student days…

It’s exam time of year again (or was) - one of our granddaughters has just finished her GCSEs – it has reminded me of those uncertain, but exciting, days when pupils were coming to the end of their time at school and looking ahead to going off to university or pursuing career options.
A time of reflection and ‘what might have been?’ if we’d decided to follow other paths.

I was the first person in our family to go to university and, coming from a working-class background, I suppose that was quite significant. My decision to study architecture was based on a rather tentative suggestion from my Maths teacher, Mr Jones. Although I made general enquiries about what such a course would involve I frankly had very little idea of what an architect actually did (apart from ‘designing buildings’… whatever that meant!).
In 1966, I applied to study architecture at Aston and De Montfort universities and Oxford School of Architecture (then still part of the College of Technology, now within Oxford Brookes University); my parents were desperately keen that I continued to live at home (ie. studying at Aston), so were not impressed when I opted for Oxford!
My interview at the Oxford School with its wonderful, charismatic Principal, Reggie Cave, was quite an experience. This was at a time when places weren’t awarded on the basis of gaining three A* A-Levels or whatever… the interview was THE crucial part of the process. I completed some IQ tests before being called into the Principal’s office… and then he and I sat and discussed life, art, design, architecture and a whole realm of topics for well over an hour! At the end of our time together, Mr Cave offered me a place… but not for September 1966, but for 1967 (I had been part of the ‘Remove’ stream at school and had therefore completed my O-Levels in a year less than ‘normal’; Mr Cave felt I needed another 12 months’ maturity… and, of course, he was right!). So, ridiculously (this was before the time of ‘Gap Years’!), I stayed on at school for a third year in the Sixth Form – frankly just happy to play football and cricket!
Looking back, I realise how naïve and selfish I was in assuming that my parents would be happy for me to a) spend another year at school and b) embark on a six-year university course (I can assure you, money was tight!)!

I managed to gain a full grant (£360 a year - £120 per term!) and there were no tuition fees; there should have been a parental contribution on top of this, but I was able to manage without it (although Mom+Dad did pay for the odd train fare when I made my various visits home – although I frequently relied on hitch-hiking).
I think there were 80(?) architectural students in my first year, but numbers were considerably reduced over successive years (I think there were just 30 of us by year 6). I think times and attitudes have changed significantly over the past 50+ years (‘bums on seats’ seems to be the key for university funding, so perhaps now being dropped from courses on a year-by-year basis is relatively rare by comparison?).

The architecture course was something of a revelation. It was a mixture of public school-educated students and ‘ordinary’ people like me (I think there were 8 females). We were set a mixture of design projects each term – including perhaps half a dozen ‘one-day-sketch-schemes’. At the end of each project, critiques (‘crits’) were held in which each student had to present his/her scheme to a ‘jury’ of tutors. This was a hugely important part of the course – being able to ‘sell’ your design proposals; to explain/justify the way you had interpreted the project brief; and to defend your design decisions. I was initially struck by how confident the ex-public school students were by comparison with the rest of us… but we gradually developed more confidence and know-how as the course progressed.There are far too many experiences for me to recall in any great numbers (and an awful lot that I have forgotten!), but here are a few:

• On my very first day at college, I got trapped in a lift (together with three other students)!
• After registration on Day 1, one of the other architectural students (RobP – posh and public school-educated) and I decided to walk into Oxford together to do a little ‘exploring’. I was somewhat taken aback that he insisted on walking into town bare-footed (oh, those old hippie days!!).
• One of the other first year students (again public school-educated) introduced himself as ‘Mephistopheles’ and insisted that everyone should refer to him by that name… but I don’t think anyone ever did. He became something of a laughing stock and I don’t think he survived the first year of the course.
• There were no computers, of course! Just ‘Imperial’ and ‘Double-Elephant’ drawing boards, set-squares, T-squares, pens and pencils!
• There was no ‘College Bar’ until perhaps my third year – and, even then, it was only in a small, converted store (current students would no doubt find this unbelievable!). 
• Lots of societies/clubs within the college: FADS (Food+Drink Set) – which for a very modest joining fee ensured that ‘free’ access to food and drink samples at their monthly gatherings; Film Club – excellent, current, weekly films (again for an incredibly modest joining fee).
• We had a 24-hour Blues Festival in March 1969. Excellent artists including: Fairport Convention, The Crazy World of Arthur Brown, Roy Harper, Taste, Pete Brown and his Battered Ornaments, Free, Jo-Ann Kelly, Stefan Grossman, John Peel and others). 
• In my first year, I had ‘digs’ in Headington (Mrs Brown’s B+B for £7/week); 2nd Year: Arlington Drive, Marston (with Steve, Age and JohnT); 3rd Year: Norreys Avenue (with Age, JohnT and JohnTom); 4th Year: ‘Year Out’ at home in Brum; 5th Year: Lodge Hill, Abingdon (with Age+JohnTom?); 6th Year: bedsit in Littlemore until Christmas, then Oakthorpe Road, Summertown (having married Moira).
• Principal Reggie Cave’s infamous ‘Teapot Lecture’ given to first year students; this is a link to one he did in 1990 (we never had to fill in forms in ‘our day’!).
• Second Year students used to be sent on a European Study Trip. In 1968 (as it happens, the time of the Riots!), students went to Paris… but were so badly behaved that they cancelled the ‘European’ bit of the Study Trip the following year (ie. in MY second year!) and, instead, sent us to Pontins at Southport on a holiday accommodation project. The good news (for some, but not us!) was that we were so well behaved that they reinstated the European trip the following year (students went to Athens)! 
• The Architects’ Punt Race: these happened every summer – between King’s Mill and the Vicky Arms pub. Rules were fairly ‘basic’: Le Mons start; punt and six crew had to start and finish the race (as the race became more established boatyards would hide away their punts, poles and paddles the night before – equipment used to mysteriously disappear for race purposes!). The course highlights included negotiating the ‘Rollers’ (punts had to be pushed up ‘rollers’ at a change in water level) and paddling past ‘Parsons’ Pleasure’ (nudist bathing place)! On one occasion, I ended up in the water… I think we were in either first or second place entering the ‘rollers’ and anxious to re-enter the water as speedily as possible. Unfortunately, our heaviest crew member jumped back into the punt right at the bow end and the rest of us jumped in before the punt reached the water… with the predictable result that our punt (and us) disappeared under the water!
• We were required to attend lectures (but there were only perhaps 2-3/week) but, over the course of our time at college, architectural students did most of their work at their respective ‘homes/digs’. Looking back, I feel sure that we worked harder (and longer) than all the rest of the students at the college!! LOTS of all-night sessions, followed by a couple of days of ‘relaxing’ (ie. drinking!) before it all started again.
• One of key things for me (in the first year) was Tom Porter’s art ‘syllabus’. He became a brilliant influence for lots of us (definitely for me)… encouraged us to take risks; experimenting with different presentation techniques; colour; took us on a trip to London and pointed us towards Habitat, Carnaby Street/Biba; the film ‘2001: Space Odyssey’ etc. I won Tom’s poster competition for an exhibition at the Ashmolean in 1968.
• Mrs Barber’s brilliant ‘Art Materials’ shop on the ground floor of the architecture block (she was something of a ‘mother figure’ for lots of us and kept us all smiling!). 
• I won the ‘most improved student’ award (or whatever it was called) at the end of my second year (sponsored by the Oxford Architects Partnership – who subsequently offered me my first job). A huge boost to my self-confidence.

