All Good Things Are Wild and Free

Elephant With Exploding Dust, Amboseli, 2004

A few weeks ago I discovered Nick Brandt. He is a wildlife photographer, but not the kind you are thinking of. These are not the journalistic, National Geographic-esque shots typical of magazines. No, these are the kind that you stop to stare at in a gallery, or in my case, the internet, and see something else.


My wanderlust is often ignited by photography, and Brandt’s lovely images of East Africa certainly did the trick. They make “buy awesome medium-format camera, then go to Africa and photograph wild animals up close without any experience, preferably avoiding attacks” move up at least 8 spaces on my to-do list.

Arieta Antiques

When I was a kid I liked to break things. Drop things from heights, drop thing from heights on other things, throw them against trees, walls, our driveway. I once drove my pedal go-kart into a bonfire to see what would happen. Unsurprisingly it melted, and I didn't get a new one. It wasn't that I was an angry kid, or even particularly unruly, but I guess most things just looked better broken. On my parents belief that doing what you love and what you're best at will take care of everything else, I plotted my course into adulthood. Vocations I seriously considered from an early age included stuntman, demolitions expert and a stock car racer. Lucky for all of us then that my love of carnage was just a phase.

But for some, those early interests and explorations don't die out or fade away. Sometimes a gut feeling or an instinct for what you enjoy really is all you need. That certainly seems to have been the case for Valerie Arieta.

Back to Work

Back to Work by Billy Clark

Nobody can argue that working in an office and sitting in a chair for nine hours is great fun, providing a stimulating and rewarding experience for the brain. However, despite these mental benefits, little attention is devoted to the physical consequences of this sit-down situation.

Inspired by a dinner table conversation about evolution, whereby an office worker evolves into the perfect employee, with his spine fused to a swivel chair, this illustration will be up for auction at the NUCA in Norwich.

The annual fundraising exhibition will feature works by both professional and aspiring illustrators, including Quentin Blake and the weird genius behind the Where's Wally books.

The exhibition runs from Friday 25th March to Wednesday 30th March. The Auction takes place on Tuesday the 29th. If you're in the area, it should be well worth a look.

For more information, visit the NUCA website or click here. 

Sideshow Stories: a Review

In this modern era of 24 hour, face-pressed-up-against-a-screen living, it is as inevitable as it is hypocritical that we often find ourselves yearning for integrity, wholesomeness, and "down-to-earth" values. And as the approach of popular media becomes ever more patronizing and simple-minded, those precious nuggets of originality and intelligence seem harder to sift out.
It is therefore with great admiration and appreciation that I write this review of Sideshow Stories, a new exhibition at The Social on Little Portland Street.

Combining the art of painter Jason Butler, and the words of poet Will Burns, Sideshow Stories is an appraisal of a time largely before modern "political correctness", when Britain's show-business industry was capitalising on a popular curiosity for the alien and the exotic, the freaks and weirdos of society. As odd and unique as the characters it details, this exhibition is a sight for bored eyes.

Hillbilly Heaven: Mike Nelson's Coral Reef

From The Cosmic Legend
of the Uroboros Serpent, 2001

Today I saw a downright spooky art installation at Tate Britain; I understand that it's been in existence for a while (since 2000), but it may be worth a mention anyhow. The work in question is Mike Nelson's 'The Coral Reef', which won the artist a Turner prize nomination in 2001.

Now, I'm not generally a fan of this kind of thing, but I quite enjoyed wandering around this labyrinth of stinky cramped corridors and crusty doors; for those who haven't seen it, it's sort of like being in a movie - 'No Country for Old Men' perhaps, or the remake of 'The Hills Have Eyes'. You go through the first door, thinking that you've accidentally walked into a fire exit - and you find a strange little smelly room with a 1960s tv, bar stools and old, mangy magazines. Basically you continue in this way, finding in each room something that will give you the heebie jeebies: a grubby clown mask or stained sleeping bag. My favourite was a Mexian-themed parlour, equipped with an image of sombrero-wearing men and a large cactus.

'Secrets' commission for Storehouse Magazine, 2010, issue 3

Narrow Escape From Las Vegas, Nevada.

20:50 - A Review (sort of)

I thought I would write a bit about Richard Wilson's oil exhibit, as seen in the Saatchi gallery. Having spent many, many hours inside the installation, I have been able to gauge the variety of reactions from visitors; the dim individuals who walk in, look puzzled and turn around, asking 'is the Richard Wilson finished then?' That one always throws me. 'This.. this is the Richard Wilson', I stutter, pointing emphatically at the reeking square of oil before me. Can they not see it?

California Dreamin'

Y'all pasty English folks could use a bit of colour.