down by the water front

Benvenuti Al Sud

 

Welcome To The South

 

 

Film Festivities have been in abundance all around the globe, not least the current BFI in London. But one film which has just been released, and as far as I can tell has not heralded any actual awards, is selling tickets hand over fist; the Italian film Benvenuti Al Sud.......more importantly the storyline of which was destined to strike a chord, I think, with many......

 

I have a trip in the offing (well early next year) and was exploring the idea of taking the train with a couple of friends. This is to a village in Southern Spain and, as my friends are from the area known as Southern Spain they were keen to join in. But the actual conversation we had was more on the lines of me trying to describe and then pulling out a map of exactly where it was I was about to go – they being from the city of Seville which is further south than the village I am visiting so the familiarity was vague. Even my attempt to define the area by province (Almeria) met with Oh yes! then blank faces with any subsequent detail. The description east of Granada and south east of Madrid and directly south of Murcia would have probably created a clearer understanding. Phew!.

View Larger Map

 

With Spain being a relatively big country and fitting into the polemics of north and south in a sort of skewed way on the map - this was always going to be difficult to determine by compass based reference. And, also like many European countries that has had its fair share of *border crossings of the invasion kind* not to mention the added autonomous provinces and regions that define and line the Spanish psyche - was also going to add extra detail into the mix.

No different in principle to any other country’s regions really, but in the interest of clarity:

So, there is Cataluña in the north headed by Barcelona and all things Barcelonan – north of that Girona with Port Bou at its uppermost, which is in many ways more French than some towns over the border. The Basque region, Pays de Vasco and Navarra in the north west enclaves, and proud too, with the Basque area seeking complete autonomy. Cantabria, Asturias and Galicia in the north and west on the pacific coast and then to the south of Extremadura, Andalucía. Which never fails to astonish me wherever I am that this only has bearing on how far south of north you are at any given time for you to be deemed in the south. With due respect to my friend's confusion and my non-map-reading-skills the village I am going to is not that well known unless familiar with the smaller area of Almeria and the fact there are a LOT of villages in Spain.

So when the location was finally understood, they went on to explain how, because of transport they tend to route north through Madrid or out to Galicia (for hols, University etc) and that even a few kilometres further north east their accents are misunderstood – hence them also having difficulty with my broken and heavy I-picked-up-an-accent-on-the-way Spanish. Seville people are used, they said, to the Spanish making fun of their accent.

Seville in the south

On the stereotype list Bea said it equated with country yokels, the uneducated and unrefined, a sort of rival snobbery that I admit I have also seen broken down into miniscule territorial discussions on most of my visits to the mainland.

No different to the UK really, for example Nottingham is still getting stick from Sheffield about Robin Hood’s origins or is that the other way round? either way anything north of London still seems to be the backwater of the UK. And all points in between up for rivalry akin to what can only be described in terms of *football team status*; mini bickering when it suits, usually trumpeted by the local paper.

Mojacar and the Valley of The Pyramids (and Rio Aguas) 

The village I am visiting has a neighbouring fishing village and is separated by the Rio Aguas (which is spectacularly famous for being san aguas as the area is officially semi-desert). But the Rio is The Line by which the two villages define themselves. The local Mexican Cantina describes itself as having The Best Food This Side of The Rio Aguas – a bit of a play on ‘Ol Mexico themes there but the *difference* does exist to play that card. The accents are fairly thick (ie; leaving the French tinged Cataluñan and getting progressively thicker and more guttural the further south you go), and the villagers seem to add extra ummpf in emphasis when mentioning the other village; sort of spat out in an almost guttural sounding dismissal. Of course they are not out and out rivals but the local politicians don’t half get some stick from the other’s village.

I totally got what Bea and her friend were saying about their accent acceptance – and the typical Sevillian  - which they dismissed with so much *as if we care* we have pride in our city and our accents. Possibly with the subtext of poncy northern snobs etc., etc.,..

So I was pleased to see the storyline for the film Benvenuti Al Sud (Welcome to The South) which was released in Italy this month, pleased, not least because it’s a comedy. It follows on, and unashamedly copies from the French film Bienvenue chez les Ch'tis (Welcome to The Sticks ) of two years ago. This time with a northerner having to leave all things known-and-used-to and venture into the unknown South, complete with weird country rituals, odd food, eating habits, and general not-like-us-ness. And all the comic farcical stuff that I imagine could be reaped from that.

Apparently the Box Office has gone bonkers and the tickets have over sold Inception and all the major players in Italian cinema at the moment – a bit like the original French home-grown self parodying hit Les Visiteurs in 1993 ; the one when Jean Reno is a medieval knight and time travels into the future, and aside from the hilarious newfangled-ness of culture is shocked to find French gentry having *normal* jobs and no servants. Full of stuff the French psyche has had in bucket loads. A bit like, I suppose, the touristy view of the UK seen as tea shops (well actually they are literally springing up like a rash at the mo) but the Royal stuff, the red phone boxes and all those quaint things that you only find in episodes of Midsomer Murders or Hugh Grant films.

 

 

A typical idylic scene used in Midsomer Murders
 

 

 

I like the idea that fun can be got from this and that it has country-wide appeal (well Southern Italy is beautiful from a screen location point of view) I suppose the Nottingham/Sheffield equivalent would have to be a bit more ummm gritty, rainy and, well, Mike Leigh – in fact he’s probably already done one; but you’d probably only get the joke if a) you were from the north and b) steeped in gritty rainyness....Anyway.....

   
Benvenuti Al Sud Trailer

 

I speak more Spanish than Italian (I get a bit confused between the two cos I’m still learning) but I sort of get the idea that the central character who lives in Lombardy dreams of being a wealthy Milano film director and tries desperately to get transferred there through work. But the wanna-be-Milano gets transferred from Lombardy to Napoli - Castellabate in the south instead. And looking at the trailer does he eventually rescue the day by splashing a few denaro’s around? ummmm rich northerner being benevolent to the southerners he has just now befriended? nope I won’t be cynical it looks a pretty funny film.....and will have to wait as usual – why is the UK so slow with release dates for European film?

