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!

july-august 2021 books...

Tales From Lindford (Catherine Fox): This is the fourth Catherine Fox book I’ve read over the past six years or so (Moira originally introduced me to her stuff). As with the previous books, it’s based in the fictional diocese of Lindchester and, once again, follows some of its beloved characters. It was originally written in real time (more or less) in the form of a weekly blog in the midst of the pandemic and captures the huge difficulties and challenges of 2020… starting with everyone celebrating the New Year with parties and resolutions and with “none of them aware of the trials and tribulations the coming months will bring – not least the horseman of the apocalypse who has set out quietly, with barely a jingle of harness, in a distance province of China”. Fox is a wonderful writer and she manages to convey the uncertainties of the incredibly challenging year with heart, humour and insight… as well as providing us with a compelling, powerful reminder of what we’ve all been through (and are still going through!) Ridiculously perhaps, she has the ability to make you laugh and cry, but also leave you with hope and a reminder of the goodness of people, even in the darkest times. I also love her political ‘digs’, such as this: “The Rule of Six kicks in this Monday. Gatherings of more than six (including babies and children) are banned, with the exception of schools and workplaces. Oh, and grouse shooting. If I were making all this up, I wouldn’t have risked that last detail, for fear my readers would never swallow such a clunky bit of social satire. But there we are.” Brilliant!
Just Ignore Him (Alan Davies): This is a memoir in which comedian/actor Davies confronts his past. It’s a difficult, brave but compelling read – with tender recollections of his mother (who died from leukaemia when he just six); about how he and his siblings weren’t told about her death (and decisions taken by the family not even to tell her that she was dying) but, even brutally, how Davies was sexually-abused (from when he was 8 until he was 13) by his domineering, controlling father (and sworn to secrecy). Although it contains patches of black-humour, it’s a difficult, painful read (although I easily read it within 3 days). Davies is at pains to emphasise that he didn’t write the book for himself as an ‘exercise in healing’… instead, for me, I think the very final paragraph of the last chapter sums up why I think you should read the book: “Above all, I have set out to tell you the things you don’t know about me, in the hope that one day, perhaps, you will feel able to tell someone what they don’t know about you.”
Instructions For A Heatwave (Maggie O’Farrell): I first read this book in 2013. I’ve read three O’Farrell books in total and loved each one of them. In her note at the end of the book, she refers to how the book came about and makes reference to the heatwave summer of 1976 (which is very significant for me as daughter Ru was born in the spring of that year!). She talks about how the heatwave had played an “important role in Britain’s collective memory of itself”… and it struck me that people would almost certainly be referring to the pandemic year of 2020 in a similar way in due course… AND I re-read it this year in a heatwave!! The book tells of a retired father of a complicated Irish family, living in London, who mysteriously disappears one morning… and follows his wife’s and his grown-up children’s actions to track him down. I was somewhat shocked at just how little of the book’s detail I’d retained (I recalled the basic premise, but the characters were far more real this time). I really enjoyed the book (even more so than last time); I love O’Farrell’s writing style, her characters and her ability to tell a good story.
Started Early, Took My Dog (Kate Atkinson): This (published in 2010) represents my last book to complete Atkinson’s excellent ‘Jackson Bride’ series (which, of course, I read slightly out of order!). Perhaps (even) darker than the other books in series… it deals with the bleak world of ‘lost’ women (and children – Madeleine McCann springs to mind); with the greed and power of men; with prostitutes; with ‘druggies’; and with thieves. Semi-retired private investigator Brodie is asked to try to track down the birth parents of a woman now living in New Zealand but, in the process (and in typical Atkinson fashion) his task is frequently overtaken by events - from both the present day and those from long-buried crimes of the 1970s – affecting the other ‘main players’ in the story. Once again (despite the bleakness of the plot), I found Atkinson’s dialogue and rhetorical whimsy wonderfully funny, poignant and appealing.    
Love (Roddy Doyle): This novel starts with two men meeting up in a Dublin restaurant. They’re old friends from schooldays (they’re now in their late 50s or early 60s perhaps); they’re both married and with grown-up children; their lives seem to have taken quite similar paths (albeit that one of them now lives in England). They start drinking… two pints turns to three, then five, then… as they set out on a journey to revisit the haunts of their youth. I like Roddy Doyle’s writing (his gift for dialogue is exceptional), but after 250 pages of this 300+ page book, I got very close to giving up in frustration! It was SO slow and SO repetitive! At times it felt like reading extracts from those old Ronnie Corbett sketches of shaggy dog stories – where Corbett was constantly finding himself waylaid as he meandered down completely irrelevant and obscure pathways! One of the men talked far more than the other (the quieter one becoming annoyed and frustrated in the process – because HE had important stuff to say too). The f-word is probably used twenty times on every single page (and probably more than that as the beer consumption mounts)… but THEN there’s the big reveal (*no spoilers* - so no details) and, it’s then, that the friendship’s true worth comes to the fore. It’s a very powerful ending – both thought-provoking and, for me, memory-provoking. I just wish that perhaps 100 pages of dialogue could have been omitted.