Cy Twombly - at Gagosian Gallery W1 - 29-11-15

Cy Twombly - at new Gagosian Gallery, Grosvener Hill W1

When you walk through the windswept streets of Soho and Mayfair, around Golden Square from Brewer St, across Regent Street all lit up with Christmas lights and half empty of the rich and lazy moneyed masses of the continent, do you feel sorry for the empty shopkeepers of  Diane Von Furstenburg, Vivienne Westwood, Chanel and Swarovski ?

Do you feel sorry for the smart guards, ready to anoint the chosen with largesse, & open the shop doors as if you look worthy of the honour?
 Do you think it will be a good Xmas ?

If you were given a Bafta or an Oscar, would you walk up on stage, accept your award, wait for the applause to die, and then with mock humility, say;

"To all the teachers, advisers, parents and believers, to all the hundreds who have helped me get here, to all those who didn't sack me or forget me, or ignore an e mail or text I sent asking for a favour, to all you generous people, I just want to say, fuck you very much".
If you battle through the crowds on a cold, rain soaked London day and finally navigate your way to the new Gagosian temple of art, that is the message you will receive from Cy.
"Fuck you all, I vomit on art !"

A Cy Twombly squiggle on a blackboard recently sold for $77m.
Mr Billionaire, what is there here? Two pieces of red paint scrawled (pictured) entitled Bacchus. There are also round squiggles in purple on huge canvas, and another canvas with three wobbly lines scrawled as if the artist was on his deathbed and tried to paint with the wrong hand, while holding a long stick with a brush on its end. The beauty of Pissaro's landscapes and Parisian boulevards, Monet's water lilles, Manet's Olympia or his Bar Girl at the Moulin Rouge, Degas at the ballet, Picasso's whole oeuvre, all Matisse, Dufy's scenes of the Baie Des Anges, Bacon's depictions of madness, Freud and his brutal nudes, Oldenburg, Jeff Koons and Banksy's gifts to our land and city scapes.
Forget them all Mr £1bn- Cy gives you empty, pointless scrawl for your millions. by buying this ,you are actively giving a V sign to all the beauty produced by these others. You dont give a f. So long as makes you money, the rest dont matter ...right?

Arts round up October 2015

Arts round up Oct 2015

Why has so little been said this autumn by this (post) august body of thinkers ? We dont spend all our time in bed - honest.

Well, there has been so little to enthuse about. The art shows Ive been to have been lamentable. Frank Auerbach is the greatest living British artist Waldemar Januszach told us in the Sunday Times. Really? Is that all we are left with in this post Freud and Bacon age? How about Hockney? Goldsworthy? Hurst and the other YBAs still creating. Mat Collishaw, Jeremy Dellar, how about Banksy? I didn't make it to Dismaland- Banksys super art theme park in Weston-Super-Mare, but everything I heard was positive and generous. He really is the real deal, not interested in fame and fortune, you never see him in his artistic output. Sarah Lucas take note ; maybe you arent as interesting and your weedy attempts to embarrass men are just feeble and pathetic, not oh so clever like I think you want us to think.
Auerbach at the Tate - so disappointing. Theres not one piece Id really want to own and cherish. What a paucity of ideas. What shall I paint today?
Lessee...oh, the view from the studio in Mornington Crescent ! What, again? Yes , again! If its good enough for Monet, its good enough for me. Plus I cant think of anything else. The early years included a piece that was so thickly plastered with paint, it was a wonder it hadnt all dripped in a long spaghetti like dollop. From afar this one of three figures in a garden was actually quite mesmerising, it has a ghostly quality that amazed me. So I am being harsh, but the later, badly mixed and roughly applied lines that were the "To the studio" series were just boring and low in quality.

The other show at the Tate Modern was  The World Goes Pop. Having paid - well if i wasnt a member - £15 or more, I wouldn't have been happy to see room after room of distinctly 2nd rate efforts by artists from around the world I had never heard of. Where were the Lichtensteins and Warhols I asked? "The idea wasn't to show the famous Americans, but show how Pop was created by artists from other parts of the globe" I was told at the info desk. Well OK, fine. But dont charge mega bucks as if the place was packed with dollar bills, Marilyns and Elvises. It just struck me as disingenuous and not worthy of my favourite art institution.
The best entertainment has been provided by the fabulous BBC radio channels 4, 4extra and 3, yet again. The series of plays, essays and documentaries commemorating Arthur Miller's birth has been a real treat and education. I have heard Death of a Salesman and View From the Bridge with David Suchet and Zoe Wanamaker having a great time with some of the best writing of the post war era. Howard Pinter's The Caretaker with David Warner was equally gripping, but I could not get to the end and stopped listening at a apposite time. Now a minor winge - BBC iplayer is quite hard to navigate, and now I cant find it again !
TV - now the remarkable Shane Meadows series This is England has finished, there is little left. Narcos is great on Netflix, but Homeland really is getting  dafter and dafter. I have a feeling it will end up like Lost, flogging the dead horse while no-one is watching.

