December 2nd - January 18th

Heeeeeeey! Bit of a slow start here, but I think I’ve finally broken through the ice of laziness. Thought I’d post some pics from the past six weeks, a summary of sorts, before diving in deeper and going back to the eternal jumping back and forth in time that I do here on the blog. On a sunny day, at the beginning of December, I spent an afternoon in Spitalfields seeing a tiny exhibition, and looking at the beautiful Georgian houses on Fournier Street (which I never get tired of). However, this new build caught my eye as I was walking down the stairs into Old Street tube station (before Omicron scared me off public transport again) - already perfectly framed.

Said hello one day to Buddy who was hanging out in the sun, but he just yawned me in the face.

One Friday me and D squeezed six exhibitions in one day (must be a record), with enough time to look at Cleopatra’s Needle on the Embankment, and get closer to the faux-Egyptian sphinxes at the foot of it. The lack of tourists means that we can be tourists at home, without the crowds. Must make the most of it before they reappear. Although I don’t think ol’ Patra’s Needle is ever that busy.

Later that day we came across this little lady, having some time out in Soho. Her mum spotted me taking her picture and said “See, people are even taking pictures of you right now!”. I wonder what it was she didn't want to do.

The Christmas lights on Regent Street. Apparently some people have been moaning about the fact that they’ve been reusing the same ones for the past few years. I think it’s good that they are, in this day and age, and besides, they’re so pretty.

But Mother Nature beats that so easily. No contest.

Did something really fun on my own on the 11th of December; I went on a guided walk of Van Gogh’s London. It was a freezing cold day and the walk took us from Covent Garden to Stockwell in south London, and lasted about three hours. We started at the corner of where the art dealer that Van Gogh worked for in 1873-4 once was, and then walked across the river as he would have when walking back home from work. The tour ended at a small and beautifully restored Georgian house (called Van Gogh House), where he lodged in one of the rooms. Post on this amazing day to come.

Wasn’t feeling Christmas this year (but then I never do), but finally on the 12th the tree went up and me and Oomoo dressed it with these. I should remember that all the decorations around the house, as well as the tree, makes it really cosy in the darkest month of the year, and that it does bring a bit of cheer and that there’s nothing wrong with that at all.

And after finally being give the go-ahead for household mixing over the holidays, Christmas Day looked a lot more like usual than last year’s.

Two brothers/uncles listening to something funny whilst prepping for the main meal.

Our sister-in-law always brings it on the Christmas jumper front.

Mr Famapa got me Paul McCartney’s The Lyrics, which I’ve really enjoyed dipping in and out of in the evenings. I got him three Beatles albums on vinyl which only arrived a week ago, as the post has been seriously messed up with so many postal workers going down with Covid in the past month. Look forward to the day when Covid is endemic and nothing special anymore.

Have swum in the Ladies Pond pretty much every day this winter, which will always be special. There’s been a few beautiful foggy mornings like this one, making the world look black and white, and stunning sunny ones more recently. So grateful to be able to get there so easily.

There’s been a lot of guitar practice going on by Mr Famapa. He’s the most disciplined learner in the house.

Had a really nice New Year’s Eve with friends we hadn’t seen for 18 months. Not on purpose, but just that Covid thing of your world shrinking and you falling out of the habit of having people round.

Not sure what’s going on here. Were they checking what time it was? We definitely peaked around 10pm.

But by some miracle we managed to keep our energy levels up (our friends left at 2.20am, which must be a record for us middle aged folks), and we may have all been doing the running man to Auld Lang Syne minutes into the new year. OK, I confess - we did.

December was one of the least sunny Decembers on record, and yes, when you live in the UK this is the sort of thing you keep track of. We averaged just under 26 hours for the whole month, but January has been much better - and colder - phew. It was unseasonably mild around the New Year with +15c for a few days; even the pond temperature went up from +5.5c to +10c. Unheard of and very unsettling.

A pre-back to school haircut for the Oomster. I’ve been taking these haircutting pictures all his life. Will be fun to see them all together one day.

