The best TV & Movies of 2014

Film / TV of 2014  11-12-14

Having listened to Jason Solomons list of the best movies of 2014 on Robert Elms always interesting show on BBC London 94.9FM today , I have thought about my favourites this year. Jason included" Nightcrawler" with Jake Gyllenhall as a creepy opportunist ambulance chasing newshound, which I thought was a terrific comment on modern day inter-personal communication and the news agenda. I currently think  "Welcome to New York" is my favourite release of the year; Abel Ferrara is back on top form, pushing back the taboo boundaries in a similar way to his 1992 success," Bad Lieutenant". The tale of the cop falling apart starred Harvey Keitel, taking crack and praying in a church having disrobed, created a media storm at the time. It is unlikely this time round seeing as the story of the notorious depravity of the high profile French politician whoring his way round NYC was barely seen in a UK cinema. Nor did it go straight to DVD; its fate was even worse; straight to stream online. That says it all to me about how we in the UK cannot cope with adult films about sex - as opposed to adult sex films - we can cope with them OK.

How different the times are now for Abel Ferrara, Dario Argento, David Cronenbourg as well as Harvey Keitel, Nick Cage and David Lynch. The careers of these cult figures tend to go through peaks and troughs; many of them have had their biggest success for aeons this year. Cronenbourgs "Maps to The Stars" was one of the best films about Hollywood I have ever seen, and is my favourite movie from across the pond (USA). Us Brits can take credit for many high points of the year including Mike Leigh's "Mr Turner" which got better and better as it went on, after a low key and clunky first half hour. Dario Argento has announced a new film of the Sandman comic legend with Iggy Pop as the eye-eating monster who haunts childrens' nightmares. Should be great, especially if Dario can persuade his daughter, Treedown Gotobed's favourite actress of modern times - Asia Argento - to take part.

Two biopics were similar in many ways including the rampant egotism of their main subject. "Finding Fela" was another DVD release that deserved better, especially as the man was such a megastar. Alex Gibney's documentary does not shy away from the awkward aspects of his story; the huge joints he would smoke on stage, the 27 wives he married in one ceremony, and his brutal, sexist bullying of women. Fela's unapologetic credo has the African husband always in charge, and always right.

His fantastic band - so tight they made Paul McCartney cry - left him after his control freakery got too much. As did James Browns Famous Flames, who upped and left after being fined for every mistake by the self proclaimed Godfather of Soul.

Starring Chadwick Boseman in a lively performance, The James Brown story "Get On Up"was entertaining and interesting, detailing his dirt poor childhood through to the swift rise to success and battles with the payola system that had a hold of the American music industry. Dan Akroyd plays the sage manager who takes him all the way to top of the R&B charts and often No 1 in the main Billboards charts as well. Both films excel on the music front which isn't surprising seeing as both artists were superlative geniuses.

But 2014 was another year ruled by the TV series. No more Breaking Bad - we had True Detective . My goodness, what a master of the charismatic alpha male Matthew McConnaughay has become. And even us Brits - so lagging behind in this arena - had our own product of equally top quality. Just as Finding Fela had me speaking in a Nigerian accent for the rest of the night,The Fall has used its Belfast location to great effect. Not so much the city itself, but the people, and that accent became deliciously alluring when Boss cop Gillian Anderson sent a simulacrum into the police cell to bump the beautiful male psychopath out of communication shut down. Dressed in Stella's signature outfit and with her long dark hair deliberately styled to mirror Paul Spector's preferred victim type, the young officer delivered news of being 'further arrested' in the most spine-tingling seductive manner ever seen in a British police station. The female superstar - all restrained authority, sexy silk shirts and pencil skirts, is backed up by an ultra-modern take on sexual relations between consenting adults irrespective of gender. As the male anti-hero Jamie Dornan delivers dollops of sex appeal and charisma to match any American heavyweight as they play out their cat and mouse psychological mind games. Top effort, and full marks writer/director Alan Cubitt and the BBC drama dept - can't wait for the next series in 2015.

Orion Mars mission

Mission to Mars - Id rather go to Neptune - 07-12-14

According to Bloomberg, the money NaSA need to send the Orion capsule to Mars are astonomical. And even if they get the $22billion they need for starters, Orion may not make it to Mars...

"The Orion space capsule that launched earlier today has been under development by NASA since the mid-2000s. But, watching it splash down in the Pacific ocean four hours later, you'd be forgiven for thinking of the 1970s. The capsule, which by some reliable estimates cost over $10 billion, didn’t accomplish anything that wasn’t somewhat routine for NASA in the era of the Apollo moon landings.NASA, however, is encouraging a very different view.  Rather than admit Orion's many shortcomings, it has boldly  promoted the mission as the first step in America’s journey to Mars -- or, as NASA tweets it, America's #JourneyToMars

It's laudable, of course, that a perpetually under-funded government agency -- one that hasn’t sent a crewed mission beyond low-Earth orbit in forty-two years -- is able to muster this sort of long-term optimism. But optimism alone won’t send a jumbo-sized space capsule to Mars. You need money, and lots of it: a recent National Research Council study looked at several mission pathways to Mars, including Orion, and saw no possibility that any mission could be accomplished for less than hundreds of billions of dollars. In contrast, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) expects to spend $22 billion on Orion and the Space Launch System rocket by 2021 (according to the Government Accountability Office, a true accounting of Orion’s costs has not been provided by NASA). There's no reason to believe that greater volumes of money will ever materialize.  NASA, in other words, intends on spending vast sums of money on a Mars capsule that will not be going to Mars."

