More Open Houses

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Originally uploaded by fred pipes

Well, the Festival of Artists' Open Houses is over for another year (or until Xmas, but I don't usually show then) and I'm pleased to say that I sold about 7 prints from The Dragonfly House. Yesterday I sent in a sicky to the Clarion, and decided to scale the heights of Hanover to check out some more Open Houses. Katie Mac had sent me a Facebook invitation to 134 Queen's Park Road so decided to make that the summit and work back down from there. It's not easy finding a route up the hills that doesn't involve some bike pushing, but I zigzagged up the steep streets and eventually arrived at the summit. There should be a funicular railway for Hanover, or at least a ski lift - the people who live there must be very fit! Also in the house was Andy MacLynn (who did the cover of the AOH brochure) and I really love his reductive acrylics of Brighton, just black line and one or two colours - and lots of white. Katie's saucy screenprints were a delight too and there was lots to see in this huge house, including the dark animals of Simon Postgate, son of Oliver, creator of Bagpuss, the Clangers, Noggin the Nog and Ivor the Engine. A quick pop into the basement at 134a, and across the road into 145 then it was cycling uphill again (I thought I'd reached the top?) then down Bentham Road to a nuclear bunker!

No. 62 is an installation by a group of 'pengineers' (pen engineers, not residents of Penge) led by Philip Cole who have explored the futility of preparing for nuclear war. Their garden is deceptively huge and in the middle is a restored Anderson shelter, the inspiration for this piece (it also has a view - though a massive concrete wall - of Hanover's mysterious reservoir). Back in the house under the floorboards is a secret stash of tinned pears! I bought an unknown chilli pepper plant and a large courgette plant (to replace the one chomped by slugs the other day) and headed down Whichelo Place (completely missing another open house I was going to pop into, but there was no going back!) to the Hanover Community Centre for a cup of tea and a scone, and to buy two heritage tomato plants (along with a set of Ben Naylor postcards!). Then it was round the corner to 88 Lincoln Street to see the photos of Andy Deighton and Lauren Chauvin - Brighton Flickr group regulars. A quick pop into 13 Lincoln Cottages and it was off home, fully laden! But... I decided to pop into 17 Clyde Road to photograph Alan Baker and Curtis Tappenden, but Curt was up at The Pecks at 145 Ditchling Rise having cake, so I trudged up the hill and rewarded myself with a slice of rhubarb cake and more tea! Then it was back to the Dragonfly House to pack up for Adur - I'll be showing in Krysia Drury's open house during June!

Other Festival highlights included Jarvis Cocker's highly entertaining lecture on lyrics - from Louie Louie to Leonard Cohen, via Des'ree and 'I am the Walrus' - at the Dome on Friday night (including 3 songs with him accompanying himself on guitar) and jumpin' an' jivin' to Fat 45 at the (Pussy) Parlure Spiegeltent on Thursday night (well past my bedtime!).

Peter Chrisp's Tiki-themed birthday bash at Hove's retro Bali Brasserie was the debut public performance of Uklear Reaction (sadly, no MySpace page yet), plus a stonkin' set from Jailbait. UR's second gig was at the Dragonfly House end-of-show party on Saturday night, tho Peter and Foz? missed most of it (and the whitebait and chips from Bardsley's), due to theatre-going commitments!

Jane's Blog

Jane's Blog: Highly entertaining blog from Jane Millar, of 11 York Villas. If you want to know who everyone is, consult the first posting!

Atters' other world

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Originally uploaded by fred pipes

I don't normally go out on a Monday, but the prospect of some theramin action plus tasteful striptease, all under the direction of Atters - and FREE - was too much to resist. So it was across the border into Hove once more, and the Iron Duke. This is another pub I have so far missed in my 20+ years in the 'city', but with Harvey's (at £2.65 a pint) and Landlord on tap I'll be back! The band was Spacedog, with Sarah Angliss on theramin, musical saw, and one of those blowy plastic piano things that Foz? has, all processed through a Mac. Atters did his hilarious paranormal slideshow (spookily, the sheet screen dematerialised at one point!), then it was Spacedog again, this time with Clara 2.0, the robot doll. They're on at the Sanctuary on Wednesday if you want to catch them. Finally, Atters couldn't contain his excitement when burlesque star Ruby DeMure performed her sensational 'Beneath the Tash of Atters' routine. What more could a chap ask for?

