...resurrect the French Project again. The weather's getting better; no snow, less rain. Plus, longer days, might even make it out before the traffic gets a hold on the roads?
Got to watch out for the monster pot holes and the numerous roadworks too, which litter the run through Glasgow at the moment.
Maybe do it in stages? Maybe go around Saracen Street too. Maybe go and find more landmarks visible from a car?
Hmm, it might get fun again!
Showing posts with label Glasgow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Glasgow. Show all posts
Saturday, 13 February 2010
Monday, 8 February 2010
...reviewing Wall of Death: Way of Life
at the SECC, Glasgow, February 2010
When I was an extra at the Tron Theatre last month, to kill time between takes, I looked through the leaflets on display. Along with the usual 'see this' and 'go there' rectangular bits of glossy paper, there was a pile of matt, round cards.
These circular objects where promoting a new show with a black and white image of a boy on a motorbike at a near horizontal angle. And with Wall of Death in big capitals on the card's diameter, I instantly knew I wanted to see it.
The song covered by REM started going round in my mind:
"You can waste your time on the other rides
But this is the nearest to being alive
Let me take my chances on the Wall of Death"
It seemed fitting, then, to here this song in the show. I say a show, I mean a convoluted cross between a gallery opening with nervous speeches and Q & A, and a wax-work-like walk through.
You enter hall 1 of the SECC after you're told to go to hall 2 as you collect your tickets.
You then wait and ushers wearing red Wall of Death T-shirts, which give the impression of slick rock-band like informality and cool, hand out postcards and pens for your question for Ken Fox and Co.
Err, I wasn't expecting this, think, what do you ask? Actually, what are we expecting from this thing?
SL and I had a card each, we came up with some non-sense about can you be too old to learn? We did also think of, 'if your children became seriously injured from this, err, sport, would you blame yourself?' A bit heavy or just out and out mean-spirited, we stuck with the age thing and I keep my card as a memento. I did toy with, can you do it with animals but I couldn't word it in a way that sounded appropriate for the many kids that were also in the audience. Plus, I like mementos.
We then were escorted into the next bit, another part of the black curtained hall 1. "stand along to the red rope on the ground" said a disembodied voice. As we all went forward, the red t-shirted brigade took our questions for Ken's lot. At the rope stood a man with grey Elvis-esque hair, a leather bikers jacket atop of a white shirt and black tie and trouser combo. He nervously began to talk into the mic;
"When I was 13 or so, I read a comic about a stunt rider who performed on a Wall of Death, I want to grow up and do this for myself one day, you ride like no other at speed and without fear...." etc, etc, etc.
Yes, well who wouldn't, it looks cool! Plus motorbike, hell, you're Brando!
But how many of us get to fulfil their dreams from childhood, you're still a child at 13 these days, right?
He, Stephen Skrynka, the artist and now, hell rider, did.
As he continued with the laboured introduction, we, the audience could see a fairground stall, circular and colourful behind him. It was covered in bright lights and gramophone horns with small models too. As we eventually 'stepped this way' towards it all, the t-shirted bodies passed us A4 sized posters with old fashioned fonted words, it was a bill of the events of the day; Zoetropes for the modern eye, Wall of Death Hell riders, an experience, a way of life the sheet acclaimed.
The zoetropes where filmed live my cameras, and fed to screens above, so that more of us could see the magic. Are the cameras the modern eye, or are we? What can be gleamed, however, is the beauty of Skrynka's work, all inspired by the with we'll see soon; The wall itself and the stunts performed on it. The music played on horned gramophones with where in-between the zoetropes, which were themselves on old gramophone turntables. The audience took turns to turn and spin the models for others to see. If I'd been listening at the start, I would have heard Skrynka say that these are just glue, wood, plasticine and paper, it's OK for them to get damaged, if only by accident.
After about 10 minutes of the zoetropes and Skrynka running between them, changing the 'discs' like a man spining many plates at a talent night, we more to the next black curtained part.