A trip to Mars would mean missing 10 Victorias Secret shows - minimum

Now this may not be such a bad thing after all. Lets take a look at what we know about Mars. Theres not a whole lot going on there. In fact, fuck all goes on there. You might as well send the astronauts to the Sahara for a year or two and save them the discomfort and danger of the take-off, the 2 year journey, and the touch down. Even if there is no touch down, and they just bypass Mars and carry on to someplace else, and frankly who could blame them,they still need to bring Orion back home at some time hence.

If anyone thought for one second that Martians were going to materilise I'd be all for it. Never mind Martians, if anyone thought the tiniest worm might crawl out of the red sandy surface, it might justify a few dollars to go there. Then we could all say - "hurrah, its ET !"

But even that seems a forlorn hope. So NASA is going to send those privileged sops to the most boring planet ever discovered. Id rather they went to Planet Hollywood and ordered 50million burger and fries for the undernourished Africans who need a good meal. Go to to see Spurs play, go to the jungle and bring national treasure Carl Fogarty back to Bolton, Go to Russia and call Putin a pansy...you never know what might happen.

But going to Mars is a round trip to nowhere useful, entertaining and not worth terraforming. Go the other way NASA, arent Neptunes moons worth a quick(ish) trip?

Adam and The Ants - Islington Assembly Hall 14-12-14

Adam and The Ants – Islington Assembly Halls 23-11-14

There was something unique about the atmosphere at the Assembly Halls on Adam And the Ants final night of four sell out dates in Islington. The crowd consisted of rock’n roll people dressed up in their highest heels, best hats, Cramps emblazoned leather jackets, and of course lots of DIRK WEARS WHITE SOX T-shirts, the like I haven’t seen for many years.
When the young band launched into Cartrouble and Adam Ant began by asking that question " Have you ever had a ride in a light blue car ?" - it all got too much for me and I launched myself into a pogo along with a few others that we sustained for the entire number . Wow – I didn’t know my legs still had the bounce in them.
The entire first LP was run through, then we had a rest period when Adam and band sat down and played some new songs on acoustic guitars. When a second drummer appeared in white goth haircut not seen since the last night at the Batcave, my excitement levels began to reclimb.
Sure enough there followed the cool hits – Dog Eat Dog, Xerox and a magnificent version of Kings Of the Wild Frontier. I think we all felt like “We are Family” by the end. Adam remains a charismatic front man and still retains a great rock voice.
We hung about talking for so long outside afterwards, I had to run up Upper St to get the last train home. Now there’s another thing I haven’t done for many years!

Toast + Bad Behaviour 2014

Toast of London and Bad Behaviour 2014 at Brixton East 20-11-14

Araba Ocran has put together a varied and enjoyable show at that fantastic new space in South London's heartland- Brixton East. The opening was packed and Im afraid some of the pieces positioned in the middle of the ground floor came a cropper.
"Hey dude , so good to see you " said one perfectly sober attendee. As he made his way through the crowd a fabulous pair of concrete socks that doubled as candles got knocked over. The poor chap looked mortified, but the socks had survived and looked fine when i returned to the spot later.

One of the best pieces was being projected onto the wall opposite outside. Kevin Tillett describes himself as a laser artist, and his 45 minute long loop of words and shapes was superb.
Inside Madeleine ross told me about her bronze light which she had bashed and worked into shape on a sturdy plinth. Plenty of sweat and tears had gone into it, and it was attracting attention - deservedly.
On the ground floor, the next generation art work of robot wars was unavoidable as it moved towards you like a triffid on the march. Lots of fun and well worked too.

My absolute favourite piece was by Ruth Murray. This was fabulous - lovely detail, a great idea of a family making a person out of spam , and delightful, delicate colours.
Get there before Sunday.

http://www.bbehaviour.com/exhibitions/1-bad-behaviour

Toast of London 

Is there anything better in life than an uncontrolled belly laugh. Matt Berry in Toast of London touched every one of my funny bones the other night in Episode 2 of the new series. "Desperate Measures" had the nasty, foul mouthed, bad tempered , child unfriendly Toast trying to direct an am-dram version of Calendar Girls, as well as appearing in Blue Peter while smoking a fag, and having been in a plane crash, threatened with the worst fate for ex-actors , poaching rabbits with Nettles (John). Advertising Red Carpet cigarettes for the Congolese market is how it starts and ends. Beuatifully crafted and written, it stars all sorts of great character actors including Doon Mclaghlin as his agent. The other episodes have been great fun too - a blow football match for high stakes with his arch nemesis, and then the first actor to tell whodunnit in the Moosetrap.  Set the Sky box to record


series.

The Ghosts of Main st - 14-11-14

The Ghosts of Main St - 10-11-14

The outcry of woe that followed the Hollaback campaign video of an actress being shouted and leered at by New York men has made most New Yorkers feel embarrassed. How can the world’s most progressive city be so packed full of Neanderthal men? Where is all this shouting going to get them? Not into her good books, that's for sure. So why do it?