Artists' Open Houses

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Yesterday I arose too late to make the Clarion bike ride, so resolved to visit some Open Houses as recompense. I decided to do Seven Dials, via Hove (to avoid the hill of New England Road), via George (closing down sale) and Robert Dyas (where on earth can you get small terracotta flowerpots in Brighton?). First it was up the hill of Brunswick Road to see Colleen Slater's gorgeous underwater flower photos at 'Our Beautiful Maisonette' at No 19. Also liked Dee Berridge's life drawings (note to self: must get down the Sussex County Arts Club soon!). The combination of heat, hill and art was making my temperature soar, so I set off deeper into Hove to see Tessa Wolfe Murray's ceramics. They weren't where they were last year tho, so I copped an unexpected one at Amews Art, 23a Wilbury Grove - some first timers showing sculpture, photos and screenprints in their studio. Onwards and upwards, past some very grand villas, to 51 Wilbury Road, two flats in the same building, where Tessa's sublime ceramics (she hates me calling them pots!) were on show. Tessa BTW is a comrade Clarionette. I marvelled at Lawrence Latham's time-lapse photography and bumped into Ali Hastilow, who is showing in a Seven Dials house later on my list.

Now was a tricky bit, getting from one map in the AOH brochure to the other! By chance I took the right turning and spotted Silverdale Road, so popped into The Glass House for one of Kim Glass's prize-winning cream teas, a sit down and a chat. Revived, it was on to Chanctonbury Road, where two houses right next door to each other were open: first timers Eight O Nine at no. 13 showing the eery photography of Cameron Watt; and at 15, festival regulars Artists Live Here. I resisted one of Terri Bell-Halliwell's cakes and wandered upstairs to bump into old chum Jerry Webb, with whom I used to work at EMAP many moons ago! He's showing photos there. Bought a signed book: The Illustrated Brighton Moment, and it was off again, retracing my steps to get to Granville Road. A coach party was filing into Square Enough so I popped over the road to see Cecil Rice's phenomenal watercolours (and equally fantastic oils). I did a workshop with him at BIP last year to try learn some of his secrets (lots of space, big brushes, lots of water!) - he's been to the Taj Mahal and the paintings are breathtaking. Did I mention that I love his work?

Then it was across the road to see Oli and Joe at no.13. I got them to sign my Illustrated Brighton Moment book and bought a card and a badge (it's a cracker!), which both turned out to be by Joe again (I bought his Beer book last year!) - Oli didn't seem too upset! Ben Allen's mansion was going to be my last stop. Bumped into Stella Starr in the garden next to the tortoises and said hello to Jon Crane who'd been printing his pansies next to me at BIP the other week (he also did Cecil's workshop!). All the BIP boys and girls were on show in this huge house: Jane Sampson, Rich Townsend and Rosie Irvine, daughter of my mate Rick (Rintintin) and Jan (who has a new studio down on the seafront). About to go home, I bumped into old clubbing chum Marek Kohn, who is also in the Illustrated Brighton Moment book, who insisted I visit his neighbour at 11 York Villas, only to discover it was the house of Jane Millar, another screenprinter and friend of my ex-lodger Ellie Curtis. [On today's trail, I also kept crossing the paths of a couple (Caroline and Jamie?) who know Nick Hider!]. This debutante house was full of high quality contemporary work, including the digital prints of their 13-year old son Jacob (not quite the youngest artist in AOH - that's got to be Noah Tappenden!). And so, all cultured out, home. Only another 195 houses to visit.

I must mention 13 Gladstone Place, whose PV it was on Saturday night. If you think Open Houses are all crocheted toilet roll covers and painting by numbers, get down to Vogue Gyratory! This flat is an installation! You're given a map on the way in and even told to poke around under the stairs. The work inside the narrative is all hauntingly beautiful: from Frances Stott's pencil drawings of shipwrecks in oyster shells and Lucy Cash's video loop, to Michael Hutson's photographic memories of when he was in a coma. You may have met Michael, he may have cut your hair - he's a barber on Sydney Street and frequents the Off Beat Cafe. Very Brighton!

