Plaid Cymru

I firstly started a general search for "Institution" to shed light on its definite meaning.

In the dictionary it's described as:

"an organization, establishment, foundation, society, or the like, devoted to the promotion of a particular cause or program, esp. one of a public, educational, or charitable character."

With a clearer sense of the word in mind I begin to think of an institution to research .

With the national elections just been, Wales and the whole of Great Britain have witnessed a great shift in politics over the past week.

For Plaid Cymru it was a great shock as Dafydd Iwan lost his seat to Llais Gwynedd, and the party also fell short of 22 seats needed to win Ceredigion. Elfyn llwyd the party's leader commented: "It's not been good, but it hasn't been a disaster." But it seems that their fate has been awaiting them for a long time since announcing the plans to close primary schools in the county, reducing the number from 106 to 48 schools. Plaid hoped to regain control of Gwynedd whilst changing their original motives and becoming a party for "the whole of Wales." But many felt that they were turning their backs on what the party originally represented and were betraying their roots, and the people who have been voting faithfully for the party for many years. Plaid Cymru's Richard Parry Hughes said, "This is what the people of Gwynedd want, Democracy is a good thing." Many have been weary of the party's motives for months as members of the party were unsure of their motives them selves when asked publicly. Many gave vague remarks on the topic of closing schools, it has been a very sore topic for the past year, but the party has seemingly been sweeping it under the carpet and treating the public quite patronisengly. Llais Gwynedd plans to reorganize primary school education in Gwynedd, but the public will not sieze their protesting until they get what they want. Alex Plows, whose 11-year old daughter Seren attends Ysgol Rhiwlas near Bangor, said: “We were not consulted properly when the council drew up these plans. We want the council to go back to the drawing board. The protests will continue until they do.”

My father brought me an election form to fill A couple of months ago, but i refused to fill it in as I didn't favour any of the two parties.

I cannot remember where I read the article. It might have been The Independent actually, I'm not sure. Anyway the point is, this article stated that painting had been out of fashion for a while, but recently making a dramatic comeback into "what's hip in the art world". It seems that painting has slowly crawled back into the cool category once again. Modern painters have been receiving more attention from the media, painting competitions such as the John Moore prize receiving attention for it's reputation and the fact it's the prize's 50th anniversary, also the cherry on the cake, Peter Doig selling one of his paintings for £6.1m, the most ever paid for a painting by a living European artist. So I ask the question, is painting now "cool"? Are we about to witness a painting revolution?

I was lucky enough to get tickets to see a private exhibition of Doig's collection of paintings at the Tait Britain.

As I walked in through the side entrance of the gallery and first saw the others that were attending the exhibition that night, I felt out of place. Everyone seemed to be important, or had some kind of status in this art community. Then there was myself. But it might have just been paranoia on my part.

The exhibition itself was great. A collection of over 50 paintings, spanning the last two decades of Peter Doig's work. There was a sense of electricity in the half empty rooms of the Tait. It really did seem that these paintings were the "dogs bollocks" of the contemporary art scene. I was very inspired by the work. The next day, I started a painting of my own. I was excited and buzzing after such an exhibition the previous night. I want to be part of the revolution too.

On the Independent website there was an interview with Doig questioning him about his work and modern painting in general. When they asked if 21st century painting has a function, he replied:

"No, not in the way music and film does, it doesn't, I mean you can dance to music. Music can be used for a soundtrack , so it has a function in that sense, beyond itself. So painting doesn't have a function. But I do believe that painting has a purpose."

I was interested to know for how long painting had been bubbling underneath the surface ready to boil over. So, I tracked back copies of "Art Review" as far as December last year to see if painting was as involved as the article claimed it was. It seems to me that it is. A great chunk of the magazine does usually involve painters more than anything else, which was nice to see, but unexpected.

In the February Issue there is an interview between Luc Tuymans and Wilhelm Sasnal discussing modern painting.

"Of course it is very much alive, because people do it." - Luc Tuymans

As I strolled through the studios in university, painting seems to be exciting again. But has much changed? Or is it just that a phew little occurrences over the past phew months have reminded us to appreciate painting, and so we give more of our time to study a painting rather than a quick glance. A lot of painting has and still is considered snooty in my opinion. So many galleries I have visited is polluted by twee, thoughtless paintings giving the whole medium a bad name.