All women learn how to deal with the male gaze in their teens. As soon as those boobs arrive men of all ages start to take notice. You are on the radar - an eye-magnet. You best be ready girl. Every time you step out of the door with a bit of slap and decent fitting clothes on, men are going to notice you. The white van men, the taxi drivers, the drivers generally, the motorcyclists, the shop workers, the pedestrians, the others in your vicinity. They notice. What they do depends a lot on them, but also on you, how you look, how you react. The tom cat calling is just trying to provoke a reaction because they themselves feel invisible; they are the ghosts of the High St. "Hey girl, I'm here. Look at me!" It's generally nothing more.

Would the same amount of catcalling happen in London? Or Paris, or any other world capital? No, because the American male is loud & self confident. The London male is a down-trodden, confused person. He has got no idea what he's meant to do or say. All he knows is he is a pathetic, down-trodden and confused person.

Just look at the current output of UK based culture - the films, the art, the fashion, the music. Women are in charge - make no mistake. Notable recent contemporary major art shows have been by women; Sarah Lucas - an endless pee take and power play over the male sex - right down to the Sunday Sport cuttings on the wall of a dwarf sexpot, boasting of her conquest(s). Tracey Emin, another big show with the list of 'conquests' in her tent of glory. What have the men come up with? Judging by the Turner prize, that emblem of the new, the best next gen artists...pitifully little. Three men have each been chosen for video installations of the most mind-numbing tedium you wonder if they should bother giving the prize at all. Two of the men seem obsessed with gynecological pictures and clinical, emotionless examinations of genitalia.

The prize is bound to go to the one female who has bothered to add some colour and life to the room, Ciara Phillips. In the others spaces you have to go into a darkened room. The spectator exists in the shadows, as if to be looking at the material is shameful and one wouldn't want anyone to know you are there. And then you scuttle out, sullied and degraded by these male artists' adolescent preoccupations. And even the two pervs are better than the pure pretention of the third man, Duncan Campbell. His Chris Marker / Alan Resnais tribute ‘It for Others’ is possibly the worst art "piece" I have ever beheld.

That includes Gilbert & George bending over and holding their Y-Fronts apart so we can get a good view of their hideous rear parts...all surrounded by the materials these parts produce. To be worse than that is some achievement. Everything about it made me want to commit violent destruction on my surrounds. Seeing as I was in Tate Britain – one of my most beloved places on earth – again this was going some Duncan. Well done! If you want a personification of UK man 2014 – Duncan maybe it. Pathetic, confused, weedy and so pretentious it makes you feel ill.

Then look at the British male offered to us in films - what do we get? Yet another costume drama in Mr Turner - Tim Spall huffing and snorting whether he is in pursuit of a sunset or a tortured sleazy coupling. And The Imitation Game - more shame. One of the best, most truly adult and thus challenging films dealing with sex is Steve Mcqueen's Shame but I dont think you could say it's British - so firmly does it reside in that 24hr city where we started - NYC. Do you get my point – UK man right now is not a proud confident person, is he?

Hang on a minute - wahtabout Tom Hardy - star of every second of Locke- the film that makes a tense situation out of a man driving a car while trying to organise a mega-conctrete pour. Tom Hardy is the embodiment of the British Alpha male in 2014. If they were casting James Bond now, Daniel Craig - theres another tough nut - would be out, Tom Hardy would be in. so we are not all having a crisis of confidence in the Englishmens b(l)ogs. Its just that most of us are.

The French on the other hand display that incredible confidence when portraying sex in films like 'Welcome To New York', 'Blue is the Warmest Colour' and the not one but two part 'Nymphomania'. None are directed by Frenchmen but it's the fact French money has got them made in French that is significant. It's a permanent wonder to me that I can go to my local library and get these movies out on DVD - how fantastic. They all contain sex scenes which would have been cut in the 70s - think Last Tango and the fuss about the butter scene for example. All three of the above contain far worse, more graphic scenes, as does that Cannes lauded but woeful nonsense Holy Motors by Leos Caraix.

In fashion - why are men put into skin tight shorts and long socks nowadays. It's yet another attempt to desexualise, demachismo the male on the street. At least on the catwalk! Music - it's all women - FKA Twigs, Lorde, Lykke Li, Lana Del Rey...who are the top men dogs...err Plan B ? Professor Green (no)? Actually Plan Bs movie ‘Ill Manors‘about life on the East End streets was fantastic , but sexy it is not, and the women lead dreadful, bullied and abused lives.

But there are worse places to live than Bethnal Green for girls. We could move to Saudi, and not be allowed to drive! We could go to Japan, and behave like little girls or be ostracized from the family. We could go to Pakistan and have our marriages arranged for us at 14 by our 74 year old grandfather. Go anywhere in the third world and you will be a 2^nd class citizen. Or one can revel in one’s sexiness here in Europe. Maybe we get approached by men – sometimes often. Yep, life is tough girls. We put our noses in the air and walk on, we judge the wretch because his clothes are not good enough. We can blank them and move on in the pub, the cafe, the street. If women were nicer to men when they get the courage up to approach them, you wouldn’t find this vengeful tone on the streets . How would you feel girl, if you went up to some guy you thought was dishy and he just turned his back on you, like you were a piece of dirt. It does not feel good, believe me .

So what about those mofos who follow you for ages, won't go away. That kind of stalker-like behaviour is what gives the male sex a bad name. What can be done about them? Dk. Lock em up, pepper spray them, what do you suggest. Deliberate intimidation is not on, ever. Threatening to rape the actress on Twitter? You are a revolting bully...just do one.