Loppy remembered

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Well, the Open Houses are once again open for the weekends in May. I haven't seen many of them yet (preferring the Vintage Commercial Vehicles rally down at Madeira Drive yesterday!) - but I am exhibiting as usual in The Dragonfly House, where Angie and Marc provide me with a dark corner in which to show my prints old and new. Only one new one (made at BIP) this year, I'm ashamed to say, but one has sold already! Visitors to The Dragonfly House, 48 Ditchling Rise, Brighton --
winner for the past two years as Best Open House in the Artists' Open Houses Festival - may well remember Loppy the pet rabbit in the garden, always a big hit with the children. Sadly, Loppy passed away last year, but a memorial has been unveiled - a wooden automaton by Helen Sinden, best known for her wooden heart boxes. Turn the handle and Loppy dives into view and a cloud (his ghost? his dream?) rotates. There also a peep hole where a carrot is hidden! Go on, have a go - you know you want to.

Isle of Wight

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For my second coach adventure (I have yet to use my national bus pass!) I travelled to the Isle of Wight (never been there before) on Sunday with Worthing Coaches. I really really hate getting up early, but managed to cycle down to town for the 7.40am start and felt pretty rough as it trundled west, picking up passengers from towns mentioned in Lemon Jelly's 'Ramblin' Man' - Rustington, Southwick, Goring, Ferring, Angmering (well, not really, only Angmering is mentioned in the song and we didn't stop there). After passing Arundel and Chichester we arrived at the Southsea ferry terminal for the 10am cruise. I avoided the tea queue and sat on deck drinking miso soup from my flask and watching strange round forts float by in the misty distance. It's only a short half-hour hop (even quicker by hovercraft) and you can see the other side as soon as you take off! We docked at Fishbourne and were quickly on the road to Ryde and along the southern edge of the island, which was much hillier than I'd imagined. We stopped for lunch at steep Shanklin (never did discover where the beach was!), so I bought postcards of the Six or Seven Wonders (depending on which postcard) of the Isle of Wight (Needles you cannot thread, etc), and waited for The Crab to open at 12. Grabbed a pint of Goddard's and ordered a crab sandwich, which was huge. It was warm enough to sit outside, but generally the weather was a bit overcast and damp. Then we were off west down narrow lanes to see the real thing. The view of The Needles from Alum Bay is not great - to get a good view you really need to take a boat trip. Then it was back west, stopping at Godshill for tea. It's one of those villages invented for coach trips, with a huge car park and nearly every building a tea shop. I was attracted by the offer in The Hollies of a toasted tea cake and cup of tea for two quid. I followed this with a two quid ice cream (rum 'n' raisin) made by the Minghella family. I didn't pay to go in the toy museum, nor the model village, but did buy two scuptural looking succulents for 70p each. Then it was back to Fishbourne for the ferry. The weather was getting rough and I snapped a rainbow over Ryde pier before a squall came whipping in, so watched the water sloshing round the decks from inside with a can of McEwens (no draught beer). We followed a big Brittany ferry into Portsmouth, where we got a glimpse of the Spinnaker Tower and HMS Warrior, then home to catch the last episode of Foyle's War. Thanks Dave! I gave him a two quid tip. I'm not sure about these things, but seem to remember that you always tip the coach driver!

Rails Peaks and Fells

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When you become a pensioner it's compulsory to go on coach tours. An ad from Newmarket in the Argus caught my eye - Rails Peaks and Fells - I love railways (ironic isn't it) and some of the heritage ones are a bit difficult to access by public transport, so I thought I'd give it a go. It was also incredibly cheap (£150 for two nights in a hotel, all the tickets and three-days travel). Friday was tedious - I had to get myself down to the pier by 7.25, and I was the only one from Brighton. Then it was hours of pick-ups, from Burgess Hill and Crawley to Staines and Hemel Hempstead, then being stuck in traffic jams on the M6, lots of visits to motorway services, and finally our hotel - the Britannia in Bolton! The food was surprisingly tasty and it was happy hour in the bar (£1.50 for a pint of John Smiths) both nights until 9pm - the TV was crap tho (no Freeview), so it was Torchwood and an early night.