D looking out the amazing huge window at the Royal Academy a couple of weekends ago. Went to see the Helene Binet exhibition which we enjoyed.

Oxford Circus was very quiet for a Sunday. The centre of London has again been a bit of a ghost town, but that might all change next week when they review the Covid rules. Seems like we’re over the worst of it - for now.

After Binet we saw Frans Hals at the Wallace Collection, which was ace. The free audio guide added so much more to the pictures, and we enjoyed looking at them through Grayson Perry’s eyes, who we got to listen to as we walked through the exhibition.

And there he is, the famous Laughing Cavalier, painted almost 400 years ago.

A cool sunburst ceiling rose on the way out of the Wallace Collection. Would one of these be too much in a house today? Probably. But also really cool.

And speaking of houses of today; last week our dining room got a new lick of paint. So happy with the result - it’s like a whole new room! A perfect way to start the year.

So much cosier in there now, and I forgot how elegant a dark shade makes a room. We’ve definitely gotten back round to the idea of having people around for dinner again, and on Saturday we enjoyed having the in-laws here for the first time in ages. Next up for a new colour: the living room. Time to kill off the white walls in our house.

And finally, yesterday morning, when I swam in ice for the first time. Half of the swimming area in the Ladies Pond was covered in it, and I really wanted to touch it, but I didn’t dare annoy the lifeguards as they’d asked us to steer clear, as you can cut yourself. The past few days have been stunning and I’ve been lucky enough to score one of the changing benches in the sun, so I can look at this gorgeous view of the Bird Pond as I pile all my clothes back on and drink my thermos of hot tea. Has to be my favourite part of my day. I’m such a lucky lady.

In the dock of the bay

Right, time to jump back in time and to our Yorkshire trip in August. Just like the previous recap post about The Kilburn White Horse and Rievaulx Abbey, an episode from Winter Walks made me want to check out Robin Hood’s Bay (if you can watch the episode where you are, Simon Armitage - the Poet Laureate - guides us there on his winter walk; you can see when he arrives at RBH at 23:31min). In the 18th century the village was the busiest smugglers community on the Yorkshire coast. Apparently you could send up a bale of silk from the bottom of the village to the top without it ever leaving the houses, and the reason why will become obvious further on. Its location made it the perfect spot for this line of business, as it was surrounded by marshes on three sides and the sea to the east. It has also been a fishing village but is now home to just 42 people, as 75% of the houses are holiday lets.

It’s ridiculously pretty don’t you think? I’d actually love to come back here in winter and rent a place.

When we arrived we quickly grabbed a table at a café for some snacks, and as we were sitting under a massive parasol waiting in the rain, there was an awful racket. A seagull chick, almost fully grown, was hopping from parasol to parasol, squawking like only a loud seagull can, and at one point it tipped ours so a whole load of water came down the side of it. Luckily none of us got drenched.

Bellies full we headed down to the beach, where the tide was out, to have a little wander. This was the view looking southwards.

And this northwards.

I was not tempted to swim. Too much of a faff afterwards.

But that didn’t stop the kids. Nothing stops kids when you’re at the beach. There’s something in-built that makes them want to dip their toes, or in this case their legs.

Even in the rain. And yes, a Saul Leiter homage is going on right here.

Rae the dog had a go too.

Looks like some nice bit of rock pooling is happening here.

We also went exploring in the village, which meant getting higher up.

A couple of cool crazy fonts on the way.

Talk about being close to your neighbours. Also, no cars. It did make me wonder how the hell you’d get all your shopping home from the supermarket, or all your suitcases and bags to your rental. And what happens if you live here and you’ve bought a new sofa, or if you’re having work done on your house? Maybe that’s when you get your neighbours to help by passing things up and through? Although the village seems too empty for that to work these days.

You must have known your neighbours pretty well back in the day, living this close to them.

Even from up here you can see how narrow the lanes/paths between the houses are.

If I was a painter I’d for sure paint this view. Alas, I’m not, so this will have to do.