There is one fate that awaits the eye-magnets - the supermodels of your peer group - even more horrible than ending up with John McCririck as your beau. It happens to us all. You become a ghost of the high street as well. In your forties the creeping feeling of the ghost pulling at your skin, loosening where it used to be tight, blobs where it was smooth, takes over until no matter what you do, what sky-high heels and figure hugging dresses you don, what haircut you have, you are just not there anymore. Like Bewitched – a wiggle of the nose, a swish of the tale, snap – you are gone! You have become the invisible ghost of Main St.

Then you will feel like shouting at them - "Hey boy - look at me - I'm here on your sidewalk! Now how about a wolf whistle?"

Pete / Petra Budgie for Treedown Gotobed blogspot

Mexican Day of the Dead Festival at The Bargehouse SE1 - 29-10-14

Day of the Dead Festival - The Bargehouse SE1 - 29-10-14

The opening night at the Bargehouse was one of those events where you wish you had dusted down the Paul Smith suit and the Prince style platforms for men, packed as it was with Amazonians that towered over you, even when stood on a sneaky step. One of the attendees must have been 6ft 6ins without the heels.
Many Mexican embassy staff marshalled us with grace,and the whole event was totally brilliant.
A room of b/w photos of WW1 veterans was a touching opening space. Onward and upward to floor 2 and floor 3 where the action was.

Fabulous HD photos of proper Mexican Day of the Dead costumes;the subjects covered in bright yellows and oranges, greens and blues, material, body paint and heaven knows what else. The triangular pieces along a wall were stunning in their beauty, and then there was a macabre room of wood like sculptures by the Chapman bros.

The floor ended with the geodesic dome constructed by Kayle Brandon and Lady Lucy, which will be covered with drawings and art works by attendees at the drawing exchange events at various cemeteries in the next 3 days. These include the Crossbones cemetery at Bunhill - no doubt linked to the famous plague pit, and Highgate East cemetary where Karl Marx is buried. The dome will be spectacular by Sunday, and I expect to be there to see it dismantled.
A totally brilliant night was capped by one of those moments of serendipidity you might be able to dine out on, (well at least get a swiss roll out of). I was explaining I loved London because there is always something of interest to be seen around every corner.

My friend was struggling with my concept, but just then we turned into Hatfields to see a large crowd gathered under a railway bridge, apparently all watching a huge row between a man and woman.
"Its one of those walking tours " I predicted.
As we approached all became clear. It was a promenade theatre event; the man had been attempting to leave his graffiti and tag and the woman had objected to him destroying the environment ( I think). There followed a full on, foul-mouthed slanging match with the arguments for and against the gentrification of London boroughs, delivered with brilliant clarity despite being yelled and featuring a foreign accent. It was amazing to stumble upon, especially at that moment and captured exactly the point I was trying to make about why I love this city.

www.dayofthedeadfestival.co.uk 

Late Turner + Turner Prize 2014 at Tate Britain

Late Turner & Turner Prize at Tate Britain 10-10-14

What would Turner make of this years prize, a decent enough question seeing as its named after him. We currently have an opportunity to imagine his frame of mind in later life, by examining many large and bright oils and more petite watercolours in the current show. He certainly put in the hard yards , no flipping through books in a library or listening to audio tracks on a computer for him. Much of these late works are composed from hillsides and lake views in Switzerland, with a familiar view of Lake Lucerne with its causeway over which trains still cross today. Then there is Lake Zug and and the famous mountain of the area – the Rilke I believe. He went back to this part of the world ten times and produced lots of work, some of which looks unfinished as the canvasses feature large white expanses – unusual for him.

Turner ended his career specialising in capturing a moment – that special moment when the sun bursts through the clouds like a celestial spotlight, blinding the onlooker with light. Or that millisecond when a steam train thunders across a viaduct, creating a foggy smokey atmosphere, through which one can not only glimpse the locomotive, but seemingly see inside the engine room, all sparks, sweat, motion, fury. He might be leaping what is really possible in this most famous picture ; "Rain, Steam, Speed - The Great Western Railway 1844", but most of us tend to overlook the artistic licence to allow for the overall effect. Atmosphere became his speciality and some of his best work can be seen in the Tate’s current show. There are some delightful views of Rome , ancient and modern, as well as fires as seen at the Houses of Parliament 1833 and at The Tower of London.

How do you create mystery and atmosphere when your chosen medium is video? Its not something any three of the four artists short listed for this years Turner prize attempt. They all seem to have reached the same point of view regarding art ; make a super annoying – ( Richards, Vonna, Campbell)} ultra pretentious – the one based on Chris Marker and Alan Resnais – “It for others” – Campbell , and extremely offensive and boundary pushing – Richards film featuring Robert Mapplethorpes xxx cert photos of male on male sex. All three are beyond any kind of excuse for art – they are accompanied by the most tedious, pathetic audio tracks imaginable – the only feeling any of them left me with was frustration that this utter drivel has been chosen not only for the Turner Prize, but to represent Britain at the Venice Biennale.What a bunch of utter, self important twerps the Italians who saw it must think we Brits are.

Whats worse is that the only artist the “panel” could find that didnt contribute a daft film was Ciara Philips screen prints which have been used to wallpaper her space. The only good thing here were her posters of revolutionaries like Riviera and Che Guevera. Really decent subject matter and didn’t make you feel like self harming within two minutes of looking on. Well that’s got to be worth £20k in itself, hasn’t it ?