 
Anyway this kind of all-round-appeal-funny parody is refreshing.  And without the *heavy* politics surrounding the divides of rich and poor (one of the irritants for these type of stigmas me thinks) it covers most bases on the difference scale. And Italy certainly has that; I think a reference was made to the fact that because the film is so successful it shows that Italians can overcome things like Northern League separatism. And sure, that phenomenon is no less introverted in most countries rich-poor areas wherever you go.

I just like the idea of difference being out-in-the-fresh-air-open to jokes and laughter. Being embraced rather than force fed an idea of unity from a political to do list (not that the truer idea of unity ever gets a fair airing from those quarters either).

 
And so I plan to visit Deep Southern Spain (if you are south of Murcia that is), and after the New Year, so hopefully will be around for the Moro’s y Cristiano’s festival which is nestled into the rich calendar of all things festive.
The last one I watched, after the formal day out, best-dressed-for-church bit was out of the way, was destined for a wee bit of bias on the side of the Moors along with some adaptational tweaking on the side of the Christians;  as most of the boys had opted to be a Moor – ‘cos they had cooler costumes and massive swords – ahhhh you can’t beat a bit of reverse psychological rivalry!. 

 

 

I know this is 10 mins but it sort of gives the idea of the whole involvement thing - Mojacar 2009

 

 

 

 

And back next Thursday 28th with some enigma! shhhhhhhh!

 

Bling Me Good

 

 

 

I am all set I’m going to the flicks next weekend to see the NEW Sex And The City film.......I know!, but somehow it just seems right, like the Burger King you knew you would eventually succumb to even though it ticked all the relatively *wrong* boxes on the ethics front.

 

Do I really need to say who they are?........

 

(Ok I’m standing here alcy anonymous style and saying) Hello... my name’s Debbie and I am talking about the new SATC film – there I said it – and we don’t even need the full descriptive title, the abbreviated one is imprinted in our brains (well most of us).

 

What TF is it about that series and its films?. I admit too, that I succumbed to the TV series with the same sort of oh-so-wrong Burger King moment; a lot of looking forward to and then wondering what it was all about when the satient feeling began to wear off as soon as the credits rolled. But the anticipation was always there bringing me back for more (SATC that is not BK).

 

 

My daughter bought me the DVD of film no.1 as well. I know this makes me sound like an addict in denial but really I do know it’s just a bit of superfluous-fun-lite film down time.

 

 

So why can’t I leave it there? – because I think maybe there has been something in the whole phenomena of these four gals from NY and their soul bearing stories, that actually documents a shift it may not have done *feminism* as feminists would like to see it. And it didn’t do having-it-all women in the negative nor indeed the positive either.

Miranda

More a fantastical reality. No matter how much you empathised with, or envied Miranda and her job and subsequent baby and lifestyle juggling, hiring the housemaid was pure fantasy in most people’s world.

Carrie

Carrie’s journo –blog job which managed to bring in enough dosh to buy half of Harvey Nic's and Knightsbridge (if indeed she had lived London) was a fantasy that every working girl would love to have lived, writer or not - and probably especially if a writer.

 

 

Samantha doing her thing

Samantha’s expressive love life at 40+ was stuff of dreams (if that’s what floats your boat,  which for a lot of 40++ something’s it very probably is!) not a great deal of actual s-e-x on the screen but the sheer filmic anticipation was enough to trigger that après-satient moment.

 

 

Sweet Charlotte

All that and enjoying the playoffs between them and things like Charlotte’s prissy demise into Harrry’s arms, was just a squirmingly funny delight.

 

 

If the mixture was a cake it would have made it onto a Michelin starred Sweet Trolley (bit of an oxymoron kitchism there) but that is exactly how it came over!. All fluff and sassy to boot.

 

And it did, however fantastically and with fantastic locations, mirror what was happening – whether we liked it or not. Almost as spectacularly, ending with the film arriving just as the crisis hit everyone’s jobs and pockets ’08.

 

Samantha (Kim Cattrall ) has recently started work back in the UK in a new theatre production and was quoted saying in the Observer recently, despite her highly preened, coifed and buffed bod......  "I really don't think there's ever been a character like this before," she has said. "Well, there has been. But there's never been a woman who hasn't paid a terrible price for being free."

She has been in theatre in tandem with SATC for a while now and also appeared in amongst other productions Whose Life is it Anyway, about four years ago.

 

 

There is, I think, a parallel here......

 

The Carrie Bradshaw’s of this world certainly don’t have it any more easy these days even though the internet has opened up scope for writers. And if the statistics for Media studies degree courses are anything to go by there is no shortage of potential writers being churned out onto the jobs market as were art students a few years back.

Carrie at her Mac

Before her heady days of writing for Vogue and Book launches (nope I'm not jealous - really)

And here's an article in the Huffington Post by New York writer and poet Caroline Hagood who’s work style is perhaps a bit more akin to the Carrie character.

 

 

 

 

Whatever becomes popular as an aspirational choice I guess. Art students got wised up with the advent of ‘80’s and more importantly ‘90’s art with its young and famous types (money is in there somewhere). Just as the media has thrown up a plethora of journo’s chasing celebrity and sub-celebrity culture; this being a vital money spinner in regular news threatened, gossipy – internet times. The basis being a move from news reporting and pandering to the punter anything with a celebrity style slant of tidbit gossip revenue.

And Not necessarily with the writers remunerated. It’s a glamorous life; whoops I didn’t notice the paycheck-lite moment.

 

A shift though may be taking place, for writers actually being able to afford some of the Bradshaw shoe fetish (rather than being paid a pittance). As it seems we really do need news to be reported in these times rather than the diet of superfluous fluffy bits that had been increasingly adopted by a scared, internet threatened media.

 

This must be good news for good writers, with the climate of late having its freelance job websites adding insult to injury by requiring the work upfront – you and 50 or -60 others all competing for the whim of the client. That is a lot of time spent chasing a maybe lottery win of not much. Ok for students while studying but hardly the stuff of a further career. And ok it is no different than job interviews, statistics wise. But that idea was evolving into a permanent state for jobless writers.

 

The internet has proven to break up the old school thinking about writing and reporting. Also though the bottoming out of create more of what-they-want-content and now a space is opening up for writers to take a more active role in the content they create. A morphing of writing style if you like to include the writer’s thoughts as taken a stage further from dry reporting.