Saturday was tons better. We set off at 9am through north Lancs to Settle, with some lovely scenery on the way. Weather was bright and we had a good ride on the Settle to Carlisle route on the regular diesel, with our guide Eric. Shame we couldn't have seen the route by helicopter - caught only the briefest glimpse of Ribblehead Viaduct. In Carlisle had lunch in the cathedral tearoom with Tessa the unaccompanied lady (we three waifs and strays - me , Andrew and Tessa - sat together at meals) and a browse round the charity shops (bought a book on the 1938 Empire exhibition at Oxfam) then it was back on the coach to the Lakes. The Kirkstone Pass and views of Ullswater were breathtaking - you need a coach to see that! Windermere and Bowness were basically a tea break (but I did buy a flat cap for £3.99 plus 10% discount!), then it was back to Bolton, where I managed to escape for an hour of two after dinner to see my family in Bury. We'd seen boxing bunnies, magpies, baby ba-lambs, pheasants, lots of plastic bags in trees, a grouse (well, it looked like the bird on the whisky bottle), snow, daffs, primroses, waterfalls and lots of steep hills.

Sunday we went straight down to the potteries to take in the factory shops at Spode and Wedgwood. We should have done them Friday, but cos of motorway delays it was today. I actually bought something (a bowl and mug - some china made in China)! Then after a brief stop in Telford services where the sandwiches were too dear to contemplate, it was off to the two-level town of Bridgenorth and the Severn Valley Railway. After a bowl of chips in the cafe and a wander round taking snaps of locos (45110, 48773 and 7802 Bradley Manor were in the yard), I grabbed a pint of Dark Raven and jumped on the 2.30 to Kidderminster. We were pulled by 88 (53808), a 2-8-0 from Minehead in the colours of the Somerset & Dorset Joint Railway. I had my head out of the window right by the front of this magnificent loco (it was going backwards) and it made a gorgeous sound (got told off for making a draught!). Coming into the station as we were leaving was 7812 Erlestoke Manor, and on the way we saw GWR pannier tank 7714, mickey 42968, and Prairie 4566, which was taking the train back to Bridgend. Six locos were in steam that day! Full list of locos on Wikipedia. Then it was off home, with a pint of Abbot ale in Crawley (I was told to remove my wooly hat in the pub!) while driver Don got his 30 minute EU regulation break. He kindly dropped me off at the bottom of Ditchling Rise, so it was home for Casualty 1907.

The verdict: despite the tedium of Friday, it was a very pleasant experience overall. Coach travel is very comfortable and you're taken everywhere door to door. We had a helpful Janet the Tour Manager and the hotel, whilst being remote (by the motorway for businessmen), was comfortable and the food surprisingly good, with meat, fish and veggie both nights. Evenings could have been a problem - must get the laptop sorted. We could have had longer on the railways, but it was a great taster, and we saw lots you probably wouldn't see as an independent traveller.

Peter Saville

Popped along to The Space at the Jooglebury last night to see Peter Saville interviewed. First we were treated to the very jolly Spaniard Vicente Todoli, Director of Tate Modern, who didn't believe in visions (he was brought up a Franco Catholic) nor favourites and only got the job because art was his third love (after books and film). Live music was from a rather dull The Scarlet Street Resistance. Saville, no relation to Jimmy, was inevitably asked about Ian Curtis and Tony Wilson and some factions of the audience were rather sniffy about his work for Wham! He said when he went to the studios to get the credit info for 'Wake me up before you Go-Go' (cheers from audience) from George Michael, he thought it'd take ages. 'The overweight 20-year-old' said: it's simple, just put: Written, arranged and produced by George Michael. And he meant it! Saville said he was glad of the work cos he was banned by most record companies - he was always late, he was expensive and the stuff was difficult to produce. Melita asked about the golden age of vinyl covers and Saville pointed out that album covers completely comprised youth culture in those days - there were no magazines, websites, whatever there are nowadays. But album covers don't pay the rent and he moved into more corporate work. He said he was notorious for spending his fees three times, something that resonated with the freelancers in the audience: when he first got a job, he'd spend the money; when he invoiced the job, he'd spend it again; and when he finally got the cheque, he'd spend it all again! I took along my copy of Unknown Pleasures for him to sign (I won nothing in the raffle!)- he said it was too valuable to sign!! I said no, no, no! and he very carefully signed it under the credits on the inner sleeve. My hero! Dan Thompson has been chasing me about not updating my blog enough. He's opened a record shop in Worthing called Revolutionary Records (was Random Rules). I popped over there on Saturday to be delighted by free badges and live acoustic sets by Ben Salter and some of the Bamboo Band, including James Fryer on a Venezuelan cuatro. Treated myself to some veggie pies from Worthing's fabulous Waitrose on the way home. Off Up North on a coach trip this weekend, now that Time Team has finished for another season! Dan and Ben Salter And I forgot to mention that I went on a coach trip to Aldermaston (atom bomb factory) on Easter Monday, to 'Ban the Bomb'. Much amusement was caused by the sign that prohibited photography - and sketching! The police were serious too, even tho all that could be seen through the fence were nondescript buildings! Lots of stirring speeches and a grand day out.

