OT: Last Friday in Newcastle - a travelogue
Rik Shepherd
Anyway, there we are on Friday morning, getting out of the taxi at Stockport
with a bare 40 minutes before our train (hey, one of Carol's colleagues took
more than an hour doing the same journey earlier in the week. A fire
involving potentially exploding gas tanks in a residential area might have
something to do with that. And she was further delayed by horses on the
track later.). We go to get a coffee, meet Carol's boss in the cafe, talk to
her for a bit, then scurry round the end of the station buildings to get to
the right platform. And soon the train to Sheffield arrives, and we get on.
Slightly unfortunately we're not the only people who've thought of this. We
do get seats, but the foot space isn't helped by a snowboarder opposite
(well, he was reading Snowboarder Weekly or something) insisting on keeping
his backpack under the table. At Sheffield we jump train, and after a few
minutes or so a Virgin train to Newcastle turns up as expected and we
clamber aboard. Bizarrely for Virgin, we somehow get seats with adequate leg
room. The age of miracles is upon us, apparently.
We variously read, doodle, slumber and gawp out of the window our way to
Newcastle, and arrive a few minutes later than we're meant to just after
11am. A few minutes later, we stagger in to the Copthorne Hotel, having
slightly underestimated the effect of gravity on luggage when going down
steep steps. Last time we booked here, Expedia forgot to tell them we'd
booked; this time we booked via their own website so they have to let us in.
Of course, the room isn't ready, but we sign all the forms and leave our
luggage with the concierge.
We scurry along the quayside in the general direction of the other end. It's
a nice day; very bright light, pure blue cloudless sky, low sun casting
sharp shadows. It's warmer than we expected, until we're not in the direct
sunlight. We consider going to the Laing for soup, but as our real target,
the Baltic, has a cafe we decide we'll see what they've got to offer. We
have a vegetable soup each (which come with not-remotely-fresh buns), a
shallot scone, which would have been much better if it had been warm, and
some decent coffee.
We scamper out to watch the Millennium Bridge fall over to let a patrol boat
of the Yorkshire Royal Naval Unit (not the snappiest unit name, but the
boat, HMS Explorer is an Archer class patrol boat used by university naval
training units unless the Navy's been invited to a war, so I guess Yorkshire
has students who want to be sailors) chug up to HMS Calliope, the Naval
Reserve training place.
When the Bridge has settled back into place, we decide it's time to go and
see Spank The Monkey at the Baltic Arts Centre. Now, this is actually one of
the reasons we're in Newcastle. The pre-exhibition write-up gave us the
impression that this was going to be an interesting display by artists on
the cusp between gallery based art and street art, and we knew we liked two
of the exhibitors - Swoon from NYC and Os Gemeos from Brazil - already. Only
one thing is mildly worrying in advance - there's a working skateboard ramp
as part of the exhibition, but skateboarders have to apply to use it in
advance, and must make sure they arrive at the correct time. This doesn't
make it look like the Baltic are completely embracing the anarchy of the
urban street scene that's supposed to be central to the exhibition.
[technical note: the next section is really an extended rant mostly being
rude about the Baltic's ability to organise an exhibition in a gallery, or a
piss up in a brewery]
Anyway, we go in. On the one hand, we're pleased to see some of Swoon's
paper cutouts pasted up on the glass of the lift shafts behind the
information desk; on the other hand we're narked to be told that photography
isn't allowed in the galleries (on the third hand, we rapidly realise that
there's very little to photograph...) After looking at the Swoons - and
alarming the information lady, who may not be used to people examining
things behind her desk - we have a look at the ground floor gallery, where
there's an exhibition by Chiho Aoshima. This is mildly diverting; it's all
very detailed and anime influenced: enormous eyed pale women floating around
jungles or causing tidal waves by being made out of fire, as you do, but it
all looks rather computer generated, which it is. Best bit is probably a
five minute animation that starts in a city with wobbly skyscrapers, pulls
out through jungle, and is spoilt by big eyed and badly animated fairies at
the very end. (New Yorkers might have noticed some of this at Union Square
subway in 2005, and Londoners have got until January to see some at
Gloucester Road tube).