I know I was very fortunate to have ‘survived the course’ (over 60% of my fellow first year students didn’t)… but, hey, I did work very hard! Studying architecture is a long, long process (3 years at college; followed by a year-out in an office; followed by 2 years back at college; followed by a year in an office before being allowed to take ‘professional practice exams’ and become qualified. Because of the system in place in those days (as I’ve explained above), students would be kicked off the course at the end of each year (not because they hadn’t worked hard, just because they hadn’t achieved the required standards in the eyes of the tutors). Two of my closest friends met this fate and, as a result, never qualified.

Today, for those who choose or are able to go to university, the world is very different. There are no (or very few) grants available and, of course, there are also course fees to be paid… student loans are virtually the only way (the consequences of which seem to hang over individuals for the rest of their lives)… unless, of course, you have rich parents! Such matters have seriously curtailed opportunities to study away from home for many (due to lack of money) - a massive shame in my view. Having said all that, I do regret that there now seems to be an assumption/expectation that everyone will end up going to university. I feel quite strongly that this would be the wrong choice for SO many people… apprenticeships and/or specific job-related training would be the better option for huge numbers.

However, looking back on my own experiences, approaching 60 years later(!), I feel incredibly fortunate to have been given a chance to go to university.

It was an amazing, life-changing time for me personally – a time of independence; making decisions (and mistakes!) off my own bat… and seeing them through; meeting new people/making new friendships; adapting to new educational challenges (and growing in confidence in putting over my ideas); growing up(!); and, of course, being fortunate enough to study in a beautiful place like Oxford.

Bon voyage to all those about to leave school and/or continue their studies… dream your dreams!

Photograph: Oxford city from ChristChurch Meadow.

ros...

Our lovely friend has died…
It all happened so quickly.
No time to tell her how much we loved her
And how important she was in our lives.
How wonderful it was that our families bonded
During those formative years for our daughters and for hers.
Their impromptu musical concerts
All the dramatic plays they wrote and performed
(Not to mention the elaborate programmes they drew!).
She was a second mother to all our girls.
The care, the grace, the wisdom that came natural to Ros.
Her love and consideration for others
Her teaching, her citizen’s advice volunteering
Her passion for a more equal society
Her love of nature and her garden
Her glorious art and creativity
Her gentle humour and encouragement of others.
Our wonderful New Year’s Day Walks
Followed by the leftover grub from the pooled holiday fare.
The shared meals and effortless hospitality.
Our daughters have already decided that we need to properly celebrate her life…
With pasta bakes and quilting sessions…
And a concert with all the percussion instruments!
Laughter, joy and smiles.
So many memories… even in this time of grief.
A very special lady who we were all privileged to call a dear, dear friend.
xx 

Photo: from New Year's Day Walk, 1988(?)

goodbye arts trail at number40…

One of the saddest aspects of moving house is the realisation that we’ve held our last SouthBank Arts Trail at number40. We’ve opened up our studio on every arts trail weekend from 2004-2018 (we ‘missed’ the very first one in May 2003, which took place the day we put in an offer for the house!).
Over the years, Moira and I have welcomed the following 40 exhibiting artists (which somehow feels absolutely appropriate for number40!): Paul Brown, Wendy Calder, Jen Orme, Helen Brayshaw, Sharon Bishop, Dave Morgan-Davies, Chitra Merchant, Philippa Royle, Angela Saxbee, Hannah Hickman, Sarah Duncan, Anna Francis, Kay Morgan, Alexandra Higlett, Georgina Hounsome, Lucy Roberts, Tamsie Beith, Ruth Ander, Fay-Darling Peters, Maggie Smith, Martin Lintern, Damian Daly, Lucie Sheridan, Becky Burling, Melanie Wickham, Tessa McDermott, Shirley Smith, Deb Steele, Sally Medlicott, Ian Adams, Heather Newport, Chris Heaton, Nik Kalinowski, Jeremy Smith, Iain Ferns, the Plate-Painting-Lady (who joined us at the eleventh hour for one of our exhibitions, but we can’t remember her name!) plus, of course, the lovely Ruth Broadway, Hannah Broadway, Stuart Low and Felix Hayes.
It proved to be a very popular arts trail venue – so much so that we ended up welcoming over 700 people into our basement over an Arts Trail weekend!
Huge thanks to all those who contributed or visited over the years.
Lots of special memories.
Lots of very good times with lots of very good friends. x
Photos: These are just a very FEW of the photographs taken over the years… fascinating to see the broad scope of work included and also being reminded that our grandchildren have effectively ‘grown up’ over the course of our arts trail involvement!

very best substitute for cricket in the circumstances…

In these testing times, I realise that there are FAR more important matters than bemoaning the lack of this year’s cricket season (well, probably) but, nevertheless, I am REALLY missing my cricket! 

Never fear, my lovely brother has stepped in to save the day (he really is pretty amazing). 

Michael Henderson’s book “That Will Be England Gone” (a line from Larkin’s poem ‘Going, Going’) arrived in last Friday’s post… no note, no clue as to who might have sent it (but it could only have been from my brother Alan!).

Henderson is a cricket writer and arts correspondent (mirroring the career/interests of one of my cricket-writing heroes, Neville Cardus). I’ve come across articles from him in the past, but don’t really know an awful lot about him. Although he’s nearly ten years younger than me, I think we could both call ourselves ‘grumpy old men’ as far as some of our ‘traditional’ views on cricket are concerned.

