Movie of the month — I will let this speak for itself. Suffice to say that it includes a sequence showing me throwing shapes to Donn T which may cause hilarity.
Donn T is a relatively recent find courtesy yet again of Giles Peterson. She is quite an interesting artist with an unusual but also highly varied style embracing ‘broken disco’ and ‘vox house’ genres, two new ones on me.
Morning Bell by Donn T
I love this particular track for its shear kookynes and classic deep jazz inflections. I gather that this is an example of the ‘broken disco’ style which fragments aspects of disco funk and jazz, separating parts that would normally be integrated into a combined mix. It has fantastic Max Roach like drum work toward the end and I am still not sure if that is a live kit or electronics or a combination of both?
It is now almost eight months since I last had a cigarette and all cravings are a thing of the past. I looked pretty young for my age before but now I have youthfulized by about another five years I reckon. Skin is much smoother, circulation greatly improved and I have almost boundless energy and physical motivation.
We are sweltering in semi tropical conditions with very high humidity. At least we are having some sunshine, which is more than can be said for previous years, and even better, I am able to enjoy it with all of this free time. I don’t mind the heat so much as the humidity, which apparently is a very difficult condition for northern Europeans to adapt too.
Despite the preponderance of decent light (in the later afternoons and dawn) I don’t seem to be quite as active in photography as I should be. A project to capture my surroundings in a more unconventional manner has resulted in the production of a lot of rather twee photo cliches. In other words a Cheshire Life like rendition of prettiness, the kind of approach relegated to my general Prestbury page(s) — anyway not the intended results. I don’t have anything against prettiness mind; it is just that I had an idea to portray the village in a way that is more akin to artistic documentary. Not having the confidence to turn my camera on strangers or marshal them into interesting scenarios is a definite disadvantage here and it is certainly about time my photos had a little more human interest.
So many recent commentators and other (valid) critics that have expressed an opinion on my efforts seem to be suggesting that I have a knack for landscape shots so I may go and work on that a little more. By way of a slight digression I’m quite fascinated by the layout and artificial contours of the local golf course too, with its huge collection of arboreal delights. One good thing about (good) golf courses is when they are cared for or designed by arborealists or horticulturists and then become a sort of living museum of all indigenous tree species in their most splendid full form condition. Mottram Hall was a bit like that and I have never seen such magnificent horse chestnuts and copper beeches anywhere else, other than that of course golf courses are a waste of time — an interesting walk through the trees spoilt by too many Daly Mail readers no less.
Last Sunday was a glorious day, full wall-to-wall sunshine and very clear air. I made another mini movie, sense impression?
Prestbury Solar Sunday sums it all up really, everything started to feel like magic in that light.
Not sure what my next move is to be, things are still just sauntering along and I am now running out of money but not to worry, mustn’t grumble! The “down turn” aka capitalism’s inevitable self-shafting implosion is having a noticeable effect in Prestbury now. The White House restaurant, which has been a village institution for as long as I can remember, has finally closed down and yet another landmark village building is left forlorn and vacant. I can’t remember any precedents for this in Prestbury. Even in the difficult times of the 70s I remember that the village centre still seemed to be thriving though I think it had a more residential character then anyway. The village had a very continental air about it 12 or so years ago when I first came to live here and I always enjoyed sitting out front of the Bollin Cafe with a beer. Tables, chairs and parasols on the main street really gave the Village a friendly and lively ambience I thought.
I have loads of ideas for local based photography and just waiting for more of the right kind of light and enough free time. Really need a camera upgrade too —- arrrgh!
Again we write with an almost empty head but it is necessary to make the obligatory seasonal entry. Things are still pretty much the same for yours truly and as previously mentioned there is a sense of a state of becalmed relaxation, which is very pleasant. Of course it will not, cannot last, as is always the case.