We take the lift up to level 4 to see the first part of the Spank the Monkey
shenanigans. There's the skateboard ramp, which doesn't look very giant to
me and isn't being used because it's not one of the two hours of the day it
can be skated on. There's a van on its side, with a lot of sixtiesish op-art
and a bank of TVs showing geometric animations looping (luckily, when the
van tipped over as part of the gritty urban street life it's presumably
representing, all the TVs fell over so that they were the right side up for
normal viewing. Either that or they were on end in the van before. And the
fact that that's the only thing I really notice sort of indicates that
whatever the installation is meant to do, it isn't doing it. Pah). Someone
has stuck what appears to be a lot of newspapers on the supporting pillars
holding the roof up, but they're so high you'd need binoculars or a jetpack
to actually see them.
Quickly becoming bored with level 4 we scamper up the stairwell to the level
5 viewing gallery. Actually, we try to take the lift, but the level 5 button
isn't working. The stairwell is a little awful, because it's been filled
with art; someone got a whole bunch of John Lennon fans to sing the whole of
the first Lennon/Ono album, filmed them and recorded their singing (not the
tracks they're listening to), then played them back on a series of screens
in the Baltic stairwell. When we get up to level 5 we find that they've
locked the door of the observation platform, presumably because they're in
the process of removing one of the pieces by someone called Invader who'd
put a space invader design on the window. Quite why that means they need to
close the observation room I'm not sure, but on previous visits they've
closed it to stop people being able to see a new exhibition being installed
in level 4, so it's probably part of Baltic's fear that people might see art
being developed. Or something. So we scurry back down to 4, and go out onto
the open viewing platform. And when we've had enough viewing, we go down to
level 3, to see the rest of the Spanking the Monkey exhibition.
Level 3 is a bit better than level 4, but it is obvious that we've
tragically mistaken what the exhibition was about: we were expecting
graffiti in a gallery (as in Urbis' Ill Communication shows); we were given
art influenced by 'urban' themes, or street artists straightjacketed into
proper picture frames (the one piece by Banksy bears no resemblance to his
famous work). And by 'urban themes' Baltic mostly seem to mean big eyed
Japanese anime, or, in the special parental advisory section Japanese porno
polaroids. There are some good points, though: Os Gemeos have one of their
big square heads you can walk into, with a bizarre bedsit inside; there's a
nice animation about a little Japanese girl having her mobile stolen by a
fantasy panda (we suspect it's actually an advert for Louis Voutin
handbags); a poster text about buying posters which is funny in a Mojo-Jojo
manner; and some excellent cartoon cityscapes by Kozyndan, who have actually
gone to the bother of doing one specially of the Quayside, which is nice.
We go down to level 2 to look at the special exhibition revealing the roots
of Keith Haring's early work. As we go round the wrong way, it's only when
we've finished that we realize that 90% of the exhibition is just framed
enlargements of the other 10%, and that other 10% is just three sheets of
doodles for an early magazine commission. On the other hand, we've been
privileged enough to see some Baltic folk making coffee in their coffee
area. Bizarrely, there's a big orange wall in the middle of level 2. It's
got a doorway in it. Six feet beyond the wall is a line with "Baltic Staff
only beyond this line" written on it. What madness is this? If I was an
rugged urban artist I'd do one of the urban intervention the Baltic keeps
wittering about and get a flash mob to line up exactly along the line and
see how long we could stare at the coffee machines before someone called
security.
When we were in the cafe Carol noticed a sign claiming she could text a
keyword and get directions to a StM installation outside the gallery. She
did this, and got directions to a bar on the quayside. She asks at the desk
if there are other keywords to be texted, and whether they form a trail
(see, we're trying to be involved here). The information lady doesn't know.