Henderson wrote the book in the knowledge that the 2020 season would see the introduction of a new tournament, ‘The Hundred’, designed to attract an audience of younger people to the game. Ten 10-ball overs per innings featuring ‘eight brand-new city-based teams’. The County Championship – which both Henderson and I see as the ‘proper’ form of cricket – would be reduced to something of a farce, with games shoe-horned in to take place at the very start and end of the season. ‘The Hundred’ and Twenty-20 ‘pyjama’ cricket’ (as some of us have described it) would effectively take over the prime June-August slots, alongside some of the Test matches. Cardus used to say that there could be no summer English summer without cricket. He’d be horrified by what’s happening… and so are Henderson and I.

We both share the view that this ‘bish-bash’ version isn’t cricket. Yes, it might be entertaining as a ‘spectacle’, but it DEFINITELY isn’t cricket. The trouble is that we also both accept that the county championship clubs couldn’t survive financially if they had to depend purely on income from Test Matches and championship games. We also both share the fear that the new competitions might ultimately lead to the demise of Test Match cricket (the ultimate version of the game) altogether… or, at the very least, turn it into a dumbed-down adaptation (probably reduced to 4 days’ duration, rather than 5, because batsman were no longer sufficiently capable of staying at the wicket for any significant period).

I’ve blogged at length on the demise of English cricket (well, the county championship anyway) over the years, so I’ll resist the temptation to add yet further ranting! Here’s just one example from last year!

For this book, Henderson revisited several much-loved places last season to reflect on how the game had changed since he attended his first ‘senior’ game of cricket in 1965. Inevitably, many of his cricketing heroes were mine too and so, not surprisingly (despite him being SO much younger than me!), we shared similar memories. His background (public school educated at Repton) is very different to mine, but we do share a common love for cricket and the arts. He sees public schools as almost the ‘only hope’ for cricket’s future stars – there’s hardly any cricket played at state schools these days (and local cricket clubs have to compete with other summer sports, including bloomin’ football, that don’t require giving up entire days to them). I hate to admit it, but I think he’s probably right – with all the consequences that would come with this.

Yes, the book is something of a romantic, nostalgic (almost lyrical) reflection on his life - and, yet, it’s much, much more than that. I love the stories+reflections and it’s frequently very amusing. He and I don’t agree on everything (surprise, surprise), but I SO enjoyed reading it; it brought back LOTS of memories; and it has massively helped me cope with being unable to sit next to the boundary rope. x

Postscipt: What came as a lovely bonus was this reference to conductor Daniel Harding (our families are very close friends from our Oxford days) in the book’s ‘Postlude’ on one of Henderson’s regular visits to Munich: “Some of those visitors occasionally play cricket in the Englischer Garten. In July 1996, I was one of them, turning out for a London XI against MCC (Munich Cricket Club) on a matting pitch inside a running track on the southern fringe of the park. The next day I drove across the Austrian border with Daniel Harding, the young English conductor, to hear Simon rattle direct the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra at the Salzburg Festival. Eleven years later Danny and I returned to the festival. He was now conducting that great orchestra himself, in ‘The Marriage of Figaro’ no less, and I was listening at quarters that could not have been closer. ‘Sit in the pit’, he said. ‘Wear something dark, and don’t stand up to peer at the audience’. Shades of Noël Coward’s instructions to his actors!”

trying to heal political wounds…

If you’re on facebook, you might recall me posting a ‘plea for help’ back in mid-December, following the General Election result (which also effectively ruled out any chance of continued EU membership)? In my virtual world, perhaps well in excess of 95% of my 650 FB friends probably didn’t vote Conservative (and I fully appreciated that there’s another virtual world out there for whom exactly the opposite is true).

Against this background, I wanted to meet up with some Tory-voters… although I vehemently disagreed with the vast majority of Tory policies, I thought the time had come to try to heal some of the wounds (a tall order - but you know what I mean!).
I wanted to meet a few Tory-voters to chat and compare our current thoughts, concerns, hopes and aspirations. Clearly, I didn’t want to try to ‘convert’ this Tory voter (and, equally, didn’t want to talk to anyone who thought they could persuade me to support Mr Johnson!)… but I did (and do) think there’s an awful lot of healing that needs to happen. These proposed meet-ups wouldn’t be confrontational in any way – they would just be an opportunity to discuss political stuff in a calm, rational (and, who knows, even humorous) way - with me buying the first round!
For the record (in case you didn’t know), I’m a 71 year-old member of the Green Party. I live in Bristol. I’m a retired architect (and ran a successful, medium-sized Buckinghamshire practice for getting on for 30 years). I’ve been very happily married for 47 years, have 3 beautiful daughters and 6 wonderful, funny, bright grandchildren… and I voted ‘Remain’ in the Referendum. Although I hold strong political views, I’d describe myself as a ‘liberal with socialist leanings’(!). I’ve never voted Conservative in my life and don’t anticipate ever doing so… but, by the same token, I’m definitely no ‘Labour-lefty’.

Well, largely as a result of my facebook plea, I’ve now managed to meet up with three Tory-voters (over the odd glass!) – all male as it happens (not by choice!).

Somewhat predictably, it proved to be an illuminating, fascinating… and, at times, frustrating experience.

In the event (and as anticipated), all three ‘conversations’ were conducted amicably… there was humour; a general acceptance that the Labour Party’s poor performance in Opposition had had a direct bearing on the General Election result (at a time when, arguably, the government’s own performance since 2010 had provided ‘easy targets’ for any opposition party); that the EU Referendum had been unsatisfactory on various levels; but also a general acceptance of the need to ‘move on’ (perhaps much easier to say if the Party you voted for won!).

I could write at length about our individual conversations and disagreements/agreements, but this would probably make very boring reading (not that this is sparkling ‘journalism’!). Indeed, I HAD originally anticipated summarising the discussions on a whole variety of issues… including Democracy, Party Leadership, Brexit, Westminster/Politics in General, Climate Crisis/Environment and Politics over the next 5/10 years.

Instead, I’ll simply say this:

I found some comments from two of my ‘friends’ both annoying and somewhat jingoistic – and, no doubt, they would have their criticisms of my views. At times, I sensed a certain arrogance in their various and collective stances – along the lines of “well, your views are very much as we might have predicted… but, sadly for you, you’re wrong/disillusioned/badly informed… we know better”.

However, my third meet-up was an altogether different matter… right from the start, we both accepted the need for a time of healing/need to move on. There were certainly matters that we had completely different ‘takes’ on, but we were able to discuss these openly and freely accept the other’s viewpoint. We discussed our respective backgrounds; we covered a wide range of subjects… and, crucially, we laughed a lot!