Rockabilly Jamboree

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Originally uploaded by fred pipes.

Following on from the last blog entry, The Hare and Hounds (aka The Hairy Hounds) is just round the corner from me and I must have been in it twice in the past 20 years, but never before upstairs. (Last time was to see local soul band The Champions.) Downstairs on Saturday night was an enthusiastic young punk band The Eleven 37s, but upstairs it was the Rockabilly Jamboree! Gorgeous Rusty was on the door and I'd just missed the support band, so I got a pint of Bombardier and settled down for Jailbait, with Andy Roberts. But it wasn't just Jailbait, there was also burlesque! Including a distressed damsel tied to a cactus, the attack of the 50-foot woman, and of course, Stella Starr in full cowgirl gear. Earlier I'd popped down to the opening of Red Mutha on Trafalgar Street where my old clubbing chum Marky Charles of London was playing with his band Gobsausage. They were very exciting, with lots of noise, naughty gimpishy nudity and microphone throwing! True essence of punk. The kids were gobsmacked!

Bom-Bane's

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I've lived in Brighton for over 20 years now, but there are still parts of it to discover - Kemp Town, for example. Last night I met my uke chums Foz? and Peter plus Lisa at a pub I'd never been to - 'the home of the blues in Brighton' The Ranelagh Arms, on a little side road called High Street, for a quick pint before repairing round the corner to Bom-Bane's on George Street. Now I'm sure I've been here before when it was something else, but now it's more an art installation than a restaurant (see it to believe it!), and on alternate Tuesdays they have music downstairs, curated by Jane Bom-Bane's son Rudi. It kicked off with a quartet of violin, Rudi himself on mandolin, banjo and a guitarist singing some sweet songs, with co-proprietor Nick Pynn precariously perched on the spiral staircase fiddling, not with his usual instrument, but with the sound mixer. The tiny space was packed but not uncomfortable and took me back to 1969 and the Arts Lab, when troubadors like Roy Harper, Brigid St John and John Martin would stop by. Artistes were seemingly picking from the instruments hanging on the wall (Nick's?) and playing them! Next up were the mandolin and clarinet duo James and Alex who for me were the stars of the night: lovely voices, excellent songs. The first half concluded with Gabriel Byrne who was OK but whose guitar was annoyingly out of tune. As everyone jostled to buy more Belgian beer, two strange figures sat calmly waiting to start the second half: an African warrior with black feather head dress and a dreadlocked chap in glasses with gourd things on their laps. Music was coming from somewhere, but was it a tape? or was it really eminating from those enigmatic globes. No musician movement could be detected! It was Linos Wengara Magaya and Tim Lloyd from Zimbabwe playing Mbiras (thumb pianos) and even though I couldn't understand a word of the vocals the hypnotic sound really communicated a happy atmosphere. Then, the highlight of the evening, a magical unaccompanied duet from Jane and her beautiful barmaid about a journey around Brighton, ending up at - Bom-Bane's. Top of the bill Sam Beer down from London, was, well very top-of-the-bill! He was a pleasant enough chap and a very accomplished guitarist, but the songs were just the slightest bit dull. Carrier pigeon take me home! The audience, most of whom weren't even born when I moved to Brighton, loved him though, and overall it was a top night out for 3 quid, with not one dud on the bill. Must go back there and try the food!