 

 

So I will be along for the SATC ride and indulge in whatever fantastical realms Michael Patrick King puts those ladies in this time, but you never know Samantha and Carrie may have just a bit more on their expensive collective sleeves than the odd broken, fantasy fuelled heart .......or maybe not !

 

I’m sold again either way!....

Sounds good!

 

 

 

 

 

NB;

The Broadway Cinema where I intend to plonk myself to watch this has a special night to indulge your Carrie fantasies and to dress appropo, the ticket comes complete with cocktails..... but is sadly sold out.

In hind sight though I probably would have had difficulty finding anything approaching the fashion- de-SATC required, come to think of it most of the people who frequent the Broadway would have similar Art House Cinema haven’t-got-a-thing-to-wear crisis, unless of course trying the fancy dress approach.

 

 

Now here is a link to some photos of the EFNY exhibition that started this week, more will be on the way I believe both on C-MONSTER.net and Art Fag City

Man Bartlett also has a tandem thing going on with his monthly prints... check them out and his really cool film of art in progress.........

 

 

 

And an afterthought on The Great Art Heist ; tricky one this, ok I’m not over keen on the actual paintings that were taken; could take them or leave them – pardon the pun. But how to offload them? – poor sods.

 

Ransom?   Urrrmmm....   I know!!   Problem with a high profile hand over?....could always use PayPal... simples!

 

 

 

Back on Wednesday!

 

 



 

All Aboard The Kitsch Train

 

 

I was running late today (ok, that should probably be my middle name) – but it was one of those days when you try and organise, and everything goes wappy, from slow-go technical blips, to phone calls from people wanting a chat. Eventually even the weather was conspiring against me!.

 

 

It all came to a head when I had finally clambered over most of these obstacles and presented myself at the door, work done and dusted with my reward of a walk to the gym and a good work out ahead of me. And then the BIG HUGENESS OF A BLACK CLOUD that had been squished up hiding behind a tree noticed me, and went Ah Ha!, venting out all its strength of rain-ness (I think the term is torrential) rendering me a jibbering heap back on the door step, and the gym was due to close early and I hadn’t factored in rain-waiting time.

 

 

I stood and stood, seeing the clearer skies in the distance and trying to guess how long this would take to pass. As I waited I began to feel less wronged and started to smell the clean air and see the blossom and all the fresh new green things coming back to life with the rainfest.

 

 

I know people have said this time and time again, but I found something very contemplative in taking in all the sensory things going on around me, the sort of things people go out of town on longs walk for, a momentary appreciation of other stuff going on around you.

 

 

Amongst the busyness of my topsy-turvy day I had also been thinking about an exhibition opening this week at Dover Street’s Robilant & Voena Gallery by David LaChapelle – well it was more a comment he made in a press release than the actual exhibition itself, which is aiming to highlight Earth Day along with other off-shoots from the artist, all raising funds for the Rainforest Alliance. All good charitable stuff.

 

I sort of knew of him already – as being a video, music and promotional film maker – always doing interesting things – shocking sometimes, but always noticeable and noticeably his style. His art similar, with titles like Jesus is My Homeboy and slick airbrushed CG imagery verging on garishly shocking colours, juxtaposed with stylish nudes, animals and religious iconography as one of his more obvious trademarks.

 

I had been seeing more and more of his art of late, and although from a personal point of view I am never going to be a big fan of his stuff particularly, I do see the meaning (or my take on it anyway). Whether you think it’s art, or like it or not, he is good at what he does.

 

And the main piece in this exhibition uses all that slickness to portray an Africa in distress, through a rendition of Botticelli’s Venus and Mars, showing the resting gods of Naomi Campbell and a male model surrounded by golden trinkets while ransacked destruction takes place. Good sentiments indeed.

 

I’d been busy like I said, so seeing the sound bite for this latest piece and then the main image of the work itself, I sort of semi-morphed an idea that this one had a bit TOO too much of the Kitschy-Koon’s about it, but you know call, me superficial maybe I hadn’t looked into it enough.

 

Really though it was the comment that was bugging me; Talking about the art establishment, saying “They get angry when you use pop imagery (the things that are accessible) to talk about anything other than the completely superficial” (he said) “And you know what? Let ‘em be angry....I’m into narrative and clarity. I’m not into obscurity. I’m not into people having to read and research – I’m just into the title, and the image, and the image being the language.”

It was then it clicked. The idea that narrative has to be obvious, telling it like it is, so beloved of kitsch, and not needing to know about past reference points in advance, at once seemed slightly oxymoronic for this piece.

 

 

I thought back to my nemesis rain moment and other times when I had been so taken with the moment, absorbed in works of art or film or whatever – when something sensory and beautiful had got to me – made me stop – made me think – made me rest from whatever my current preoccupation or task had been. A reprise.

 

One of these specifically had left me with such a vivid sense of absorption, I had to dig it out here, just to mull it over with LaChappelle’s press statement in mind. This wasn’t a name stopping famous work of art, nor on the celebrity circuit, it was a collaboration and involved dance, film and was presented as an installation;

I had been taking in discussions and Q&A doing the rounds at the Hay Festival, in Granada, on a mini break. And they had the foresight to present this art work alongside the book promos.

 

Noel Wallace of the English National Ballet, resident artist at the ICA now at The Greenwich Dance. one installation view

 

Apart from being held at the awe-inspiring Alhambra Palace which for starters was always going to be a jaw dropper, this installation called Tierra De Nadie (No Man’s Land) certainly stood its own ground within the historical tower it was assembled in; with it's thin slither of land that actually was no mans land.

I found myself sitting in the midst of this transfixed and at the same time moved to take in the information it was presenting, totally absorbed.

 

Tierra De Nadie, installation view

The Delfina Foundation website video (scroll down on their page)

 

This 4 -5min video shows three of the screens in the installation and although originally the soundtrack had, as I remember it all the physical sounds of footsteps and water etc., with some music – the overall music score was not included.

 

No obscure in-the-know-reference-points here either. A fairly minimal piece, of 5 screens with film footage that had been taken in the palace surrounds and reassembled in loops in a main tower.