Genuinely, I think this could be the start of a very rewarding, encouraging friendship – which far exceeds my original expectations. We’ve agreed to meet up again in due course to continue our wide-ranging discussions.  How lovely is that!?

   

For me, I’ve been trying to use this time of post-election reflection as a time of reconciliation and healing; a time to ‘move on’. In some ways, the time has been fruitful and worthwhile (perhaps, to underline this process, Lent has come at a good time for me?), but it’s also proved more difficult than I’d imagined. I think, perhaps naively, that I’d hoped to have had conversations whereby we might have been able to agree that there was a ‘better way’; or a compromise way which addressed various issues and enabled ‘both sides’ to move on together on some matters; or simply an opportunity to move away from confrontational politics (perhaps, to some extent, this was achieved).

I feel passionate about UK politics (don’t get me started on the US version!) and, as I’ve got older, I think the range of my ‘beliefs’ have become sharper and more focussed. Perhaps, also, I’ve become less tolerant of others who don’t share my views (I hope that’s not the case)?

I think we all need to listen more. I think we need to create opportunities to exchange our views… and, somehow, I think we need to move away from the world of Party Politics whereby our MPs follow the Party-line on every issue and ignore the views of their constituents and the potential for working alongside colleagues – whatever their political colours - who share similar concerns and aspirations.

I live in hope.  

Image: These are words from AA Gill (in an article ‘The Times’, dated 12 June 2016, just before the EU Referendum)(and just six months before he died)… I wrote them down in my sketchbook because I felt they summed many of my own feelings towards those who voted to leave the EU and to ‘get our country back’… by the same token, sadly, I think they also sum up the attitudes and sentiments of many (not all) Tory-voters per se (certainly not my third Tory ‘friend’!).

new year reflections: 31 december 2019…

Another year’s reflections (as always - a reminder for ME - I need to write stuff down in order to remember it all!):
It’s been a good year (I turned 70… and survived!), DESPITE the ongoing, depressing, frustrating stuff regarding Trump, Brexit, General Election, Climate Crisis etc etc.

When it comes to politics, I don’t think I’ve ever felt as hopeless and helpless as I have done this year… but perhaps it’s time to try to move on.

So let’s set such matters aside and concentrate on the good stuff:  

WONDERFUL BOOKS:
During the year, I joined one of our StorySmith’s (our local bookshop) Book Groups. It’s been rather lovely… interesting books, lovely people and good fun too. I read an awful lot of books (94!) this year (I need to get out more often!) - and so I’ve limited the list to just thirteen authors (but desperately cheating, by highlighting 21 books!)(it would have been very easy to have selected 30 plus!):

Lanny (Max Porter); The Salt Path (Raynar Winn); Signs (Si Smith); Scar (Alice Broadway); The Overstory (Richard Powers); Morning and Plot 29 (Allan Jenkins); The Testaments (Margaret Atwood); The Living Mountain (Nan Shepherd); A Shepherd’s Life (WH Hudson); A Year Of Magical Thinking (Joan Didion); The Silence Of The Girls (Pat Barker); The Marches (Rory Stewart); and all eight novels from the ‘Shetland’ series (Ann Cleeves)!

GREAT FILMS:
I haven’t been to the cinema quite as much this year. I ended up watching just 19 films this year. My top eight(?) in vague order: So Long, My Son; Woman At War; The Irishman; Sorry we Missed You; Vice; The Favourite; Green Book; A Private War; and Sunset.

LOVELY LIVE PERFORMANCES:
THEATRE:

Pride and Prejudice*(*sort of); Wise Children; Amelie, the Musical; Cyrano; and Wild Swimming (Bristol Old Vic).
CONCERTS:
The Unthanks; Three Cane Whale; Bristol Metropolitan Orchestra (three concerts); Trio de Profundis; plus various lunchtime concerts at Saint Stephen’s.
EXHIBITIONS:
Not as many as I’d intended (but I’m also conscious that I’ve not been logging them): Flashes To Ashes In British Art 1692-2019 at the RWA; the Annual Open Exhibition at the RWA; and The Golden Show (Tony+Glen Eastman) at Centrespace.
SPORTING MOMENTS:
I’ve really enjoyed continuing to be a season ticket holder for the Bristol Bears (rugby) - the atmosphere in the ground and the quality of play have been excellent (with one of two exceptions!). I also saw a fair amount of County cricket again this year at Taunton (sadly, frequently frustrated by weather!), Cheltenham and Bristol (very good to have Gloucestershire back in Division One for next season)… including a Friday evening Gloucester v Somerset Twenty20 game… PLUS (for the very first time in my life) watching a Test Match (and it doesn’t get any better than the first day of the first Ashes Test at Edgbaston – thanks to my brilliant brother).

Although I continue to follow my beloved Aston Villa, I’m afraid that my love of football has waned and I’m really no longer that interested.

FRIENDS:
Once again, we’ve been blessed to be able to meet up with our special BABE's (Barnes, Adams, Broadway, Eyres) friends for birthday and family celebrations during the course of the year… and have loved staying in touch with lots of other brilliant friends – either meeting up or via social media - and have also really enjoyed making new friendships. I feel very blessed.
ART STUFF:
Another really enjoyable, busy year, including:
1. I’ve still very much enjoyed continuing to post a drawing or photograph every day as part of my “One Day Like This” blog (now more than 2,650 consecutive days - more than 1,325 drawings and 1,325 photographs - since I started in September 2012, more than 7 years ago). These days (unlike when I first started), every sketch is drawn ‘on location’… which, at times has its challenges, but which I now really prefer and really enjoy.
2. The brilliant Drawing Group I joined in 2017 – organised by the lovely, talented artists Charlotte and Alice Pain – continues to bring me great joy. We meet for two hours most Tuesdays in a variety of locations in and around Bristol. The Group also held a lovely exhibition at Saint Stephen’s, Bristol.
3. Sadly, there was no Arts Trail this year (we’d previously participated for 15 consecutive years) due to lack of people being prepared to organise stuff (I’d been on the Steering Group for something like 10 years, so felt as though I’d done ‘my stint’). However, plans are in place to resurrect the Arts Trail in 2020… so, fingers crossed.

4. Iris, Rosa and I combined again to produce some large window art as part of another very successful Window Wanderland in February (this time our theme was “Dr Who”!).
5. One Week 100 Faces: I participated in this scheme again and duly produced my 100 faces in a week – mainly comprising random cricket spectators! Enjoyed it much more than my previous attempt.