The Politics Show

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Last Tuesday I was phoned by my chum Patricia, who works at Age Concern - she had 24 hours to round up three volunteers to be on telly, riding around on a bus, talking about bus passes. Naturally, being a media tart, I jumped at it. I cycled to Hove Bus Depot and met up with the others, one of which, by complete coincidence, was Clarion Social Secretary Ed Furey! So, along with presenter Max Cotton, bus supremo Roger French and a lady tory councillor, we rode around Brighton filming a piece for Sunday's Politics Show, national section (I was on the local insert a year or two ago talking about Artists' Open Houses)! You can watch it again here for a week - we're on after the eco-houses. Of course, they made us jump through hoops and it all took much longer than expected - and I had to wait until the bitter end so I could get a lift back to my bike. Great fun, tho!

Dulwich day out

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My trip out with my newish Giant Halfway 7 folding bike didn't start well. The little tyres were squidgy and they had a different valve to my workhorse Giant Stonebreaker! It has Presta valves, but with a bit of fiddling about (you have to unwind the nipple bit to let the air in) and adjusting of my pump (two plastic things inside the business end had to be turned around and replaced) I got them nice and firm. It was on Brighton station that I realised I'd forgotten to bring a lock, so I cycled down the hill and popped the one from my other bike in my bag and so it was back to London Road station for the second time! The trip to London on the fast train was uneventful - I parked my bike (unfolded) in the designated place by the toilet. Then I wheeled it around to Platform 3 at Victoria for the Orpington train (no cycle space, so i stuck it by the door). First obstacle was at West Dulwich ststion - steps! Hmm not too bad going down, but I'd have to lug it up again on the way back. Then onto the streets of London and a cycle lane most of the way to Dulwich Picture Gallery, where a row of cycle racks outside cheered the heart.

I was there for The Age of Enchantment exhibition, subtitled 'Beardsley, Dulac and their Contemporaries 1890-1930'. It was fabulous. Starting with a whole room of delicious Beardsleys, it led onto room upon room of artwork from the golden age of illustration, with some of the greatest penmanship (and penwomanship) known to man (and woman). From Beardsley's Gothic followers such as the saucy Harry Clarke, Laurence Houseman, Charles Ricketts, and Charles Robinson (no William Heath or Thomas) - but it was great to be able to see his pencil markings to the printer in the margins - through obsessive Glasgow ladies, such as Jessie Marion King, whose 'The White Lady' - drawn on vellum with added touches of silver - has some of the most microscopic pen lines I've ever seen! Through the weirdness of Sidney Sime, to a couple of Rackhams, to the wacky Detmold twins (with Edward's furry animals almost as good as Alan Baker's), to a room devoted to Edmund Dulac. Now, I've seen Dulac's before and was amazed by their colour, not always emulated in the printed book, but I admit being slightly disappointed by this selection, which with a couple of exceptions including the poster for the exhibition, appeared dark and overworked. By the last room we are now into the more decorative Art Deco style and the exhibition concludes with a plate by Clarice Cliff to commemorate Frank Brangwyn's ill-fated House of Lords murals. The exhibition continues until 17 February. Take a magnifying glass.

On the way out I popped into a room containing six (out of a possible seven) pictures of St Sebastian by Guido Reni. It was spot the difference with four of them almost identical (one from a place called Ponce in New Zealand) and another pair similarly similar. Two compositions; six paintings! Remarkable. Apparently if your name is Sebastian you can get in free. The cafe was a bit full of old ladies, so I got on my bike to explore Dulwich Village and a splendid Victorian pub The Crown and Greyhound. I entered through the billiard room (alas with no billiard table) and ordered a lunchtime special of soup (brocolli and stilton) and half a sandwich (crayfish) with a pint of Harvey's. Then it was back to West Dulwich, and all those steps up to the platform, back to Victoria, and again a fast train to Brighton just before the rush hour. Final test for the Halfway was shopping, where the 4-for-3 offer on the beer at Sainsbury's put the 10kg limit of the pannier carrier to the test! Luckily it was downhill all the way home. Will have to sort out some smaller panniers that don't catch on the back wheel!