She rings people. And some more people. While Carol is running interference,
I have time to take a very few pictures of the Swoon pieces around the lifts
(in fact, I get to go up in one lift, and down in another); when I get back
to the desk we've established that (a) no-one is quite sure how the
messaging lark is supposed to work and that (b) while the exhibition
finishes on Jan 7th, some of the external works in Newcastle and Gateshead
have already been removed. They don't know which ones have gone, though the
information lady can tell us the ones at Jesmond Metro are there as she goes
past them on the way to work.
Before going out into the dusk we spend some time in the shop. This is the
least irritating part of Baltic.
[okay, I've finished complaining about the Baltic now]
So we decide that it might be an idea to check in at the hotel, and set out
along the Quayside. On the way we notice that there is absolutely nothing
remotely street art near Flynn's Bar, that the Sage has a sort of Christmas
tree arrangement of lights on its side, and that there's a disco light
operating from the Swing Bridge.
We get our keys and luggage from reception, and go an unpack. Around 6pm we
decide we're rested enough to set off out for the evening. Now, we were
originally going to do this trip nearer to my birthday, as a visit to the
Baltic, but we found out about the Glow Illuminations, in which lights are
going to be shone on Newcastle and Gateshead in a mildly artistic manner.
This only runs for two weekends, so our priorities shifted.
We scamper along the quay and visit the TI in the old Guildhall. Here we
pick up a proper route map to replace the printed out PDF we came with, and
also get our Vampire Rabbit Trail map, and a set of Vampire Rabbit stickers.
Technically this is for children, but we've noticed that if an artistic
thing has something for kids, the kids stuff is usually more entertaining.
Anyway, the Vampire Rabbit is on the same route as the Glow Trail. Why a
vampire rabbit, you might wonder? Because there's a building behind
Newcastle cathedral which has a carving of a bigger than life rabbit
crouching over the lintel. It's got massive incisors, long claws and bulging
eyes, and it's been painted grey and red. Excellent choice for a children's
entertainment. The idea of the VR trail is that there are a number of images
of the Rabbit projected along the Glow trail; eager throngs of children will
rush around Newcastle looking for vampire bunnies, and will put a little
sticker in the right place on their maps, send the maps in, and the first
correct entry out of a hat will win something.
So we leave the Guildhall and set off in search of light art and vorpal
bunnies. On the other side of the Guildhall we see Ugo Rondinone's 'Dog Days
Are Over' which plays with the boundaries of fiction and reality by being an
arch of rainbow letters reading 'Dog Days Are Over'. Yes. Heading up the
street and the slope we come to No 1 Queen Street, a wedge shaped end
building which is notable only for having an illumination of the Vampire
Rabbit grinning down at us from the first floor. Carol carefully puts a
sticker on our route map.
We pause for a moment in the courtyard of Martha's Bar at the Vermont Hotel
to look at and listen to Claire Davis' 'Wonderland 2006' which is inspired
by nanotechnology (it says here) but looks like a series of coloured lines
creeping slowly across a black screen, while a small tent emits unpleasant
grinding noises, which can't have been that pleasant for the bloke who
seemed to be stuck guarding it (especially as all anyone wanted to know was
'Is there anything in the tent?'). On the other side of the road, we spot a
clutch of VRs. Then we trudge up the Side, passing the tapas place we're
planning to eat at tomorrow, to the Black Tower and the Castle Keep, all
that's left of the original new castle (there's probably a reason why
Victorian railway engineers liked building over medieval castles). The Black
Tower has lots of lights on inside, the keep is floodlit in pinky-purple,
and there inside of the arches of the viaduct that goes through the castle
are illuminated in red and multi-coloured strands of light. It's all rather
magical, though we have to rely on a passing car to get enough light to get
a decent MrM picture.
