attending the team gb evening

We found ourselves at the kick off event for Team GB at the Olympics and rubbing shoulders with a few of the great, good and -er- very fit.

A black tie occasion complete with red carpet and actually my second brush with royalty this week.

When I spotted the Queen a few days ago, for Parliament's opening, I did that rooftop thing where I looked around and could see a few strategically positioned men in special uniforms up on high.

For this one, we'd all been told to bring passports or driving licences as additional I.D. in order to get in. The procession of dinner jackets and fancy frocks past similar looking special uniforms was speedily handled, but also a reminder of the vigilance at these occasions.

This time the event was with William and Catherine, what with them being patrons for the GB team and all.

We'd actually seen them a little earlier in the day as well, whilst around Belgrave Square where a policeman on particularly sleek and smooth running motor cycle had stopped traffic. As a fleeting moment we'd seen the entourage whisked through the quiet streets away from the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge's London residence.

We were still outside the Royal Albert Hall when the royals arrived, with the inevitable flurry of attention for Kate's latest hairstyle, the teal? dress and even discussion of the shoos. Of course, for this occasion, complete with its fancy dinner, we had a proper 'Now be upstanding' moment to welcome them into the Royal Albert Hall, before the main evening kicked off.

And once inside it immediately moved from process to hospitality and became a bit of a champagne do, positively signalling the start of the last part of the countdown.

And much later, as we emerged for carriages at around one a.m., we could smile at the large number of well-groomed people wandering around SW7 carrying their heavily laden goody-bags away from the event.

my walk in London is disrupted

Another disruption today, in Central London.

I'd just come out of a meeting and back into the street, when I noticed it had changed somewhat since the time I'd gone in.

There were new barriers everywhere and a noticeable police presence. That's when the marching band appeared from behind one of the major monuments.

Then I noticed the sawdust on the ground just as the clop of hooves denoted the presence of the Household Cavalry.

Of course, if the Household Cavalry were out in all their finery, then you could be sure that someone significant wouldn't be far behind.

I spotted the shiny coach being pulled by white horses. And then I noticed the crown.

Yes, it was the Queen passing by, on her way to the Royal Opening of Parliament.

hourly samples

Sometimes it's so busy that I don't have time to write a proper blog post.

Other times I have a stack of ideas and then plan to spread them out over several days, but in the interim something else comes along. I think I noticed that there's about 200 draft posts in rashbre central that won't ever see the light of day.

I'm pleased it's remained something of an experiment as I flip into yet another year of blogging with its sprinkling of other weird sub-projects including various social media streams and lovely links.

And I'm still not sure whether a backwards movie poster or a picture of a London bus will get the greatest number of hits.

But I do know it's still fun to put ten minutes aside to post a picture and some words.

tasting the tactical nuclear penguin

Somewhere along the way we decided to drop into the fairly new Brewdog bar. I'd spotted it a couple of days ago and wondered whether they'd sell tactical nuclear penguin.

My accomplices were not familiar with this particular beverage, nor indeed with the more modest 'Tokyo*' which was actually available in pint glasses.

We decided to order the TNP and also some 'Sink the Bismarck', which was a slightly stronger ale. It was the result of a competition between the breweries, where Brewdog produced TNP at 32.5% and then a German company upped the game with some kind of ice-pilsner. That led to the 41% Sink the Bismarck.

A later beer called 'End of History' was also produced at 57%, but only 12 bottles were ever made.

So what does Tactical Nuclear Penguin taste like?

Imagine a treacle mining expedition towards the centre of the earth, perhaps with a peat smoke wafting through the bore holes. You get the idea.

I was in the minority in our group in sort of preferring the Penguin to the ship, which had an even more intense flavour but for which the extra 9% alcohol didn't seem to advance the cause more than to beat the other brewery.

Interestingly, neither the Penguin nor the Bismarck were displayed on the wall behind the bar and we had to furtively ask for them.

*Tokyo is around 18% ABV

Trashed Organ Fringe: Rob Heron and Tea Pad Orchestra

Sunday saw us along at the Cumberland Arms, which was running its ten year birthday celebration. A packed and lively scene, which included a wide range of musicians performing.

Here's Rob Heron and the Tea Pad Orchestra, although we've cheated slightly and included a number from their set at Trashed Organ.

Trashed Organ Fringe : Lizzie Whyman

A short extract from Lizzie's set, from the Trashed Organ 'We're all mad here' readings at the Central.