Attacked by many full height and full width screen on with images where projected of practice on the wall by Stephen and Ken. The speakers shouted out the noises of the un-silenced exhausts of their bikes. A talking head of Ken explaining his choice of lifestyle and the qualities needed for it.
We then move round the giand dark object that sits almost unseen in the middle.
Then a part opens and the projected screens black out.
"Come right up, come right up, and welcome!" said a voice fit for darts commentary. This heralded the start of the Q & A but also the much needed introduction to the riders themselves. At last, maybe this is where the show will start. No, this is a quiet family who don't do that much public talking but do ride a mean wall. Ken Fox has the last Wall of Death in Europe and there are only a couple or so other working examples left in the world. He, between answering many pointlessly asked questions, explains why this was his calling and why no-one else wants to do it anymore. He also answered my unasked one about animals or pets on the wall. Apparently, some people did it with lions in the side car. No dogs mind.
Now, with that all wrapped up, finally, we ascend the stairs to the high level platform on top of the wall itself. Deafened by the bikes in real life, as aposed to video of them, we smell the oil the original round postcard told me about. The atmosphere starts to intensify, the expectation rises as we see the three men (one, Alex being only 15) and the only girl in the world Hell Rider as they take to their machines......
"It's like at the start of a grand prix, but you're right there, in the thick of it!"
So, as I sip my 4th decaffeinated Earl Grey of the day, I can look back and say, yes, after all lthat padding and guff, the wall, sorry, The Wall, was well worth it. Those Zoetropes too.
I can see what it was all about now. I can see what Stephen was trying to say;
Wall of death: a Way of Life
I going to see it again, before it leaves Glasgow, you should too
When I was an extra at the Tron Theatre last month, to kill time between takes, I looked through the leaflets on display. Along with the usual 'see this' and 'go there' rectangular bits of glossy paper, there was a pile of matt, round cards.
These circular objects where promoting a new show with a black and white image of a boy on a motorbike at a near horizontal angle. And with Wall of Death in big capitals on the card's diameter, I instantly knew I wanted to see it.
The song covered by REM started going round in my mind:
"You can waste your time on the other rides
But this is the nearest to being alive
Let me take my chances on the Wall of Death"
It seemed fitting, then, to here this song in the show. I say a show, I mean a convoluted cross between a gallery opening with nervous speeches and Q & A, and a wax-work-like walk through.
You enter hall 1 of the SECC after you're told to go to hall 2 as you collect your tickets.
You then wait and ushers wearing red Wall of Death T-shirts, which give the impression of slick rock-band like informality and cool, hand out postcards and pens for your question for Ken Fox and Co.
Err, I wasn't expecting this, think, what do you ask? Actually, what are we expecting from this thing?
SL and I had a card each, we came up with some non-sense about can you be too old to learn? We did also think of, 'if your children became seriously injured from this, err, sport, would you blame yourself?' A bit heavy or just out and out mean-spirited, we stuck with the age thing and I keep my card as a memento. I did toy with, can you do it with animals but I couldn't word it in a way that sounded appropriate for the many kids that were also in the audience. Plus, I like mementos.
We then were escorted into the next bit, another part of the black curtained hall 1. "stand along to the red rope on the ground" said a disembodied voice. As we all went forward, the red t-shirted brigade took our questions for Ken's lot. At the rope stood a man with grey Elvis-esque hair, a leather bikers jacket atop of a white shirt and black tie and trouser combo. He nervously began to talk into the mic;
"When I was 13 or so, I read a comic about a stunt rider who performed on a Wall of Death, I want to grow up and do this for myself one day, you ride like no other at speed and without fear...." etc, etc, etc.
Yes, well who wouldn't, it looks cool! Plus motorbike, hell, you're Brando!
But how many of us get to fulfil their dreams from childhood, you're still a child at 13 these days, right?
He, Stephen Skrynka, the artist and now, hell rider, did.
As he continued with the laboured introduction, we, the audience could see a fairground stall, circular and colourful behind him. It was covered in bright lights and gramophone horns with small models too. As we eventually 'stepped this way' towards it all, the t-shirted bodies passed us A4 sized posters with old fashioned fonted words, it was a bill of the events of the day; Zoetropes for the modern eye, Wall of Death Hell riders, an experience, a way of life the sheet acclaimed.