For what its worth I think Duncan Campbell will win, as his was the only room that people didn’t rush through while averting their eyes from the art they were here to see. In Campbells room about half a dozen people were actually watching the film, without shouting out “when’s Emmanuelle on? “ or “I was expecting to see Saw or at least Machete ! “ or “boo I want my money back “ or the funniest “even Gilbert & George is better than this !”.But this was the most execrable, pretentious work I have seen in a long time. Truly dire. Congrats Duncan!

Welcome to New York - 2014

 Dir - Abel Ferrara, 
 Cast - G Depardieu, J Bisset

Following the revelations in Gerard Depardieu's new autobiography that he was a nasty little shit during his teenage years, casting  the obese French star as a thinly disguised, but physically huge and morally grotesque French politician is a masterstroke.

Apparently based on Dominique Strauss Khan (aka DSK),the ageing bon viveur whose time in control of the IMF has set him fair for a run at the next Presedential election. Depardieu is well beyond caring how he may appear while engaging in prolonged panty, pervy sex with a succession of party girls, and surpasses all non-porno male performances in sexual staying power and never ending depravity in the opening 20 mins of this excellent movie. With the exception, perhaps, of Michael Fassbinder in the last 20 mins of Steve Mcqueen's Shame, he lets it all hang out like no other.

Having started his visit to a New York hotel suite with a lengthy and violent looking bj from a blonde, he carries on with a visit from two more hookers for another sex session, the other party people having long gone,  doubtless exhausted.
Depardieu is utterly believable in the role of a sex addict who happens to be a grande fromage in gay Paris.When he drops his trousers ready to be pleasured in the opening scene, his huge gut takes up so much of the shot, only widescreen will suffice  for us to see the rest of what goes on in the room.

The fateful lunge on the unsuspecting chamber maid in scene 3 is another masterclass in unselfconsciousness, while attempting yet another depraved, violent, unpleasant sexual act. Having been arrested and remanded and then ultimately bailed to live in NYC while awaiting trial, he is quite remorseless as he discusses another vulgar embarrassment with his wife - Jacqueline Bisset still looking elegant and sophisticated - who has bailed him out yet again.

He seems quite baffled. What is all the fuss about? He only made her touch his penis with her mouth. He didn't have sex with her or anything like that. "What is wrong with these....people" he spits with as much venom and contempt as is fitting.  And so it goes on, the conversation between them is accompanied by Gerard's increasingly desperate attempts to conjure forgiveness from his bitter wife, who is ever more repulsed by what her husband has become. Theses exchanges are a real treat, Bisset giving another clever acting class as a beautiful, intelligent , wealthy woman who apparently has it all but is trapped by her fame and humbling circumstances. She has to stick by her man by whom she can not bear to be touched, because the alternative - the public shame and indefensible position a "guilty" plea would leave them in, is even worse.

This is a monster protagonist drawn from the real world, not the pages of Robert Harris or JRR Tolkein, Mary Shelley or the Brothers Grimm. Abel Ferrara is perhaps best known for low budget shock horrors like Driller Killer. But the more recent The Addiction and The Funeral from the 90s, as well as the infamous Bad Lieutenant featuring another out-there performance from Harvey Keitel, demonstrated he had class. This tour de force proves it beyond doubt. Lets hope the court case he will no doubt have to fight when DSK sues for libel does not put an end to the career of a talent that is ready for the big time proper. I just doubt that his next release - Pasolini - will be the one to put him there.
P Budgie - for Treedown Gotobed - 06-09-14

Knole Sevenoaks 28/09/14

Sevenoaks is an easy trip from SE London, all you need is a car or motorcycle, or by bicycle it is well within the range of today's fitness fanatics with the light, silent machines, and enough money to get you in.
For us four wheel folk, that will set you back a mere £4 to park in the grounds. Some people were walking from the town, but you need at least 30 mins extra and power in the legs to spare.
Knole means a spot on the top of a hill, so hills there are plenty to climb. But you do get to dwell on "The Gallops", so named as it was where the landowners of past generations chased the deer along a glorious grassy meadow, overlooked by wooded hills on each side.
The deer are still here, although no rutting was seen by your correspondent and his party. Just some dappled fawns and mothers, and the odd adolescent male with antlers just poking skyward by a foot above the eyes and ears.The map of where the deer had been spotted that day showed they were at the far boundaries, well beyond our capabilities.

Going round the 12 or so rooms open to the public only set us back £10.50 each. There are 365 rooms to roam, but only 12 accessible to us plebs. The ubiquitous wood panelling was wondrous, with secret door panels visible behind the omnipresent ropes.

Actually, Knole is almost apologetic about its roping; you are invited to walk on the rugs and touch certain off cuts of tapestry and textiles, just to show you how badly these materials wear. The main long gallery filled with portraits of noblemen, wives, cardinals and dignitaries is one of several at Knole - designed to provide Elizabethans with a place to exercise in bad weather while parading before the gaze of their illustrious relatives - leads you to three huge vases and then into the Billiards Room. Two "After Titians" look over the ancient billiard table, with a collection of cues which are bent at the end. Are they rests? The notably personable and friendly staff soon answered my question.