You'll see from the video that Lizzie also has a book 'Touchpiece' published and available on Amazon here

I visit Elizabeth Price - Here

Friday's weather changed as I moved from upstairs to downstairs, to the extent that I changed my plan as I walked through the revolving doors.

Instead of left, along the river, I flâneured straight ahead and soon found myself in the gallery where one of the Turner candidates has a show.

It's Elizabeth Price's show called 'Here' and the entrance was completely dark, leading into various large rooms of shadowy figures.

Elizabeth's work is immersive large format video, mainly featuring objects, sharp soundtracks and an overlaid textual narrative.

I watched three - one about the car transporter that sank bearing its cargo of 2500 Volvo cars. Another was called 'Choir' and referenced the area of a church, the singing ensemble and the quire of paper. And third was a piece entitled 'User Group Disco', which described taxonomies for consumer artifacts, with often kitsch qualities.

I came in on Choir, which in its first sequences featured a percussive handclap as a soundscape accompanying fast cut images and slower messages. This worked well and introduced some of the secular and bawdy aspects of church carvings. There was a section describing the three dimensional geometry of church spaces, which also played to my disorientation in the dark space I'd entered. The piece later developed into curves and linked hand gestures, then via lo-fi re-filmed singing from the Shangri Las and then towards a major store fire that occurred in Manchester but where the same gestures could be seen.

Something that worked well was the way the very dark space was lit by the often dark high resolution images. A kind of HAL/Alien/Silent Running space freighter image flicked through my mind for two of the exhibits.

The final image of Choir was of burning furniture. As I left to enter another space I found myself testing the gallery boundary with outstretched hands in case I was crossing via a barrier of glass or netting.

The User Group Disco used a lot of 'Business PowerPoint talk' about core mechanisms, strategic imperatives and flows. Words we all know and can assemble into clever diagrams but still need to write down to remember the models. We were being talked to through the images and text, like a sort of machine communication. It talked in the 'We' and 'You' format. Another reflection of a HAL, maybe? I wondered who the 'We' was that was creating these messages. I mused whether the text should have been reversed so that we could actually be inside the head of the mechanism projecting to us - a sort of play on the 'Here', but maybe people would just think the projector was malfunctioning.

The accompanying visuals were moodily shot artifacts from a kind of 'Ideal Home Show' living supplement. Banana racks, egg whisks and other shiny shiny gadgets.

But we were also told that the museum holding these items still contained monsters.

Maybe my space freighter thoughts were right after all?

Trashed Organ Fringe : Ged Robinson & Degna Stone with Adam James Cooper

An extract from the Trashed Organ Fringe collaborations - "I don't think we've met?" - this time with poet Degna and musicians Ged and Adam collaborating.

Trashed Organ plays right to the curfew

A short jazzy extract from Day Four of Trashed Organ's brilliant Fringe NCLA Festival of Belonging. Thursday's theme was "I don't think we've met" and all of the pieces were collaborations.

In addition to the individual performances, the evening featured Fiona's Jazz Express, who are seen playing here right up to the performance curfew.

We've oodles of other videos and dozens of lovely pictures from Jonathan Parker's Spurious Nonsense, so expect a few more postings about the event over the next few days.

Unless I get trapped in an Italian restaurant or another bar full of musicians or even a play about a Geordie Sinatra (for example).

Kalagora at the Festival of Belonging

Kalagora arrives in New York and is given a hard time by Homeland Security. We latch into a fast moving story which flashes back to the whirling colours of Mumbai. Drama in a cigarette purchase for a wide eyed out of towner.

Then later and past the immigration officials to hedonistic living large in New York. Made up social security numbers and different type of spin surviving not as homeless, but maybe as an experimental lifestyle.

Before time in the cultural mix of London's east end. Hackney, Mile End, Shoreditch, Whitechapel, Bethnal Green.

It's an energy packed show, written and performed by Siddharta Bose and this time in The Central, where we'd tried to create the slightly makeshift impression of a hybrid of Mumbai, Manhattan and Brick Lane.

This was a tight script. Fast paced, bursting with ideas, with rich impressions and still telling a roller-coaster story. I was there. This was a conversation.

Ingenious and unforgettable.

Check out Jonathan Parker's beautiful pictures from the event at Trashed Organ.

flâneur a while with the trashed

It's a few days of sensory overload at the moment, with the Trashed Organ Fringe event in full swing. It was also mentioned in the Guardian on Tuesday, where it features as part of the wider Festival of Belonging.