Maybe they used pack mules to get stuff into their houses?! That’s it. I will accept that as the answer. You can also imagine how easy it would be to shake off anyone chasing after you, as it’s so much like a labyrinth here, with lots of nooks and crannies to hide in.

So there you go, that’s what our day in Robin Hood’s Bay looked like. There’s a new series out now of Winter Walks, but part of me is thinking that maybe I should save them, in case things here turn worse and we enter a fourth lockdown in a few weeks time. I’d be very surprised if that is what happens, but I’d also not be very surprised if it is. If there’s something I’ve learnt in the past nearly two years, it’s that you never know what’s around the corner (which we actually never ever really knew anyway, we just tend to kid ourselves into thinking that we do know our futures - or we rather did). Well, at least we can always look back, eh?

Summer in winter

I don’t know about you, but looking at art is like medicine for me, so after being ill, the first thing I wanted to do was dose myself up on other people’s creativity. Last Tuesday morning I sat down and looked at what was on, and wrote down a list of 15 (!) exhibitions I wanted to go to. After having established the date order of when to go, I headed into town to see Mixing It Up at the Hayward Gallery. Just as I was mere meters away I thought: “Wait, isn’t the Hayward shut on Tuesdays?!” only to see that it was. I put it down to my post-Covid brain not remembering to check whether they were open or not. My other genius move was that I’d left my list at home, but I remembered what was no. 2: The Summer Exhibition at the Royal Academy. So, back across the river I walked, arriving at the RA by lunch time and going straight to the café. There I sat, eating my sandwich, facing this mural by Gilbert Spencer called An Artist’s Progress, painted in 1959. Apparently it wasn't very popular at the time, and one critic called it “The worst picture of the year!.” Ouch. I however enjoyed looking at it and following the story, and how it made a good backdrop for the lunching ladies. Re-energised and rested, I went upstairs to embark on the marathon awaiting me; the Summer Exhibition contains over a 1000 artworks. I took a lot of pictures, and I’m going to post 45 of them here. “45 pictures in one post?! Are you mad?!!” I hear you say. Well, I thought it fitting, as walking through the exhibition itself is quite an undertaking. So, make yourself comfortable (maybe boil that kettle), ‘cause here goes.

Mexican Man With Green And Red Spotted Shirt Bill Traylor £96,500

The annual Summer Exhibition has been on every year at the Royal Academy since 1769, and for the past couple of years it’s been held in late autumn/early winter because of the pandemic. It has never been cancelled, not even during the world wars. Each exhibition is co-ordinated by a Royal Academician, and this year’s selection was over seen by Yinka Shonibare. The title of it is Reclaiming Magic, and Bill Traylor’s art worked as a catalyst of what the theme should be. From the guide book of the exhibition: “We begin our journey with the work of one artist, Bill Traylor, from whom the kaleidoscope of ideas in the exhibition has evolved. Born into slavery in 1854, he did not start making art until the age of 85. He was a self-taught artist and has come into prominence in our time as society has shifted its values. Bill Traylor’s work singularly inspired the idea of looking beyond the boundaries of Western art history.”

Red Man With Pipe
Bill Traylor £71,500

Lamp, Abstract Table, Figures And Dog
Bill Traylor £89,500

Now, if you’re a long time reader of the blog (cast your mind back to the heady days of blogging in 2008 if so), you might remember that I got given a book about him, which blew my mind, so to see his work IRL was incredible. I had no idea he was included, so it was a pleasant surprise, and I spent a long time looking at them, with my heart beating a bit faster.

Untitled (Construction With Figures) Bill Traylor NSF (not for sale)

Almost all of the work at the Summer Exhibition is for sale, and had I been a millionaire I might have considered Red Man With Pipe (see above above - ha!), a mere snip at £71,500.

Right then, let’s move on. The fun thing about the SE is that the works on display is a mixture of works from established, new or amateur artists and members of the public. Anyone can enter.

The Musician Joy Yamusage £9,500

I didn’t shoot this with anything to give it scale, but it was huge - and cool.

Prison Culture: Canteen II by Lee Cutter £3,200

I saw some of Lee Cutters’ carved soaps at the 2018 SE. They are really something.

