The view from here

The weather is getting progressively colder and so I have decided to retire my beautiful green suede gloves they look like two rather bruised and battered frogs. I may not have found a pair of red shoes yet, but instead these beautiful gloves stepped up to take the red baton and run.

Last year wandering round some random Berlin department store I happened across a whole wall of the most beautiful leather gloves. Normally I would not have been that interested In England I have never been able to fit inside ladies gloves and so I always end up with a pair of knitted ones stretched beyond their endurance. Even my green ones were ill fitting but were as near as I would get to a pair that I could squeeze on. I refuse to wear men's gloves which only enhance the gorillas paw effect, I have a hand span of 8 and 1/2 inches. My fingers are really long making most gloves very uncomfortable. On a whim I went into T.K.Maxx and they had a wonderful selection of gloves from? you guessed it Germany. I did not avail myself in Berlin last year, because despite the beauty of fit and suppleness of leather they were £70! so I reluctantly did not indulge, because as you know I do a have an irritating propensity to loose things. Now these beautiful red gloves are all mine.

And what of this years travel fest I hear you say, well I do have one niggle with this blog and that is I sometimes feel it is just one long bragathon, but hey if the cap fits....

This years itinerary is as follows;

• Eurostar to Brussels, 2 nights
• Train to Cologne, 2 nights
• Train to Berlin, 4 nights
• Flight to Istanbul, 4 nights

I must admit I am getting quite excited now, especially when Emin had the foresight to book us in to see the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra on Christmas Day.

Istanbul will definitely fullfill a dream wish, and after Emin stumbled over last years stinging criticism that I found him unadventurous it is the one place where we will be staying in a boutique hotel rather than the usual Marriott, Hilton & Raddisson Hotels, not that I am complaining, I am one very lucky girl.

We did struggle this year to come up with an itinerary I wanted to go to Norway by train but in the end as Emin has project managed it, this was a pretty good compromise. Plus we will be able to go apartment hunting in Potsdam. Yes Despite the big problems with the Euro and the recession Emin has decided to buy an apartment in Potsdam.

I will of course take thousands of photos not least from this amazing hotel and send you a postcard.

Michael Porter

Michael Porter at Purdy Hicks, I love the textured, abstract nature of these photographs. It is a small world because tomorrow an exhibition of Helsinki photography opens at Purdy Hicks, so as I tick one box another appears...

Beautiful Finnish photography

MARKO VUOKOLA

Of the series, Vuokola writes: 'The Seventh Wave consists of pairs of images with precisely the same cropping and angle of view...Two seconds or six hours can pass between the moments of taking the pictures. In some of the pairs, the difference can be seen easily, while in others it is less obvious. Even the blink of an eye is time enough for many atoms to revolve, grasshoppers to leap and glimmers of light to change places.' (Artist statement, 2007)

NANNA HÄNNINEN

Of her series The New Landscapes, Hänninen states: 'The urban landscapes are basically drawings of my body movements that can be seen on photographic material as rhythmical light lines where subject and the scenery melt into a single image. Pictorial motifs divide into different surfaces -- the abstract and the actual. The human presence (breathing, heartbeat, laughter, talking, and walking during the exposure time) merge into the medium of photography, resulting in a process akin to painting. The subject is still strongly presented, whereas the object -- the scenery -- is estranged and thus becomes easier to deal with -- even safer than the actual place.' (Artist statement, 2007)

ILKKA HALSO

'My project Museum of Nature,' Halso says, 'is based on a pessimistic vision of what is happening on earth. I am looking into the future and I am not very happy about it. I am considering these pictures more as visual pamphlets than aesthetical images.' (Artist statement, 2004) Combining analogue and digital processes, Halso painstakingly constructs powerful fictional tableaux that question the state of our relationship with nature.

All of these works are for sale this week at Christies. I have not seen any of this work before, but it seems that Finnish photography is thriving, as the ethereal beauty of these images testifies.

The view from here

Sarah Moon at The Michael Hoppen Gallery was fantastic, this one was my favourite, which at a cool 12 grand was a little out of my price range.

Wonderful stripes in a gallery window on Dover Street.

Bill Woodrow on at The Waddington Gallery, I really like his very quirky esoteric sculpture. He has been painting on very large maps which remind me a lot of the work of Tom Phillips

A beautiful new shoe shop called Lodger making highly delectable shoes.

I am always amazed at how buildings can be gutted and rebuilt, this one is on the corner of Bond Street.

Diesel always has very innovative windows I am a huge fan of lettraset, I have hoarded a stockpile over the years, I love the interplay here between image and text.