Angus McGill - one of the Fleet st old school

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Dancing Thru the Blitz - When Paula Yates saw Lucy Worsley with Jools Holland

The Scene - Gods waiting room - Jools Holland has gone behind the red drapes and met the short man speaking in tongues - a la Twin Peaks...
"Whoooot refru fang yaaan tu ...."
"Um , I'm here to see Paula , she sent for me " says Jools.
"Ooo Kay...go ..." he points onward.
Jools enters a grand room, all huge Ming vases , fancy flock wallpaper and gold trimmed mirrors. A huge bed is centre stage, with Paula, in her finest peroxide blonde era, knee length taffeta gown and Loboutin heels , propped up in the middle by a mound of duck down pillows.
" Jooools " she shreeks, delight and fun pitched high into the rooms spaces. " How lovely to see you again ".
"Paula, its great to see you and everything, but its not my time yet...is it ..."
"Whaaat, no, just think of yourself as a visitor, my friends will show you out. Now, come and sit down, i need to have a teensy word in you ear..."
"OK Paula, "
"Now," she pats the bed in the space between them, coquetish looks and fluttering eyelashes ensue. Suddenly her face transforms into a rage ...
" What are you doing in the same programme as that dreadful, horrid, boring, ugly style-free bell-end i saw on tele last night?"
" Err, you mean Lucy?"
"Yes, I never thought you, style icon and cool chappy on my fave ever programme - The Tube---along with me of course"...cool, flirty Paula returns for an instant..."would ever lower yourself to share screen time with such a hopeless, attention seeking, useless uber UNCOOL lemon as her! How many times can a woman disgrace our sex on TV? She even gets herself doubled up, like a nitemare reflection in the ugly mirror !"
"Paula, things have changed ...."
"I'll say ! Who does she think she is, me? Who was who said I was the thinking man's goddess of the airwaves? "
"Um, was it you ? "
"Jools, you always are so naughty " she giggles. "Every time I turn to the egghead channels, there she is. And every series she puts herself in dead centre. If its about olden times homes, bedrooms and W/Cs, there she is, lying on a four poster or sitting on the hole in the castle wall, knickers round her ankles, acting out a dump as performed by Anne Boleyn in 1456....or whenever it was."
"I think your dates are a bit mixed up, Paula"
"Well at least I had a few dates. I seduced more rockstars on live TV than she has had Tinder matches. And I bet they are balding men who have had a freedom pass for years. My men were the right side of 35 and they were hot !"
"Lucy is alright."
 "She is the saddest sack of spuds Ive seen since Muriel Gray tried to win the egg n spoon race at Pixeys sports day in 85. Now go back, quit immediately , and Jools, spare us your singing while youre about it ! Foxes on heat are more tuneful than youre sorry efforts !"
"OK Paula, you re the boss !"
"Yes I am, and try to hang out with Cara Delevigne and Katey Moss, not some hopeless case from the swots class! Now go , and dont darken my door for 20 years, or I will set Bob on you !"
"OK Paula. Bye Paula."
Exit Jools, fade to red.

True Detective Season 2 Review - with Spoilers 
Nic Pizzolatto - where did it all go wrong?

Having written in defense of the much derided second series of True Detective, I feel like Ive got egg on my face. I argued the fantastic first series had earned our respect and time, hoping it all would be worth it. The 90 minute denoument did not deliver in so many ways.
Colin Farrell as the main male character, conflicted, self loathing bent cop Ray, he seems to be all about his ginger haired, podgy and uninterested 10 year old son. Having survived so many shoot outs, and with freedom, the girl and the money a 30 minute drive to the port away, he puts it all in peril just to take a last look at the boy, in the playground at school. You know, as he pulls off the freeway, that this is a fatally bad move. Sure enough, he returns to the car to see a transponder's red light flashing under the door, and petrol all over the road. Why then does he get in and press on ? Are all his options now used up ? I guess so. But why do it in the first place? This has not been Colin Farrell's finest hour - he has been OK in "In Bruges" and Terence Mallicks tale of Indians and white men trying to come to terms with each other, "The New World". You cant blame him for signing up to follow in Matthew McConaugheys footsteps. His role as Rust in series 1, along with the fabulous Dallas Buyers Club, redefined his career. How to go from lame romcom crumpet to serious, charisma zone central, look at those two roles. It has not worked that way for Farrell.
Nor has it worked for Vince Vaughn. Stuck in career limbo land like MM had been, he may have hoped this role as gangster number 1 Frank, would relaunch him as a cool actor. Afraid not. The character was an anachronism; a stuffed shirt macho man of suits and ties, trophy girlfriend and must win every showdown - never back down values. The thing is, he is operating in the new world of internet crime, Mexican desperadoes and Russian money. If you want a 2015 version of a crime lord, just look at Gus in Breaking Bad. That is original. Frank's comeuppance is so predictable, but the way he refuses to take his suit off and gets stabbed and left to die in the desert, seems so unnecessary. Give the man the suit and walk away . Its worth backing down to have your life spared. His denoument is nearly as painfully drawn out as his parting with his girlfriend , played by Kelly Reilly.
"Just go, I will see you in two weeks..." he tells her.
"No, I wont leave you". It goes on and on. Kelly Reilly - one question; what made you take such a lame duck role ? You have gone down in Hollywood's list of powerplayers and desirable actors to sign up, like Vaughn.