Spring has arrived in Prestbury and there is much joyful colour all around. Monday was exceptionally pleasant sunny, warm and still, just as springtime should be. Now of course this pleasant stillness and clearness of sky is just a seasonal lull, a glimps of a mini proto-summer before the depressing slide into sick climate syndrome and the grey, wet, flooded out reality of real summer months.
I spent much of the afternoon helping Rob to clear up around Ford House in preparation for a sale. Working out doors in the sunshine with Mr N talking cinema, jazz and philosophy is the closest I can get to a sense spiritual fulfilment in Prestbury. It is such a pity that the village has lost the opportunity for a proper community centre in Ford House, a proper ‘drop in’ facility with IT and all sorts of other free ‘community’ share-ins would have been quite nice really. Prestbury needs at least one institution based on socialist principals! I suspect that it is destined to become yet another highly expensive private property though.
Music of The Moment.
It’s music of the moment time, but this time it is a desire for something exceptionally rare that is unavailable as any kind of download.
Joyce & Nava Vasconselos Visions of Dawn
Again Mr Giles Peterson has introduced me to another rare gem of an album. Visions of Dawn was a collaborative effort between Joyce and Nava Vasconselos two significant artists in the 70s Latin ‘Western’ cross over mix-up – apparently. And of course it has attracted a lot of attention as part of my ongoing discovery of progressive 70s Latin Jazz, Latin Soul and Folk Jazz. So far I have only heard the song Chegada (last track on the album) but it was impressively atmospheric in that narcotic inspired way that is essential in all such matters. Lots of reverberating vocals, spatial guitar and distinctive and refreshingly unusual harmonies. I just love these chronologically retrogressive discovery adventures.
It’s a grey misty morning but pleasantly mild for a change and I’m in the process of recovering from yet another bout of really bad toothache. The dentist has put me on a course of extra strong antibiotics so that should sort things out. I am pleased to announce that I am now, at last, a non-smoker! Not a giver upper you understand, ‘giving up’ implies a temporary hiatus in an activity that one would rather continue to pursue, so I am officially a ‘NON SMOKER’ make no mistake.
I’m waiting for some appropriate lighting conditions to facilitate another round of local photography. I keep noticing little things (details) that I think are worth recording. My locality is full of trivial curiosities if one is open to such things, items like vintage 1960s bus stop signs nestling in hedges and those rather stylish 1960s design municipal bins inside a wooden frame. We did have an original one with the red bucket inside on a neat grass verge. I know it sounds trivial but I can make something of these things with photography and I think details like this are interesting to record for posterity.
This is going to get super geeky but I also noticed on a recent ride that a run of very old pylons near Bollington Cross had disappeared! I took a few snaps of the petite lattice towers about five years ago with a little PAS 2Mpx camera.
These were quite interesting, as they were very old dating back to the earliest days of the national grid infrastructure when the highest system voltage was around 135KV. Judging by the insulators this line was operating at about 30KV and the conductor gauge (which was large for a ‘feeder’ line) suggests a current capacity of around 500 amps which equates to easily enough power for a village the size of Prestbury but the line headed in the direction of Butley Town.
The cable catcher arms were a common feature on these older pylons where the wire span crossed a road.
Last minute update at 11:02pm, Just listening to last weeks excellent GP show literally at the last minute — well almost. It is the first Brownswood Basement show of 2009, always good for rarities and collectibles and also featuring a tribute to Blue Note with a vintage European psychedelic jazz trip coming up — I’m in heaven.
Roberta Flack “Feel Like Making Love”
Music of the moment includes a classic and much loved oldie from Roberta Flack. Giles just played the “I Can See the Sun in Late December” track off the Feel Like Making Love album from 1974. I had forgotten just how good and original sounding this song was until just now. Loads more obscure 70s deep R&B Jazz goodness to come.
Last nights Bollipot Loop ride (Prestbury, Bollington, Pott Shrigley, Bollington, Prestbury) did not go quite to plan though this ‘perturbation’ shall we say, constituted one of those events that helps to restore my faith in human nature. It was a lovely clear but temperate night with a gorgeous unclouded sky, Venus shining out in the East quite magnificently, I just knew that I had to head out to the ‘Hills’.