The zoetropes where filmed live my cameras, and fed to screens above, so that more of us could see the magic. Are the cameras the modern eye, or are we? What can be gleamed, however, is the beauty of Skrynka's work, all inspired by the with we'll see soon; The wall itself and the stunts performed on it. The music played on horned gramophones with where in-between the zoetropes, which were themselves on old gramophone turntables. The audience took turns to turn and spin the models for others to see. If I'd been listening at the start, I would have heard Skrynka say that these are just glue, wood, plasticine and paper, it's OK for them to get damaged, if only by accident.
After about 10 minutes of the zoetropes and Skrynka running between them, changing the 'discs' like a man spining many plates at a talent night, we more to the next black curtained part.
Attacked by many full height and full width screen on with images where projected of practice on the wall by Stephen and Ken. The speakers shouted out the noises of the un-silenced exhausts of their bikes. A talking head of Ken explaining his choice of lifestyle and the qualities needed for it.
We then move round the giand dark object that sits almost unseen in the middle.
Then a part opens and the projected screens black out.
"Come right up, come right up, and welcome!" said a voice fit for darts commentary. This heralded the start of the Q & A but also the much needed introduction to the riders themselves. At last, maybe this is where the show will start. No, this is a quiet family who don't do that much public talking but do ride a mean wall. Ken Fox has the last Wall of Death in Europe and there are only a couple or so other working examples left in the world. He, between answering many pointlessly asked questions, explains why this was his calling and why no-one else wants to do it anymore. He also answered my unasked one about animals or pets on the wall. Apparently, some people did it with lions in the side car. No dogs mind.
Now, with that all wrapped up, finally, we ascend the stairs to the high level platform on top of the wall itself. Deafened by the bikes in real life, as aposed to video of them, we smell the oil the original round postcard told me about. The atmosphere starts to intensify, the expectation rises as we see the three men (one, Alex being only 15) and the only girl in the world Hell Rider as they take to their machines......
"It's like at the start of a grand prix, but you're right there, in the thick of it!"
So, as I sip my 4th decaffeinated Earl Grey of the day, I can look back and say, yes, after all lthat padding and guff, the wall, sorry, The Wall, was well worth it. Those Zoetropes too.
I can see what it was all about now. I can see what Stephen was trying to say;
Wall of death: a Way of Life
I going to see it again, before it leaves Glasgow, you should too
Sunday, 17 January 2010
...going to push on up and out...
...yeah, I don't know what I mean either. Something about not getting so sleepy all the time.
Well I've started my have a big roast dinner:
Roast chicken breast (over cooked to taste perfection but it shrunk like no-bodies business)
Roast carrots
Roast Parsnip fingers
Steamed runners
Steamed peas
Steamed carrots
Steamed Broccoli
Roast potatoes
Bread sauce
Chicken gravy from steamed veg water (vitamins, hopefully)
Yorkshire Puddings
It might be bad taste to advertise my gluttony but I don't always eat like this. Normally it's a bowl of cereal or a fortnight on Tuesdays, Dominos 2-for-1 (which we eat over 2 nights)
Anywho, here's a picture of said meal:
Well I've started my have a big roast dinner:
Roast chicken breast (over cooked to taste perfection but it shrunk like no-bodies business)
Roast carrots
Roast Parsnip fingers
Steamed runners
Steamed peas
Steamed carrots
Steamed Broccoli
Roast potatoes
Bread sauce
Chicken gravy from steamed veg water (vitamins, hopefully)
Yorkshire Puddings
It might be bad taste to advertise my gluttony but I don't always eat like this. Normally it's a bowl of cereal or a fortnight on Tuesdays, Dominos 2-for-1 (which we eat over 2 nights)
Anywho, here's a picture of said meal:
Wednesday, 2 December 2009
...going into town...
...when I say going into, I really mean gone already.
It was just a quick in and out but I did go via the Lighthouse and Borders in the Merchant's Square, you know, next to GOMA.