A revolution might be bubbling in the cauldron, but I don't know if thats down to painting drastically changing, or just people's points of views being altered.

www.independent.co.uk

www.tate.org.uk

Peter Doig exhibition

Art Review

www.liverpoolmuseums.org.uk/walker/johnmoores

NME

Three years ago I swore an oath never to purchase a copy of NME ever again. I found it's content to be shallow waffling about what you can and cannot like in music, in order to be "cool". I found the articles to be arrogant and petty, as if they were written by spoilt seventeen year old teens. The magazine really didn't shed light upon anything I wanted to know about in the music industry. Therefore, I stopped buying it.

For the past month or two I have been skipping through NME's pages in news agent's and shock horror, even buying a phew copies to bring home. I haven't gone mad, or suddenly felt the need to know "what's cool". Quite simply, I want to see if anything has changed and figure out what the hell NME's on about.

The copies I browsed through in the shop seemed pretty dull. Every week a lot of the same bands crept up in pointless articles. And nothing really drew me to the magazine apart from the glossy cover.

So, after a phew weeks I decided to buy a phew copies to read at home and give NME a chance to impress.

12th April

I plunge into the glossy pages of the New Musical Express. On the cover, staring at me is a "Stars in their eyes" look a like of Noel Gallager, "New Manc Messiah's" being the title. The article was mediocre, chatting with some gentleman foreseeing him as the next Morrisey or Oasis, even though he looked as if he belonged in a tribute act. I was disappointed. 

Another article in this weeks issue was actually quite compelling. It was an article about Sophie Lancaster who died last August at the age of 20, after she and her boyfriend were brutally attacked by a group of teens for being dressed as  "Goths". It was nice to see NME using their power and influence for good. I was really quite relieved and proud to see such an article in the magazine, even though I felt the tasteless title, "Killing in the name of?" was unnecessary.

Also, some other nothing articles and mentions of Pete Doherty, The Enemy, and  the "Things we Love" list of the week, which included some Gnarls Barkley pint glasses, a drummer t shirt and a limited edition Slash guitar. Eh!

It is NME after all.

19th April

Your weekly pointless jargon on Pete, (I take it that he sells copies).

An article on the Manic Street Preachers, discussing rumors about a new album, nicknamed "The Holy Bible Mark 2". This was a fairly good article to be honest. It's a band I love therefore I was bound to be interested.  But the article did give the reader some  interesting information so, Good article.

Also in this weeks issue was a "chat" with Glastonbury arranger Emily Eavis, questioning her on the slow sales this year. I was instantly drawn due to the fact that I have already purchased my ticket, but the article was rather dull and really didn't shed light on any more than I already knew.

Again, "What we Love", The Enemy, adverts ...Blah Blah Blah!

26th April

This week, "The Future 50." seems alright, perhaps a phew tip offs for the future I thought.

A numb article on the tired Oasis boys, (I'm a fan) but let 'em go please.

A section of "Your letters" surprised me when some of the readers sent in their comments on the "Manc messiahs", sharing  the same views as myself. I am now confused with which audience the magazine is meant for, and who buys it, if so many readers disagree with the points and issues raised. Do the magazine writers, write articles in order to get a reaction from readers, be it positive or negative? The Future fifty is a bit disappointing. It's basically just a list of people and bands whom the magazine claims are innovators for driving music forward, with a little bit of writing by each picture. Not much food for thought really.

To be honest the repetitive structure's getting a bit boring now, so I find myself skipping lines and pages rapidly in order just to get from cover to cover.

2nd May

Bought "Q" instead.

It seems that I'm still confused with The New Musical Express. I still find it a magazine filled with "fads" from cover to cover.

I just don't "get it". Am I just to Old? Who knows, at 21... I might just be "passed it".

NME

Billy Childish

Browsing the internet for Peter Doig jargon, when out of the Wikipedia waffle sprung a name. Billy Childish.
That's a name that rings a bell, I thought. I stumble from my mattress and scramble through a heap of literature, towels and clothes on my standard student dig's floor. There it was, "Big Heart and Balls" Billy Childish, a book i had recently came across in the library. A collection of poems and paintings which I thought were great, but I never really continued my investigation of this "Childish" character.
So (as you do) I "Googled" the name Billy Childish to discover a little about this man and his past.
I was pleasantly surprised.
"He has published more than 40 collections of poetry, written four novels, recorded more than 100 full-length independent LPs of punk, rock'n'roll, and Medway-delta blues and produced more than 2,500 paintings..."