From the keep we wander around the back of the cathedral (which has a red
illuminated top to its tower) to gaze upon the actual rabbit as it lurks
over its doorway. While we're there we notice that a number of other people
have glow sticks, and find that there's a girl handing them out. Glowing
pinkly (I'm starting to feel there's slightly too much pink around tonight)
we wander down the stairs to Dean Street, head up Grey and onto High Bridge,
at the end of which a car park has been turned into an open air cinema for
the night. They're showing a rather nice and short animation called Tyger in
which William Blake's Tyger wanders around a city causing humans to turn
into monkeys and fish and other creatures.
Then we scamper back down Grey and Dean Streets (quite easy because of the
angle of the road) and turn up a narrowish ginnel, which takes us through a
couple of underpasses, around the side of the 55 building (Newcastle being
55 degrees north) and beside the railway viaduct. The arches have been
illuminated by the same person as did the arches beside the keep, only the
greater height here allows for a much more effectively display. Then we
glide down Broad Chare onto the Quayside, and scurry along to Flynn's bar.
There's a vacant lot (in the process of being regenerated) next to it, and a
kaleidoscopic dream of images of NewcastleGateshead are being projected onto
a wall. It's called A Window of Wonder and Ronnie Heeps is responsible.
Heeps presumably decided that a mawkishly sung country & western song about
having seen the light would be an excellent audio adjunct to the light show.
Either that, or Flynn's has a limited jukebox and external speakers. Further
along we spot Not For You by Monica Bonvicini, which explores complex issues
of sexuality and control by flashing the words NOT FOR YOU on top of a tall
building in Gateshead.
Ever so slightly bemused we scamper to a doorway in the base of the north
tower of the Tyne Bridge. There's a short pause while we wait for some other
visitors come out and free up some hard hats (they're limiting visitor
numbers simply by only having 20 hard hats). Hard hatted we go up a couple
of flights of steps and into a chamber which has an installation called The
White Night (Paul Moss/Miles Thurlow). This involves a lot of square mirrors
spread out over the floor, with a large box suspended in one corner and a
white lump on a stripy pole. Seen from the right angle and in a mirror the
white lump is suddenly a horses head.
We finish the evenings wandering by going up a really narrow ginnel to see
Graham Gussin's Illumination Rig. When this part of Newcastle was built,
someone started building one end of a raised pedestrian walkway, but never
got round to finishing it. So they put in a temporary wall at the end. And
for the purposes of Glow, there's a bunch of movie spotlights apparently
giving the feeling that you're on a grittily realistic urban movie set.
While we're on this, beneath the Tyne Bridge, it starts raining, which shows
up really nice in all the lighting.
Then it's back to the hotel in the rain, a quick change, and then we're out
to Heartbreak Soup for food. I have herb and raclette croquettes, then fig
tart tartain, and finish with saffron ice cream. Carol has Korean spring
rolls, paprika lamb with something unreadable and wilted pak choi, and sloe
gin & wild berry creme brule.
We wander back along to the hotel, consider the bar, which is full of an
office Christmas party and therefore a little crowded. We go back to our
room and are about to make coffee when the fire alarms go off. Everyone
gathers outside in the cold for a bit, and mutters loudly while the staff
try to go through the list of guests with a megaphone. Interestingly, the
vast majority people our age arrive a little late, but well dressed for
standing next to the Tyne in the cold. Then we're let back in because the
hotel isn't really aflame, and it's time to slumber.
Lynn allen
> Then we're let back in because the
> hotel isn't really aflame, and it's time to slumber.
And I'm exhausted just reading about it. When you guys tourist you
really TOURIST.
But did you take any coals with you? I hear it's traditional. ;)
Lymaree
Joan in GB-W
trip to Newcastle and Brussels last month. Amazingly his trip was only 4
days. How do you even deal with the time change in that short of time.