The Lighthouse went under recently. It was a real shame that the premier legacy from the 1990 City of Culture was in such peril.
As I took the chance and walked up the alley to the entrance, I was wondering how the foyer would look without any lighting and only brightness coming from the skylight, 4 storeys up.
It wasn't to be, the Lighthouse was open. Yes, only half lit by bulbs but there was a couple of people sitting at reception in the dull gloom. As I asked about the situation, I noticed just how cold it was in there. Dark and cold, this is a tourist's must see. Also it is now without a classy restaurant, coffee shop and the money making merchandise and habitat like store. In fact, as the receptionist relayed the exhibition info, I noticed how there was only a handful of books on display. They're free BTW, yep, free. Also, I am under the impression the Lighthouse is now free to get into too. Thanks to the City Council's help out until March 2010, the place is on half on mode; a shadow of it's former light, brightness.
So go. Go there, bring the numbers up, show that people of Glasgow appreciate the finer things. Make the council see that it is worth bringing back to full beam because as it stands, come March, it's for sale. There's also the ability to change the building use and design. Come March, it really could be the end, end. Once they change it, there's no undo button, there's no more design museum in Glasgow. The only 1990 City of Culture reminder of how Glasgow started to get away from it's stab you now, stab you later image will go.
Borders is also closing down, where will everyone go it read heat magazine for free?
Yet Hamley's has opened a new flagship store down the road at the St Enoch's Centre (of all places?)
Maybe it more a sign of books don't sell but crystal-encrusted-model-cars do?
It was just a quick in and out but I did go via the Lighthouse and Borders in the Merchant's Square, you know, next to GOMA.
The Lighthouse went under recently. It was a real shame that the premier legacy from the 1990 City of Culture was in such peril.
As I took the chance and walked up the alley to the entrance, I was wondering how the foyer would look without any lighting and only brightness coming from the skylight, 4 storeys up.
It wasn't to be, the Lighthouse was open. Yes, only half lit by bulbs but there was a couple of people sitting at reception in the dull gloom. As I asked about the situation, I noticed just how cold it was in there. Dark and cold, this is a tourist's must see. Also it is now without a classy restaurant, coffee shop and the money making merchandise and habitat like store. In fact, as the receptionist relayed the exhibition info, I noticed how there was only a handful of books on display. They're free BTW, yep, free. Also, I am under the impression the Lighthouse is now free to get into too. Thanks to the City Council's help out until March 2010, the place is on half on mode; a shadow of it's former light, brightness.
So go. Go there, bring the numbers up, show that people of Glasgow appreciate the finer things. Make the council see that it is worth bringing back to full beam because as it stands, come March, it's for sale. There's also the ability to change the building use and design. Come March, it really could be the end, end. Once they change it, there's no undo button, there's no more design museum in Glasgow. The only 1990 City of Culture reminder of how Glasgow started to get away from it's stab you now, stab you later image will go.
Borders is also closing down, where will everyone go it read heat magazine for free?
Yet Hamley's has opened a new flagship store down the road at the St Enoch's Centre (of all places?)
Maybe it more a sign of books don't sell but crystal-encrusted-model-cars do?
Thursday, 26 November 2009
...being read by a new fan...
but relatives are the harshest critics
...still 23, just...
...I'll be 24 tomorrow.
Cue:
What Have I done with my life?
Where am I?
Where am I going?
What happened to my youth?
In fact, I was like that all week, now, I'm just numb to the fact I'm really 29 tomorrow.
Hey, at least I look good, and I'm signing up with the extras agency on Saturday, so it's not the end of the world...
...yet
Cue:
What Have I done with my life?
Where am I?
Where am I going?
What happened to my youth?
In fact, I was like that all week, now, I'm just numb to the fact I'm really 29 tomorrow.
Hey, at least I look good, and I'm signing up with the extras agency on Saturday, so it's not the end of the world...
...yet
...impressed with Comet's customer service...
...no, really. Seriously.
