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Wednesday 30 April 2014

England, My Profoundly Bizarre Place


Last Wednesday was St George's day and despite being a proud, patriotic (3/4) English woman, I wasn't aware of it until I went on Twitter at 9am. It was also Shakespeare's 450th birthday, a fact I was more aware of due to the million e-mail newsletters I receive from theatres and cultural blogs everyday. A proud day for England some might say.

Yet, this year, as every year I couldn't help but think about the lack of energy surrounding St George's day. Sure there are celebrations going on.. Apparently there was a parade.. but does anyone really care about this day of Englishness? Compared with the international celebrations that St Patrick's Day brings and the intensely patriotic celebrations of the 4th July in the USA and apparently (according to the Dutch intern in my office) Kingsday in Holland among many others, St George's day barely resonates in England.

To be honest, I'm not sure why it is. Perhaps St George's cross has been hijacked too many times by far-right fascist, sexist arseholes hell-bent on narrow-minded, misinformed destruction. Perhaps the English still harbour guilt over years of oppression of the empire. Whatever it is, we're not really allowed to be English anymore. 

It's not that I'm not proud of being British, I am. My blood is a quarter Irish with streaks of Scots and I've Welsh relatives, but I've been brought up in England. My grandparents hail from Newcastle and Manchester as well as Dublin. My father is a born and bred Saarrff-Londoner and my mother grew-up in Surrey, as did I. 

I'm proud of being English as well as British and I think we should be. So I thought I'd round up my 11 reasons I'm happy to be English today and what we should cherish and celebrate. 

1) Accents



Is there a place that per square mile has as many different, strange accents as England? From Geordie to Sarf-London, from Manc to middlesborough to the West-Country. From Cockney to Scouse to Yorkshire. I love it and I love them all.

2) Music 


The quote in the title of this post was from Gene Simmons, of Kiss, an American who said:   
"England is a profoundly bizarre place that has produced thousands of bands the world has worshipped."
This is something we continue to do. Producing an eclectic mix of great music, talented musicians, internationally adored bands and fantastic producers and DJs. All with that hint of humour behind them that is ever-present in English culture. 

Glastonbury is still the best festival in the world.. despite Coachella's posy pretension and fucking sunshine ALL THE TIME. In 2012 four out of the top five best-selling albums in the US were British (English actually except Niall from 1D). I'm not saying you have to love all our exports, but appreciate what the country can do.

3) Sports

Yeah we never win the football, yet still we soldier on believing . The English invented many games that they are now rubbish at. Yet still we back our own, still we stoutly support sports that we would generally never watch or understand if our own are doing well.

We celebrate very Englishly too, quick celebration, the pub and back to work the next day. Not like other countries I could mention...

Recently the Olympics has been our greatest achievement, the (British-I-know) team and the great English city of London showed the world. However one of the best days of my life involved Johnny Wilkinson and the England Team against Oz, a fabulous drop-kick in extra-time, all on one miserable November day in 2003.


I went to a very good party the evening of this match back when I was 17.. I remember we worried for weeks that if England lost, no boys would come and we'd be left drinking Breezers and snogging each other. Luckily it ended up being a night to remember and one of my friends even lost her virginity; poor lad was full of beer and emotion and dear sweet Johnny, so she got rogered against a garden shed... it was like the summer of love all over again.

4) Fashion


I just love the creativity of the English with their fashion. I love how they are not scared to look a little scruffy around the edges. We're not as chic as the French or Italians, we're not as glowy and blowy as the Americans, we're not afraid to clash or dress something up or down or layer or over accesorise.

Also, every town in England has a slightly different style and I love that and I love noticing it as I travel.

I love our designers best of all. If I could live in Williamson, Dame Westwood and Burberry, I'd be fine. Throw in some Hunter Wellies, M&S, Sweaty Betty and Topshop and a a lot of Vintage and who needs anything else. And yes, I do mean all together.

5) Laugh English


I altered this myself.. The English humour is the BEST. Will never be beaten. Look at comedy, look at literature. Look at our attitude towards life. All with a pinch of salt and a derogatory comment or a harmless joke. Love this.

6) Blitz Spirit/English Attitude


I really don't need to write much for this... it's the small things and the large. Call it what you will, if you find the Blitz spirit thing too much of a cliche.. It's putting ones head down and getting on with it, cracking a joke here and there, supporting others without asking for any reward. Sometimes we think we've lost it, but it's always lingering under the service there.. ready for use.