Anyway the night before Thanksgiving (our Thanksgiving) I was in an Irish
Pub in Madison, WI, and asked the waiter for some suggestions for beer. He
came up with Newcastle Brown Ale, gave me a sample, after which I ordered a
mug. It was a great brew, although dark, it was light in taste.
Joan
"Rik Shepherd" <RikSh...@orangemonkeySCAMPER.fsnet.co.uk> wrote in
message news:4576...@news.bnb-lp.com...
Jenni
RikSh...@orangemonkeySCAMPER.fsnet.co.uk wrote on 12/6/06 10:05 AM:
> Why a
> vampire rabbit, you might wonder? Because there's a building behind
> Newcastle cathedral which has a carving of a bigger than life rabbit
> crouching over the lintel. It's got massive incisors, long claws and bulging
> eyes, and it's been painted grey and red. Excellent choice for a children's
> entertainment.
http://www.amazon.com/Bunnicula-Rabbit-Tale-Mystery-Deborah-Howe/dp/06898065
90/sr=1-1/qid=1165455694/ref=pd_bbs_1/104-9765744-2087956?ie=UTF8&s=books
One of my favorite books as a kid. :-)
Rik Shepherd
>
http://www.amazon.com/Bunnicula-Rabbit-Tale-Mystery-Deborah-Howe/dp/06898065
> 90/sr=1-1/qid=1165455694/ref=pd_bbs_1/104-9765744-2087956?ie=UTF8&s=books
>
> One of my favorite books as a kid. :-)
In a week or so there should be pictures - by day and by night - of the
bunny in question.
Incidentally, did you know that one of the policies suggested for the
deployment of British tank forces during the last, successful, German
advances of the Great War was officially known as the 'Savage Rabbit' ?
Seems to have involved hiding the tanks in camouflaged pits, from which they
could emerge "like savage rabbits" after German infantry had passed.
Jr@Ease
15:05:52 -0000), while Rik Shepherd Pondered, Weak and Weary:
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
>When the Bridge has settled back into place, we decide it's time to go and
>see Spank The Monkey at the Baltic Arts Centre
One question: Does spank the monkey mean the same thing in the UK as
it does in the US?
Just wondering because it seems like an appropriate name for a bunch
of artists to call their exhibition, if they're not too serious. Were
they?
John P
Fran Read
>>When the Bridge has settled back into place, we decide it's time to go and
>>see Spank The Monkey at the Baltic Arts Centre
>
> One question: Does spank the monkey mean the same thing in the UK as
> it does in the US?
> Just wondering because it seems like an appropriate name for a bunch
> of artists to call their exhibition, if they're not too serious. Were
> they?
> John P
Well it means the same thing here as it does in the US. In fact, I didn't
even SEE the word "see" and wondered why on earth they didn't chuck Rik out!
Fran
Cyli
There's a video on the Web of a snake and a rabbit. I believe the
snake attacked the rabbit first, but in the end the rabbit had
frightened the snake so badly that it went straight for a thick bush
and tried to climb it as quickly as possible while the rabbit kept
attacking it. At least once the rabbit gave it a goodly chomping on
the tail.
--
r.bc: vixen
Speaker to squirrels, willow watcher, etc..
Often taunted by trout. Almost entirely harmless. Really.
Luke Croll
<RikSh...@orangemonkeySCAMPER.fsnet.co.uk> wrote:
>[technical note: the next section is really an extended rant mostly being
>rude about the Baltic's ability to organise an exhibition in a gallery, or a
>piss up in a brewery]
I have snipped your enormous travelogue, but I had to make a comment
on the Baltic. I went there one cold day with some friends and
absolutely hated it. There were a couple of things that looked
interesting, but by and large, I thought it was poorly laid out,
poorly organised and as for some of the exhibits.... welll! I guess
I'm not a fan of modern art.
Anyway, it's nice to see that the Baltic is part of the rejuventation
of the Newcastle quayside. I did enjoy walking along that quayside,
visiting the bars and restaurants, etc., whilst I was studying at
Durham. Happy days.