I'm not too sure why, but my nan and aunty really don't like Comet, the electrical store. I think it was based on a bad experience when a fridge or microwave or kettle blew up after a day.
I'm all for family solidarity and brand snubbing but their prices on some things are just too good to be all 'sod them and their crappy customer service' especially because my eyes are larger than my wallet.
The item I'm after is a Sony netbook, a vpc w11 s1e in white. It's the normal netbook fare, review straight after this post. At Comet, the white one is £279.99 with free delivery or pick-up instore. Normally, this little 'puter come's in at £349.99 and in some places, the SonyStore & SonyStyle.co.uk it's at £365.99.
So come on, it's a brilliant price right?
Yes it is, and to show it is, the ultra cool brown version at Comet is a web only £339.99, so the macbookpro-esque white will more than do.
The catch...
well, when I got it home, plugged it in and got going, nothing, well, nothing big. The normal cycle of software updates and restarts. But once that was all done, nothing...
...then I pulled the plug. Instant death. But it's been on charge for ages!
No it hasn't, there's no battery. Rummage around the tiny box, nope, nothing there.
Shit.
In the box however, I did find a picture of the battery on a Sony leaflet labelled accessories. Hmm, maybe it doesn't come with one. No, that'll be stupid...
So, off to Comet again, let's kick some arse/ass.
'was it sealed sir?'
'Sony weigh the boxes before they leave the factory, to see that there's nothing missing'
'are you sure you haven't lost it sir?'
oh, this isn't going well. It's like making a pact with the school bully and then asking him/her for your share of the dinner money. Or like how in 10 years time when the UK asks the US for it's half of Iraq's oil. You know you shouldn't have done the deal, but the price looked so good.
'well, you'll have to come back tomorrow, the manager's not in today.'
'are you sure you haven't lost it down the sofa?'
'the box would 'ave been sealed you know'
yes thanks for that mate. hmm, so Comet really are crap.
Next day, popped back in just before rush hour. Luckily Comet's about 5 minutes away.
I was like this to them: 'can I speak to the manager, it's about my computer not having a battery!'
They were like this to me: 'ok, I'll just get her.'
Right, I thought, let the battle commence...
The manager came out and was like this: 'would a new battery be ok?'
'errr, yeah, that'll be fine.'
'could someone get this customer a new battery from either another Sony or from the display's box...
...would that be ok sir?'
'no, that'll be brilliant, thanks, yeah' what an idiot I thought, 'no, err, yeah?' what am I 13 again.
So in summary, stand up straight, dress smart, feel confident and be ready to shout. Then, be polite but stand your ground. They'll be all shit because they either don't really care or they're just flushing out the chancers. If you have to come back, fine, but be ready to not go away again; clear your diary.
Then, from your kick arse/ass persona, they'll not mess with you.
Either that or ask to see the manager the first time round. And to think, for a second, I thought netbook's didn't come with batteries, what a clot!
I'm not too sure why, but my nan and aunty really don't like Comet, the electrical store. I think it was based on a bad experience when a fridge or microwave or kettle blew up after a day.
I'm all for family solidarity and brand snubbing but their prices on some things are just too good to be all 'sod them and their crappy customer service' especially because my eyes are larger than my wallet.
The item I'm after is a Sony netbook, a vpc w11 s1e in white. It's the normal netbook fare, review straight after this post. At Comet, the white one is £279.99 with free delivery or pick-up instore. Normally, this little 'puter come's in at £349.99 and in some places, the SonyStore & SonyStyle.co.uk it's at £365.99.
So come on, it's a brilliant price right?
Yes it is, and to show it is, the ultra cool brown version at Comet is a web only £339.99, so the macbookpro-esque white will more than do.
The catch...
well, when I got it home, plugged it in and got going, nothing, well, nothing big. The normal cycle of software updates and restarts. But once that was all done, nothing...
...then I pulled the plug. Instant death. But it's been on charge for ages!
No it hasn't, there's no battery. Rummage around the tiny box, nope, nothing there.
Shit.
In the box however, I did find a picture of the battery on a Sony leaflet labelled accessories. Hmm, maybe it doesn't come with one. No, that'll be stupid...
