Led by Donkeys Pop Up

Last weekend Bristol had a UK first - a pop up art exhibition by Led by Donkeys, the artivision group responsible for some of the country's most stunning political interventions in recent years, all aimed at calling government(s) to account. 

Think painting the road outside the Russian Embassy with the colours of the Ukrainian flag (right), or all those poster sized tweets throwing politicians quotes back at them, or the projections on the White Cliffs of Dover and so on. The most important of these in my view is the Covid Memorial Wall opposite the Houses of Parliament. 

In a tiny gallery at Midland Road and the rest of which building is usually an Airbnb, the three day event attracted quite a crowd. We queued for over an hour to get in, but it was a good natured wait and was worth it to see the huge Tufton Street plaque up close and personal. Photographs adorned the walls, along with the more recent Truss lettuce poster (left). In the basement the film of children' clothes on a beach (Gaza memorial) was hard to access, but very moving once down there. 

Art it probably isn't, but witty, whilst being clever and serious in intent is most certainly is. The recently published book of the same documents it all for posterity and now has pride of place on my coffee table. Thanks guys, it was an enjoyable afternoon laughing, once again, at the heinous politics of the last decade or so. 

Forgotten Bristol - The Piper Windows

In All Saints on Pembroke Road, my parish church were I of a religious inclination, all the windows of the restored church are by John Piper. But first a little on the 1868 building, erected at the same time as my house when this part of Clifton was developed from fields. The architect was G.E. Street - you'll know his work if you've ever walked on the Strand past the Royal Courts of Justice. All went well until the Luftwaffe turned their attentions to Bristol. They did that a lot, it being a major port and having much aircraft industry. More of this in almost ever future Bristol post, no doubt. A fire-bomb hit the church in December 1940. 

Little of it remained standing, so in the 1960s a shiny new modern church was designed incorporating parts of the old. You either love it or hate it, especially the spire, which urban myth has it was helicoptered into place. It wasn't, there are apparently photos of a crane doing the job. An integral part of commissioning the new church included Robert Potter, the architect, hiring Piper to design the windows. Piper was well-known, of course, for his war artwork depicting bomb damaged churches and other landmarks.

And they are magnificent examples of his work, encompassing all of the windows of the church, the only such which can make this boast. Plus they are not stained glass, Piper's usual medium as in Coventry Cathedral, Liverpool RC Cathedral, Eton College, the Betjeman Memorial Window at Farnborough and that for Britten in Aldeburgh, but rather fibreglass. Into these large sections of fibreglass and polyester mix Piper poured coloured resins to create designs much influenced by Chagall and Matisse. The depth of colour is stunning. Go on a sunny day and see for yourself. Even on a dull day they are impressive. And they were much cheaper than stained glass would have been for the cash strapped War Damage Commission. 

The Baptistry window is from the Book of Revelation - the tree of life and the water of life. The north and south windows depict darkness coming into light. In art historical terms they have been hailed as internationally important examples of post-war Modernism. Just a few steps from my door, who knew? Actually, I do remember seeing them a few times as a teenager.

The problem though with this use of new materials is that they subject to splitting and cracking in the sun. Thankfully in recent times the church researched a solution and installed secondary protective glazing, laminated against UV radiation. Fingers crossed Piper's masterpieces will last to their centenary and beyond. 

Forgotten Bristol - The Nails

Outside the old Corn Exchange in, of course, Corn Street, in the centre of town, the small area that managed, in part, to survive the attentions of the Luftwaffe, we find these curious objects. 

Four waist high bronze nails, all of different design and dates - one is Elizabethan, one Caroline. They were moved to their present location when the Corn Exchange was built in the early 1740s. Commercial wares may have been displayed, and deals were struck on them, payable in cash.

Bristol myth is that they are the source of the phrase 'paying on, or cash on, the nail,' but this seems to have arisen before the nails were set up in Bristol, and may even be Anglo-Norman in source from payer sur l'ungle. In any event Bristol isn't the only city to have nails - Liverpool and Limerick are others.

But nice quirk, and why spoil a good story. Just don't rest your fish and chips or pint on them. They are too splendid for that.

Forgotten Bristol - The Bristol L

I remember as a child a news report about the Bristol L, that particular use of an additional consonant at the end of certain words ending in a vowel, usually an 'a.' Thus if you ask, as the reporter did, a broad Bristolian to read out the following: Carla Rosa Opera Company, they will give you Caral, Rosal, Operal Company. 

You take photographs with your cameral, and an excellent plan is a good ideal. All very amusing to the outsider, but it is unconsciously done, as second nature to the Bristolian as aitch dropping is in Estuary English.

But it created a few problems for my mother trying to teach geography in explaining the difference between an area, as it plot of land, place, and an aerial photograph, as both words are pronounced the same as in 'an aerial photograph of a large areal of woodland.'

I had completely forgotten about the L until we moved back home recently and one of the first conversations I had with a passerby reminded me. It's charming and I've grown to love it again.

Launch of New Pamphlet Chalking the Pavement

Please join me for the launch of my new pamphlet, Chalking the Pavement, from Broken Sleep Books on Tuesday 30 April at 8pm. Tickets to the zoom room are available here. I look forward to seeing you all then!

Academic Honours

I am absolutely thrilled and delighted to do some serious showing off - today my PhD was confirmed. So, I can officially call myself Doctor Noakes.

It's been three years of hard work researching and writing about poetry and the breath. I have written a new book of poems called Sublime Lungs, which explores my asthma, and breath and breathing topics over a wide number of geographies and chronologies. Hopefully it will appear in print in the next couple of years. Publisher willing. Additionally, I have written a full academic thesis looking at the topic through the lens of health humanities and focusing on the work of Charles Olson, Elizabeth Bishop, Elaine Feinstein, and Dannie Abse.

Many thanks are due to my splendid supervisor, Peter Robinson. I can thoroughly recommend Reading University as a great place to undertake a creative writing PhD.

Having started work during the Covid pandemic and spending lockdown days very firmly in front of the computer, I am glad to be able to now lift my head rather proudly into the air of new and exciting poetry things. Watch this space!

Busy times

Busy times mean little time for this website. I am sorry, dear readers, I've been neglecting you at lot this year. My excuse is that I've been travelling - a month in Denmark - plus house selling, house hunting, doing a great number of readings all over the country for Goldhawk Road,  and finishing my PhD. So consider this a pre-New Year's resolution to do some more writing and reviewing here.

Quick tips on some current art shows while I'm at it then:

Marina Abramovic at the RA - seriously not to be missed this one. And do make sure you interact with the doorway - it was a very weird feeling squeezing into the gallery between two naked people. I can't really describe it, except that it was oddly exhilarating. 

Pity the artist is unable to do much, if anything, herself due to ill health, so it's all other performers, but the video work etc. is great. Best to see some film of her explaining the work before you go to make the most of it. There are plenty on Youtube. That or read one of her books - I enjoyed the Art/File one.

Sarah Lucas at Tate Britain - I'd give this a miss, if I were you. Early student work from decades ago is looking rather jaded and frankly, boring. Plus it's only four rooms. However, if you're there don't miss the new painting by Chris Ofili of the staircase, which is a magnificent memorial to Grenfell amongst other things. We'll be enjoying this for the next decade, I'm sure.