7) "A Nation of Shopkeepers"





The origin of this phrase is a little misleading as thought it is always Napoleon who is quoted:

"L'Angleterre est une nation de boutiquiers."

Belittling the English in one fail swoop with his dismissal of our commercial-based power. He believed the English would be weak in the war as they had no land power, only naval and commerce. However, it was in fact used first by Scottish philosopher and economist, Adam Smith, often sited as being "the father of modern economics", he extolled the virtues of the free market.

Either way, it is in this I am proud, we are resourceful and entrepreneurial and we like to buy and sell things... it is what we are good at. From little village shops, to great department stores to international brands and web based retailers. I am not saying that a completely commercial world is a great thing, but this need to consume and sell and find another little niche is just so English. It does upset me when I see great chains destroying village high streets, but we need those as well. Again, it is the attitude.

8) English Country Garden (and Village)



Idealised in the Victorian period when the cities finally overtook the countryside in terms of population in Britain, an English Country Garden became the rural idyll for town folk. Nowadays we still love the picture of England's green and pleasant land in our heads, even though that is rarely what we see.

Similarly with village life, we love the idea of the English village full of strange people and their dogs. Broadcast has covered it since it started, from the Archers to the Vicar of Dibley to the Great British Bake-off.

I love this about England, love the ideal of it even if it's not true. Love a village and a garden.

9) Travel

Sir Ranulph Fiennes, one of England's Finest Explorers

We may not bother to learn any other languages as we simply assume that English is spoken the world over, but we do know how to travel and we are good at it. (Brits Abroad not withstanding). Travel broadens the mind and as we live on a very small island it is important that we do this. We have forever, not always with the best results.. but we're better at it now. You can't be proud of your own nationality if you don't go and see others and see what's great about theirs too. And no, most of Spain's beach resorts in the summer-holidays do not count as a trip abroad.

At the least travel round Great Britain and see all the wonderful places there are to see.. yeah

10) Literature and Poetry


Sure we're the nation of Shakespeare and Byron and Keats, Dickens and Mary Shelley, Austen and the Brontes. However, our modern offering is just as impressive: Abi Morgan, Hilary Mantel, Mendelson, Ishiguro and McEwan. It's an endless list. 

A pride in both the past, present and tentative future of our writers and poets is still very much part of our heritage.

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there’s some corner of a foreign field
That is forever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England’s, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
From: The Soldier - Rupert Brooke
Hurrying to catch my Comet

One dark November day,Which soon would snatch me from itTo the sunshine of Bombay,I pondered pages BerkeleyNot three weeks since had heard,Perceiving Chatto darklyThrough the mirror of the Third.
Had made my taxi late,
Yet not till I was airborne
Did I recall the date -
The day when Queen and Minister
And Band of Guards and all
Still act their solemn-sinister
Wreath-rubbish in Whitehall.
These mawkish, nursery games:
O When will England grow up?


Crowds, colourless and careworn
It used to make me throw up,
 From: Naturally the Foundation will Bear Your Expenses - Philip Larkin

11) Art and Expression



Just do it. Most of all what I love about England is its ability to move forward and adapt and enjoy the times. We begrudgingly moan for a minute and then embrace a new culture, just like that and our Englishness is about embracing the subcultures and the new creative movements and celebrating the diversity. We've always been a small country that has filtered our experiences of the world and its people into our own ethos.

And that's it my little eccentric English friends and others... love England being English and British and I love the world... 

Please note as well... these are my prides.. yours could be totally different...


All images are not (c) me - except a couple of Instagram ones




Friday 25 April 2014

Literary Role Models for Girls 1: Pippi Longstocking by Astrid Lingdgren


This is a new series of posts that looks at literary icons for children, teens and tweens. Fed up of the idolisation of pop-stars and celebutantes who aren't always the best examples for the nations daughters (though I'm not saying they should be), I wanted to look at the girls and women that inspired me as a child and taught me that I could be anything I wanted.

Before Lisbeth Salander made everyone Scandimanic, there was one Pippi Longstocking; a nine-year-old with super human strength left to live alone by her sailor father with a horse and a monkey. Recogniseable for her ginger pigtails and freckles, she is rude and adventurous possessing little formal education, yet having all the necessary life skills to look after herself.


Whilst living alone in a multi- coloured mansion with only animals for company and no grown-ups to tell one what to do may be every child's dream, it is the spirit of Pippi that stays with you to adulthood. Sparky, prone to truth stretching and the antithesis of the traditional little girl ideals of dolls and cooking, she has been encouraging fun and good clean mischief for over sixty years.