So, off to Comet again, let's kick some arse/ass.
'was it sealed sir?'
'Sony weigh the boxes before they leave the factory, to see that there's nothing missing'
'are you sure you haven't lost it sir?'
oh, this isn't going well. It's like making a pact with the school bully and then asking him/her for your share of the dinner money. Or like how in 10 years time when the UK asks the US for it's half of Iraq's oil. You know you shouldn't have done the deal, but the price looked so good.
'well, you'll have to come back tomorrow, the manager's not in today.'
'are you sure you haven't lost it down the sofa?'
'the box would 'ave been sealed you know'
yes thanks for that mate. hmm, so Comet really are crap.
Next day, popped back in just before rush hour. Luckily Comet's about 5 minutes away.
I was like this to them: 'can I speak to the manager, it's about my computer not having a battery!'
They were like this to me: 'ok, I'll just get her.'
Right, I thought, let the battle commence...
The manager came out and was like this: 'would a new battery be ok?'
'errr, yeah, that'll be fine.'
'could someone get this customer a new battery from either another Sony or from the display's box...
...would that be ok sir?'
'no, that'll be brilliant, thanks, yeah' what an idiot I thought, 'no, err, yeah?' what am I 13 again.
So in summary, stand up straight, dress smart, feel confident and be ready to shout. Then, be polite but stand your ground. They'll be all shit because they either don't really care or they're just flushing out the chancers. If you have to come back, fine, but be ready to not go away again; clear your diary.
Then, from your kick arse/ass persona, they'll not mess with you.
Either that or ask to see the manager the first time round. And to think, for a second, I thought netbook's didn't come with batteries, what a clot!
Sunday, 15 November 2009
...waiting for Doctor Who
Some days, thanks to my medicine, I run out of steam. Well, I think it's the medicine, or it might be the depression, or maybe it's because I'm a cat.
Yesterday, I napped for most of the day, having had a busy Friday, popping in and out, phone calls, late night Tesco shopping too.
Today however, not too sure why, but I was drained. Maybe it was all the excitement of Friday and the implications of actually doing something about my acting urge. So I napped for an hour or so, now, I'm good.
I'm not too sure what to do now though.
Maybe after a drive with SL and Milly Moo, I'll do the mundane jobs:
Yesterday, I napped for most of the day, having had a busy Friday, popping in and out, phone calls, late night Tesco shopping too.
Today however, not too sure why, but I was drained. Maybe it was all the excitement of Friday and the implications of actually doing something about my acting urge. So I napped for an hour or so, now, I'm good.
I'm not too sure what to do now though.
Maybe after a drive with SL and Milly Moo, I'll do the mundane jobs:
- clear my desk of paper litter (15-20mins)
- tidy the rest of the office (3hrs)
- take out the rubbish and recycling (10mins)
- collect all of Milly Moo's toys and bits (10mins)
- phone mother (1hr)
- dust (30mins) including watering the plants
Thursday, 5 November 2009
...stuck in traffic
Yes, today was a good recon for a route around the second city of the empire. It was also good for nothing else but reading the signs on the back of white vans and city buses.
Pot holes, heavy traffic and failing light added to what should have been complete misery. But not even that fact that all filming today suffered from an annoying tilt from a poorly mounted camera, has put a dent into my happy mood.
Yes the end result is not 'all that' but as an initial runaround, it was 'all that'.
Shame for the viewer, take 1 lasts way too long. So does take 2 and 3. I might have to go down the 3am route you know.
Hmm, but it will be freezing. Too early and too icy and dangerous surely. No, just too early.
Pot holes, heavy traffic and failing light added to what should have been complete misery. But not even that fact that all filming today suffered from an annoying tilt from a poorly mounted camera, has put a dent into my happy mood.
Yes the end result is not 'all that' but as an initial runaround, it was 'all that'.
Shame for the viewer, take 1 lasts way too long. So does take 2 and 3. I might have to go down the 3am route you know.
Hmm, but it will be freezing. Too early and too icy and dangerous surely. No, just too early.
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