6. Urban Sketchers, Bristol: I joined this wonderful group in March 2018… it’s a worldwide organisation and, here in Bristol, we meet up every month and regularly get more than 20 people coming along. It’s very, very enjoyable: we compare notes (and sketchbooks!) and share ideas. It’s hugely enjoyable and I’ve made some lovely new friends. The group’s brilliantly organised by local artists Jules, Jane and Charlotte. It’s become a real highlight and joy.
FAMILY AND SIMPLE PLEASURES:
Cafés, reading, drawing, photography, walking, cinema and, of course, our grandchildren remain very important aspects of my life - it’s SO lovely seeing them develop in their individual, unique ways (and they ALL make me laugh!!). It goes without saying that our daughters (and their husbands!) are quite, quite brilliant.

I also meet up for a cousins’ lunch a couple of times a year – which is very enjoyable.
Feel SO lucky to have the family we have… and great that we all “get on” so well and are able to see each other regularly (even if we don’t see the lovely Chorley/Lancashire contingent as often as we’d like).
SOMETHING YET TO BE CREATED:

More photography?
Each year I vow that I’m “definitely need to give more thought to this”… but, largely, end up bumbling on. I’ve really enjoyed producing double-page drawings in my sketchbooks (I’ve got a whole library of sketchbooks!!) and I’ve been experimenting a lot with watercolour pens (in addition to using my ‘usual’ black line drawings). The results have ranged from ‘interesting’ to ‘laughable failures’ and so I’d like to be able to control my use of the watercolour pens a little better (maybe in conjunction with watercolour paints or inks?). Virtually all my sketches these days are drawn ‘in situ’ and I certainly want to continue this (my folding chair/rucksack has proved a treasured possession!).

I’m also very conscious that I don’t visit the ‘coast’ anything like as frequently as I have in recent years… so maybe that’s something I need to reconsider in 2020.

HOLIDAYS/LEISURE: 
We’ve continued to tighten our belts again this year, but had a really lovely breaks staying in Skipton for a week in the early Autumn and in Plymouth (thanks to our lovely friends Gail+Ian) in May. Simple pleasures.

SPIRITUAL LIFE:
We continue to be part of the lovely Community of Saint Stephens, in the heart of the city, and it really does feel like our ‘spiritual home’. A very stimulating, reflective community and I love the intimacy and informality of its services and that we can actively contribute to discussions. There are some very special people there. We’re very fortunate with our members of clergy (although we’ve sadly seen Chris+Sarah depart to France with A Rocha)(sad for us, good for them). I particularly enjoy the involvement from the wonderful theology students from Trinity College. My own faith-life journey has felt a little lost at times (I have lots of ‘wilderness days’!). Five or six of us meet up most Wednesday mornings at 7.30am for “Bloke’s Prayer”… and it’s something which has proved to be absolutely brilliant – definitely not to be missed if at all possible. I’ve also been ‘chairing’ Saint Stephen’s Re-Ordering Group over the past year or so – stimulating, exciting and frustrating!
HEALTH:
My health has been pretty good this year (lungs/heart annual check was fine)… apart from the normal ageing process! My foot and leg issues now seem pretty much under control/sorted (well, almost – sadly, I had to drop out of the volunteering at the Glastonbury Festival Church Tent because of recurring foot issues). My teeth continue to fall out; my back feels ‘delicate’ most mornings when I first wake (but settles down); my hearing is deteriorating (I have hearing aids, but rarely use them – must bite the bullet); I take tablets for my atrial fibrillation; I take eye drops to deter my glaucoma; and I have a suspicion that my left hip might need replacing over the next year or so!! But, hey, I feel pretty fit, I’m very active and I continue to walk on a daily basis.
OTHER STUFF:
1. I continue to serve on the PCC of Saint Stephen’s church. I chair a group looking into the practicalities of re-ordering the Grade I Listed Building – which is proving to be both frustrating and illuminating.

2. We continue to be a no-car household… and use a local car club very occasionally, as we see the ‘need’.

3. I’ve attended various demonstrations over the past year relating to Climate Change and the People’s Vote.

4. I’ve been a volunteer with the wonderful B.Friend organisation since March (https://www.bridgesforcommunities.com/programmes/b-friend) and have been meeting with a 20 year-old asylum-seeker from Afghanistan three or four times a month. Humbling work.

5. I’ve also been volunteering at the YMCA/The Wing most Thursday evenings for the past year or so – helping to prepare food (but mostly washing up!) for some of young people staying there.

 
I love reflecting back on the things that have happened over the previous twelve months and, each year, it’s a reminder that there WILL be some very special things that they will happen in the coming year – even though, at this moment, I don’t know what these will be. Who’d have thought, for example, that ‘urban sketching’ (and the friends I’ve made through doing it) would have become such an important (and hugely enjoyable) part of my life? Extraordinary television programmes (Seven Worlds, One Planet; His Dark Materials); amazing live performances; wonderful books or films. Clearly, I’m also aware that there will inevitably be some sad stuff too… and perhaps challenges we feel ill-equipped to face. In such times, families and friendships will, once again, see us through.   

For us as a family, it’s been another very good year… and we continue to count our blessings.

I wish you (and all yours) a very happy, healthy and peaceful 2020!

youth climate strike…

Moira, Ruth, Felix and I (plus lots of friends we bumped into) joined Iris and her schoolfriends at College Green, Bristol at today’s Youth Climate Strike (and I know that Hannah+Ursa took part in a demonstration at Ursa’s school).
It was probably the biggest demonstration I’ve attended in our city (10,000, according to YouthStrike4Climate).
It was a global day of protest. It had been publicised weeks in advance… and, by the look of the television/newspaper/social media pictures I’ve seen, an amazing number of people from almost 150 countries turned out to make a stand and to demand urgent action from politicians before it’s too late.
It was an important, impressive, humbling day of protest.
My own generation are the guilty ones. Some of the guilt comes from lack of awareness, but much can be put down to people’s selfishness and greed.
Saying sorry isn’t enough. Obviously.

The frightening, depressing thing is that, even today (when we know so much more about climate change and its causes), some corporations, some politicians and some individuals are STILL turning a blind eye to the stark realities of the climate crisis… and putting off making crucial decisions on the basis of “promising to deal with the problem, once we’ve done X or Y”… or “it’ll be another politician’s job when I move on so, for time being, I’m not going to put the my head above the parapet (and, in the meantime, just feather my nest)”.