George Floyd Remembered Ian Wright £650

It has never occurred to me that you could do actual portraits with Hama beads.

Memento Mori Chrissie Freeth NFS (not for sale)

There’s no doubt I’m middle aged now, as I keep finding that my taste is changing. I now love tapestries, I can listen to opera without wanting to turn it off and I’ve also come round to watercolour paintings. I used to think they were so naff, and now I love how delicate they are. Anyway, I digress. I found the craftsmanship in this amazing.

Pull Max Frommeld £2,000

Now how’s this for a fancy light pull? It’s actually quite large, maybe about 25cm in diameter. It would be so beautiful hanging in the window of a minimalist house.

Hold Max Frommeld £2,800

As would this handle type thing (see, I know all the art critic lingo). I reeaaaaally liked this. I’d love it just jutting out on a wall somewhere random at home. But obviously not in the loo, as that would be beyond middle age.

Yayoi Kusama Rod Melvin £1,025

Pretty obvious who this is, eh? Also, knitted portraits! Totally deserves an exclamation mark.

Red Robin Harry Hill £50

Harry Hill is a British (very British) stand up comedian, who’s very silly and has made us laugh a lot over the years. He’s also a bit of an amateur artist on the side, and this was one of his entries. You can see him talk about it here.

Renovation of the Headquarters of the Royal Geographical Society, Kensington Gore
Adam Caruso and Peter St John RA (Royal Academician) £360

I’ve always found the architecture room at the SE quite boring, but this year was different, as I’ve become much more interested in architecture since Covid and my lockdown looking-at-buildings walks. £360 isn’t a huge amount of money for something as nice as this, but I don’t have that sort of spare cash. A photo of the print will have to do.

UCL East Marshgate - Study Model 1:100 Stanton Williams NFS

I know for sure that in another life, Mr Famapa would have been a model maker. He’d be awesome at it.

It wasn’t madly busy, which was nice. I love the quiet in a gallery/museum on a weekday, with the chance to step away from the world outside, especially now as town is all Christmassy and busy.

Chibok Girls: Nigeria’s Stolen Daughters Julienne Hanson £750

Went in a bit closer on this, so you can see it more in detail. Another very large knitted piece.

Another wide shot so you can see how much there is on the walls, and also how high up some of it is. I’d be a pit peeved if that was my picture on top of the throughway like that, wouldn’t you?

6 Works From the Vocabulary Series Marlene Dumas Hon RA NFS

I love Marlene Dumas’ work. Talk about cool watercolours. Her stuff is so otherworldly. She’s got a big exhibition in Venice next year. I might send myself over there in the post so I can see it.

Verde Ana Ayesta £1,000

See number 284? The minimalist green and black piece. Gutted that it was hanging so high up. I really liked the look of it, but struggled to see it properly, and the reflections didn't help either. Shame.

Sleep Well Heidrun Rathgeb £330

Looooooved this wood cut. Another one I would’ve bought with my Monopoly money.

Ada Set Of Stairs 40.11 Wolgang Tillmans RA £108,960

This massive inkjet print really stood out. I was wondering how you can even print something that big, and then when I saw that it was by Wolfgang Tillmans, and I understood that if you’re Wolfgang Tillmans you can. I overheard these two ladies saying that they found it a bit scary, as if it was about to fall down on them. I kind of know what they mean.

Tried to get a shot of this lady with her hat and colour combo, but she moved just as I took the picture.

The Business Of Hanging Around Terry Wood £14,750

Liked the contrast of the clean painting floating in the air and the ornate moulding in the ceiling.

Back Of Wendover, The Aylesbury Fragments Harriet Mena Hill £1,350

Who’s to say that you can’t paint on bits of salvaged concrete?

Amnesiac Beach Fire (Mod II) Mike Nelson RA £15,000

Or make a fire in the corner?

Our Visit To The Contemporary Art Museum Did Not Go Entirely As Planned Glen Baxter £6,800

This made me smile and think of Gary Larson.

