Hello everyone, did you think I'd fallen off the edge of a cliff? or secretly hoped so? Not that I give a hoot of course. It's been a very busy few months and whilst the blog has had a summer sabbatical, rather unfortunately I have not. With changing jobs, getting the builders in and spending a fortune on Polly Morgan pieces of art, including some dead mouse that I loved from the surreal Brick Lane Art Car Boot Fair. I drag unsuspecting Sloanes to this fair every year and they never know what the hell has hit them so much so that refuge has to be taken in a pot of tea and a warm scone at Albion afterwards.
Well it has been a full on few months, aside from two fantastic weeks in the South of France in the prettiest village in the world, just outside of St Tropez, which I am not going to tell you the name of just yet. Certainly haven't been idle and whilst pen and paper at times were not forced upon you dear reader, a thousand blogs ran through my mind and the topics varying widly according to time and mood. Life has been a little bit like the new Sarah Jessica Parker movie, I Don't Know How She Does It, although less saccharine and rather less lacklustre than the performance by all the guests, aside from the wonderfully foul mouthed Adele, on last night's average Jonathan Ross show on ITV1, bring back the old show, however, time will tell and hopefully characters will not keep dying off in time to appear on the show.
Since I wrote my last post, so many things have happened that have changed the world as we know it and we are edging, if not already 'in' the New Austerity. The bankers are quiet for the time being, not quite understanding the impact that is ahead of them in the markets. It seems that the whole of the developed western world is bankrupt and the developing world is forging ahead at a rate of noughts. That's colonial karma for you. I myself have started to embrace austerity. Firstly, by going to Eight Over Eight for Saturday lunch which is offering 40% off. It's a start. The forever wonderful Lucien Freud died recently. If only I had the courage to have spoken to him when I was 18 at the decadent ball held at Longleat. When I turned around after escaping to one end of the quieter side of the tent to have five minutes quiet gossiping with my naughty friend Caroline, he was sitting staring at me with intent. Me being naive and into daft looking young men at the time, I got scared and ran away. I could've been gracing the Tate walls by now, made a fortune and everyone would've known the location of my secret mole.
The riots of August stopped London in its tracks for a few days and even David Cameron who loves a holiday had to race back from the Tuscan sunshine. Nevertheless, at least he managed to end his summer in the rain in Cornwall, confident that he had tackled Gaddafi to the ground and being cocky of the fact that Britain had been one of the first to order strikes in Libya. Luckily, this smugness was short lived, as live on air during the eversible Today programme on Radio 4, Evan Davis challenged the PM, comparing the rioters with the antics of D.C's beloved club The Bullingdon, captured in true violent and hotel smashing style in Laura Wade's play Posh at The Royal Court, which played last year and was an unmissable treat and would definitely see it again when it transfers to the West End at hopefully some point not too far in the future. D.C. was momentarily put off his stride and we all smiled as we drove to work.
Since I last wrote, aside from the Duchess of Cambridge getting ever thinner, before she busts out with the baby bump, Ai Weiwei has been released from captivity and has been censored this week from the Chinese edition of Newsweek. I am a turn of this year recent subscriber to Newsweek. It was due to the fact that it has been taken over by the fabulous Tina Brown. However, I find it rather interesting and well written and worth a gander, specially good footage on old sexpot DSK and old ginger nut Rebekah 'I'm not Murdoch's long lost daughter' Wade. Poor old Ai has taken a literal beating and who knows what the future holds, although there was talk he was moving to Berlin to become a University lecturer. Chinese censors have removed pages of Newsweek magazine containing an essay by Ai Weiwei in which the country's most famous dissenting artist slams the repressive environment in Beijing and criticises the police and the legal system.
