I went shopping and took these iPhone pictures and stuck them together in collages. The first image is from House of Fraser and All Saints, the second is Paperchase and the third is from an art shop.
Posts Tagged With: Art
‘It’s insane,’ said a friend of mine after watching Noel Fielding’s Luxury Comedy.
That’s the ultimate accolade for a show which has been described as biting into an aurora borealis sandwich. Known for the phenomenally successful Mighty Boosh, Fielding has created a colourful world of bizarre characters in psychedelic settings which boggle the mind. It’s a kaleidoscope of lysergic humour, which takes in Sgt.Pepper, the most dazzling extremes of glam rock and more than a large dollop of The Banana Splits. Remember them? Andy Warhol features as Noel’s cleaner, with a voice like Stephen Hawking and a laugh that comes as tickets. It’s a hugely entertaining visual wonderland, with artistic and cultural splashes on a canvas of indefinable humour.
It’s about to end it’s first run, so grab the final episode on Thursday 8 March on Channel Four (UK, sorry about that – emigrate) or watch the series on 4 OD but hurry because the episodes are expiring in order.
I want you to meet my favourite painter! He died in 1967, the year I was born. He was off my radar too, until a TV producer friend of mine dragged me to the Edward Hopper exhibition in London at the Hayward Gallery in 1981. I was 14, developing a casual interest in painting and drawing to the extent that people would shove paintbrushes in my hand or position canvases in my path.
Horribly distracted by hormones, I sleepwalked through my audience with the Great Master and acquired a few postcards and a ‘so what?’ attitude on the way out. How I…want to slap my younger self.
Picture by Charles Ritchie
Within a few years I tuned into the quiet magic of Hopper and my fascination with his realist style led me to study him for my Art A-Level (un-slapped.) I tried to paint in his style, aping Hockney’s early photo-realistic paintings but all the while aiming for the monumental stillness of Hopper’s human subjects, which were often dwarfed by the faded grandeur of his architecture.
It could have been his rugged, windswept landscapes or the stark and beautiful light of New England but I was spellbound by some undefined, elusive quality. There is a sense of desolation, a profound loneliness to much of his work. It makes me think that for all our sound and fury, there is an emptiness to our existence. Hopper didn’t discriminate between an extravagant Painted Lady or the bold functionality of a light house. He saw beauty in geometry, and he loved the way sunlight paints those shapes, completing them.
His study of dereliction or vacancy is equal to his celebration of our grand achievements. The fanciful facade of a 19th Century theatre is rendered with the same wonder as a simple tenement window glowing at night. But it was the pause for breath backstage which preoccupied Hopper, the noises off. The people in his paintings are very much still-life: quiet, reflective characters captured in oils. If Film Noir had been a colour medium, it would have looked like a Hopper painting.
The great drama of Edward Hopper’s figurative work lies in the mystery of what happened before the moment captured – or what happened after. Although his execution of the human form comes second to his masterful landscapes, the enigma lies in their sense of ennui. Each one seems to be slightly uncomfortable, anticipating something.
Hopper found majesty in our surroundings, exploring the way we impose ourselves on the landscape. We build boxes and we put ourselves in them.
The weather’s sh*t but the clothes are fantastic!
Manchester would be perfect if it was just a little closer to the equator. The second part of my tour of the Northern Quarter looks at the wonders hidden between the boutiques and the bars.
The light in Manchester can be really stubborn. This picture was unusable until I started experimenting. It’s amazing how much information can be extracted from the pictures we delete. This one went through iPhoto and Photoshop and I was surprised at what came out. These metal birds are just round the corner from my apartment. Everywhere you look in the Northern Quarter there are tiles or sculptures, murals and installations. The streets are paved with poetry! You can read Lemn Sissay as you walk up Tib Street.
home and confide
where the silent
We even had a Banksy which was lovingly painted over by the City Council.
This mural was right outside my lounge window for years, and it was only when I took this picture that I noticed how rich it is, detailing the history of the neighbourhood.
It’s a mecca for DJs and clubbers, artists and fashionistas. Manchester’s funky town features vintage clothing, specialist record shops and art galleries. The Northern Quarter has a rich history boasting Italianate architecture and the first cotton mill. These days it’s all street art and café culture. Bohemian, or ‘vibrant’ as an estate agent might tell you as he shows you round a loft apartment, but you try getting some sleep at night…!
These are the tiles of Tib Street, the details echoing the famous pet shops which stretched from Market Street to Swan Street.