Joseph Cornelll

Today i stumbled upon some films by Joseph Cornell on ubuweb. Take a look, they're very fine.
http://www.ubu.com/film/cornell.html

wee wee wee jem ploo.

Here we go then mon petty ammeee. French times, Normandy to be specific.

We drove, which was good for the toot buying and it was easier to adapt to the change of sides than I imagined. phew.

we were lucky enough to stay in a glorious house lent us by Catherine, who might be just about the kindest person ever. We only realised what a stonking favour it was when we turned up and saw the size and splendour of the place.

Being in a foreign land is such a joy, it's fun to like things that you don't even notice at home . . . like road markings. I also took a lot of pictures of fences for all the different patterns; the kind of knobbish behaviour you only have time for on holiday. I was pondered which I like more: being in London or having more space to do stuff. Wondering whether I could live in rural France.

Then I got wooed by a smeyesing donkey and forgot myself.

We ate a lot of food,

which we chose according to whichever product had the best packaging,
dam the expense!



We went to Mont St Michel, which to begin with was a bit like Disneyland on a rock . . . without the rides.

Then we ducked down this very narrow alley and clambered around on some stairs away from the hoards and found it very agreeable.
There were walking tours on the sands which we watched for a long while: they seemed to be constantly getting stuck behind torrents of water threatening to cut them off. It made compulsive viewing; that feeling like you might be about to witness a group of families going to their watery graves.

Normandy has a lot of forests and walking routes and it's perfect mushroom season, here are my favourites.





The colour of this last one is a bit magic, subtle, but magic.

We both had a go at pretending to be Rocky on an old railway, my acting skills left a little to be desired.

Then we stopped at this brook and ate camembert and quince jelly sandwiches - which are supreme.
So there you have it, I have some toot to share naturally once I've sorted it. It's nice to be back.

African hats

I've been in France on my holidays, very nice it was too, I'll show and tell tomorrow but for now I'm at home with dongle internet so I've scoured the archives and here's a morsel.

The funny hat I mentioned in the Eva post is in fact . . . a circumcision hat. I've got two of them.

I bought them from Harvey the beautifully camp man on the market. Just to give you an idea of how camp here's a small example - I hold out a plate of cake to Harvey, he takes a small slice, I say "Come on Harvey you can take a big one" he jumps up all ruffled "How dare you! You naughty girl!" Then he glances from side to side and says " . . . but just for the record, yes I can" and off he wiggles into the market. He's also from Paris and says 'zee' instead of 'the', what a fine combination of characteristics.

Harvey sells African antiques and artefacts. These hats are from Mali, they're given to little boys who have just been circumcised - as a sign that they've been brave. The boys then go to the road and lay their flip-flops on the tarmac; passing motorists give them small change for being brave and the boys lift their flip-flops and let them pass. "But" Harvey says "Sometimes you 'ave to drive over zee flip-flops, because zay are chip-chopping like zere is no tomorrow!".

It was very good of Jack to agree to model them. What I like about them is the thick fabric they are made of, the stripes and the many possibilities of making shapes, maybe with a little alteration you could make a very wearable design that someone might actually put on to leave the house . . .

. . . and I won't tell them the back story if you won't.

Varvara Stepanova

Yesterday I was perusing this book . . .

Varvara Stepanova lived from 1894 to 1958. I really adore her work and I can see a lot of it in some artists who are around now. Whether this is because she's timeless or because we're having a nostalgic blip I don't know.



Some of my favourite things are her clothes and textiles.



Most of these designs date from 1924, a good year for her I think.













She collaborated with Alexander Rodchenko for most of her life.



And it seems she managed to do most things, even book binding.

My new hero, until the next one comes along.

What is it?

what's this then? The top is made of pewter, which apparently is a metal that doesn't react to much . . .

the top's like a tiny spade and it's bent back slightly as if it's been used to wallop something . . .

Any ideas?

Sluice Art Fair

So here are some pictures from Sluice Art Fair.

Setting up. It was really good to be in a bigger, blanker space than usual although I think I did a pretty good job of making it seem like a crowded nook.

Then the customers came. They were all my favourite sort of customers - the kind that go 'oh my!' and give my ego a little rub - 'it's all so wonderful'. There were even some really gassy compliments 'look at all the beautiful colours', 'it really is a work of art'.
There were no miserable or smelly old dealers like on a regular market, that sounds mean but it's true, some of them really do smell: Smelly Peter for example, he smells like sour milk. And there were no mad people. Mad is an entirely objective term I understand but we have some real bona fide barmies down at Spitalfields. Like Lady Three-hats, who some days is Lady Four-hats, she talks like an upset owlet and will whimper and whine over any little animal you have on your stall, 'ooooh, it's a little doggy!' and when in motion she'll just push violently anyone who gets in her way. No, the art fair clientele were all so civilised and polite, some of them owned homes in Kensington others in Chiswick.
 I sold a few things including a house plant which made me happy

I also discovered a little piece of ephemera at the bottom of a box that I forgot to show you. Toilet pins? Any ideas?

This charming young chap bought his teddy a brooch.

and then before I knew it we had to pack up and go, it would have been nice to stay longer, maybe next time.

All in all I'd highly recommend being art; it's a lot easier than making art.