"Beijing is a nightmare. A constant nightmare," Mr Ai writes in the essay, that originally appeared on the Newsweek website and was then reprinted in the 5 September issue of the US magazine. It has left many wondering what Mr Ai is planning to do now, as the article seems to fly in the face of his bail conditions, imposed on his release on 22 June after 81 days in custody for alleged tax evasion, and sets him on a collision course with the authorities. Under the terms of his bail, he was required not to use social media, speak to foreign media or leave Beijing. Human rights activists believe the tax charges were trumped up to end to his online campaigns against the Communist Party. He produced a very moving piece at the Tate Modern with the sunflowers seeds and an even more interesting short documentary on how a whole Chinese town was employed to create the seeds. Even my mother who has little interest in contemporary art, aside from queing for hours in Bristol to see the Banksy exhibition found Mr Weiwei fascinating.
And so the footage of 9/11 is being revamped and re-reported on every channel now until Friday's big day. I remember it well, having just stepped off a plain from Turkey very early that morning, and after having a nap at home, switching on the TV to wonder what the hell was going on. I was also dumped the day after the disaster and managed to lose over half a stone that week with the distress, so I remember the disaster fully as I had experienced two in one week. Granta has an amazing talk on Friday at The Frontline Club to discuss the impact of 9/11 ten years on. Their new issue is dedicated to conjuring up the complexity and sorrow of life since the fateful day and the stories cover a street vendor in Tunisia, an American Marine going home and a signals operator on a North Korean fishing trawler. If you want to be taken from the battlefields of Afghanistan to the streets of Mogadishu and Toronto, there could be worse books to read on the subject and worth supporting this ecletic publisher, http://www.granta.com/
During the last Bank Holiday of the Year until Christmas, I took myself off to the now passée climes of the Kings Road with friends to see Pedro Almodavar's, The Skin I Live In at the Curzon. The best parts of the King's Road these days are of course Sloane Square itself and the run of shops opposite Peter Jones, also parts of the Duke of York's Square and of course John Sandoe's bookshop. The road then turns into anywhere's ville, although the streets off that stretch of the King's Road are a great place to live and the properties charming. The KR becomes interesting again when you reach the junction of Old Church Street and beyond and a real smartening up of the area is happening close to Beaufort Street with a new Triyoga centre opened up, although I don't want to kick my asanas with my clients and skid in each other's puddles of sweat from a hundred downward dogs. As a half Spanish person, I can safely say without fear of being seen as a rude xenophobic, that La piel que habito was a load of Spanish surreal nonsense. Antonio Banderas did look fantastic and played the part of the intense plastic surgeon very well. There is a twist of course and I won't spoil it here, however, it lacks the humour of many of Almodavar's other films and is good rather than great. Go see it, but be warned, give it the 4-5 stars that the newspapers have given the film, not so sure. Yes he creates a monster, yes someone dies and yes, I did go in my gym kit.
Aside from above, 10 other things I read, did and encountered this week that may be of interest, or maybe you would prefer me to shut up and you can go back to reading your new Heat magazine:
1. Tickets for Ruby Wax's performance of 'Losing It' next week, can't wait;
2. Enjoying everyone's favourite alledged hypocrite Polly Toynbee: http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b013qz77/The_Class_Ceiling_Episode_1/
3. Jivamukti Yoga in Kensal Road, still my favourite way to exercise, even though the Evening Standard write up was somewhat dull and did not capture the spirit of the place, just look at Madonna looking amazing at Venice Film Festival to see that yoga works & keeps you young (as well as no office job & Botox of course);
4. Loving the fact that Gadaffi's compound when raided, was found with an armful of the FT's weekend How to Spend It Magazines, well thumbed and obviously well read;
5. Even better than the Wolseley, brunch at Hélène Darroze at The Connaught;
6. Who knew that Dominic West could play such a convincing serial killer: Appropriate Adult - Fred West, starting this evening on ITV1;
7. Loving Dr Choy in Wimpole Street, the only person so far that seems to have 'so-far' cured my asthma through allergy testing via vitamins & diet;
8. Tickets already booked for The National Gallery's crush to death exhibition of Leonardo Da Vinci - Painter at The Court of Milan in November;
9. Resisting going but must check it out - One New Change shopping centre next to St Paul's Cathedral.
10. Bugger the winter, I hate it, Joseph coat or not. Wish I could hang out at Club 55 all year round, dreaming about the dover sole and the hot guy on holiday with his mother!
No comments:
Post a Comment