"Did you know Billiards began as an outdoor game , played on grass, with mallets and hoops?"
"Well no"...
"Hence the green baize and bent, mallet like cues...Why are they called cues? "
"Well, I dont know"...
""Because they turned the mallets around when the game came indoors, to use the small end of the stick to pot the balls. And the French for back-side or rear-end is cul..."
"Like your bum" I so eloquently clarified.
"Exactly. Do you see this rope here," the man added, pointing up at the ceiling at what looked like a bell pull. "This is where the term dumb-bell comes from, as it was weighted so gentlemen, ( aka knights ) could strengthen their sword arm by pulling on it repeatedly but it was silent of course".

The next rooms featured four-poster beds, ornate silver guilded mirrors and other ancient silver wear and furniture.
Knole really does ooze old-world atmosphere, that makes it easy to understand how the writing of Orlando by Virginia Woolf came about. The presence of so many ghosts is so far from oppressive. The house is presented as a celebration of past lives having enjoyed this wonderful house, set in 1000 acres of medieval deer park.
Vita Sackville West lived here and breathed life into the place, but because she was a girl, could not inherit. So off she went to Sissinghurst to have more gay affairs, possibly with Woolf,  no doubt slightly displeased with that particular [salic] law.

Map to the Stars / Gods Pocket

Dont believe any negative reviews of these super movies, they are both not to be missed. The hellish Hollywood of 'Maps' is brilliantly dark, cynical and sick. The spoilt teenagers are endlessly amoral and horrid about any peers and elders who cross their paths. The older generations, personified in particular by Julianne Moore as a star facing middle age and desperate to win a part, are no better and are transparently, equally amoral.
The story touches on incest heavily, ghosts haunt the protagonists in a chilling way, and family members who have a wicked side re-emerge to further corrupt the druggy, pestilient existence of the
monstrous members of the main family. The 13 year old boy and main wage earner of the family is quite something; nasty as any Mexican cartel member in the head. When he starts playing around with a loaded gun, you truly fear for everything in that room.

Gods Pocket - another winning performance by much missed Philip Seymour Hoffman as a loser trying to keep his head above water in a world where everyone is about to drown (their sorrows)...most have already done so and long given up. Mad Men star Christina Hendrix plays a down trodden (isnt everyone ) MILF who is easliy seduced by the sorry (isnt everyone) local star reporter, bald, wrinkled, sozzled (isnt everyone - ie henceforth) who writes a storey about the death of Hendrix horrible (ie !) son.He thinks he is doing the neighbourhood a favour, but the locals who inhabit the local bar (e) dont see it that way.

Matisse The Cut-Outs - Tate Modern Sept 2014

Art - No doubt the Matisse exhibition at the Tate was the highlight of this art summer. Of any summer. The first large room was my favourite - to see the entirity of the Jazz book he knocked up in the 40s was a delight.It was published in 1947 by his Greek friend Teriade, with whom he had collaborated with the Verve magazine.Only 100 original books were released, composed of 20 colour prints and accompanying text. The finished article was exhibited together with the original "Maquettes". Pins were still in situ, slightly rusty and bent, but still doing the job. Each page featured a picture and was mirrored with text opposite. Sometimes the subject was obvious, but a fun challenge came from those with a weird French title which gave us Anglais no clues. So you had to work to find out what you were looking at. The circus themes were joyous fun, sublime collages and brush work with bold colours adding to a lucious extravaganza of pleasure for the eyes and brain. The Trapeze was super, as is The Fall of Icarus. Despite the subject matter of the latter, the sheer positivity is all encompassing and winning.

This is one of the great works of the 20th century; bold, unapologetic, a melange of material & colour and a happy mess of glue and rough edges. To see the original work added to the experience twofold. I must have spent an hour among the crowd, lapping it up. There's no anguish here, unless the scrawl of words that accompany the pictures express another story. I gave up trying to make it out, the words are written with a brush and the joined up writing is in keeping with what appears to be a stream of consciousness type commentary on art. Worry not, the pictures express a childs eye joy of which this old man, stuck in his wheelchair, determined to wring every scrap of genius out of his broken body, was a magnificent standard bearer.

The confident large compositons such as The Snail followed, as did the Blue Nudes - perhaps his most famous image? Then designs for the Chapel in Vence,including the vestments and stained glass windows, to which he devoted huge amounts of energy and time, as it was fatefully running out on him. Another awesome treat; first you see the rough cut design by Matisse, then the finished window, a lovely melange of blues, green, white and yellow, backlit to maximum effect.
What a fantastic show !
P Budgie 25-09-14

Sonic Imperfections at The Montague Tuesday 12-08-14 - by P Budgie for Treedown Gotobed

They keep telling us New Cross is the next Shoreditch , sandwiched by Peckham and Deptford, it is edgy; aka rough on the Old Kent Road.But this monthly event is worth travelling into SE London's nastier recesses to see some wonderful arty music acts that hover on the line between daftly pretentious and innovatively beautiful. Think 1977 and Bowie's release of Low. Side 1 was all crashing drums and clever lyrics like "Always Crashing in the Same Car" and that masterpiece about writers block , "Sound and Vision". Then there was side 2. A burgeoning punk rocker at the time, I hated it. Now its my favourite record of all time. Philip Glass has written an orchestral composition  based on it, now released on CD. And a supergroup of musos has also released their version of the Low / Heroes ambient pieces by Eno & Bowie. What is it , 35 years later and those records are still reverberating around the music world. You have to admit, if Bowie was still based in Beckenham, he would be a Sonic Imperfections regular, always greedily consuming the new; Neu, Can, Kraftwerk etc.