Fenwicks had their Christmas window up already, I would love one of these for Christmas, would that I celebrated it

Moi, still loving my red bag, which conspired with my skirt to humiliate me every 5 minutes by riding up the side of my leg exposing my modesty to all who cared to look. This was kindly pointed out to me by a passing builder, oh Joy.

I did make it to Paul Smith, a small sparse collection of photos by Norman Parkinson, but the water lily one was worth the journey alone.

Then late in the afternoon, more out of curiosity than design, I went to H&M. The much hyped collaboration was more Rei Kawakubo than H&M. Very good quality fabrics beautifully cut. Sadly they were designed for someone shorter and younger than me, I tried on the trench coat which was gorgeous but the belt even on the size bigger was under my arm pit. I the nearly bought the spotty cardie but her clothes have a tendency to wear you, rather than the other way round, so reluctantly I walked away with nothing. I considered this a triumph of dignity over desire, a lesson I should have learnt when I was sixteen. If I was 10 years younger and 4 inches shorter I would have bought a lot. There was plenty left to go round even late afternoon so H&M have learnt a lesson on quantity.

And so I have achieved little in the way of picture filing this week. The lack of Emin also means that I have had no exercise, as no one can control the Leyla-monster I have had to stay in . He returns today and I feel not a little sad that my quiet routine and peaceful life will once again degenerate into pointless squabbling and bickering.

One ray of sunshine this last week has been the BBC production of Little Dorrit, one of the few Dickens storiesI have not read. The adaptation has been just fantastic, we are 6 episodes in and already tears have been shed. If I ever had to write a thesis on an author I would choose Dickens, I love his stories, I know little about him as a person but I have often thought he must have had very positive relationships with women, as he writes the female characters so well, and gives them so much personal strength. I just wish it was on every night.

Have a wonderful weekend, think of me back in the gym....

Norman Parkinson

My favourite too, I love the colours.

– and says he doesn’t have a favourite because it changes according to how he feels (though he admits to loving the shot of the model in the lily pond).

Sublime images by Norman Parkinson

If all goes according to plan I may see these after work. They are currently on show at Paul Smith. He says...

Yet while embracing digital technology himself, Smith can’t help feeling that there was a romanticism to film that has been lost. “It was about confidence and knowing your job properly, whereas now, frankly, you can go straight to a computer screen – click-click – there’s the image and you can check the lighting and everything. Parkinson just took two rolls of 35mm and crossed his fingers.” more from the Times article here

I feel the same. There is just so much more depth of colour when you see prints taken on film. Sadly the immediacy of digital is just so addictive.

Humanoid

Humanoid

On Saturday as we were walking to the gallery in Dulwich, we walked past a lovely clothes shop called Question Air
It is one of those shops where you want to buy everything. I particularly loved this range of clothes perfect for the very chilly November winds that have hit town this week.

Every picture tells a story

This is a photo, of a B&W photo of a painting of my Great Grandfather.

It was painted whilst he was serving in the Home Guard during the second world war. After he died my Gran remembered that he had his portrait painted by an artist, doing a series on men serving in the home guard, you can just see his uniform in the background. This was a long time before the Internet and so she spent many years writing letters, doggedly trying to trace the painting. It took many many letters and many more years until finally she found it. It was stored in the vaults of a museum in Manchester. The museum kindly got it out for her, it is quite a large painting approx 3ft x 4ft. My uncle, a photographer took a photograph of the painting and I received a B&W copy. I have grown to love the painting in B&W, it always comes as a bit of a shock to see the colour version.

My Great Grandfather died when I was about 12, I did not go to his funeral as I was the designated babysitter for all my cousins. My memories of him are very sparse, he spent a lot of time living at my Grans house, of his 3 children I think he preferred it there the most. He did not change much from the painting, a trim wiry man of few words. When we came to go home though, we would be summonsed to say goodbye, plant a brief kiss on his dry very prickly cheek and he would give me a sixpence.

That my Great Grandfather was alive at all, is it seems to me a miracle. He fought in the battle for the Somme and came home, my Gran was born soon after. My mother tells me that he never ever spoke about the war, would not, could not. All that she remembers is very very occasionally he would lapse into crude humour. Such repressed memories must have made for a very hard life.

Today Kitty is helping to organise a party to celebrate Armistice Day at a local community center, she and a small group of other students have spent the last 5 Thursdays working with and talking with the old people about what life was like during the war and helping to plan a celebratory party, she has loved it. She has even bought a black and red outfit to wear. I am so pleased that she is helping to preserve the memory's of others so we can never forget.