Bloody Hell, Billy's been a busy boy!

Billy Childish, Artist, Musician, Poet and enigma.
"...a cult figure in America, Europe and Japan, Billy Childish is by far the most prolific painter, poet and songwriter of his generation."
I learn he's been a great influence on musicians such as Kurt Cobain, Mudhoney and Jack white from the White Stripes.
Here's a character I want to know more about.

April 8th
I start my research by just trying to gather a bit of general knowledge about the man.
I discover he went to St Martins college of art, where he met Peter Doig, but got expelled in 1982 and lived as an artist on the dole for fifteen years.
I discover about his relationshib with the artist Tracy Emin and his influence on her.
When asked who was the biggest influence on her work, she replied...

"Uhmm... It's not a person really. It was more a time, going to Maidstone College of Art, hanging around with Billy Childish, living by the River Medway."

April 11th
NME- "The most garage and most punk rocker alive."
I learn that he's been in a phew punk acts, and his current band "Musicians of the British Empire" still play regular gigs in tavern to this day.
So I try desperately to find a gig I can attend soon. But no luck.
I'll keep looking.

April 12th
Still in his music background I listen to some of his stuff. Raw as hell bluesy, punk rock and roll.
It seems he had no interest in producing music of "good quality" recordings. He wanted simply to capture the raw energy of punk. I learn he recorded a lot of stuff himself, hence produceing so many records.
On this note I try recording some of my own songs with this "punk ethic" in mind.
I am truly inspired.

April 16th
Casually reading "Big heart and balls" on the bus, I am inspired to write some passages of poetry of my own.
Maybe not good poetry, but poetry none the less. I am starting to understand why he's such a cult figure, and such a strong influence on so many people. The Mystery, the anarchy and the carelessness is so appealing.

April 26th
Back to researching on the internet, I learn more about his past and childhood.
His real name is Steven John Hamper, and " he has detailed his love life and childhood sexual abuse, notably in his early poetry and the novels My Fault and Sex Crimes of the Futcher."
It's strange, so many of my idols were troubled souls. Elliot Smith, Kurt Cobain, Richey James Edwards to name but a phew.
It seems Billy Childish falls into the same category.
I also discover he was the founding member of "The Medway poets", a poetry performance group formed in 1979.

April 29th
Billy Childish talks art.
Billy childish will be giving a Talk on art at the Tate Modern on the 24th of May at two o'clock.
I shall most definitely be attending!

After looking at this astonishing man's work and lifestyle, it's safe to say I'm hooked like so many others.

I dare say he's a bit of a "Marmite character", you either love or hate.

Billy Childish. Legend

"Big Heart and Balls"- Billy Childish

www.billychildish.com

www.theebillychildish.com

www.damagedgoods.co.uk/billychildish

NME

www.tate.org.uk/modern

Proud Gallery

Proud Gallery, said to be the "hippest, most fun and most important, is also the most popular privately funded photograph gallery in Europe." Quite a statement.
A gallery situated in the heart of London's music scene Camden town.
It is known to be the home of "Parties, product launches, fashion shows, Press and preview screenings, conferences even weddings."
Once a rehearsal room for the Clash in the 70's, it's a gallery approaching things in a sort of "modern way".
A gallery "run by the people for the people".

It reminded me of another new Gallery recently opened in Caernarfon, North Wales, called "Galeri".
Again a place that has a vast pallet of entertainment and exhibitions.
"The Galeri is an exciting place full of life night and day".- Bryn Terfel

The ICA, another venue I have recently visited, also seem to be following the same blueprint.

This seems to be the "new" way of running things. A collection of modern art and culture all under one roof.

Proud is now open for private hire and has an organization that arranges regular live music called "Band Wagon".
All in all the idea sounded great, so I thought that I should experience a piece of the action, so to speak.