Rachel Mcadams was the star of the show as Ani. The finale seemed to side line her from the action. Someone needed to tell writer Pizzolatto to give her more to do. She could have gone and found out what happened to the missing kids and diamonds. Instead she twiddled her thumbs in a motel room while the two remaining male protagonists tried to take on the bad guys on their own. The last episode had ended so stunningly with the really bad cop shooting our new hero, as played by Taylor Kitsch, in the back. "No !" we cried. But the finale, with the twists of the plot so often resolved by someone telling someone else what had happened, never reached these heights of audience involvement.
If you have run out of money, time or inspiration, cut it short. I still hope we get a series 3, but keep it simple, stupid. This take on California noir added so little that was new to the genre. Chinatown and LA Confidential did it so much better, not to mention the daddies of the genre; The Maltese Falcon and The Long Goodbye. Chandler or Hammet you are not, Mr Pizzolato. Be yourself, but better.

True Detective Series 2 - Tension? Look no further HBO own it ! Also In Our Time - St Melvyn of Bragton deserves the recent TV retrospective, Audiobooks - Branagh and Tennant excel in Life and Fate, but does it make the bench marked by Jonathon Aris fabulous reading of A Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet - David Mitchells's terrifying novel about trade with 18th c Japan  28-07-15

Its increasingly in vogue to announce to any group discussing anything that was on last night that the TV has been jettisoned. I dont know if thats so they dont have to pay the licence fee, or just watch what they want via Netflix or any other pc based platform. I am also unsure if this means they still have access to the latest HBO offerings on Sky Atlantic, which is becoming the only real reason i bother with all this expense. You can most assuredly get all the quality BBC tv and radio output on IPlayer. It makes sense, you watch when you want to, you dont need to wait a week for the next episode if you time it right. The latest 60s set spy thriller The Game was only 6 episodes in total so the complications of the early episodes timing out, as they did during Game of Thrones, doesnt occur.
Theres another group going around making self satisfied announcements at the water cooler who need to wipe the smug expression from their minds asap. The "Im not watching the new True Detective series" lot. Oh, how wrong can you be, you poor fools. You have just missed two of the best action sequences staged for TV since Walt and Jessie looked like gonners at the Mexican pool (BBad). First there was an almighty shoot out between protagonists and bad guys in S2 E4, then an edge of the pants getaway from a high class orgy in a secluded mansion - S2 E6. The protagonists are awful you say. The story is completely unfathomable you say. I cant get passed Colin Farrells eyebrows you say. Well, you should try for 3 reasons;

1-The Protagonists; Three cops, one gangster attempting to become legit.
Cop#1 Colin Farrell plays an unlikeable dinosaur bent cop.  He drinks, drugs, smokes, beats women, he is detestable. He takes about 5 grams of coke in the time it takes Johnny Thunders to play the intro to Jet Boy. It seems quite out of character that he likes the New York Dolls - hed be more a BeeGees kinda guy I'd have thought. So is it meant to be a point in his favour, or is this the go to drug taking song, like Iggys I Wanna Be Your Dog was used in Lock Stock. All this depravity is caused, apparently, because he has to suffer being watched interacting with his son by a social worker. He is fighting his wife for access or parental rights, you see, so he must have a heart somewhere.Waking up in a wrecked room, he phones her and does a complete volte face, which is stretching it even more.
Gangster - Vince Vaughan's character isnt much better, trying to claw his missing $5m back from deadly Mexican hoodlums, and keep his girlfriend happy, played by a wasted, in terms of acting - so far- Kelly Reilly.More later.
Male cop #2 - Taylor Kitsch, is as troubled as Farrell.He has a death wish. We know this because he accidentally discovered the eyeless victim of torture in S2 E1,  by turning the lights of his motorcycle off while thundering along at 100mph on the coast road at midnight. But somehow the cops perform wonders in the crucial scenes described. You cheer them on despite everything.
Cop #3 - It is, by some way,  Rachel McAdams' show. She is also damaged, the hallucinations at the orgy show us why, but more likeable and always excellent, the knife practice routine she goes through, before the orgy burns with speed and aggression, all the while gleaning info about the scene from her sister. When it comes to escaping, the precise use of a blade honed in the routine saves her life, at least twice.