The Bollipot Loop ride usually consists of a stop at the top end of Bollington for chips, before the climb up to the highest point then dropping down into Pott Shrig. At this point I decided to put fresh batteries in my rear light but unfortunately put them in the wrong way round in the dark and must have blown all of the LED’s in the unit. No rear light on this particular ride can be almost suicidal, as one has to traverse a number of pitch-black hilly lanes that are frequented by mad drivers and country boy racers in vans, 4x4s, and large tractor trailer combos etc and even after dark. At this point I had to abandon the rest of the trip up top and headed back down into Bolli where I met a very nice lady walking her dog and asked her if there was a garage near by that may sell bike lights? Nearest is in Tytherington, a long dark lanes ride away. Jane invited me back to her house where she was able to lend me one of her daughters bike lights. So, I managed to get home without incident. Only in Bollington will this kind of thing happen, in fact other people have asked me if I am alright on other occasions when I have had to stop with bike problems, or just chat about the general minutia of my trip.
So there we are, not much in the way of news but my spirit is replenished and I’m finding that basic satisfaction in my environment and the sense of just being out and observing. It is great when otherwise familiar settings seem to take on a whole new life of fascination, this is when you start to notice details and certain qualities that are conducive to photographic work. I’m still trying to perfect my night time photography and find a certain group on flickr to be particularly fascinating. It is for nocturnal photography with no artificial light.
Mark (our man in London) is attending the Festival of Sins in Camden tomorrow night and he has provided a photo of his make up for the night, actually this was just a test run.
I really do need to get my act together with regard to trip down to the big smoke to meet up with some of my old chums.
I’m still quite enjoying the abundance of free time and the sense of not having to rush along with things or avoid certain things altogether because of a need to adhere to a certain hierarchy of events / chores / activities through the weekend. I spent most of the afternoon lazily returning from a trip to Macc. This time cycling back along the Bollin Valley Way but taking all sorts of exploratory detours and looking for photo opportunities. I really do need to record more of my experiences with my camera.
Last week was a particularly difficult time for me both emotionally and physically. My new-found loneliness is not getting any easier and I do miss Gill and the boys such a lot. Sometimes I find it hard to get motivated or inspired to be creative. I was also struck down for the fourth time with the most appalling acute toothache resulting from yet another smoking and stress related abscess. The situation could have been a lot worse when I discovered that my local dentist had ‘struck me off’ due to missing a couple of previous appointments. That was back in the days when I used to feel such a strong commitment to my employer that I would even go all the way into Manchester with chronic tooth pain just so that I could make sure certain ‘clients’ where up to date. Of course, it’s not clever, or heroic, and I feel a return to the days of union lead contempt for this kind of corporate sycophancy is long over due. Fortunately, I did manage to get treated by the NHS emergency centre in Macclesfield. Then re-register with another practice in Macc and hey presto, my new dentist said that he can treat and restore the tooth that others said would have to be ripped out and all at a very reasonable NHS cost, viva the NHS! Yet another smoking cessation is one of the more positive side benefits of the recent dental malaise and this abstinence appears to be ongoing. I’m really going to quit once and for all this time!
I managed to miss all of the local snow bound photo opportunities due to the general discomfort of the last few days not to mention the groggy side effects of painkillers and antibiotics. I had in mind a few shots up in the fields in virgin snowfall conditions, my solitary footprints disappearing into the distance, that sort of thing, existentialism in the English landscapes no less! These would then be infra red processed in B&W. It may still be possible to do this as yet more snow is forecast.