None of the bands are to this standard, but the best, Iyatra Quartet were magnificently well drilled and developed some delightful melodies, with no electronica in sight. Just cello, violin, guitar and drums.They are a must see.

Last night featured three different acts, the old world instrumentation of Laura Cannell. The voice music of Georgina Brett, using effects to make her voice a weird instrument. Pyne Mwamba Duo both played vibes with wah wah pedal, effects and unusual bowing and and blowing into the amplification. It was sometimes laughable, but mostly the music was slow and atmospheric, and when they stopped pounding, it was frequently melodic and interesting with an arresting, sudden beauty springing out of the strange loops and noises. It was like looking at clouds on the horizon, and fleetingly seeing a stunning red sunset burst through the greyness. 

These are the nights when musicians let themselves go. Laugh all you like, in the end you may miss something extraordinary.

Next Sept 9th - Julia Mascetti, Alison J Blunt (tbc) and Collectress

Breaking Bad - were the protagonists paid that badly ? P Budgie for Treedown Gotobed - 10 -08-14

People are still debating the merits and problems that arise from the actions and consequences of our heroes - Walt and Jesse. What a fabulous work - how to use the episodic format of TV to its limits. Take time, let the characters develop, let them develop histories while we watch. If a new viewer has missed a series, you best go and catch up. These guy may inspire love and devotion, or loathing and repulsion. It depends on you. They do bad things. They cook a horrible addictive drug that lays waste to people in  quick time. Walts wife Skylar is a great totem of changing values and tolerance of terrible things in the name of her family. Jesse becomes a self-loathing mess, apparently on the brink of tears thoughout the final series. Which is a shame because he is the most human and in many ways, lovable of everyone wencounter. It is Hank, the apparent doofus, forever lowering the tone of family gatherings, who ultimately outwits them all.
Credibilty is stretched somewhat beyond the limits but we accept and carry on watching. What about the storming of horrible drug dealing psychopath Tocus HQ by Walt in series 2 ? That would have been suicide. Come on. And as for the remote controlled machine gun, auto massacring the badies after a remarkable piece of parking by Walt near the conclusion...really...that is just daft. But nevertheless, the whole thing is a triumph that so many of us love to bits.
Anthony Hopkins wrote it was the best acted thing he had ever seen. Only The Wire can come near it in terms of compulsion to watch the box set in one sitting.
And it flourished in popularity through word of mouth. The way it was shown on British TV was scandalous. Minority channel FX picked it up and proceeded to show it at graveyard spots.So most of us have gone out of our way to find it, download it, beg or borrow it. Talk about having the world at your feet, Bryan Cranston won so many acting awards he must have become the object of envy in the profession. Fashion photoshoots, interviews, Malcolm in the Middle reruns, Cranston was set to dominate like a Clooney or Pitt. So what does he do ? Godzilla followed by Cold Comes the Night. The less said about the former the better. But the thiller with a cool title in which he plays a nasty East European gangster is horribly cliched. You must have been offered better ? And Aaron Paul,doing Need for Speed ? These films are just so execrable they defy comment. Teenage? It probably only appeals to the younger teens who may not be allowed into the cinema to see it, if it is a 14 cert. If not , it must be truly, trlu really lame.
Fellas - time to fire the agent and get yourselves into some more quality stuff before you blow all the goodwill you have accrued. Cranston, you should have grabbed The Counsellor lead , you would have made a lot of difference to what should have been a great movie. Aaron PAul - beware the TV shows you go on - Top Gear is a laugh but the Star in the Car is always a nitemare. Too many mistakes fellas, you would have been mincemeat in Alburquerque by now.

The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt - rvw by P Budgie for Treedown Gotobed blogspot

Donna Tartt does not churn them out - this is her third novel published in the last 30 years - The Secret History announced the literary sensation to the world in 1992 - selling 5m odd copies. In the 760 pages of the hardback edition of her latest work, she is attempting to deal with many weighty subjects of the day, which is not easy. Our world is changing ever faster with the development of communication technology. When you consider the works referred to in The Goldfinch it is apparent she is aiming high from the company she seeks to keep. The picture itself is a masterwork by an obscure Flemish artist - Fabritius - who is the direct link between Rembrandt and Vermeer. The book itself uses the caged bird as an emblem in the same way as Keats, Shelley and Blake;
To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour
But a robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage...
As for prose, there is clearly one book this must be compared to; Dostoyevsky's The Idiot. She alludes to it as the tale nears its conclusion in the same place it begins - Xmas time Amsterdam. "Well, Idiot was very disturbing book to me," says central character, Russian moral loose canon Boris. The ensuing discussion summarises the Idiot's theme; to do good does not always mean good things will result. How much more difficult are these moral dilemmas in 2014 than they were in 1860, 1950 or any other time in history. The Goldfinch is based around a morally questionable act, the taking of a masterpiece from the MOMA in the chaos and debris following an explosion in the bookshop. This is the only time the book reflects that most 21st century threat, the third world terrorist destroying buildings and inevitably killing strangers in the name of religion.
The characters are all such 21st century beings, our teenage narrator, Theo, struggles terribly. His attachment to Boris results in endless drinking, thieving, and girl obsessions. Only Hobie, the furniture and art restorer to whose orbit our narrator is drawn, represents past centuries' certainties; working the wood and grain of a table leg, re-varnishing a picture in the same way it's always been done, even with a hint of a cheat to make it look older than it is, perhaps concealed within his work. Theo, travels from NYC and trust fund wealth to a weird and wild few years with Boris his only friend, living on the fringes of the desert with his father, who is making a shaky living as a gambler in the casinos of Las Vegas. And then back to New York, to be reunited with the security and social stultification of The Barbours, who take him in as an orphan, and an engagement to one of the offspring. And all the while the stolen painting lurks in the background, stashed away, hopefully safe from damage, debt collectors and dodgy teenagers.
The explosion not only has the effect of giving Theo the eponymous masterpiece, he also loses his life's one real constant, his rock; his mother. Its third consequence is to introduce him to his life's love - the young girl at it's time - Pippa.
Theo becomes a drug addict almost by accident, pecking at a snatched bag of pills like they were smarties - how about a red one ? or a green one? And his beloved painting becomes mixed up in the shady world of drug deals, sex deals and people deals that go on in the realms of today's dark side. The one ever constant in this world of shifting sands, rough seas, of betrayal, double dealing and dishonesty, is the things, the art we leave behind. For some, life becomes entwined with the preservation of these objects of desire and beauty. But to the work of art, to The Goldfinch,and the artists that create them, we are mere ciphers of the future.