2 - The plot and reality; although it is super hard to make out what is going on between who, the plot is deliberately opaque. You just have to try to keep up and hope all will become clear. Vaughan doesnt really know where his $5m has gone. He was investing in a land deal which would have taken him out of the crime world, but he is now forced to return, and he is up to his armpits in it. Not only do nasty, dangerous Mexican gang bangers threaten his turf, his cop on the inside, Farrell, holds a gun on him under the table in S2 E6. Things are looking increasingly precarious for this super confident macho man, who must not lose face as the bad guys prod and test him for weakness. Then there are the missing gem stones and the missing girls. It is multilayered - lets hope writer Nic Pizzolatto brings it altogether at the conclusion. He has done it before, give him the benefit, you owe Series 1 that.

3 - Tension. Having just survived a very nasty,  hit and miss shoot out in a LA street, with many bad guys spraying bulitts all over the place, the three cops looked utterly shell shocked. The reaction was not button the revolver in the holster and strut off to the bar. It was get down on your knees and try to stop shaking. McAdams is sick. This is how you would feel. But the attempt to infiltrate the party, starting on a bus taking hookers to a mansion by McAdams was almost too much to bear.

When they arrive, everything is confiscated. She stands in a line of girls dressed in gowns. A woman walks along the line, and sprays a substance into every mouth. "What is it ? " she asks the girl next along. "Oh, its great, its just to put you in a good mood". So McAdams has to deal with a room full of
men who have been told to take what they want. All the while her grip on reality begins to fade. She hallucinates an evil face like Bob from Twin Peaks. The other two meanwhile are breaking in down below, to get info and help her escape. What happens next is must see. Believe me and get the TV out of the cellar.

Audiobooks and BBC Radio
Ha ha, thats a laugh you say. I only watch on the PC, the TV is at my dads. So heres a thought. Have you tried BBC radio on iplayer or audiobooks on a platform like audible or youtube. You cannot beat the BBC for radio drama. They own it. Having listened to Dostoyevsky's The Idiot, I am now half way through Vassily Grossman's Life and Fate, starring Kenneth Branagh and David Tennant. Considering this is a 20th century attempt to replicate War and Peace with a cast of 40+ characters who all have long Russian names, this is a masterly production of a difficult book to follow. The familiarity of a voice like Brannaghs makes it so much easier to place yourself in the convoluted and lengthy story. The other problem is much of the action is set within the rat war of Stalingrad of 1942. A more difficult thing to dramatise on the radio is hard to imagine. The quality of script and acting is first class, you must excuse the overdone dashes from pillar to post trying to avoid sniper fire.Some of the battles and explosions are actually pretty good.

I dont think foreign readers have access to the BBC iplayers fabulous back catalogue of programmes, including over 300 episodes of Lord Melvyn of Bragton's In our Time series. Often its beyond obscure; Tagore anyone? But his examination of the Etruscans, or Bruegel's 1559 picture The Fight between Carnival and Lent are a joy. I recently listened to an examination of Wellington and Napoleon as battle commanders. It was all over in half an hour. It seemed so short; the programme was given an extra 15 minutes sometime during it's lengthy run. Melvyn is a one off, as a talking head pointed out in the recent profile of him that aired recently. It will be on iplayer no doubt - tv section.

As for audiobooks, I enjoyed Donna Tartts debut novel, a tale of over privileged Classics and Greek scholars at an American Yale type university, A Secret History. I was bored stiff by the second, The Little Friend. Both were read by the author herself, most capably. But i have found nothing to beat the masterly accents and life breathed into David Mitchell's brilliant tale of trade, intrigue and devilry in 1800 Japan - The 1000 Autumns of Jacob de Zoet. Cloud Atlas was the first tale that translated so well from the page, this audio version as read by Jonathon Aris and Paula Wilcox is the benchmark audiobook, and is even more enjoyable than the ingenious Cloud Atlas film.