--
Luke Croll
Conference interpreter and translator
http://lukecroll.translatorscafe.com
Luke Croll
<do.not.s...@this.address> wrote:
>Once Upon a Midnight Dreary (actually, it was on Wed, 6 Dec 2006
>15:05:52 -0000), while Rik Shepherd Pondered, Weak and Weary:
>
>-------------------------------------------------------------------------
>>When the Bridge has settled back into place, we decide it's time to go and
>>see Spank The Monkey at the Baltic Arts Centre
>
> One question: Does spank the monkey mean the same thing in the UK as
>it does in the US?
Yes.
Annie C
Interesting. Never knew that.
Uh,oh. That did it.
Now I've a "trojan rabbit" image stuck in my mind.
:-)
Annie
defintiely has been exposed to too much Python over the years...
Mitchy
>Newcastle Brown Ale, gave me a sample, after which I ordered a
>mug. It was a great brew, although dark, it was light in taste.
Ahh Newky Brown, as it's generally know. Lethal stuff, never could get a
taste for it (I went to University in Sunderland, which is next door to
Newcastle).
Now, if you ever want to impress the natives in Newcastle, next time you
order the beer ask for a "bottle of dog" :)
--
Mitchy
Catherine Thompson
OK, that sounds like it's straight out of Monty Python...
"Death awaits you all... with sharp pointy teeth!"
Catherine
Jenni
RikSh...@orangemonkeySCAMPER.fsnet.co.uk wrote on 12/6/06 9:10 PM:
> Jenni wrote
>
>>
> http://www.amazon.com/Bunnicula-Rabbit-Tale-Mystery-Deborah-Howe/dp/06898065
>> 90/sr=1-1/qid=1165455694/ref=pd_bbs_1/104-9765744-2087956?ie=UTF8&s=books
>>
>> One of my favorite books as a kid. :-)
>
> In a week or so there should be pictures - by day and by night - of the
> bunny in question.>>
Oh good. :-)
>
> Incidentally, did you know that one of the policies suggested for the
> deployment of British tank forces during the last, successful, German
> advances of the Great War was officially known as the 'Savage Rabbit' ?
> Seems to have involved hiding the tanks in camouflaged pits, from which they
> could emerge "like savage rabbits" after German infantry had passed.
>
>
No, I did not know that. One learns such esoteric stuff on RAM.
--
Jenni :-)
"Bart, do you want to play John Wilkes Booth, or do you want to act like
a maniac?"
-- The Simpsons
Rik Shepherd
> One question: Does spank the monkey mean the same thing in the UK as
> it does in the US?
Yes. I suspect it's the Baltic showing how hip and streetwise they are, and
that really, deep down, they do so have a sense of humour.
> Just wondering because it seems like an appropriate name for a bunch
> of artists to call their exhibition, if they're not too serious. Were
> they?
I suspect some of them were very serious, and saw the slang meaning of the
exhibition title as illustrating the transgressive nature of their art, and
that others just thought it was mildly amusing.
marika
Joan in GB-W wrote:
> Nice travelogue, Rik.
ok
>I especially liked it as my SIL Adam had a business
> trip to Newcastle and Brussels last month.
i asked about getting off that month.
>Amazingly his trip was only 4
> days.
I can get as much time as I want
> How do you even deal with the time change in that short of time.
>
> Anyway the night before Thanksgiving (our Thanksgiving) I was in an Irish
> Pub in Madison, WI, and asked the waiter for some suggestions for beer.
I would love to go, as I sure would love to see Madison just once
mk5000
" He said he'll
be calling within the next few days.This would be a dream. Two or three
regular gigs per month. The band packed
the bar right up until closing time. Not insanely loud. Totally
exhausting,
but pleasurable. I was tired just imagining the energy
expenditure."--joe sparebedroom
> >