Here's a couple of extracts from this tremendous page turner..The first is almost thrown away , nothing much is happening, but Theo is in the midst of drug withdrawal and some of the certainties on which his self confidence depends have been whisked from under him, like a table cloth pulled so fast it leaves all the cups and saucers still standing on the table, but the tall glasses are wobbling precariously . This paragraph is magic, its sweep a microcosm of the vast array of human experience, works and thought that is touched on in the book, pointing to the infinities Blake may be referring to in the poem quoted above.

This second page is another lovely example of Donna Tartt's talent of bringing a clever idea about art into the centre of the action, without any feeling you are in a digression. This idea that all great art touches you on a personal level is so skilfully delivered. And how true it is of books like this one, as well as bands, plays, poems, songs. They speak to you . Tolstoy would regularly hold the action in War and Peace while he inserted long essay about military tactics. Dostoyevsky similarly would divert from the narrative to insert passages about ideology. That other great tome known to all graduates of American Literature, Moby Dick, has chapters devoted purely to the various processes that were part of the whaling profession in the 18th century. Tartt repeats herself slightly in the enjoyable last 10 pages that act as a summary of ideas. The action has concluded to all intents. The delightful piece on the way The Goldfinch has been created, the use of the brush and the blunt, scalpel like application of some of the paint, has already been discussed in Horst's drug den, in a joyously intellectual and knowledgeable level at odds with the environment. But I enjoyed the analysis of the work so much, I was happy to read it again.

Having finished the 760 pages in about three weeks, I immediately returned to the beginning to start again. My main objective was to find out when you first learn the sex of the narrator. I still cannot identify anything within the first ten pages. You try.

Budgie likes De Sade, but wants a Rokoro most

The Other Art Fair - Ambika 3 - Marylebone Road NW1 . 24-04-14

Every artist i spoke to seemed well pleased with the reception they had received from the packed preview night at this hangar like basement opposite Madame Tussauds. There was a general buzz of appreciation as we gently navigated our way through the vast array of art on show. Standard price was £200 - £400 for an original piece, with not a lot on offer for £30 as advertised. Not one thing, except a drink at the bar perhaps.
Some lovely taxidermy was in one corner, including a gorgeous peacock. Intricate wire works featuring the Moulin Rouge and other buildings had me fooled into thinking we had found the 3D printing stall. David Wombwell has created some nice graphic art including a homage to Picasso that caught my attention. Penny Stanway was well worth a linger but there were a few stand out artists who deserve a special mention.

Dolores De Sade had a nice line in inventive scenes including two pieces named "Apparatus for inducing Vertigo" which were really special in their simplicity. Her smoking monkey holding a dog by the tail was striking and carried a cruel theme that runs through a lot of her work. She is one to watch and I feel sure she must be a branch of the Marquis' family tree. She told me it's possible. No, probable, i replied. And I mean that as a compliment!

Dolores De Sade listens politely to your correspondent

For artistic accomplishment, the laurels were shared by the austere work of David Stockley, a regular at the fair. His painting of travelers in front of a London station has so much atmosphere I was reminded of Edward Hopper and Last Tango in Paris at the same time. Colour ran riot in Thomas Dowdeswells sweet shapes of Velodrome, working Leger and Riley at the same time...

Processed People by Thomas Dowdeswell.

But star of the show was not Tracey Emin, although the camera crews and crowd must have made her feel that way.The cut out Boys Own annuals of Alexander Korzer Robinson - see Rokoro.co.uk - were stunningly beautiful and brilliant. £425 seems reasonable for a one off creation, the pages of the book have been cut out to reveal a multi layered journey of dazzling originality and forethought. True one-offs, the books have glass panel covers through which you can pick out multiple scenes of life and thought, that have been left visible when the rest of the book has been discarded. You can literally look through the book without touching it.The prints were another masterpiece of care and precise scissor and scalpel work by another Robinson, Robert.Pete  in Baker St