#A Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet
#Cloud Atlas
#David Mitchell
#Jonathon Aris
#In Our Time
#Donna Tarrt
#Audiobooks
#True Detective
#The Game
#Kenneth Branagh
#David Tennant

Picasso & Matisse Lovers of Modern art group first meeting - 20-06-15

Facebook group dedicated to Picasso & Matisse and all other modern art - Meet no 1 at Christies and Sotheby's on June 20 2015

The first ever meeting of the Modern Art lovers group was at Christies and then Sotheby's. These pre-auction previews are always great; you get a warm welcome, free cloakroom and thick book - from Christies at least- with (almost) everything to be sold in the day and evening auctions in the week to come. The fabulous Deux Lectrices by Picasso was my favourite piece on show - estmated at £15m by Sotheby's. The wondrous room of ceramics and mugs, vases and other pottery by Picasso was a pure joy .

- make sure you seek it out. Many of these have £50k - £80k estimates. It just goes to show the owl, faun and fish jugs, plates and vases still available at under £5k represent good value in 2015. Even if they dont have Picassos own hand on the bottom - ahem! - they are still worth buying. As these  on sale at Christies at 1pm on Thursday 25-06-15 came from the family collection, they come with a premium value. Just make sure you keep them away from kids and cats! 
There is a most healthy selection of British artworks on sale on the same Thursday evening starting at 6pm. A fabulous Hepworth sculpture ("Two Forms with White - Greek" est £1.3m - £1.8m) and a cute mini-size "Rocking Chair No 2" by Henry Moore (est over £1m) that would sit atop a mantlepiece most easily. Also two top drawer Lowrys , both est. under £1m, a Bomberg and a fab Burra ("Fish stall Glasgow" 1949) both under £0.5m est. The only picture with an estimate over £1m is the Stanley Spencer "Hilda and I at Burghclere" whci has a high est. of £1.8m. Perhaps more impressive was the Bacon triptych at Sotheby's.

Matisse was barely represented except for one exquisite piece. There was an impressive German Expressionism room, some lovely Scheile, one Kandinsky, and three ultra collectable Magrittes at Christies, The Picasso still life was small but lovely, but the large Picasso Christies were pinning there highest hopes has wobbled in expectations, and the Russian money has meant the Malevich abstract black / blue shape has come on as a late replacement in the starring role - £20m - £30m est. I cant help feeling it will go for more than the Picasso, just because Malevich portrait went for so much in the spring sale. We will see this week.

Tense bidding war ends with the Klimt portrait of Gertrude Loew going for £22m - Wednesday 24th Sotheby's Evening Sale -

A fantastically tense bidding war erupted half way through Sotheby's main auction of Modern art and Impressionism on Wednesday night. The auctioneer couldn't decide whether to be patient or bad tempered as the bids kept on coming in increments of point one - or £100,000 in laymans money.It surged to £15m odd fairly swiftly, and then there was a long pause. Fair warning was given, and it seemed the hammer would fall on the sweet but unspectacular portrait of Gertrude Loew. It has none of Klimts usual showmanship, no gold leaf, no arresting coats or emboidery, no flashy, look at me frame. But something seemed to happen in one of the telephone bidders ears, and we were off again. The auctioneers encouragement worked on one of the two parties, and he/she accepted his requests to go up by half a million in one bid, while at the other side of the room, the competition kept on bidding at £0.1m scale. Finally we reached £22m and no end of imploring could bring any more funds to bear. The lady with the plunging neckline shook her head and we knew it was over. With the usual extras, the Klimt went for just under £25m . 

The previously discussed Malevich black rectangle obscuring other coloured shapes went for over £20m, beating the Picasso "Deux Personages - La Lecture" - not Les Lectrices which i previously called it.. This fetched £16m, as did the famous Manet picture commonly known to hang at The Courthauld - "Le Bar aux Folies Begeres". This is a copy or similar version. A Degas went for over £15m, and a Gaughin still life went for over £10m.

Not everything was a success. One of the Legers (pictured above) didnt meet its reserve, nor did one of the Hepworths.  The Matisse i loved - "Femme a L'"Ombelle", a great beauty with an umbrella and seascape went for £2m. The other Leger picture - "La Femme Couchant" - did sell for £3.4m.
The main Picasso ceramics and pottery sale is on Thursday  - day sale.

May 2015 - Go Italia 2015 -See Dantes Inferno and live - only £1200 ! Four gory days in Rome 

