mono thoughts

I've been sent some information about a new and somewhat expensive camera. It's okay though, I'm not about to rush out and acquire one. It's the new Leica M9M. This is the third edition of their camera that supports a full size 35mm image digitally.

The other two are both still available, there's the least expensive one- the M9, which doesn't have special glass to protect the screen on the back. The middle priced one called M9P adds the scratch resistant glass and removes a red dot logo from the front for around an additional £400. Then there's the new and most expensive one, which strips away all of the logos and provides a Monochrome only capability. Yes - no colour.

It's set my mind whirring a little bit. I can understand that 18 Megapixels dedicated to black and white pictures can probably increase the tonal range of the pictures.

I also understand that there's a different way to take monochrome pictures, to get to the essence of the scene. I'm also very familiar with only having a black and white film (usually Ilford) in my camera.

The difference is that the film camera can be swapped between mono and colour for the price of the film and its processing. This Leica camera is around £6k plus lenses and only shoots mono. For some reason, the adverts for it are in colour too.

Now I've mused about the advantages of simple camera controls in the past, instead of the increasing layers of computer software and menus we routinely get. I still mostly stand by that ability to return to simple ways to take the pictures. I also enjoy the ability to flip my little Lumix camera into mono mode and snap away in that mode for street photography.

So this Leica idea seems to me to be at a somewhat rarified level and I wonder how it will catch on?

the dealer smiles all the time

I don't pay enough attention to the detail of the FTSE, DAC, NYSE and -er- the CAC, but it's sometimes helpful to keep an eye on the big numbers.

A few days ago the FTSE was around 5800 and slightly drifting north. Tonight it is around 5400 in my rounded out way of looking at things.

Of course, it's the €uro that's causing the turbulence and Greece as the catalyst for whatever happens next. A new French prez visiting Angela Merkel whilst George Osborne wrings his hands and points to the continent won't hack it.

They all know its more more pernicious than the specifics of the Greek situation. The banks continue to roll on the turn from everyone else's losses. They won't catch the falling knife, instead they'll cynically think about where to dump the problem.

In departmental budgeting there's that saying that deficit migrates to the least well managed area. Like playing poker and knowing who is the sucker. And if you don't know then it's probably time to get out.

The trouble with the €uro is that the politicians know that poker thing too. But it's their deck as long as they stay close to the bankers, so they can push the casualty beyond Greece, Spain and maybe Italy and back onto all of us.

unpacking

I had a free goody arrive in the post yesterday. It was a sort of hand grip attachment for the Olympus OM-D camera, and it was part of an 'early adopters' incentive.

Remarkably well-engineered, it completely transforms the nature of the OM-D, which I'm already enjoying as a workman-like and svelte SLR-type camera, but with this extra set of controls it can become a somewhat chunkier format well suited to portrait format as well as landscape.

My quick test shots are a variation of those strange pictures and videos that some people take of unpacking things. My style, as when unpacking this device, is more to turn the box upside down and shake out the contents and then check that there's nothing left behind.

So as an experiment, I decided to unpack the goody bag from the Team GB concert.

First, an inevitable programme.

And then, some magazines including a copy of Hello. Not really sure what that's about nor that I'll wade past the pictures of celebrity weddings to find out.

Then, a collectibles album and some medals to put in it.

There's also the well bound guide to the silent auction, which seemed to raise well over £120k on the night, plus a separate live auction where each lot generally started at about two grand and mainly topped out at about £30k. This included things like a selection of hard to get finals tickets and some side trips to New York for shopping. We kept the silver bidding pom-pom on a very short leash for this one.

And then some attractive scarves, which most people displayed during the evening, although we seemed to get some extra ones in the bags.

Not forgetting the chocolate (although it seems to have been eaten), the Team GB badges, an invitation to a spa, pens and a marker from writing a postcard to an athlete.

There. Unpacked.

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).