It's a chilly night in the heart of Camden's stables market. I'm walking up a modest cobble stoned walkway leading nowhere it seemed, trying to find Proud Gallery.
I find the entrance. It's like a back door to the Tate or White Cube.
Inside are a selection of London's trendiest bunch, casually sipping overpriced, European beer in their glad rags.
The room is a dimly lit hall with a little stage and a display of impressive photographs of musical legends from the past thirty or forty years. The atmosphere's nice. Relaxed and friendly.
In the next room through the two inch castle like door, is a bar with several little private booths reserved for bands, v.i.p's and the press.
There is a friendly brool inside accompanied by up beat songs from the Beatles, the Clash and all sorts of classic bands.
The first phew bands come on and deliver an admirable set. It's nice to see that a crowd has gathered even for the very first acts.
The support band Bad Robots come on and the crowd start swaying. As they play Members of Dirty Pretty Things stroll in one by one politely greeting fans as they shouted "GARY" and other over excited blurbs.
After what seemed like hours of waiting, legendary figure Carl Barat comes on stage greets the masses and starts strumming his guitar. The band plays a very well received set of new material before bursting into some older songs from their first album such as "Gin and Milk", "Dead Wood" and finishing with "Bang Bang You're Dead". The crowd went wild.
As we all left back to the cobble stone pathway, there were smiles all round.
well done Proud gallery, I wasn't disappointed.

Is this the way forward for future gallery's? All I can say is that Proud seem to be doing a great job at the moment. It's a nice change from more traditional venues, even though I do have love for them also. At the moment I am happy to declare Proud a success.

Long Live Proud Gallery!


www.proud.co.uk

www.dontstayin.com

www.Myspace.com/thebandwagencamden

www.galericaernarfon.com

Tour Of Bedlam

He pondered. Is this Art? Is this liberal expression? Or just some bastard that got lucky? It was then, Graham realized, he was getting old. The young adventurous, open minded artist that once challenged the world, was now a narrow minded middle aged man stuck in his ways, standing in the middle of the White Cube like a fish on dry land.
He felt angry. He clenched his wine glass and gulped a mouthful. The Cheap red wine burned the back of his throat as he witnessed what art was becoming. This wasn't art. It was public display of filth. It seemed like sex, violence and drugs was the back bone of todays culture.
Strolling between the four walls of the gallery was like a tour of Bedlam hospital. A sad reflection of a crumbling country, that was once known for greatness.
The Cube was crawling with clerks. He finished his wine, but kept the glass in his hand. It was much more comfortable than standing in the middle of the room empty handed. He stared coldly at the contraptions placed in front of him, with disgust. Never had he imagined that such clumsy and crude items could be adored in such a way. He nodded his head slowly and forced a strained expression, so that the others could acknowledge his false appreciation. He shuffled forward past clusters of suits, only to meet others. He felt that he was expected to contribute to conversation, but he had nothing to say. Their conversation was noise to him.Sadness washed over the old man, as he realized he was redundant in this modern world. He was insignificant. It was as if he spent all his life searching, perfecting his craft, only to find that no one cared. No one seemed to appreciate the fine, delicate stroke of a brush on canvas anymore. Of course Van Gough, Rembrandt and Monet were hailed as pioneers. But to be a classic painter in modern society was hopeless.
He looked around. The cheap wine was slowly creeping up his body.
He'd had enough.
Graham stepped out into the autumn chill. The attack of fresh air made him feel a little looser than he'd anticipated. The walk would do him good.
He reached his Ford Mondeo and sat there. He felt different. What is art if not to experience? Yes, the works at the Cube were different, slightly more unconventional than what he tended to lean towards. But were these monstrosities the offspring of his own generation's creativity? After all, we all live in the hope that our children will learn from our mistakes. In the hope that one day, we will have a race worthy of existance. Is that what he witnessed during the stroll through Bedlam?
The lights of the Albion winked at him, like a prostitute on the street corner.
She is crumbling, he thought to himself. Has our time been? Have we lived beyond our hour of power? Has our mighty empire grown to such extent that she now slowly sinks into the river under the weight?
But is Art a cause or a result for this downfall in society? Surely artists haven't changed. They're messengers, documenting history through expression. Clarity struck him on his bald forehead.
Graham understood. He hated the objects that he had just witnessed. In fact he hated everything about the exhibition. But he understood.
He turned the key, turned on the radio and slowly pulled out onto the road.
"Boy sixteen, stabbed over cigarette row."
Graham sighed as his car carefully, crept home.