I arrived on Monday evening and it was one of those high speed hotel turn arounds where I had eight minutes from arriving in the room to the point where I had to meet outside a certain theatre at a designated time.

I made it, but the bag wasn't unpacked.

Then it was full on until about one o'clock in the morning and a similar process repeated on Tuesday.

We even managed to get back to the local Chinese take away after it had closed. Almost unheard of.

When I get a few more moments I will post something about the event. Suffice to say it's getting well received critiques from most attendees and some have already been back for extra helpings the next evening.

Monday was 'We're all mad here' - not a stretch for some of us and then Tuesday was a relatively sober themed and enthralling evening encompassing 'Castles, Collieries and Coastlines' mixed with some flâneur.

Today I took off for a while to wander myself both through the city and also the rugged areas described in yesterday's sessions, including the deserted shipyards, a busy North Sea cable plant, part of Hadrian's wall, the fish quay area of North Shields and the lighthouse at St Mary's Island.

And in another hour or so the next evening starts, with us preparing for Siddhartha Bose's Kalagora which is about journeying from the street surrealism of Mumbai to London’s East End via Manhattan. That's at 7pm, ahead of the Trashed Organ event.

Tonight its "Anywhere I lay my head" - a Tom Waits reference, and entirely appropriate.

OM-D arrives and is instant good fun

Keeping this blog running requires a fairly steady stream of pictures and some will know I dabble with photography alongside my various other interests.

The pictures that make it to the blog are from a mixture of sources from fancy DSLRs, an occasional film shot, some iPhone (the London shots this week are from the iPhone) and various point and shoot clickers.

I suppose my real preference is still cameras with viewfinders, having learned to take pictures using an Olympus film camera and even to develop the snaps in a dark room with smelly chemicals and contact strips.

So when the renaissance of the Olympus OM series was announced a short time ago, I thought I'd better take a look. It's obviously not as highly specified as the latest Nikons and Canons, with its smaller sensor and so on, but for a lot of purposes that misses the point.

What is great about it is that it provides a small form factor DSLR like experience, even if it doesn't have a proper mirror system inside - instead using electronics to create the viewfinder image.

I've not had time to have a proper play yet, but I'm already intrigued with the possibilities. It comes with a pretty reasonable 12-50mm lens (which is 24-100mm in 35mm speak). The lens is also light weight but well built, achieved by keeping the aperture in the range f3.5-f6.3).

I haven't even set up the 'RAW' mode yet, so here's a quick 'through the window' shot as a test.

The fun is also to be able to use my other micro 4/3 lenses with it - which are from my Lumix camera and give me some tiny but wide aperture primes - a 14mm f2.5 and a 20mm f1.8.

And then there's the little adapter I have which lets me clip old-school Olympus OM Zuiko lenses onto the camera as well.

Because of the 2:1 ratio of their focal length on a 4/3, I wondered if this would be very useful, but I can already say it is. The old lenses are generally quite small (thats the Olympus way) but open up some interesting options, like my old 55mm f1.2 and my £10 50mm f1.8. I have quite a few of these lenses and the camera breathes new life into them.

A quick few tests with some of them has shown some interesting factors.

Firstly, they each look good through the viewfinder. The aperture controls work, but instead of the view getting darker as I stop down, the electronic viewfinder compensates, so the brightness of the view is maintained - its so good I initially thought the stop down aperture was broken.

Then the focal lengths of these old lenses could create wobble. However, they all get an instant upgrade when used on the OM-D, because it has in-camera stabilisation. I'm sure a tripod could help, but it's fun to use these old lenses at wide apertures and let the camera's 'insane for film' type ASA take some of the strain.

And there's a sort of 'look' with the pictures from some of the lenses, which is still somehow analogue in the world of high definition electronically operated lenses. They are still manual focus and manual aperture, but it somehow brings the camera back to the basics.

But don't get me wrong, there's a lot of technology in the little OM-D. It's one of the few occasions where I've thought I might actually need to read the manual. I've even downloaded it, because the one in the box is only the starter guide.

So that might be my suggestion to Olympus for the next model. Perhaps they should have an 'analogue shooter' mode that is very simple alongside all of the fancy touch screen spot focusing stuff?

I know this camera isn't as well specified as the new D800 from Nikon, for example, but it certainly has the potential to be a lot of fun.

I'll try it out properly next week when I'm on the road.