May began with a trip to Italy, life was so sweet in Tuscany at a centuries old villa in Monterrigioni to see Kate and Paolo get hitched. So good was the do they will be singing songs in Bromley and Beckenham for years .
"Where Paolo goes, we all go."
The only cloud during those blissful Tuscan days was missing the pre-wedding drinks party when a two hour drive from Pisa ended up taking closer to five thanks to the Maps app on the mobile deciding to go down. No sat nav or ancient style paper maps?  No worries, all you need if your Sony Xperia refuses to work are some intelligible road signs.Cant be that hard, can it ? Ha ha ha !
Here's how it went - we knew we had to get to Siena to have any hope of finding Monterrigioni - but somehow we'd managed to drive into Firenze instead, which would have been nice to have bypassed. We go round in circles in the dark in the most ugly suburbs of a town I've seen since I was in Milan heading for the airport 5 years ago. Round we go.
We ask a group of kids hanging around a lone petrol station in the deserted streets: "Err, scusi, signorina, er, directione Siena?" "aah" - long discussion with friends ensues. Back to us, it included the following, i think: "Roma sinistra, destra, sinistra, diretto, tuuuuti, tuuuti diretto, aqui, destra...directione Fi Pi Li..."
"Oooh, thanks very much"
Travelling companion JK to me: "what did she say?"
Me: "I haven't the faintest ".
On we go, round we go, another hour passes, the same grotty roundabouts, flats, billboards, the same signs say 'Fi Pi Li' left, then 10m later, Fi Pi Li right.
On and on, I get a feel for Dantes inferno...in my head.
Finally we get out of Firenze.
Day after the big day and our goodbyes all done, we head off to Rome, having worked out this leg of the journey should be a synch - a straighforward breeze direct down the motorway. We decide there is  time to take in Siena on the way. We park the car - wander into centre ville.

Blimey, Siena FC were at home and fans were all converging on the ground, like a natural amphitheatre surrounded by hills in this most vertiginous of towns. The whole place is shaped like a volcano, with ancient alleys and shopping streets bending in a permanent arc, every so often a fabulous vista would open up to the left or right. Finally we come across the famous piazza where the town's districts race horses once a year for honour and glory.
Wow factor = 9 / 10
Now, where did we leave the car? Oh FFS factor = 5/10.
Onto the motorway, direction Roma, only it doesn't say Roma on any signs, and OMG - yet again the phone's Map app has mysteriously stopped working, completely. OMG FFS factor = 6/10.
Then the traffic slows right down - two accidents - delays. 4pm. Expectant Airbnb host rings;
"pronto, so you still going to be here at 5pm, si?"
'No, no, I explained to you before, 5pm is when we're dropping off our hire car at Termini  (Rome's railway station), so it's going to be more like 6, ok?'
'OK, but you have to get a taxi from the station to get here asap, it'll take you half an hour - 30 euros."
'What d'you mean, why would we spend loads on a taxi? we can get public transport surely?'
'If you do that it will take you at least an hour - and then I'll charge you a late fee, so you better get that taxi',
'Hang on a minute, what late fee?!  And you said your flat was central, 'near the Vatican' - now you're saying you're an hour away on public transport?!!'
'Listen - you get late fee ok if you not get here - ciao,' click, constant tone = OMG factor 6/10.
Back in the UK, choosing Rome Termini as the drop off location had seemed a really sensible, time saving location. Two and a half hours later, at 6.30pm, having been through the hell of finding the way first into central Rome and then to the railway station through one of Europe's most mental cities to drive in, JK is nearly in tears and I've been nearer to a road rage incident than in 30 years driving in UK.
I locate the Sixt car hire desk - deserted. Nearby man on another desk;
'scusi, dove, Sixt?'
Shrug, incoherent gesture, = va funculo? .OMG factor 8/10 .
The horror of the next thought takes my mind directly to the gates of Dantes inferno. It dawns on me we are going to have to keep this flaming car another night, park it and keep driving in this madness - with no idea how to find the flat.
We ring our expectant hosts again. JK does the talking. What did he say?
" He said if we don't get there within half an hour, he 's fining us".
"You are joking".
"No, and he shouted at me. He's really angry now." OMG factor = 7/10.

Over an hour later we admit defeat and finally have to resort to being found by a search party sent by the charmless (eg Roman) host and his icy female 'assistant'.
After narrowly being rammed twice, missing two pedestrians by millimeters who just walked out across a six lane road, looking the other way, and having missed seeing many sights , except in my peripheral vision - I handed over the punishment cash and thought the hell was over.
But oh no, not until you are in bed does the inferno die down. We went out for food, and on returning to the flat, I found I couldn't get in. The key looked like it was from the dark ages and no end of wiggling, pulling, pushing, lifting would entice the lock to shift. Oh yes and I'd left my phone inside the flat so we had no way of contacting them. Off we trooped, back to the restaurant where we had just spent 30 euros on pizza.
"Err, prego, can we use telephono ?"
"No"
"Oh but it's an emergency"
"No"
Ho ho, these Romans, they are such a loveable bunch!
JK: "please, the number is in Rome and we really are in emergency"
We show the number is local and get to phone the charming assistant lady.
"Oh, ha ha, yes , the lock is a bit difficult, you just need to...."
Instructions follow, we go back and hurrah, we are in, the day from hell is over, the inferno recedes, at least for day 1, err, or is it?
,

