. My second big mistake was to keep the phone in a pouch which protected it from a fall but meant I did not hear it fall out of the bag. So I think it safe to say that was one shit weekend.

No more nice Polaroids No more listening to Desert Island Disc podcast's ....

Oh yes Harry Potter is quite good.

Marzee Necklace Beauty

The more I shop for clothes the less I see, and the more drawn I am to adding a necklace to something from my wadrobe instead. All of these are just divine and I am glad I do not live near the shop somewhere in the Netherlands as I would be bankrupt!

Philip Sajet

Willemijn de Greef

Chequita Nahar

all from here

Playing hookey

One of the few perks of teaching is that once all the exam classes are over a few gaps appear on my timetable that allow the odd jaunt up town. I would really like to prepare classes for next year but we are still without any timetable so with the RA showing a brilliant photography exhibition called Eyewitness and the Serpentine opening a new pavilion I decided to escape after break.
My sartorial reflexes were far too slow though and despite seeing some loveliness I only just managed to catch this one. All over London woman are wafting around in wonderful creamy chiffon blouses. Not compatible with my lifestyle at all but lovely to look at. What I liked about this photograph was finally a red pair of jeans that did not scream RED, they were a much subtler washed out colour red, cut to my favourite length. I am very unsure as to whether Julian Opie is not tainted by the brush of 'emperors new clothes' but I did like the way the image on the door played with the paintings in the gallery.

Finally a couple of sneaky shots of Matthew Day Jackson at Hauser & Wirth

he has, apart from some really interesting sculptures, created a living room which I would love to live in myself, replete with wonderful sisal carpet and sixties furniture.

The photography exhibition was excellent, Andre Kertesz in particular was brilliant. Serpentine was less impressive but I have not sorted the images out for that so will discuss next week.

Mother is getting old

No, really it was her birthday yesterday, I'm not being cruel just stating a fact.

As usual it crept up on me, I did not remember until Saturday and as my art work was at school I decided to wait and risk sending something Monday. I had earmarked a small oil painting after she had looked at one at the Summer exhibition for her kitchen before blowing her budget on a Joe Tilson print, but when the time came to choose I found I was ridiculously attached to them. Luckily I had done some less layered ones recently, trying out a new way of working and as they had taken very little time to complete I was able to let one of them go. The idea was to send it as a card as it was size A6 and tell her to bring it to St Ives where I know of a brilliant framing shop. Oil paintings need a lot of TLC when being framed, glass kills them and so rather than let her shove it in a cheap frame from the pound shop I though this time I would do it Justice.

Feeling guilty at this cheapskate option I then sent some flowers via M&S from the girls.
The following day it quickly transpired that despite not posting the painting until after 4pm it had arrived first thing that morning. Am I the only one in this country who is still amazed that the post office can do that?
I am thanked for the card and I am assured that I do not need to frame it as she has an old photograph frame knocking around somewhere.
A small piece of me dies.

Whilst I had an email to thank me for the card there no mention of the flowers. My sister of course had sent her an effing designer t-shirt , scoring maximum points for size and colour choice..Bitch.

I don't say anything about the flowers I want them to be a surprise, I get Kitty to phone in the afternoon and still no mention. In the end I phone and ask. No, they had not arrived. I then, whilst talking to her on the phone attempt to log on with my left hand onto my hotmail account, which is not easy because a) I have upper and lowercase letter in my password and b) effing BT hijacks our wireless signal so you have to click a raft off buttons to circumnavigate it.
That done I finally track the order, they were delivered a 1pm, no one was in so they left them In a 'secure place'... Yeah right, we all know they were thrown onto the doorstep.

Me " Did you get any flowers today?"
Mother " No, why would you send flowers, your sister sent some last time and they were half dead, what on earth is the point of sending flowers, why waste your money like that?"
Me "It's your birthday"
Mother " Well I've been in all day, I have not heard anyone ring the bell apart from the roofer, there is no way they rang the bell"
Me "can you check to see if they are there?"

I hear her walk to the door. Yes, they are there.

Mother "I've been in all day there is no way anyone rang that bell or even knocked"

I hear her opening the box.

Mother " OK, sunflowers and agapanthus?"
Me "yes, since you're blind* I thought I would get you something bright enough to see"
Mother " well they are fully open so that means they will only last a couple of days.."
Me " Since when did anyone send sunflowers in bud?"
Mother "I suppose so......(suddenly startled) OH GOOD GRIEF YOU MADE ME JUMP"

I hear my sisters deep Yorkshire voice in the background, she has come to take Mother out for dinner.

Mother " Why didn't you ring the bell?"
Sister "I did and knocked but you didn't answer so I let myself in"
Mother "I didn't hear you"
Sister " Yes, deaf as well as blind!"

I wish my mother a pleasant meal, god help my sister navigating her way through that menu, a Chinese with no onion or garlic!! No chance.

I have just received a more upbeat email praising the said near dead flowers as looking wonderful!

* I am not being mean she has lost much of the sight in the central part of her vision so sees mostly fuzzy shapes.

Sandra Kantanen

If I am ever near the Tate Modern then I always pay the Purdy Hicks Gallery a visit, this time there was a brilliant mixed exhibition which featured the Helsinki School of photography Sandra Kantanen's work was head and shoulders above the rest, they are really beautiful.

images from here

The view from here

Boris Mikhailov

I should really call this post emptying the in box of flotsam and jetsam, these images have languished for sometime waiting for me to weaver a blog post around them. Sadly I never have so I will clump them together. First up the Tate Modern seems to finally be taking photography seriously, it has appointed a curator and some of the new wing is being devoted to exhibition, and even now there are many more rooms than before devoted to some amazing photography. Above are just a few from a series by Boris Mikhailov beautifully muted shots that I thought were cyanotypes with that dreamy pinhole look about them. The printing technique belies a content that focuses on the sadder side of life in Russia today. Mikhailov is brilliant at doing this and in a way the subtlety of the images draws you in before you realise the subject is just so depressing. It is this kind of image beauty from the beast that I will study for my MA.

Shikanosuko Yagaki

A discovery for me was the work of Shikanosuko Yagaki, I love Japanese photography, it has a wonderful abstract feel to it unlike Mikhailov, I like the distance the lens has from the subject and the lack of engagement.

images from here

The next slice of loveliness has no name, I lost it but I think it must be from style.com, it is everything I want to be but can't, trust me it would take one door handle for me to hang myself and lose all sense of dignity.

This image is stolen from here

Leyla and I saw this art instillation in Berlin, YEAH, they looked amazing, what a genius idea. they had a different outfit on to this photograph but were mesmerising nevertheless. We also saw two girls wearing one dress, one walking forwards one backwards even down some stairs! Berlin is obviously very much a city of art.

Sohei Nishino

I saw these ages ago at the Michael Hoppen gallery, my favourite photography gallery in London, which is sadly off the beaten track. They do loose a lot in translation they are huge collages made up of tiny photographs like a great big patchwork quilt.

I would love to have bought Emin the one of Istanbul.

Now for something more quirky

Dalton Ghetti

from here

Andy Moore

from here

I am a sucker for all things Alfred Wallis and I love this collage mixed with text

You might be visually exhausted but my in tray is lighter, which is just as well as there is more to come!!