Clearly, some politicians feel passionately about climate change but, in all honesty, it seems that those in power (including Environment Secretaries) are simply prepared to pay lip service to the problem.

In a strange way, for some, today’s protest in Bristol was something of a metaphor for the Climate Crisis… “Climate Crisis? What Climate Crisis?” and perhaps “It’s not really going to affect me in my lifetime… I can’t do anything to change it, so I’ll ignore it”.
Three examples:
1.  We were walking into Bristol this morning with our banners/placards and a very pleasant young lady approached us to ask “what’s going on?”. “We’re going to the Youth Climate demonstration in town” we replied. The woman clearly didn’t know what we were talking about. “Have you heard of the 16 year-old Swedish environmental campaigner Greta Thunberg?” we asked. Completely blank response. “Climate Change?” Still nothing. She smiled and wished us well and we continued on our way (somewhat perplexed).
2.  Maybe I live in a bubble, but people had been talking about today’s demonstration for ‘some time’ (and especially over the past week). Surely, it would have been obvious to anyone who knew our city that there would be a large demonstration. It would have been talked about/referred to relentlessly over recent days on local radio and in local newspapers, social media etc etc. Silly me! Clearly, LOTS of motorists (mainly private cars and vans – although the local bus company obviously just ‘gave up’ until the streets returned to ‘normal’… with passengers abandoning their journeys) hadn’t a clue. Why on earth would you even dream of driving into the city centre at a time to coincide with a MASSIVE demonstration involving thousands of people? Well, let me tell you, they were there in their hundreds (thousands?)… with most of the drivers looking bewildered and frustrated. Ridiculous.
3.  This is somewhat similar to (2). Demonstrators had set off on their march around the city on a pre-planned route. Clearly, as we took to the roads, traffic came to an utter standstill. Some drivers blatantly refused to accept that they would be ‘inconvenienced’ for perhaps half an hour at the very least (there were an awful lot of people!) and kept their engines running. Very bad move… resulting in a long line of marchers chanting “engine off, engine off” as they walked past you. Humiliation. But, hey, I digress… one of these cars just happened to be a taxi… with a passenger (silly man had still to realise it would be quicker to walk)… and the meter still appeared to be running! It felt a bit like an encapsulation of the climate crisis itself – the clock is ticking and it’s now too late to do anything about it.

No doubt, we’ll hear from world leaders (there are always some exceptions… no names!) who will be applauding the enthusiasm and effectiveness of the demonstrators and will be promising to take action to do ‘stuff’. But, of course, we know it’s all hot air… pie-in-the-sky promises. Governments will NOT put their heads together at the Climate Action Summit in New York on 23 September and commit themselves to making the huge carbon dioxide reductions that are urgently needed. They’ll agree on something that ‘sounds’ quite positive (for media purposes) but, actually they’ll be saying things: “well, we’d LIKE to do more, but country A doesn’t want to play ball, so neither will we – because we don’t them to have a commercial advantage”.

The scary thing (and there are LOTS of scary things relating to Climate Change) is that, after a day of worldwide demonstrations – which will no doubt earn praise and acknowledgement from national leaders – people will feel a little like Greta Thunberg, when she addressed the Senate Climate Change Task Force earlier this week:
“Please save your praise. We don’t want it. Don’t invite us here to just tell us how inspiring we are without actually doing anything about it because it doesn’t lead to anything.
If you want advice for what you should do, invite scientists, ask scientists for their expertise. We don’t want to be heard. We want the science to be heard.
I know you are trying, but just not hard enough. Sorry.”
Action, not words… now, not soon.

bristol metropolitan orchestra plays mahler’s symphony no.5…

Last night, Moira and I went to the rather wonderful Clifton Cathedral to hear/see the Bristol Metropolitan Orchestra perform Gustav Mahler’s Symphony no.5 and extracts from Ethyl Smith’s ‘The Wreckers’.
Mahler’s fifth is probably my very favourite piece of classical music (quite possibly because I associate it with one of my favourite films, Visconti’s ‘Death in Venice’ – which I’ve watched SEVERAL times!), so I was particularly looking forward to the evening. As ever on such occasions, there’s always a fear that the performers won’t do the piece justice and that the evening will prove somewhat disappointing.
Well, I needn’t have worried. The Metropolitan Orchestra was superb!
There’s something rather quite intoxicating to hear a large orchestra in ‘full voice’ and this was the second time I’d heard the BMO perform (conductor: Michael Cobb; leader: Anneka Sutcliffe). The programme notes refer to the working backgrounds to several of its players – including anaesthetists, paediatric nurses, engineers and IT developers. My very good friend Ed (a retired teacher) plays the French Horn.
Their next concert will be at St George’s in Bristol on Saturday 16 November (Elgar’s ‘Cello Concerto’ and Stravinsky’s ‘Firebird Suite’).
A really excellent evening in the company of highly-talented performers.
Photo: Bristol Metropolitan Orchestra at Clifton Cathedral last night.
PS: Mention of 'Death in Venice'  (which starred Dirk Bogarde as Gustav von Aschenbach) brought to mind the postcard and comments I received from Bogarde in response to my letter to him in appreciation of his three volume set of biographies... I've just checked and found it tucked into one of his books, dated 8 October 1990. Blimey, that's getting on for 30 years ago!!

sunset…

I went to the Watershed this morning along with lovely friends Jeanette, Jeff and Ed to see Laszlo Nemes’s “Sunset”. It’s set in Budapest in 1913, in the death-throes of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and on the eve of WW1. A young woman (Irisz Leiter, brilliantly played by Juli Jakab)(who looks a lot like Emma Watson to me) returns to the city, after being fostered at the age of two under mysterious circumstances. She hopes to work as a milliner at the famous Leiter store that once belonged to her parents (who died in a fire on the premises after which the store was rebuilt and re-established as a lucrative concern). The new owner clearly doesn’t want her there and buys her a first class ticket to leave. However, the intrepid Irisz refuses to obey and is drawn into the city’s dark turmoil and the uncertainty about her past.

 

It’s a long, mesmerising film (142 minutes); beautifully shot (with slightly washed-out colour)(ok, I’m no good at the technical stuff!) and featuring LOTS of excellent hats! It’s not always clear what is happening - but that, to my mind, felt perfectly acceptable and in keeping with the film’s mystery. There’s a sense of Irisz wanting to claim back a place in the family business; there’s uncertainty about the existence of her brother (and even that he might have caused the fire that killed his parents); and there’s a distinctly threatening undercurrent throughout the film… almost a metaphor for the events that were about emerge in 1914.

