Art is Magic

Last week it was my birthday and one of my presents was a book, Art Is Magic by Jeremy Deller. Jeremy is my favourite living artist. I first became aware of him about twelve years ago. I saw him interviewed on the telly, not knowing who he was, and I really liked what he was saying. His ideas about art and how he made art seemed very much in line with my thinking and the way I approached my art. It made me want to find out much more about his work. I’ve since visited quite a number of his exhibitions and enjoyed every one of them.

I don’t do reviews really, I’m pretty useless at it when I try. The trouble is I’m fairly illiterate but also it’s to do with the way I think. I think mostly in feelings and images, so I’ll let Jeremy’s words from the book speak instead:

“Chapter 4 

It’s time to lose control

To some extent art is an experiment, where you introduce two elements together and then stand back and see what transpires, ‘this plus this equals, what?’. Often, I look to the public to improve the work by taking it in directions that I was not expecting. In public, you can lose control of the work… “

I really like this idea of art having a life of its own. Many people can’t really grasp this notion. Then there’s:

“Chapter 6 

Don’t fuck with bats”

A real slogan for our times.

Art is magic. Art is fucking magic. Go out and get yourself a piece of the action. Everyone is a special kind of artist, and, remember kids, don’t fuck with bats!

Nature’s Wonderland

One thing that I’ve always been thankful for was growing up in a household where books were always there. I think that was mostly down to my mother's influence. Books meant learning and learning meant advancement. Mother also made sure we were all library members from a very early age. I am grateful for books being in my life.

I only own one book from my early childhood. I think it was a hand-me-down. I had an uncle who was only seven years older than me and it probably belonged to him. The book is called Nature’s Wonderland and dealt with an eclectic mix of what it considered to be the wonders of the natural universe. There’s no date or price on it, but judging by the quality and the style of the few colour pages, I would put at early/mid fifties.

As a young boy it fascinated me with what truly were wonders as far as I was concerned. It introduced me to the Northern Lights, the giant redwood tree, stalactites and stalagmites, and things in outer space. My interest in space travel and astronomy were fired at an early age and have never gone away. All exciting stuff for a lad whose world was a council estate in a Suffolk market town.I guess that’s why I’ve hung on to it all my life. I still occasionally look through it with fond memories even now. It’s a bit battered and has generally been mistreated over the years but I try to take care of it these days. In monetary terms it’s worth very little which makes it all the more valuable to me.

George Orwell - Notes on Nationalism

Notes on Nationalism by George Orwell (Penguin Modern)

'The general uncertainty as to what is really happening makes it easier to cling to lunatic beliefs'
Biting and timeless reflections on patriotism, prejudice and power, from the man who wrote about his nation better than anyone.

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Ex Libris

On another positive note I’ve started to read again. It’s mostly poetry and books of essays etc. Short reads. But it’s a start. It feels good.

I’ve returned to borrowing books from the library. I’d forgotten how I like the serendipitous nature of, what I imagine to be, other peoples bookmarks that one comes across from time to time in library books. On borrowing books from our library one gets a printed receipt. It contains the book title and the date it is due back. I tend to use these receipts as my bookmark and it seems that others do too judging by how often I find them tucked in books. It’s wonderful seeing what, often incongruous selections people have made; a bit like looking in other people’s trolleys at supermarkets and contemplating their lifestyles.

I currently have on loan an interesting book which is predominantly about the R&B music scene on the legendary Eel Pie Island, a collection of essays entitled, The British Beat Explosion/Rock ‘N’ Roll Island. It’s a damned fine read, I’d recommend it. In it I found the receipt below:

What kind of person reads stuff about Mexican drug cartels, British R&B and Chas & Dave? I’d love to meet such a person. Perhaps only once. But they are intriguing indeed!

Blair

A hero of the thinking left George Orwell is probably my favourite author. He certainly wrote my favourite book of all time. Many think that 1984, written in 1948, was about the then future. A prophecy. I suppose to a certain degree it was but I fear many people tend to take it too literally. But in essence it is simply a really great love story, and on a number of levels.

So many numpties on the right brand the book as an attack purely on Stalinism. It isn’t of course, but it suits their own simplistic prejudices. It is a damning attack on all totalitarianism whether it be on the right or the’ left’*, or from capital.

There’s a certain irony in that the fodder that watch Big Brother on the telly are like the proles that fed on the pappy escapist novels churned out by the Ingsoc state machine. The fact that they are also mostly too ignorant to understand where the term ‘Big Brother’ comes from just reinforces Orwell’s prophecy and how it has truly come to pass.

If you’ve never read 1984 I suggest you bloody well read it now.

*actually totalitarianism by its very nature can only ever be right-wing. Stalin was a right-winger. A left-wing government can only ever be democratic. If it is not then it isn’t left-wing; pure and simple.

It’s Not Me, It’s You

Jon Richardson’s book

As readers of this blog possibly know I’m a big fan of Jon Richardson. He has to be one of the funniest comedians performing in the UK today. His comedy is intelligent, complex, subtle and gentle but angry. His comedy tends to be based on what he sees as his character traits, his failings and the failings and irritating habits of others.

Subtitled ‘Impossible perfectionist seeks very very very tidy woman’ this book is about Jon’s foibles and his self-styled failure to find a mate. It is hard to review this book without giving too much of the content away, and as part of its charm is not knowing where it is going to lead I wouldn’t want to reveal too much. This book contains some romance, some triumphs and a lot of very funny bits; my favourite being an incident on a train with a twat on a mobile phone. I read this book mostly on train journeys and I could not stop myself laughing out on many an occasion.

I like Jon’s comedy because I identify with so many of his beliefs and so many of the ways he does things. He is blessed with the knowledge of how things should be done, a knowledge that precious few of us are blessed with. Knowledge like how a toilet roll should be hung on its holder. Things like this should be obvious but it is surprising how so many people get so much wrong.