Touch Me Pipes

Thanks to Adrian Chiles and an item on The One Show about strange British place names (yes, Ramsbottom is one of them), I've discovered that Touch Me Pipes is a small 'tenement' near Trevithian, in Cornwall. The name is an 18th century Cornish expression for 'to rest awhile'. It's on the Lizard peninsula, near St Keverne. Not seen it on a map yet!

Tunbridge Wells

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The No. 29, from vibrant metrosexual Brighton to genteel Royal Tunbridge Wells, must be one of the great bus journeys of Britain, wending its way via Lewes (past Harvey's brewery) and Uckfield though the spectacular South Downs and leafy Weald. The occasion was a rare gig by David Devant and his Spirit Wife at the Forum, a former (very grand) toilet on the edge of the common. I alighted at the Pantiles and after checking in at The Swan Hotel, a tavern I can heartily recommend, £60 a night via Late Rooms. [Foz? complained later that his 'boutique' hotel had no tea-making facilities or trouser press, and breakfast comprised dry foreign bread, salami and cheese!]. After a quick visit to the friendly tourist office to get a map, I met up with Peter Chrisp on the High Street and after a visit to a second-hand book shop, where he purchased a copy of Cuban Pete sheet music (with uke chords!) we had coffee in Blends (where the proprietor was the spitting image of Nigel Havers), thence to the Duke of York for a pint or two of Harvey's. Supper proved difficult to find - we were turned away from Pizza Express and Zizzi, but found refuge in an Italian tapas bar called Soprano, where we overordered and observed the pink-wigged hen party opposite! So, stuffed, it was on to the Forum where we caught the end of a set by locals Mr Tom Williams and the Boat, featuring a lady violinist (anyone remember Curved Air?) and harmonica. Then it was the band we came to see. The boys launched straight into 'Cookie' (I think) and powered through a blistering set, Mikey in half glittery costume and cape, Foz? in a monkey suit (I thought he was a teddy bear a la Mark Wallinger until the head made an appearance during the encore, during which he played Mikey's pink uke). Despite being their first gig since the 100 Club, everyone was on top form, and it was a great set. Apparently the band had torn up Mikey's setlist and substituted their own, much to The Vessel's delight. The Forum was full, but very few old faces - Mr Peekaboo was Mr Solo from Brum, and he videod the whole thing on his new gadget. Dai Laffin was there too with a large contingent, and I met a couple from Shoreham.

Next morning, after a hearty breakfast of Alpen (too sweet!), toast, tea and 2 eggs, baked beans, mushrooms and tomato, we met up with Foz? and took the 29 to Isfield where we had 2 hours before the next bus to play on the Lavender Line. Lady Angela, a Peckett Class R2 0-4-0 saddle tank No. 1690 originally from the Gypsum Mines in Nottinghamshire, was waiting in the station, so we jumped into the open-air truck to ride the mile or so to the end of the line and back. We stopped a couple of times on the way back for a photographer to take snaps for next year's brochure - hope we'll be in it! After larking about in the signal box, we had a pint of Old Hookey in the Laughing Fish and jumped back onto the 29 for the ride home.

Bluebell setback

From the Argus.

St Trinian's locos

Watching The Great St Trinian's Train Robbery (1966) on TV the other day it made me wonder how many films contain footage of steam locos and whether these have been documented on the web. For the record, the loco Frankie Howard's robbers were driving was LNER 0-6-0T J50/3 class 68961, introduced 1926, and the one the girls pursued in was a J94 'bucket' saddle tank 68011. The J50s are absent from my 1964 Ian Allen combined volume, so I assume they must have been scrapped by then and the film made with one of the very last as none were preserved. It was too dark to catch the loco being robbed right at the start of the film. Although these are LNER locos, the location was Longmoor military railway, Longmoor Military Camp, Hampshire, also the location for The Lady Vanishes (1938), The Challenge (1960), and Runaway Railway (1965). The new St Trinian's film has had awful reviews, but from the trailers, head girl Gemma Arterton looks utterly gorgeous.