 

Tierra De Nadie was steeped in the historical surroundings it was filmed in, but none of the imagery pulled in anything other than what you contemplated from it.

 

Last year saw the full-on Tate fest of POP LIFE, which, if you didn’t get to it, there’s a fair chance you would have seen some if not all of the exhibits at some point over the last 15 or so years, brimming with Hirst’s, Koon’s, Keith Haring’s and Gary Gross.  It bizarrely encapsulated an exaggerated time in artistic terms, some coining the term fast-art; one dimensional even if 3d. To many people that was just the tip of the whole entourage, as the exhibition had such a huge in-crowd of investors and benefactors, hedge fund and billionaire collectors, galleries and dealers, that it painted its own picture.

LaChapelle was also exhibiting the Africa work in NY and the Netherlands around the same time, I’m guessing the Earth Day gesture for London this May, was a timely value add.

 

 

Which, putting my Kitschy Koon’s assumptions, and the highly lauded LaChappelle videos aside. This particular piece is obviously researched and based on in-the-know-reference-points; you do really have to know some of the background historical context to take on the assembled montage - and if you don’t the rest is an obvious recipe for success - fast will do ; Naomi, a bit bare naked and with a title The Rape of Africa.

That should do it? Let ‘em be angry (the critics) – but I bet your bottom dollar they probably won’t be.

 

Oh! the kitschness – sorry – the irony of it all!

 

 

And if all that seems total arty b******s here is a rare treat I found on Utube which very succinctly explains most of the above : )

Absolutely Fabulous dhhaaarling...Eddy shops for Art

 

 

 

 

Wednesday’s post is cooking as you read......

 

 

First Impressions

First Impressions

 

 

 

They count, they really do!. We're really good at it, judging situations and people at a glance; science and psychology back it up.

 

When was the last time you walked down the road? or into a train station late at night and summed up your options in a bat of an eye? the safest bet, the nicest route, the dodgy looking encounter?. I know I do, apparently we judge situations from our experience and memories, believing we are right.

 

The old or the young woman?

This is what our minds do, we make assumptions and we then subsequently try and back those assumptions up so as to reinforce our confidence in making those split second judgements in the first place. If we second guessed ourselves we wouldn’t come close to that kind of accuracy. But then one argument suggests we should make the assumption, then ask questions to counter that and something in between would be about right.

 

Ok....so, in the split second it takes for me to clock the dodgy geezer coming toward me – I counter balance my dodgy assumption with a more balanced ; he might look dodgy – but he might also be having a bad hair day. So that the resulting encounter ends with an apologetic mugger demanding my hair gel?

Bloody hell I think I’ll just assume thanks! But our experiences are formed from so many things; prejudices, bad experiences and shock to overtly pleasant and equally biased ways of thinking.

To stop us all turning into mad reclusives or equally naive zombies, I guess we take in other people’s experiences to help form a wider judgment base.

Take that TV advert (think it was a police recruitment one highlighting awareness of reading situations), where a youth in a hoody is running through an estate, the camera flicks back and forth to an elderly lady looking in her bag. When I first saw it, my mind immediately thought the lady was about to be mugged or robbed  or already had been because she looked so distressed, but the lad ran up to her and handed her purse over (which she must have dropped) to her great relief.

 

I know I’ve had moments when I’ve been panicky and what I thought was a split second judgment had been biased by the fact I was panicky in the first place. A sort of double whammy adrenal response on my part! soooo not good for accuracy! – think it’s called over-reaction.

 

I’ve been on the receiving end of (obviously of what I think were) unfair assumptions, moments when someone looks down their nose at you and you think why? I’m really nice. Or assumptions because of gender or whatever, or that I looked like a single mum (even if I was!) but all the general prejudice and baggage that goes with that kind of assumption.

Stereo types.

This is why I love the arts and comedy and all that, for more often than not blowing away assumptions and stereo types, sometimes in a way we don’t even notice because it’s funny or been made “beautiful”. The contemplation or enjoyment of a situation from a different perspective.

 

So, the type of creativity that backs up stereo types and assumptions, especially comedy that seems to laugh at rather than with, is a precarious ground buster.

I am talking about un-pc jokes or creative observations here, not the blatant Bernard Manning put-down joke. The sort you know are kind of right but so aren’t, so taboo – who’s to say ? the person making the piece, the person finding the meaning in it, the person being offended?.

 

Take good old Madge’s (Sheila Reid) remarks in the TV sitcom set in the Spanish holiday resort of Benidorm; you sort of know from her general character as it’s chock-full of stereo types, like being from an older generation,that she’s constantly chain smoking, permanently tango-orange-tanned and all the while necking vodka’s. Sometimes she’s wheelchair bound (when it suits her), always being cringingly abrasive, and generally intolerant of the hotel staff, even being a ‘certain type’ of Northerner.

Guess Who?

That some or all of these traits would eventually lean toward a remark that would make her all the more stereotypically entrenched when she utters the words;

"I am not a racialist! We once had a black man living next door to us, and he was no bother at all!" prompting the response....
"Yeah, and he was still three shades lighter than you!"

 

Along with similar comments on meeting her estranged daughter’s Indian husband in the very expat-English environs of the hotel..... at once confirming this recognisable and abrasive character’s unvoiced sentiments.

 

She is not the devil incarnate because hopefully we recognise her – we understand the meaning of her character, even if we don’t agree – we get the wider joke, and the fact that she can’t spell by saying “racialist” can’t have been put in the script without purpose either. The general gist of her family are to at best put up with her, and at worst give as good as she gives back, and the rest of the cast have their own demons to deal with – far from perfect characters, but recognisable.

 

The cast of Benidorm

 

It’s comedy, a reflection of real life, but in real life this would not have been funny (personally I don’t think I would willingly go on a holiday with her character). Coming across Madge in real life after a brief chat would, if it were me, bring out my devil’s advocate side to argue the toss.

But isn’t the joke of the screenplay in showing the reasoning that surrounds Madge’s assumptions? or maybe it’s just about telling her to metaphorically sod off and sort out her bigotry, by her long suffering family and holiday pals.