Troglodytes Of The Northern Desert Stephen Farthing RA £8,000

Looking at this really messed with my eyes. Some colours put next to makes our brains very confused. This painting was like an afterimage.

End Of The Night Class Gutsche £390

Another one that I would’ve bought. It really reminded me of summer nights in the Swedish countryside. Must be the pine trees.

Stardust Eileen Cooper RA £1,150/£900

There were quite a few Eileen Cooper artworks in the there (I guess one of the many perks of being a Royal Academician is that you can enter as many artworks as you want) but this one was my fave.

Changeling 001 Brett Walker £390/290

See the half cat half human portrait? Loooooooove it.

Seeing Red (Again) Corneila Parker RA £666

This made me smile so much. I think this might be the third version of this concept from Corneila Parker, but she could just run with this forever and ever. It’s a dead cert to get chosen every year, but then she would be anyway, because the lady is a genius. You can read more about the first version Stolen Thunder (Red Spot) here.

Matrix IV, From: Aquatints Antony Gormley RA £2,400

Focus!

Ahhh, that’s better. I really enjoyed the times where I immediately felt something; either instantly liking it or recognising who the art was by, before looking in the List of Works guidebook to check the artist. This was one of those occasions where I instantly liked it. When I read that it was by Antony Gormley it made perfect sense - I love everything he does.

Sin - Without Ed Ruscha HON RA

And this was one of those times when I knew who’d made it straight away - Ed Ruscha (kind of obvious I guess, haha).

So Long And Thanks For All The FIsh Derek Curtis £2,500

See the little painting on its own above the doorway? How aptly placed. Just that bit away from everyone else. Stupid effin’ Brexit. I hate it.

Chris Whitty’s Cat Grayson Perry RA NFS

I don’t hate this though. Such pleasure to also see this in real life, as I watched this being made in one of the Grayson’s Art Club episodes last year. In the first lockdown, broadcast on Channel 4 in weekly instalments, Grayson Perry started an art club, with weekly themes that members of the public could partake in, and send him their art. The end result is an exhibition of lockdown art that is currently travelling the country. There were so many good things on TV to keep us sane in those many months of isolation, but Perry’s show was probably the best.

A Little Bit Of InfinityB/C/F Peter Randall-Page RA £4,000 each

Noice noice. Really liking the complex simplicity of these. Whoa, I’m hitting the wall dudes. Are you? This is a flipping monster of a post. Are you still with me? Or are you scrolling going “Next. Next.”? Don’t tell me, as it’s easier for me to pretend that you find all of this interesting, because I’ve spent HOURS doing this post. We’re nearly there guys, only six more pics to go. We can DO IT.

Exodus Zak Ové £43,200

This was a very popular piece, with a lot of nostalgic men looking at it. Made it impossible to get a clean shot of it without anyone in it.

Pool 1 Christine Haig £480/280

So beautiful this, isn’t it? One thing I think I figured out is that if you’re submitting photographs to the SE, they must be very clean graphically. More like something that you put in your house because it goes well with the interior, rather than it being a good picture (not the case here though, but it falls in that bracket too). I think it’s a bit unfair, as so many of the other art works are really busy, and a thing within itself. It could also be that the photographs that get in are like this because they have to compete with busy paintings and the like, and it’s the only way they’ll stand out. They can’t all be huge like Wolfgang Tillmans’ print (which, hello, was very clean graphically!). I’d love to see what the photos that don’t make it in are like. Are they better photographs? Or is this kind of photography the only kind being submitted? Or does the photographer think about how they can easily sell their work? And actually, I’m equally guilty of thinking of the art in the exhibition in relation to what would look like in my house. I guess it can’t be helped, as if you’re buying art, it’s generally going up on a wall, in a home. Still, I think it’s interesting that there’s such a clear division between photography and the other art forms on display here, but I realise that I’m being hypocritical, seeing as all the pieces I’ve taken pictures of and have posted here, fall in the bracket “clean graphically”. “But I used to be a graphic designer” she whispers. “So I can’t actually help it. It’s deeply embedded in my visual DNA”. Pffffft.

