Saturday, 27 September 2008
New animations in Fight Face by Sophie Woolley
Sample of animated projections I designed for Fight Face by Sophie Woolley & directed by Gemma Fairlie - it's running at the Lyric Hammersmith until October 4th - it's a great show
See Guardian review here...
http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/theatreblog/2008/sep/26/theatre.captions.fight.face
Guardian All Ears 27th September
Monks, cheese, stupid little Paris Hilton dogs, generously proportioned women & '90s 'Gregorian chants 'n'beats' act Enigma - what more can one want?
There's nothing like a crisis for bringing folk together and the recent closure of the Channel Tunnel forced a collision of characters that saw me sharing a waiting room with some American travelers swapping stories about where they'd been.
Woman 1: "We went to a monastery-beautiful-you could sense the spirituality of the place."
Man 1: "It was tangible, like you could I actually feel it."
Woman 1: " I mean I haven't been to church since my mother passed but I, I don't know what but I went in and I lit a candle and I got down on my knees and I prayed."
There was much nodding at this, but greater revelations were to follow.
Woman 1: "But (+i)then(-i) the monks came into the chapel and started praying, it was like nothing you have ever heard…"
Man 2: "Gregorian?"
Man 1 "I'm not sure if they were strictly Gregorian but…"
Woman 1: "The most beautiful sound, I went up and said you have to have this on CD, but they had no idea. Other than this cheese they make they have no commercial sense whatever, they are on a completely spiritual plane, but I just had to have this music, this was such a special time for me
Woman 2: "Oh, completely. I mean I completely understand, without having been there…"
Woman 1: "We bought some of the cheese instead. You have to go there."
Woman 2: "How was the cheese?"
Woman 1: "Kind of dry, actually. We threw most of it away."
Article by Michael Holden
Labels:
american tourist,
cheese,
monks,
steve may,
the Guardian
Saturday, 20 September 2008
Guardian All Ears 20th September
Aah! That's better - at least I got a correct credit this week - might even get a free sub...perhaps not! Bah!
I was eating lunch outside a sandwich shop when a woman walking passed and exchanged saccharine greetings with the woman opposite me who was working her way through a sandwich half the size of her head.
Woman 1: "Alright treacle?"
Woman 2 : "Alright Sugar?"
Woman 1: "That looks like quite a big lunch."
Woman 2: (proudly) "It is. I need it. I'm gonna have a drink tonight, drink some alcohol, a bit more than usual."
Woman 1: (somehow impressed) "That sounds like a plan!"
Woman 2 :"You better believe it."
Woman 1 "Where you goin', round here?"
Woman 2 "Yeah, round the corner."
Woman 1 "Happy hour?"
Woman 2 "More like happy ever after, you know what I mean?"
Woman 1 (not looking like she'd understood at all) "Yeah. "
Woman 2 "You should come."
Woman 1 "Who's going."
Woman 2 "Everyone from work and the office. It's a leaving do. That's how come I can get away with getting hammered."
Woman 1 "Who has a leaving do on a Monday?"
Woman 2" I dunno."
Woman 1 "You don't the person?"
Woman 2 "No I know the person but I don't know why they're leaving on a Monday."
Woman 1 "Why are they leaving?"
Woman 2 "They sacked her really, she is thick innit."
Woman 1 (as though the lowering of the intellectual stakes had made everything seem more appealing) "Maybe I will come. "
Woman 2 "Text me. "
Woman 1 "Nice."
Article by Michael Holden
Saturday, 13 September 2008
Guardian All Ears 13th September
Despite the blessed sub editors at the Grauniad crediting this to somebody else FOR THE SECOND WEEK RUNNING(!) I enjoyed the chance to draw bears, alcohol, facetious t-shirt slogans & very low slung trousers whilst simultaneously indicating my general disdain at camping in general...article follows...
One of the meagre perks of eavesdropping is that it can clue you in to worlds you might otherwise know nothing about. In this case modern festival culture, where it seems everyone gets a lift home from their parents. Years ago it would be several days before you could have faced (+I)anyone’s(-I) parents, especially your own. Still, listening to the man across from me on the train it was apparent that some aspects of generational division are alive and well.
Man 1 “My daughter went down to the Reading Festival, so I had to drive down there to pick her up.”
Man 2 “She had a good time?”
Man 1 “So she said.”