 

We must have noticed sort of collectively that past stereo types (I haven’t got a date line here) and assumptions have moved and shifted, are no longer the case or are having resurgence. For example can you tell a person’s political persuasion from how they look?.

Even after a friendly chat, as with Madge’s remarks above, its only in the specific detail that someone’s complex character and with it possible right or liberal lefty type comments (or both) pepper the conversation to separate from a more homogenous sense of the assumption; I speak with you therefore you must be similar to me, because you sport an earring or a tattoo or drive a sports car, own a yacht etc.,

 

People are complex, stereo types are convenient boxes, and the one thing creativity can do is get creative with that, as the French would say; vive la difference! And so on and so on....

But on a dark deserted platform late at night and I clock Madge (bless her) coming toward me – I’ll make my own split second judgment on that one thank you! 

And if you haven't a clue what I'm on about or even if you do, here is a rare treat as Madge in all her glory meets her doppelganger ...

 

 

 

 

Back this Sunday including more thoughts on some things arising from Hashtag Class

Systems Lies and Statistics

 

 

Computers, circuits and chips have been around so long now that Mrs Beaton’s Book of Household Management probably had a page dedicated to them. I remember being slightly surprised (though I don’t know why in retrospect) that my mum on seeing our very first home pc back in 1986, mentioned she had worked with one of the first IBM machines briefly when in the department of statistics (it had another name but it escapes me) – basically a government employment department dealing with statistics around the 1940’s – a huge thing she said, that you put numbers in one end and... lo all sorted at the other.

 

 

Well I know that my son (now 20) has very much grown up with the smaller version of the things. Occupying more and more exalted prominence in the house, since he first managed to crawl and hoist himself up to post coins into the keyboard – bless –making a rattle out of it.

 

I can document the technological rise of computers to godliness stature in games; from his Super Mario track suit which was de rigour at age three, the game Doom taking Mario’s place, rapidly followed by things like Zelda, Unreal Tournament, Anarchy Online (3d), Half Life 2 and Team Fortress and things that probably haven’t been invented yet. I knew these as well as the names of all his cuddly toys and not so cuddly lego brick sculptures.

 

 

 

With always having computers around because of effectively working from home, we have had various stop- start blip moments with the hardware and software, as upgrades come and go. And it has to be said, if it ain’t broke don’t fix-it moments. We have grown with the technology, almost organically and absorbed its nuances by osmosis. To the point it is up there with cup of coffee in the morning switch the thing on; start work.

 

 

IBM was taking those baby steps all those pioneering years ago. These days IBM is not now as huge as Microsoft but you could argue it is from a different time. It has though evolved, from the founder  Thomas Watson’s very principled background into taking on environmental issues as part of its business strategy along with Open Source(well sort of); and not without difficulty. But as big business’s that started out 60 odd years ago they have, I think you can say, evolved.

 

Now that some sort of critical mass with technology has taken place and people are speculating and well basically wondering what the hell is going to happen next with the internet and technology, especially with social media, freedom of speech, content; written, artistic or whatever - and then there is the little question of getting paid.

I like to get paid for work – this blog doesn’t pay – yet - I’m in progress with it; you have to put the hours in and effort, as with anything.

So the lines seem to be fairly fuzzy about freedom of speech and content, people’s opinions and “quantifiable” knowledge. Freedom of speech is paramount as Catherine Bennett eloquently put it this week quoting Peter Tatchell, torch bearer of all things free speech and gay, about Shaun Holes's fine on his anti gay remarks "If I had known about this prosecution in advance, I would have gone to court to defend Mr Holes's right to freedom of expression,".

 

 

But something else is going down with the media industry, which has a lot of opinions not least on news and information. One of which has come up against a fine of sorts in the past couple of weeks from an Ofcom levelling of BskyB football screening fees. To the seeming antithesis of Mr Murdoch Snr introducing a paywall for Times on-Line.

 

Personally I think the argument expressed about BskyB being unfairly treated by Ofcom in the light of Sky having spent decades building up and investing in the technology to be a little rich – yes they did and I am sure they have got credit for it? but now is now, and maybe a fairer playing field is overdue? however much they don’t like the Ofcom persona. But content-pay- as-you- go kind of subscription – is possibly inevitable, and not just for the simple fact that a news-online media organisation is ensuring it is getting paid for content (however much you do or don’t like the news content).The principle is the same for everyone, so I do see some sort of remuneration process on its way (well it is already).But also from the point of view the internet is so much more statistically vibrant in finding which content works.

 

There are issues surrounding previous formats who did and still do invest in content and journalists who don’t reach the headline pages; but are catered for under the umbrella of the whole output. But in the mix things will surely shake down, lets hope with some social foresight along the same lines and not just the popular common denominator approach.

 

 

 

Freedom of speech, freedom to create and to be paid for content; people still want reliable sources of information and certainly react to and against fact mongering or manipulation so nothing new there. This is and has been for quite some time available for anyone to produce and anyone to digest.  So, remuneration for work, rather than just an opinion and “reputable” (established) publications now in the mix with all-and-sundry publications will have to swim with that.

 

Ironically looking at a News Corp that looks as though it is shooting itself in the foot in an attempt to protect “its land” (who knows?) does look like, at the very least, it is starting something rolling.

 

And in a month when ageing prog rockers get a judgment against EMI, not to split up their artistic content. Whichever way you look at the ‘why now when you have always been producing single entities from the piece?’ angle is an important step for artists to retain a modicum of control over what happens to their work if they feel the need to.

 

 

From this point on, as ever, we are still putting our money where our mouth is; let’s hope a fairer system of sharing that information and content also evolves.

 

 

 

One view of the democratic process and how that may equate with fairness, made me chuckle this week on seeing the trailer for the comedy series Outnumbered. It goes on the lines of something like this;

 

 

On the embankment opposite the houses of Parliament:

Daddy ?

Yes.........(to Karen)

Is that how the government gets in, and gets elected?

Is what how?....

Well....like when on tv when they say ‘and the lines are now open’ and then you’re left with only one and then they win...

Ahhh!! ....I think you may be confusing the Xfactor with democracy

(Karen)............I dont.....think so..........

 

 

 

Back with more shenanigans on Sunday......

 

 

Simple as That!