We take a good look round charmless ones place. Nice big terrace, TV works ! And fantastico, theres a kettle ! Turn it on, everything goes dark and stops. OMG factor 9/10. When will the 24 hrs from hell end, not until we are in hour 25, thats for definite. I find the fuse box, i throw every switch, ha, it all works again . Thank you Lord. Shall i risk the kettle, I have been looking forward to this cup of tea with increasingly fevered anticipation as the hours have passed. Try again, yes ! Never did a drink taste so good ! The bed, the pillow, hello bed, goodbye day from hell.
Day 2 starts with numero uno proirity, to return the rental car to drop off at Termini. We renegotiate Rome's roads without death, destruction or a pull by the many different types of cop in Italy. We get to the top of of the designated very hard to find multi story car park, having managed to replenish the petrol at an Italian garage. So complicated and confusing is the system that enterprising migrant men earn a living from tips having explained the process to us drivers.
You must pay first. Into an automated machine that gives no change and only accepts special Italian top up cards and 10 euro notes. Think that's confusing? Wait till you get to the drop off point for the hire car. One notice says "Do not drop your keys into the box below". Underneath is another notice
" Drop your keys in the box below ". FFS factor 8/10.
The man arrives. He inspects the car - a crappy, Air Con less, Sat Nav less, mini grade thing. He notices a dot, like a stone chip on the paint work. He writes copious notes and gets me to sign.
" Everything OK ?"
"Yes, no problem. Go to office now ".
In the 'office' - the desk back at Termini, the man spends for ever on the phone. I am not told why. I am Inglese, clearly equivalent in social status in Rome to a sewer rat. I give up trying to explain the problems we'd had when the man produces a miniscule leaflet, that was nowhere to be seen when I'd arrived at the deserted desk the day before, which has tiny writing and what appears to be a flowchart with mysterious symbols on it.
'See this is multi storey carpark, black white building very easy - no problem, no-one here yesterday?
anyone can follow!!'

After 20 mins, I am told I can go. I am too grateful to be out of there to double check that I won't be charged 250E for a new paint job.
First stop on my tour of the sights, the Colosseum. When JK tells me the steps inside are made for giants I realise I am too tired to even try. Then the Forum, the Capitaline, the Pantheon, Piazza Novarro, the Spanish Steps. There is so much. At the steps I can only lie weakly as my stomach has reacted badly to eating half a tub of Haagen Daas.  We make a special effort to see the Trevi Fountain at night. It is under scaffold and glass - no water, just dustbin trucks circling.
JK then walks into a plate glass window at a gelati shop and bangs her nose, very hard. She bursts into tears: "It's all so stressful - I just want to go home!" she cries. My heart goes out to her, it has been stressful, and our financial position is going so far into the red it feels like we will be in debt for years  to come, and we dk how much SixT are going to charge for a stone chip and day late return charge. Gulp, dont think about it, FFS enjoy yourself!

Jk bravely insists we must finish the planned squares at night tour and take in Piazza Navona, despite a worrying feeling I voice that we should be finding the bus to get home as there is a tube strike. We pause for a commemorative photo of the throbbing red nose by the famous fountain.
When we find a bus nearby that's going in the Vatican direction and thus ours - we feel blessed. I ask the driver - with a man sitting near him trying to stop me talking - to let us know when to get off. I keep asking - battling the belingerent old bastard who's getting increasingly on my case. All the other passengers stare at us impassively. Some time later we realise it looks like we are heading out of the city and perhaps we had better get off. Stepping down, we pass an incredibly unusual city dweller, one who is genuinely helpful and speaks English.
But you're miles away from where you need to be!" he exclaims "Didn't you ask the bus driver, or any of the passengers ?'
It turns out we are a two hour walk from home - with no chance of any transport, no passing taxis, no help. There is nothing for it but to put our best foot forward. One small advantage - in having to circumnavigate one half of the giant wall surrounding the Vatican, we see how huge it is, No wonder its got its own post office and bank. ~If you think walking around Buckingham Palace is bad, try doing this !
Day 3 - we go to the Vatican museums. So massive are they, it takes an hour to get to the Sistine Chapel.
"Silenzio!" again and again the cry rings out. We are shouted at, cajoled, told to stand up, take off hats, move, don't move, sit, don't sit. All the time you are craning your neck, trying to make out what Michelangelo had in mind, and what am I meant to have in my mind? Not Dante, I am fairly sure. It is incredible. As are the Raffaele (Raphael) rooms. The School of Athens is the easiest part to appreciate, being in front of you, not far off on the ceiling.