I felt totally absorbed throughout and was hugely impressed.
PS: It seems that not everyone was quite as enthusiastic about the film as me… I noticed one postcard on the Watershed’s ‘feedback board’ simply asking: “What was that all about then?!”

bristol metropolitan orchestra at st george’s…

Last night, thanks to the suggestion and generosity of my very good friend Edward Kay, I went along to St George’s to hear/see the Bristol Metropolitan Orchestra perform.
Ed plays the French Horn in the orchestra (but he’s also a highly-acclaimed conductor, composer, teacher and accompanist). Of course, St George’s is a brilliant concert venue – superb acoustics and general ambiance – and it was quite intoxicating to hear a large orchestra in full voice, as it were.
Last night’s programme included Aaron Copland’s ‘Fanfare for the Common Man’; Joan Tower’s ‘Fanfare for the Uncommon Woman’; Benjamin Britten’s Violin Concerto (featuring the excellent Ben Baker as soloist) and finishing with Sibelius’s Symphony no.2 – which I thought was superb.
It was the first time I’d heard the BMO perform (conductor: Michael Cobb) and, I can assure you, they are a bit special! I’ve certainly made a note of their next concert (Saturday 13 July, Clifton Cathedral when they play Ethyl Smyth’s ‘The Wreckers’ and, wonderfully as far as I’m concerned, Mahler’s 5^th Symphony).
A really lovely, enjoyable and stimulating evening.

karine polwart at st george’s (again)…

I went along to St George’s Bristol last night to hear Karine Polwart perform (alongside her talented guitarist brother Steven and accordionist/percussionist Inge). I think this was the seventh time I’ve been to one of her concerts (although, ridiculously, the last time was 5 years ago) and, as you might imagine, I’m a huge fan!
My goodness, she IS utterly brilliant!
She started her performance by blending two of her beautiful songs together (both making powerful statements about the 45^th President of the US): “I Burn But I Am Not Consumed” and “Cover Your Eyes”. I already knew both songs but, nevertheless, they still made me want to stand up and link arms with everyone else at the concert (and in the UK… and in the world!!) and say “These are OUR songs – they speak for us!”.
Listen and weep.
It proved to be another stunning evening – powerful, intelligent, thought-provoking, political, tender, poignant music at its very best. She’s an eloquent poet (and she’s frequently funny too). She’s a person who reminds you that small voices are important. She’s an inspiration.
At this time when so many of us are disenchanted by politics and what’s happening in the world, last night was a wonderful reminder that there ARE decent, inspiring people who demand to be heard.  
May it be so.
PS: It was lovely that quite a few friends were also at the gig (including Catherine, Tracey, Sarah, Judith, Charlie, Richard, Dave and Nick)… all people with impeccable tastes in music, obviously!
Photo: Catherine and I sat in the front row(!) and this is a rather hurried ‘snap’ at the end of the concert (strictly speaking, photography isn’t allowed)(oops, sorry)…

benefit concert for keith tippett…

Last night I went along to a benefit concert at Saint Stephen’s for the hugely-talented, highly-acclaimed jazz pianist and composer, Keith Tippett, born in Southmead, Bristol (he suffered a heart attack, followed by complications from pneumonia, earlier this year). Sadly, there were a disappointing number of people in attendance but the concert, given in two parts by Blazing Flame Six (featuring trumpet, double bass, saxophone, drums and five-string electric violin and vocals) and pianist Stephen Grew, was quite extraordinary.
Grew played for 35 minutes… completely improvised… a truly mesmerising, energetic, compelling performance. I can honestly say that I’ve never heard so many notes played on a piano in such a comparatively short time! Very difficult to convey Grew’s music style, but this YouTube link will give an idea.
For me, the evening had a number of other, rather odd (in a lovely sense!), connections. Firstly, Keith Tippett is the brother of a very good friend of mine, Tom (another fine musician and general good egg!). Secondly, Keith is married to Julie Driscoll – whose “Wheels on Fire” record with Brian Auger and the Trinity is one of those iconic songs from my second year at university in 1968 (just 50 years ago!)(You definitely need to check on this link to see them in action!). I think it was my housemates and me who started a rumour that she was coming to an impromptu gig in Oxford at the time… and lots of people believed us!
Photos: I’m afraid my pics are a bit rubbish, especially those of Stephen Grew (I’m useless at taking photographs in dim light!)… but they give a ‘feel’ of the evening.

cheltenham cricket festival…

Chris, Jeff and I went along to watch the third day of the Gloucestershire v Durham second division game at Cheltenham College yesterday. The Cheltenham Cricket Festival has been going for the past 140 years (apparently, it’s the world’s longest-running cricket festival) and yesterday everything was all rather lovely – the stunning setting of Cheltenham College (independent boarding school, of course!), idyllic sunny weather, good company, the odd beer tent and even the sight of England all-rounder Ben Stokes pounding in to bowl 18 overs… you get the general idea.
The cricket wasn’t bad either – some 350 runs scored in the day and 15 wickets falling. Somewhat predictably, given the sunny conditions, the only sources of shade to be found were in the beer tents and marquees.
Despite the school holidays, the age profile of the spectators was definitely on the ‘old’ side – we seemed quite sprightly by comparison with the average punter (the three of us being 68, 69 and 70 respectively!). The only youngsters on view were those who turned up for a mini-cricket tournament at lunchtime (they included a reasonable number of girls in the teams, which was good to see). In fact, the overall attendance was much less than I’d anticipated (I’d initially even wondered if we would have difficulty in getting into the ground). You could get a very decent view of the cricket from the seats scattered along the boundary edge or from the temporary ‘stands’ (which were somewhat mysteriously set back a fair way from the boundary - until one of the locals explained that the ‘real’ crowds these days turned up for one-day 50 over or 20twenty games – and this allowed them to put more seating in front of the temporary stands).
A delightful, typically-English, somewhat nostalgic, summer’s day.
Photo: The Durham slip cordon (including Ben Stokes, extreme left).

redeeming capitalism...