One of the highlights of last week was helping my friend Rob with a bonfire in the Churchyard on a rather beautiful winter day. Rob is the village’s entertaining and erudite odd job man, an ex merchant seaman with allegiances to the beat generation and early counter culture ideology who never really sold out! I always think of Rob as a sort of legacy of the 70s heyday of Cheshire (country) living fashion when places like Prestbury would not have been completely devoid of creative bohemians, youthful eccentrics and other colourful characters with maverick anti conservative values. It is these little moments with Rob that help to keep me sane in Prestbury. It is the meeting of minds, the joy of simple pleasures and the shared love of the environment. This is always combined with a healthy dose of often comedic bourgeois bashing and the deconstruction of consumer capitalism (consumer moron culture) with plenty of Jazz and situationist detours not to mention a healthy dose of pythonesque self mockery.
Starting off with a little video to convey a seasonal mood all shot down by the River Bollin on my old Sony PAS. It’s been fairly warm, almost balmy of late, with plenty of clear sunshine to make up for the general dullness of the so-called summer. Everywhere is covered with a magnificent carpet of golden leaves at the moment, one of the many joys of living in close proximity to many beautiful mature trees, it helps me to keep from completely descending into depression.
The prevailing economic ‘situation’ vis ‘credit crunch’, ‘economogedon’ or what ever the hell the media are calling it this week is not, thankfully, effecting me too much — yet! Of course, one feels a slight pang of satisfaction at the prospect of superannuated bankers getting shafted by their own gambling exploits and the idea of nationalising and regulating the big banks and the finance sector generally sounds like a wonderfully sensible one to me. Nationalised banks! What next you say, an economy based on industries that actually make stuff, solve practical problems and need inventive creativity instead of one based on effete credit derivatives?
I’m getting closer to my camera upgrade and should soon have a Nikon D300 to play with. I can’t wait to start using an idle collection of old but exceptionally good Nikon manual lenses from the AI era, plus also some not so good Tokina ones with Nikon F mount. It will be interesting to see how these work with a super critical digital camera. Generally, I quite like good old manual lenses, I like a lens to be a lens, just high quality glass and metal not stuffed full of delicate miniature electronics and exotic servo devices in a warpable plastic body. And when it comes to lenses you can’t beat Nikon, the maker of some of the most enduring dream machines in photography to quote one reviewer — quite right too!
GP in the background courtesy of BBC online, a very interesting show tonight (actually last Thursday nights) lots of new (unheard before) Jazz tinged and full on Jazz fired tunes from the past and today.
Music of the moment (other moments) includes one old classic and one very new piece from Manchester’s own Matthew Halsall. Sending My Love is a very accomplished Jazz adventure in the classic post bop modal style — I wouldn’t go so far to say he is almost like a ‘white Coltrane’ but there are some leanings for sure.
Joe Henderson’s Power to The People from 1969 is a classic in a similar mode but much more familiar, it includes the ever timeless classic ‘Black Narcissus’. Herbie Hancock provides keyboard input on this album so there is something of a hint of classic modern jazz merging with that proto psychedelic funkiness of the late 60s. As the title suggests the album is rooted in the black political consciousness of the era which makes for a kind of purposefulness that always appeals to me.
Karen (a very close and dear friend) has sent a post card today praising my web activities! I think she has been more or less oblivious to these efforts during the course of our long friendship that goes right back to college days. Although she is only fifteen miles away we have never the less continued to engaged in something of an ongoing and quite significant exchange of letters. I write many thousands of words each year, and now this “project” seems to have acquired something of a shared semi biographical significance. A veritable repository of crystallized thought constituting an on-going account of a life shared through mutual interests and understanding. It is of course much more significant than these rather tired old weblog entries. I think I am often quite exhausted from putting so much of my writing effort into the wonderful Kaz letters.
No change as of today, the general situation continues to be the same and my attitude and mood is also relatively unchanged, see previous entries, revolution is in the air…certainly in this house. I wonder about the possibility of becoming a green activist? Though, I wouldn’t half mind getting back into the Inland Revenue if only to pursue certain organisations and swoop on even the slightest hint of miss doings. I quite liked the possibility for “righteous” power that came with a job in the Revenue!