Simple as That

 

Nurse! screens please!

 

 

 

 

I think I missed out on some rare tv – I tend to record Newsnight during the week (I know I’m a Newsnight nerd, but that’s another story). As the recordings overlap a little I had been subjected to the very end shots of a newish programme on the bbc called Nurse Jackie – I say subjected because I was convinced, and at the same time baffled as to how and why such dross was being screened, are things really getting that bad at the beeb? Is there some kind of moral shift that I had completely missed ? a back to eighties style slushy-family-perfect drama, the type of which was only ever pre-empted by the Walton’s ?.... Just to make sure I watched the end of a couple of the following episodes which showed up before my serious Newsnight fix.

 

Hackles started to rise on my neck on seeing Jackie get all slushily chummy on her mobile talking about starting dance lessons with her daughter as she walked out of the hospital after a hard day at work with the camera zooming out onto a typical New York night scene complete with nostalgic music. Hackles suitably raised I snapped and googled the programme and found that actually the story line looked pretty interesting and then I remembered Jackie (Edie Falco) as Carmela from The Sopranos. So now curious beyond that of any self respecting cat I subsequently watched two episodes – episodes 10 and 11 at the end of the series ( I think that says I’m hooked).

 

 

 

 

I was kicking myself, it was good, it said everything to me about that *perfect family* that The Waltons oozed, sickly and false and the sort of never going to be perfect family that we would all love to be, but for the want of trying cos somehow it never comes together like that. The gaping chasm of difference between wanting the best for your family and the kinds of storylined propaganda? of how it should be.

 

I’d also noticed a wider redefining of women workers as mothers in the media lately, with increasing overall interest in children’s upbringing – the shift that has taken place over a few generations from family oriented advice to government and experts sending out more and more guidelines. New and improved knowledge is good, in seeking what is best for the child, but there seems an emerging message of purity of motherhood that could take women back decades from their choice to work and raise a family.

 

The kind of message that screams bad mother if anything falls short of it. Experts giving out a moral message that may be at odds with the mothers own perceptions and so to a degree the child also. This is not about what is not good policy for the child, but what is optimally best for, as seen by some.

 

Nurse Jackie is, she just is, a you, a me, maybe not all shooting pharms up our noses, but never-the -less, far from perfect. The pieces are snapped together with the storyline being made all the better for including the *Waltonesque* slushy moments (god that must irritate some people) because she is essentially good, very good in fact, she is a nurse no less, and even though she is flawed you can’t really call her bad. She is seen to be a perfectly functioning, well intentioned, glossy (in a gritty way) on the surface mum and nurse with human needs and flaws underneath.

 

This for me is comedy drama with all the dots joined up.

 

 

Shameful

Shameful

The countdown for the TV awards is here again and lots of media words are being written about the whys and wherefores of the various categories. I have long had my own, probably biased opinion that as soaps go Corrie has been the most credible, if only because of its desire to have a vein of humour running through it and just not because of outlandish climaxes or horrendous crimes. But that is my opinion I am a humour junkie; given the choice humour over horror any time; I’m a wuss and a sucker for a laugh.

But over the last few years I have been taken with the newer less old school era of Jack and Vera and although Corrie will always have a place for me, and although this is not a soap Shameless struck some vital chords.



I was slightly surprised to see one of the media dissections suggesting that Shameless and this type of gritty take on working class life is now sort of selling out into a condescending stereo type laugh at rather than laugh with programme, an accusation which has been used many times for various comedy characters on a certain side of the tracks and that kind of accusation shouldn’t be taken lightly. Sarfraz Manzoor pointing out in an article last Sunday in the Observer that some script writers were writing only from the perspective of rose tinted memories "we were poor but happy" and that a more comprehensive gritty look at modern society needs to be tackled in drama, well yes, things change, but isn’t that totally different from being condescending?.



Frank aka David Threlfall made a general remark about that idea as "bollocks you middle class journalists , if it was condescending , I’d know because people on the estates where we film Shameless would come and tell me".



Well I suppose so, if you are of a mind to walk up to a film crew and impart your take to The Famous Telly Programme People filming on your street, but yes I guess so. Shane Meadows said pretty much the same thing about filming in St Ann’s, in Nottingham for This is England a couple of years ago. I can get that, my daughter lives there albeit up from the town end and although she would love to leave her small one bed flat and settle in a house that she might have children in, her job as a young teacher does not fit the rent bill and so she stays. The social mix seems pretty similar to when I was living on a city centre estate in Derby in the 80’s, and the aspirations to leave similar. The all night drug buddy neighbour and his suped up car had not fully emerged at that time admittedly, and walking through the estate was not necessarily a routine avoidance after dark, but unemployment was not funny then and it is not funny now, different yes, but not funny.



So I am sort of the same mind here with Threlfall... just as Yozzer  ‘Boys From The Blackstuff’ never struck me as a happy character – he might have done things that resonated as funny against the absurd backdrop of 80’s mass (industrial) unemployment, but he never struck me as happy. Neither Jim Royle (Ricky Tomlinson) of the Royle Family or a whole wealth of working class characters spanning the 60’s 70’s 80’s and beyond; funny situations, lovable even but never through and through happy and poor.



For what it’s worth my own personal memories timed almost to the button with the screening of Boys From The Blackstuff and Auf Wiedersehen Pet, but boy did that help put it in perspective even more so because it was a comedy or black comedy drama. These episodes coincided with my marriage break-up and shortly after my ex being made redundant from Rolls Royce Aero Engines in Derby – he managed to find work at Lufthansa in Hannover and moved. I had a nearly- two year old child and relied on the ‘SS’ (social security) to pay my council rent and help with bills – the usual thing – not enough – but also no places then for the under 3-4’s  in public nurseries and the few private nurseries that were knocking about cost almost as much as I would be able to earn – I did work it out - I would have been down about £20-30 which is a lot when you’re on that level but was lot anyway in 1982-3. My mum helped me look after my daughter when she could, and friends were always round or I was round theirs while the children played.



It was rubbish I do remember not having enough food in the house, or only enough for my daughter and worrying about finding the money to pay the electric and heating, I tried to find a balance but I was relatively young – well very young actually and at age 24/5, despite this a smile was never far away, even though sometimes I felt very - well – sort of how can I change this, very frustrated, and alone.