Man 2 “Did she have ‘bare alcohol?’”
Man1 “What’s ‘bear alcohol’?”
Man 2 “No, it’s ‘(+I)bare(-I) alcohol,’ it’s what they say instead of ‘a lot’.
Man 1 “I’d bought her a tent.”
Man 2 “Did she set it on fire? I hear that’s the thing to do these days, burn your tent.”
Man 1” No, well from what I gather she didn’t use it, she certainly didn’t bring it back with her.”
Man 2 Well they ask you to hand them in now, if you don’t want them. They recycle them, send them off to the Sudan, or one of those places.”
Man 1 “Well she said she didn’t use it. I suppose she must have stayed in someone else’s.”
Man 2 “Last time I went to one of those things someone kicked me out of a tent in the middle of the night, I was sure it was mine.”
Man 1 “Well, like I say, she must have stayed in someone else’s. She certainly made a lot of friends, she had three lads with her, I ended up giving them a lift too.”
Now are you being naïve or am I being cynical about what might have happened there, I wondered. I guess the truth, like her tent, is out there somewhere.
Article by Michael Holden
Wednesday, 10 September 2008
Sunday, 7 September 2008
Guardian All Ears 6th September
Bloody paper credited this to someone else this week - sandle wearing bastards!
Midsummer, midweek, mid-afternoon and bad weather proved no obstacles to the group of women with whom I shared a smoking area outside a pub on the edge of a park in Humberside. Their alfresco healthcare debate was evidently not a forum that could be curtailed by drizzle, commitments and ignorance, or any combination thereof.
Woman 1: (righteous, animated, slightly outraged) “She asked me to save her half of my cig, I said ‘I ain’t doing that, you’re on medication.’ She says, ‘Not anymore!’ I said well what were them tablets I see you taking?”
Woman 2: (anxious for an outcome, partly because she seemed desperate to say something judgemental) “So what did she say?”
Woman 1: “ She said, ‘don’t worry about those, them’s me medication ‘cos I am a nymphomaniac!’”
Women 2 & 3: (In unison) “No!”
Woman: 1 “I swear.”
Woman 2: “What’s she on about, nymphomania tablets?”
Woman 3: “She’ll be making all that up. You don’t wanna believe a word out of her. She wants truth drugs, never mind bloody sex pills.”
Woman 1 “Yeah but she had them tablets, those tablets that they give you when they’re not real tablets, what are they called?”
Woman 3 (definitely not joking) “Gazebos?”
Woman 1 “That’s them!”
Woman 2 “I don’t care what you call it, it’s just an excuse for being a slag.”
And having reached a verdict they crushed out their cigarettes beneath their feet and went back inside.
Article by Michael Holden
Monday, 1 September 2008
Guardian All Ears 30th August
Had a Japan based break last week so no illo in last week's Guardian - this one was quite apt due to my own fading jet-lag but I only really like the sinister pigeons in this one!
Eating a slice of pizza by a boating lake my attention was drawn from the flock of aggressive birds gathered about me in expectation of leftovers toward a man sitting behind me, persistently describing his jet lag on his mobile phone.
Man "Yeah, we just got in from Bali, this morning. Got upgraded... business class. Yeah, pretty decent sleep, but still...yeah. Well it's ten PM Bali time so...we might head home for a nap. But, yeah, see you Monday, thanks.
These days I strive not to make negative assumptions about people based on snatches of conversation, so I let this one go. Five minutes later though he said almost the same thing again to someone else, and then there was nothing I could do to stop myself.
Man "Yeah, well we've been in Bali, got in this morning. Swung an upgrade, to business class. Must have got about seven hours sleep, so, can't complain. Well it's what...ten past ten at night Bali time so...yeah, well, we're gonna try and stay awake."
Now I had to turn to look at him. He was like a malign remix of Nigel Havers. His wife just stared into the middle distance as he droned on.
Man " Well it's great that you're in London and we made it back in time to see you. If you wanna do something touristy then let us know, because we never get to do stuff like that. House of Commons? Absolutely, I think there's a tour...well it looks great from the outside...I'd like to turn it into apartments, no, better than that, a pub! A pub for me and my friends!"
I wondered what time it was in Bali.
Man "It's twenty past ten in Bali, so...yeah, absolutely. Let's speak tomorrow."
Article by Michael Holden
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