The children came to a perfume shop. In the show window was a large jar of freckle salve, and beside the jar was a sign, which read: DO YOU SUFFER FROM FRECKLES?

"What does the sign say?” asked Pippi. She couldn’t read very well because she didn’t want to go to school as other children did.

"It says, ‘Do you suffer from freckles?’” said Annika. 

"Does it indeed?” said Pippi thoughtfully. “Well, a civil question deserves a civil answer. Let’s go in.” She opened the door and entered the shop, closely followed by Tommy and Annika. An elderly lady stood back of the counter. Pippi went right up to her. “No!” she said decidedly. 

"What is it you want?” asked the lady.

"No,” said Pippi once more.

"I don’t understand what you mean,” said the lady.

"No, I don’t suffer from freckles,” said Pippi.Then the lady understood, but she took one look at Pippi and burst out,

“But, my dear child, your whole face is covered with freckles!”

"I know it,” said Pippi, “but I don’t suffer from them. I love them. Good morning.” She turned to leave, but when she got to the door she looked back and cried, “But if you should happen to get in any salve that gives people more freckles, then you can send me seven or eight jars.” 

― Astrid LindgrenPippi Longstocking

Thursday 10 April 2014

Blossom Day with LJ... Gambling, Gin and Gordon..


So you know when you have one of those perfect London days... I had it on Saturday... I'm not a fan of those "look at my perfect life" blog posts as a rule, they usually shield a multitude of less than truths, in the manner of an Instagram filter. But this day was just lovely, so I'm posting...

It was a late start and by the time me and LJ left our house it was 3.30. Straight to the bookies for our yearly visit to bet on some horses names we liked for the Grand National.

Then a walk through the blossomy streets of SW London.


Before long we needed a respite and decided to make our way to London House in Battersea Square.. Gordon Ramsay's latest venture...

The little bar attached to the restaurant... no reservation you see... is an easy way to spend a Saturday afternoon... It was the first time we'd been there and to be honest we are a little worried about how many times we are going to return and spend money we don't have.


The lights have me lustful and the art is ethereal..


Coffees in... Great coffee


We eagerly awaited the Grand National result


None of my horses came anywhere AS USUAL


Little L picked the second place horse, Balthazar King and so basically we got stuck in to the G&Ts to "Spend her Winnings"


Very, very good ones too... we might have had a few. However, we were putting the world to rights so it's allowed. And if you're going to drink gin.. you might as well drink nice ones...

Then we got a little peckish.. but I didn't see our budget running to Gordon today.. despite the win and also as nice as the pretty waiters are, we may have needed a reservation... Will be returning with more pennies though for a proper meal and post...

So, we strolled to the other side of Battersea and straight into the doorway of another restaurant that I'd never been to: The Butcher and Grill. An interesting concept of a butcher's, a shop, a cafe in the day and a restaurant and bar at night serving very good steak and red wine...

Our table was by the shelves..


Which excited my new found chefness...



It was reallly veryyyy good.. Great steak, tasty greens and crunchy chips.. Obviously, I had Bearnaise sauce too..


Will definitely be going back there...

After supper we popped for another glass of red to at our local to finish off the night and we were in bed before midnight. Feeling satiated and slightly middle aged.. and what... Sometimes, aged 28, a jagerbomb an hour is not what one needs...

London House
7-9 Battersea Square
Battersea Village
London
SW11 3RA
T: 020 7592 8545
londonhouse@gordonramsay.com

www.gordonramsay.com/london-house

 The Butcher & Grill
39-41 Parkgate Road
Battersea, London
SW11 4NP
T: 020 7924 3999
www.thebutcherandgrill.com

Flights of Fame: Birdland at the Royal Court


   
"Do you want to go and see 'A piercing new play looking at empathy, money and fame' - Birdland, it is at the Royal Court newish... I know it's a Monday but..."

It's fair to say our seats were pretty far back, but when you go online for the £10.00 day release tickets for a new play at 9.07 instead of dead on 9.00, that is loath to happen. Theatre-friend D and I were reasonably early and she was so suntanned in the greyness of rainy Sloane Square that I felt positively cement coloured next to her.

"India good was it..Let's get some wine... 
Also, I can't believe Peaches Geldof has just died, I nearly threw up on the way here. It's just so terrible."

"I looked after her dog once you know.. When I worked for that designer."