The council house we had found as a couple in 1980 was on a city centre estate and it had its good and bad sides. After the start of the mass unemployment shift in 1981 there seemed to be a lot of people moving in and out of our block of maisonettes, a few were not far removed from the Shameless stereo types if you like; some people who couldn’t look after their dog, one who beat up his wife, another who was just – well  - lairy and a police special and his wife who were swingers, all of whom either weren’t or were good pals and neighbours.  Neighbours would help me with the pram to carry it up and down the stairs, which for the first few months after a caesarean section (and the c sec was because of emergency not lifestyle choice) was a real help. And so my life sort of unfurled as life does, where I lived, and I certainly can’t say I was happy, poor and divorced but I did have happy moments and memories.



I never felt because I lived on an inner city council estate, found myself on the Social and had some neighbours who could be more than a bit iffy that programmes like the Blackstuff or films like Saturday Night or any of that working class drama on TV and in the cinema was in any way condescending.  Maybe that was because I had not grown up on the estate, so could be described as an outsider; mum being an owner occupier buying into the idea of owning your own home in the late 50's  – but I don’t actually think so no more than any other neighbour; most had been placed by the council for different reasons and came from a widish range of backgrounds, including Mrs Pimm - who was definitely an old school council tenant - who probably - if asked about Yozzer and his pals would not have wanted her estate to be tarred with that brush, but like I say a mix of people.

And council houses for the generation brought up during WW2 meant a much needed home not a sink estate. The people of Manchester for example and many other cities who were bombed to the ground found in the post war years (and some parts of Manchester were still being cleared well into the 60's), that moving from private renting to council or corporation (county council) renting was a move from a bombed out shell or area to a new home. It was only in these years after, that buying your own home became an option. Not possible for a lot of people today.



I didn’t need to define myself because I lived on an estate or by that estate – I did need money for food and bills and I did relate to a lot of things that were on the TV up to recent programmes like Clocking Off. When young I had always liked the character of Terry Collier (James Bolam) in Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads. I got their characters and their attitudes to different situations. And to be quite honest if there hadn’t been a desperate Yozzer or a Margi Clarke’s uplifting gobby and funny Theresa in Letter To Brezhnev and subsequent programmes like Making Out to make me feel that what had happened personally around me at the time was something that had actually been acknowledged on screen by a writer, all I would have been left with was the view from politicians and newspapers who had their own agenda or seemed in denial. Whether I agreed with the factual content of these programmes was another matter – but the fact it had been recorded and it was not just me was definitely something to reaffirm with, when in reality I did sometimes feel like it was just me and alone could be a very powerful emotion.



Manzoor talked of "raw working class life" being more represented in home life scenes from shows like the X Factor's Stacey Solomon for example; while drama's tend to romanticise the picture "In fact, these people often want a massive house and to be famous. You don’t get so much of that we were poor but we were happy". Without wanting to miss represent Stacey Solomon her (life) story is still pretty unique; Performing Arts student, on TV even with the 15 minutes of fame allegedly attributed to everyone it is still a fairly unique rite of passage.



Well I can only talk from a personal perspective here but I also wanted a bigger house – or one that had a garden for my daughter, I was not poor and happy. I did make the best of, had a laugh and aspired to a lot of things. I did live on a city council estate which had a mix of types. I did not live on the early 80’s beginnings of the notorious estates in Manchester like Longsight, Moss Side or London’s Rotherhithe. I knew people on them and had walked on those streets and like St Ann’s and various areas in Nottingham’s city centre that fear of being caught up in something violent or difficult was and is there, but you have to get from a to b. No, that side of it is not something I relished, that’s why I wanted to leave, to see things change for the better.



But as far as saying TV like Shameless is not dealing with "hard hitting, socially relevant issues to inform the wider audience", is that not just as patronising?  where does one person’s reality start and another’s end? especially in comedy/drama. To suggest that authors of works dealing with class to be writing with a rose tint because they escaped – I don’t really get – writing about a different era because things have moved on – maybe, yes. I have a specific memory of a spate of someone putting lighted stuff through peoples letter boxes in our block – to take a typical thing like that and make something humorous of it takes skill, not rose tint.



However much TV and media is rebuked for creating an illusory society for not being real or out of touch, this kind of drama/black comedy affirms assurance, however stark, however funny – funny being one of the operative words because to be able to affirm, identify and laugh at a situation or character because of its otherwise bad press or depressing realness, was for me a very cognitive step and certainly not to be sniffed at.



After seeing a screening of Ayub Kahn Din’s East is East for Spanish adolescent students in Granada, one of the lecturers asked Kahn "why so many references to toilets?" (if you hadn’t seen it; outside lavs in 70’s Salford back to backs and the all important ‘po’ or potty kept under the bed for very cold nights ) which not surprisingly for a mainly adolescent audience provoked lots of sniggering – Auyb replied "because that was how it was!".



I don’t think the terms condescending-funny, rose tinted and rose tinted realism are the main issues here, the fact remains; things change and certain sections of society feel the brunt of that, and to be able to get some sort of reflection and perspective with humour helps, rather than Denial Utopia or True Shock Horror – recoil at your leisure with phobias type of offerings - which let’s face it when Shameless first came out, I don’t know about you but I would sometimes have difficulty in rationalising what I saw when I opened my front door with what was actually put on the TV or in the media. I think that’s what first got to me about Shameless  - I might not see Frank out and about on a daily basis especially as I had long since moved from the council estate, but I certainly got his character much more than the evil hoody gang fever that was being scare mongered as factual reality around that time.



So condescending class- isms aside, drama, comedy whatever it is that floats your boat has always, and always will hold up a mirror; it’s just whether the people passing comment on it see the reflection in quite the same light – maybe they have their own rose tinted version - as for Frank - well you'd have to ask him.

Vote Here; the lines are free

More of an Article this one.....

The definition of a joke is; 1 a statement made or short story told in order to cause amusement. 2 a trick played for fun. 3 informal a ridiculously inadequate or inappropriate thing.....