My great friend, Ken Barnes (he’s an ordained minister who has conducted business on six continents as a senior executive; he also holds the Mockler-Phillips Chair in Workplace Theology and Business Ethics at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, Boston, USA), has written a remarkable book which explores the history and workings of capitalism in a business world that, these days, frequently seems devoid of any core principles or ethical constraints.
It’s a truly fascinating, well-researched, intelligent book (and it’s very readable too). It deals with a highly complex subject in a way which is both comprehensible and hugely thought-provoking.  The book begins with the spectacular collapse of the New York investment bank Lehman Brothers in September 2008 (28,000 employees and nearly $700billion of managed assets). It outlines the financial mess the bank got itself into and describes the cheating, immoral ways in which it tried to cover its tracks. It also reminds us that, despite the catalogue of errors and deceptions, none of the senior executives of Lehman Brothers went to gaol or even faced criminal charges – because the prosecutors concluded that they hadn’t actually broken the law! As Ken puts it: “the motive for deception was strong, not because the penalty for failure was severe… but because the financial reward for success was extreme”.
Ken goes on to list several other instances of individual and corporate fraud and financial deception. He also provides an enlightening mini-history of economics and capitalism – taking in the likes of Adam Smith, Karl Marx and Max Weber – before moving on to ‘postmodern capitalism’ (which he described as “capitalism that is devoid of a moral compass and resistant, if not impervious to ethical restraint”).
I found myself constantly scribbling in the margins or highlighting fact after fact (not something I usually do with books, believe me) – SO many snippets of information and detail eg. growing wage gap between corporate CEOs and the people who work for them; 1% of Americans today have an annual income 38 times greater than 90% of their fellow Americans; 78% of the US economy is now in the service sector, including financial services; (I could go on for several pages like this!).

Perhaps not surprisingly, given his background at Gordon-Conwell , Ken is a great advocate for the need for a different kind of capitalism to emerge – one that begins to change the social, political, ethical AND religious drivers that have formed our economic system from the onset. He calls this “virtuous capitalism” and puts forward a compelling argument which re-imagines capitalism within a faith-based ethic. He maintains that “there lies in every breast of every human being a shrouded yet indelible knowledge of God and both an ability and a desire to reflect the goodness of God, which explains the fact that the overwhelming majority of people in the world (84%) still profess faith in God”. Although, as a Christian myself, I love the concept of “virtuous capitalism”, I’m afraid that I don’t quite share Ken’s optimism in people’s spiritual attitudes. Indeed (and I know one can quote research paper after research paper), a recent survey that indicates that more than half the population here in the UK has “no religion”.

Nevertheless, I absolutely DO agree with Ken that it is entirely possible to build a business ethic that is universally applicable and which incorporates such features as morality, mission, common good, openness, trust, fairness, thrift and mutuality (I think my own architectural practice was built on such a platform). There needs to be a change away from greedy, uncaring corporations towards business such as Danish company Novo Nordisk (where the CEO is paid a fraction of what similar ranked executives would make in the US; where the accounting focus incorporates environmental and social concerns; where economic performance is measured a 20-25 year view in mind).
There are far too many aspects of the book that I COULD refer to (eg. The Occupy Movement; the theology of wealth; tax avoidance; United Global Compact/the Religious Freedom+Business Foundation; the third world; world politics; rich and poor etc etc)… but you really do need to read this book for yourself!

Nearly two years ago, I read an equally fascinating book on capitalism by Paul Mason, entitled “Postcapitalism”… and, although written from very different perspectives and backgrounds, there are lots of similarities – even if their respective ‘solutions’ were fundamentally different. Much food for thought!

One of the passages in Ken’s book related to what he called “The Geography of Virtuous Capitalism”, namely: “Economics is indeed a global concern, and not just in our current postmodern context, but in all future contexts as well. The resistance of nationalists and those who gnash their teeth over the corruption and inefficiencies of both corporate and government pan-national organisations notwithstanding, railing against globilisation is akin to howling at the moon. The world is small and through interconnectedness getting smaller every day. The challenge facing our economies, political structures, and environment are becoming ever more complex and intertwined. To become a force for good in the world, virtuous capitalism cannot be based on a beggar my neighbour mentality or the weaponisation of economic policies designed to give one country an advantage over others. It must be based on a think-globally-act-locally mentality and an ethos of shared responsibility for each other and for the planet we call home”.

This struck a chord with me very locally (although perhaps not quite in the way Ken envisaged). Here in Bristol, we’ve taken an initiative to introduce what we call the ‘Bristol Pound’. It was introduced in 2012 and we have our own printed money (and it’s also accessible digitally via smart phones) to trade in Bristol, localising supply chains and keeping money circulating in our city. It’s a movement, an idea, a hope, a better way of doing money… and it works! Two years ago (this is just one example), an enlightened developer decided to construct a scheme next to the harbourside (Wapping Wharf/Gaol Ferry Steps) consisting of a mixed-use scheme of apartments and cafés/bars/shops/restaurants. The developer took great care to select those he felt would complement each other and, crucially, ensure that they were all independent, local businesses. It’s been a phenomenal success… it’s become the go-to place in Bristol (and many of the traders have also opted to use Bristol Pounds). The traders are happy and the developer plays his part by ensuring that the area is kept clean and that the development continues to ‘look the business’ (the scheme won a prestigious heritage design award last year). As a result, a real sense of community has developed – the traders all know each other and seem to get on wonderfully well. So, on the back of this success, the developer put forward ideas for further shops, a yoga/massage unit and other eating places – housed in converted shipping container units. Again, the result has been wonderfully successful… and the sense of community has continued to develop. The developer is now seeking permission to build a number of small, independent office/studio units (plus café/bar) at the opposite end of the site (again using converted shipping containers) – a hotel is planned within the heart of the development on the site of the old gaol. In normal circumstances, the developer might have struggled to obtain permission for this latest proposal but, because he has a) now developed a very successful track record, b) prospective occupiers are keen to be associated with a development which they know will enhance the area and its community and c) has the firm support from people who use the facilities, I have absolutely no doubt that this latest phase of the scheme will prove equally successful. Relatively small beginnings; a determination to do things as well as possible (from design, environmental and organisational perspectives); being prepared to engage with end-users AND the local community; the city council is delighted by its success (which ‘rubs off’ on them, so they look good too!)… Think globally, act locally? A model for the future perhaps… on a VERY small scale?

Returning to the book, I have to say I was both encouraged and delighted by what it had to say and how it said it. I’m one of those people who have really struggled to come to terms with the implications of the 2008 financial crisis (and beyond!). I’m not easily reconciled about such matters, and yet, I finished this book feeling hopeful and even optimistic(!) that redeeming capitalism IS possible – given time, commitment, faith, perseverance, a sense of serving the common good and an acceptance of the need to engage with fellow stakeholders.

I think it’s a brilliant book and, even though you might not think so, one that you should definitely read.