Billy Blake

William Blake is one of the few poets I love. To celebrate his 250th birthday, I'd like to share one of my favourite poems of his from the Rossetti Ms - I made this into a cartoon for the first issue of the Guildford Arts Lab poetry mag Glad Day, but I'm having trouble locating it! I asked a thief to steal me a peach: He turned up his eyes. I ask'd a lithe lady to lie her down: Holy and meek, she cries. As soon as I went An Angel came: He wink'd at the thief, And smil'd at the dame; And without one word [said]* Had a peach from the tree, [And still as a maid]** Enjoy'd the lady. 1st reading deleted * spoke ** And twixt earnest and joke

St Michael's church

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Originally uploaded by fred pipes.

A dramatic incident! Whilst visiting some Xmas Open Houses I heard that the roof of St Michael's church, famous for its William Morris, Ford Maddox Brown and Edward Burne-Jones stained glass windows, had blown off in the wind. On arriving I saw that a panel of lead had fallen off the bell steeple and had caused some iron guttering to fall through the roof of the side chapel. The fire brigade were making it safe. I managed to visit today: 6 Clifton Street where I had a glass of glögg and a piece of gingerbread, and bought some Country singer xmas decorations by Peter Chrisp and Lisa Wolfe (the Dolly Parton had sold out); The (Kim) Glass House, where I had a cup of tea and a mince pie and bought a linocut card; 15 Chanctonbury Road where i bought neither food not articles; 13 Granville Road, where I bought an artists' book about Beer by Joe Mclaren; and finally The Dragonfly House, where I had a glass of red wine and bought a Sarah Bidwell lavender bag. I'm ashamed to say I didn't go on the Clarion bike ride today!

Rusty's Round-up

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Originally uploaded by fred pipes.

What a brilliant idea - to recreate a Western radio show at the recently redecorated and de-privatised club The Hanbury Ballroom. Rusty's Round-up was built around a fab house band comprising: Andy Roberts (with a very authentic accent) on geetar; Nick Pynn on fiddle; BJ Cole on pedal steel guitar; Graeme Ross on dog-house bass and Debbie Tyndall, backing vocal. There were also guest appearances from Sleepy Ed Hicks (comedy clawhammer banjo), Debbie Doright, and, the star of the show, youngster Elvin Priestley (played by Suspiciously Elvis). Flame-haired Rusty looked gorgeous on the door and the whole thing was masterminded by Laurie Hilton-Ash. I arrived excited and early and sat down at a table (like we did at the Howe Gelb gig) with the nearest thing to beer they sell there - Tetleys! - to be told I couldn't sit down cos I hadn't booked a meal. So, I was decamped to a bar stool and the place began to fill up with noisy diners (plus the odd cowboy and cowgal), a shame cos you couldn't really hear the spoken parts of the show. The recording over and off air, the evening was rounded off by a set by the excellent Jailbait rocking the joint. Wonder what the well-heeled diners thought of it! Note to self: must get a cowboy hat (and shirt).

Joy Division

I was sitting in the Duke of York's last night watching the documentary Joy Division (which should really have been called Ian Curtis) when I wondered why I wasn't watching it at home on the telly. Don't get me wrong, I did enjoy it, but it was mainly talking heads (no Debbie, but Annik was in it and I'd been wondering what she looked like), some rough footage from Super8, and bits of artiness from posh southerner director Grant Gee aiming to make nearly-80s Manchester look like a 1950s Alphaville. We all know it's grim Up North, but it wasn't as bad as all those B&W photos in the snow made it out to be! I was amused however by Hooky's story about Billy Burroughs telling Curtis to 'Fuck off, kid' when he demanded the free book he thought he was entitled to, at Plan K in Brussels. I was at the cinema of course for the Q&A with the director. What did he think of Control (funny how everyone calls it Closer)? He hadn't seen it, far too busy, but will probably get it out on DVD... What did Jon Savage actually write as credited writer? Not actually very much, apparently, but he did give them access to his address book. Is there anything else to be said about Joy Division? Ian Curtis's notebooks are the next big thing. See what Guardian readers thought about it.