Fatou Amoalko Boafo (Private Collection) NFS

I guess it’s harder for photographs to “compete” when there’s such great things around them like this painting for example. I’m sure if I had a go at finger painting it would not turn out like this.

Experiencing British Art History Nelly Dimitranova £3,500

OMG. This. This is epic. First it made me laugh as I know this colour chart from Farrow & Ball very well, but then my jaw kind of dropped when I looked closer at each paint chip. Every one of them a drawing of a famous British painting or sculpture. I mean, everyone is in there, honestly. If you take your time, I’m sure you’ll recognise loads of them. I recommend coming back to this and looking at them all properly, as I completely get that you might just have OD’d on all of this by now.

I did tell you. The Summer Exhibition is a real undertaking. So is a blog post with 45 pictures.

But we’ve finally made it to the end. If I find out you just scrolled through it all, I’m going to come and pinch you. And I’ll take a picture of me doing it, and then I’ll enter it to next year’s Summer Exhibition. Boom.

Out the other end

Last week’s view.

Hey. How goes it? It’s finally better here; our household all went down with Covid a couple of weeks ago, with Oomoo catching it in school and testing positive on his birthday - which seemed a bit mean. He’d actually asked to have the vaccine for his 12th birthday, but we’ll take natural immunity (of sorts) as a consolation. It’s a bit ironic, as I recently had secretly been craving a lockdown (I know, it makes no sense, but I think I was just tired and wanted a break, also, with everything seemingly being even more unknown at the moment, I should be careful what I wish for), and getting ill gave me that slow time that I wanted, needed. Both me and Mr Famapa were due our boosters, but the virus got us before we had the chance to get them. All I kept thinking was how lucky we were that we had had the vaccine to start with, and how, if I felt as badly as I did, what the hell would it have been like without it? So what did I do for 10 days? I set up camp in the spare room, placing my desktop computer in there and watching hours and hours of archive programmes on BBC iPlayer, pretty much only watching old architecture documentaries from the 60’s/70’s/80’s, and other random bits of old TV. I loved every minute of it; to see and hear real people talk about their lives, and see life on the streets as it actually was (and most shows I watched were from London as well) , made me realise that our visual history is usually passed on in time through dramas or interviews with famous people. Here are some of the programmes I watched, if you’re interested and in the UK:

A House in Bayswater

Ours to Keep

Architecture at the Crossroads - 8. Houses Fit For People

Building Sights - Byker Wall

Building Sights - Trellick Tower

Building Sights - Alexander Fleming House

Three Swings on a Pendulum

Man Alive - Hyde Park

Special Enquiry - A Girl Comes to London

Eye to Eye - Now We Are Married

We also watched Peter Jackson’s Get Back epic Beatles documentary, which was actually magical. Jackson has spent the past four years sifting through 57+ hours of footage that Michael Lindsay-Hogg shot for the 1970 film Let It Be, restoring it and polishing everything up, so it looks like it was shot just weeks ago, and re-telling the story of what led to The Beatles’ last live performance on top of the EMI’s roof on Savile Row. You get to be a fly on the wall as John, Paul, George and Ringo jam and find their way to finished songs like Get Back, Let It Be, I Me Mine and Don’t Let Me Down. The footage of Paul messing about and finally coming up with the intro to Get Back was truly jaw dropping. It felt like I stopped breathing when I watched it happen; it really came out of nowhere! And to see how they create, what are now some of the most famous songs ever written, and how relaxed they are as they figure them out, is just mind blowing. It is incredibly slow at times, but I loved the mundanity of some of it. AND! They’re in their late 20’s here (in fact George is only 25, and Billy Preston who joins the band on keyboards, 23), which is also just crazy. Weirdly, after the almost eight hours were up, we were sad that it was over. I’ve been playing their music non-stop for the past few days, and will keep doing so for a long long time. The two weeks that Covid gave me time wise have been immensely culturally rewarding, and for that I’m truly grateful. Silver linings yo, silver linings.

P.S. If you can’t watch the documentary itself this article sums it up perfectly (about a 10 min read).