Jokes are funny otherwise they wouldn’t be a joke yes?, so the more people who laugh at a joke the more universal the theme. But what happens if you don’t get it, or find it unfunny – are you out on a limb?. The dodo of the audience?.

Are you expressing the belief that it is not funny because it resonates with something you recognise as personal or are connected to in some way?. Is a joke only funny if you relate to it with something you recognise as personal or are connected to in some way?. Or is it funny because your fears are being confronted in a thought provoking way – enough to make you laugh. Or is it funny because your fears are being distilled and clarified. Or because your thoughts are being made into a smaller more manageable sound bite that can then highlight something you don’t like or alternatively agree with.

I think it may be a whole combination of these - a joke has many sides – but two main ones – the laugh and the other one is usually the butt.  It’s a Human thing.

Aside from the evolution of humour and other creative areas– what with things going out of fashion, attitudes changing and stuff falling by the way side. What’s left is certainly mashed up and built on.

But when is a joke not a joke, when is it just dissing or plain rude? When does it cross that line? And when do the other lines of creative nuance get crossed; when is art, art - and when is it not?... music anyone?.

For example comedians work hard on the small venue circuits and fringe festivals testing there style of humour, some become very popular for a number of reasons but their humour is the thing that resonates with the crowd and proves or provokes a popular drift of thought. And I suppose like anything creative if you find a formula that works it is also tempting to stick with it and keep adding to it.

So when a formula gets overtaken by change the model becomes outdated and in turn returns to the fringe – in its faded glory - a safe haven to reinvent or fade completely.

This is a fairly simplistic version of creative process, and there are lots of different contributing factors which help keep certain genres in the lime light.

Patronage is one - from whatever source - it is usually because there is a political or astute business decision overriding. Look at the TV and media models in the US and here in the UK – Fox, Sky et al. Regardless of politics their bottom line is the business model of audience ratings which is then tinged or tainted - whichever your view - with a bent toward political beliefs. Traditional broadsheet/tabloid press mirror that pretty effectively (no, I'm not getting into the multinational squeeze-hold on things, although there are many facet’s that border onto this).

Where I believe the line between a joke becoming rude is crossed comes from somewhere else entirely.

Competition and the current enthusiasm for competition in creativity. Competition, yes it’s in our nature – look at sport – even done on some levels, for the pure enjoyment, the thrill of winning, never mind the money. No the competition I am talking about is one step removed from patronage – it is laid bare from patronage and is beholden straight to ‘the customer’   - nothing new there? . Hear me out....this is more than straight reasoning on art for art’s sake or money for money’s sake. This is the subtle, but I believe crucial difference between being creative and being exploited as a commodity or ‘strip mined’.

The difference between having a patron whose ideas you may or may not agree with, the freedom to jump ship or holing up in the metaphorical garret, all of which offer choice. And the ’coal face’ whim’s of being directly customer led.

In short as un democratic as it gets.

The patronage issue has always been down to moneyed people in positions of power, ‘letting’ a creative piece be made. A crude example of this is the historical ‘court jester’ – only telling jokes that would please the ‘master and court’ – paid to please but providing a service that the patron couldn’t do himself.

Now we have examples of a newish type of ‘master’ or patronage one of free competition – sounds nice – all the right words. Except I am beginning to think this is not as democratic as it sounds.

Examples of this free competition can be seen in lots of different areas of creativity; art and design for one, comedy another. This strategy has been around for ages as a way of getting the best ‘quote’ in most consumer led industries and also in the more directly related creative industries like architecture for example, where bids are made for projects. And it’s true - bids for art commissions, design and comedy also exist in the established structure of doing things.

No this kind of competition is more akin to the Roman form of ‘entertainment- barbarism’ and unfortunately it seems to becoming  very prevalent in the creative environment. I say unfortunately because unlike other consumer led markets I believe creativity is not essentially consumer led.

I mentioned the coal face – and the coal face is where stuff happens – it can be the place where people cut their teeth - or can stay for the rest of their lives. But when the ‘buffer’ of an employer, patron,  arts council, or government say, are removed  from the equation there is then a direct link between what the customer thinks he wants and what can be given.

The notion that people are exploited for targets and monetary gain is nothing new, and that is another area which definitely borders on this issue. But to give an analogy in the creative arena this free competition is probably best summed up like this; the ‘goods’ produced are made in advance and put on the shelves, so far so usual. Then they are surveyed by the customer the same as in a supermarket - he then chooses the best on offer or what he identifies with – basically what suits him. Customer led production.

 

 

The Internet creative 'supermarket' is a classic example; how many times have you heard some creative professional berating the abysmal standards of wanna-be’s and the reverse idea of freedom ‘to do’ without the middle man or gatekeeper. These are valid points, but the type of ‘freedom’ I am talking about is a style of creating where the customer actually says what they want from the beginning, a brief. The Internet's wonderful ability to level the playing field can only bring benefits as more creative thought reaches its audience. Whatever the medium though, is a trend to have the customer believe they are ‘interacting’ with the artist, whereas actually they have more of a say in the outcome than the ‘nearly employed with a carrot or prize dangling in front’ designer, The customer in fact ends up designing his own piece. Which in creative ‘professionalism’ or even wanna be terms falls short of the creative mark because the customer is moulding it personally.

Essentially creative thought processes are usually more ‘productive’ if the brief is not totally dictated by the customer ie; a certain amount of freedom to be creative. So areas of competitiveness such as the stand up comic circuits for example, on the holiday destinations all over the med, where comedians work hard to ’produce the goods’ that play to a whimsical, transient, and essentially didactic crowd. To the 'supermarket shelves' of designers of all hues, setting up their stall only to be as good as their last sale, if indeed they make one.

Boo Hoo I hear you say - that’s life – yes, it could be called honing a skill and good practice in that way – except this is creativity at its most difficult; constrained if not castrated.

The un funny twist of the ’goods upfront before we buy it’ model is, I believe that the ready-made goods have to be chucked, the jokes ditched - but the goods that make the sale are ‘god’, the jokes that keep the punters in the room are top banana. The whim of the customer is key.  Not the ‘relatively’ free creative thought. The rapport is one sided and of course, crucially, someone else will always step in and win the competition.

The Joke is a given – the customer had already thought it.