"I know.. Can you move under the alcove please it's raining quite a bit now... Isn't it weird that we feel so sad about it when we didn't even know her. I cried a bit and I felt guilty for crying, cos we don't like know her... Can I have my lighter back please"

This was how are evening started. Grey and morose. I knew it wouldn't be a cheery one either "the perils of fame" having been bandied around a bit in reference to Birdland. To be honest none of the plays I go to see seem to be that cheerful. The man behind the bar told us the set was impressive, though.. that was something. Indeed our seats were so far back and with both of us being blind as bats you see. It was like a Van Gough version.

"That's why we can't book last minute.. we're too vain to carry our specs around all the time..."


D's blinder than me...but we could make out the impressive stage from the start, all water - a sort of moat actually, blue lighting and upright wooden structures and I could make out the faces of the "company" of characters. You know thems... all in sunglasses and trendy outfits and signifying the mood around the lead character. Such a modern narrative tool but actually Shakespeare did it OK.


 And how did I not know Andrew Scott was playing the lead... I am such a fan of his acting and his weird, weird voice and face. Famous as Moriarty in Sherlock opposite beautiful Benedict and I remember him in the Hour too, but really he's a prolific theatre actor. He's got such a way with being evil and twisting his face and body up... such a physicality about him..


The play tells the tale of the last week of a very famous rockstar's third tour. Fame has already gripped this guy, there's no going back. He's bored, cruel, jumpy and slightly insane.

 

He treats money like water, he boredly copulates with any female that he tosses his eyes at.. Including his best friend's girlfriend who then kills herself. He takes a member of the female hotel staff from Moscow to Paris because he can.


His character is really very hard to sympathise with. Wired that he is. Consumed by fame that he is.

He hates the fame. Hates not knowing he is. Hates the photos and yet he loves it too. Loves his own power.


In a conversation with his father who's asking him for money he is shocked over he value of £1000.00 to his father. It's not uncharted territory.

Everything can be quantified. All worth can be quantified. Artistic worth. Human worth. Material worth. Everything. Some food is simply better than other food. Isn’t it? Some clothes are better than other clothes. Aren’t they?” - Paul

Of course he ends up in a sticky end.. Sleeping with a minor, facing jail time, owing his record company millions and do unable to quit.


What is incredible is both the acting of Andrew Scott and the wonderful set. As the perils of fame suck Paul further into its clutches, the stage submerges, tilted into the surrounding water.

Other cast members are ghostly as if unreal and we live through his manic mind, never sure if what we believe to be happening actually is.


The physicality that Scott displays as Paul is all part of it as well, jerkily dancing throughout. The bird that he is, pulled by the winds of fame like a dark Icarus, too close to the desired prize, or the black swan whose lost all memory of the white.


Overall I would recommend this play to anyone who is interested in the nuances of fame or who wants to see an excitingly staged production with a lead actor that takes up the stage with his entire physical presence. Drugs, sex, ghosts, suicide, paedophilia, blackmail, loneliness it has it all. Who'd want that. 


It wasn't cheerful is for sure. We sat soggily in the bar next door after the performance, not perky, watching Sloane Square go home, thankful we weren't famous. 

Birdland
Written by Simon Stephens
Directed by Carrie Cracknell
3 April - 31 May

at

The Royal Court
50-51 Sloane Square
London
SW1W 8AS
020 7565 5000

www.royalcourttheatre.com

Images (c) Richard H. Smith
Video (c) The Royal Court

Tuesday 8 April 2014

50 Happy Days


So... apparently on Friday I was dead on the halfway mark of my #100HappyDays project... I sort of forgot where I was for a while, though I haven't missed one day.

When I started the project I meant to write weekly updates about what had made me appreciate the happy things that week. Then life and other posts sort of took over... 


After a little summary recap, I have realised an embarrassingly large number of posts show food - mostly my cooking though for groups of people - which I'm maintaining is mostly about the people and the hosting.

The rest either involve friends and alcohol blogs, I've written, or the arts. Nothing too shocking there. Occasionally, there is the odd thing that has clearly been frantically racked from a bad day; a quote to lift, a picture of my bed..


For the second fifty days, I hope to perhaps branch out of the safety of what definitely makes me happy and see more. 

Meanwhile here's a few of my #100HappyDays so far....


Day 1 was Valentine's...


A couple of walks n' nature...


With family and friends...


Endless bar shots..




Quotes, art and blog posts





And cooking...



 All for family and friends and because I now love cooking.. since Febresolutions 

But mostly it's just the people that make me happy...


Here's to the next 50 days...

Follow my #100HappyDays on Instagram @wordyloveslots