Wow factor = 10/10.
It is absolutely unmissable and the highlight of the entire Italian tour. And that includes the Day 4 trip to the legendary Cinecitta studios and its huge outdoor sets.  Roman centurions filming a swords and sandals remake of Ben Hur by the Russian director who did Leviathon trooped in front of us. There's also "Christ the Lord" in the making, and Ben Stiller was due to arrive the next day to film Zoolander part 3 on the set Scorsese had burnt down for the climax of Gangs of New York. Hollywood on the Tiber lives on, apparently.

Wow factor = 2/10.
Cinecitta was great and the staff were charming. I can only assume they weren't true Romans, because they universally treat us Brits like the shit on your shoe.
Back in the tube on our way to the airport, as a final last salvo, we were crushed yet again by the ruthless entry gates slamming abruptly shut on us - it felt like the last straw. "What the fuck is wrong with this place?'  I screamed at the unconcerned staff sitting in clear sight of us in their control room.
They bashed on the glass and screamed back, 'Davanti, Davanti!!' pointing furiously at another totally incomprehensively sign. Ow factor = 8/10.
I loved Rome, but the Romans are an acquired taste, and I am yet to acquire it !

Note = Fi Pi Li = Firenze Pisa Livorno - tutti directione !

Fortitude vs The Banished - bafflement reigns as TV USA wins again

March 7 2015 -Battle of the New TV series ; USA Fortitude vs UK The Banished 

There are three things you need to get right if you want people to watch your TV series, episode by episode;
1) Create a world people want to revisit
2) Create characters people want to see again
3) Create a story which  people want to watch
In other words, make your fictional characters do and say things in a world which is interesting enough for your viewers to tune in repeatedly.

The Americans have got so good at this they dont really bother with all three anymore. The Wire proved you can pack a series with dozens and dozens of characters and if the rest is dynamic enough, people will follow it. They will even pay for the entire series on DVD and watch it all in one go, even if it takes from 9pm - 9am on a school night. With this in the back pocket, Breaking Bad  proved the characters can all become despicable drug dealers and doggie killers and the viewers will still pay money to mess themselves up in order to find out what happens.

From the USA Sky now have the totally incomprehensible Fortitude - so complicated and full of horrid selfish animal killers no-one I have watched with has ever known what the hell is going on or what the half the characters are called, but so engrossed and bewitched are we by this incredible "world", we are glued to it anyway. Stunning shots of the lake ( or is it a fjord?) at night, with an ice wall suffusing the world with nocturne blue. Wow, when can we go there for a vacation? We think it's set in Iceland, but it could be anywhere really cold. So cold nothing can die there -we are told it is forbidden- and nothing ever decays there. It would be like dying in the fridge, you will be preserved forever. Unless you are the preacher as played by Christopher Ecclestone, who does manage to die, and even loses most of his vital organs having been treated like Mary Kelly or any other of Jack the Ripper's victims. Who dunnit ? Is it some long dead monster from prehistory awakened by mining? Well it can't be a person as arresting as Sophie Grabol, smarter now she's dumped the jumpers of her previous hit The Killing. But still quite memerising as the star of the show, chief of the island, and quite clearly charisma queen of the Arctic.
On the other side the BBC aired its big hope of the spring. Set at the opposite end of the earth, it's probably filmed in Docklands, so little do we see of the outside. The Banished told a miserable tale of convicts setting up shop down under, in the time when all Brits were evil, not just some as in Fortitude. The world is the most woebegone, disease ridden cesspit imaginable. In the same way Midnight Express killed tourism in Turkey for 20 years, this series is doing Australia's tourist board no favours.

Women are constantly in danger of being raped or married. The men are all raping murdering wrong uns. Racism there is none however- phew. But Thingy Rind Tutt (the good looking cool one from the Barclaycard adverts he did with Hollywood superstar Stephen Mangan) ends up on tip toe with a rope around his neck. We are not sure why - no-one I watched it with had a clue - the norm around here I am afraid. He wanted to marry the girl, but wasn't allowed, or something. He had had to be held back when the girl was lashed by the British wrong uns. So not all Brits are bad, Russell Tovey is the other convict who has survived months of hell on a rat and scurvy struck ship, only to almost plead with the red coats to flog him so the girl's reputation isn't besmirched. As if ! Who is the girl? No-one round here the faintest, but that won't surprise you by now. It ended with the noose tightening round Thingy Tutt Rynd's neck as the bucket his last toe clung to began to topple, and the other woman shouted words at him that might be the saver, in a replica of my daily trials with the whims of the local cash machine. You have three attempts to get your password right, it will not spit back the card, but spitefully holds it in its jaws as the seconds count down to a weekend of begging..get it wrong and you have two more attempts to shout the right word or it's all over. Desperate, the other woman shouts "Crucifixion" and everything stops. The bucket comes up right, everyone relaxes, the boss comes out , and just like my money and my card being returned to me, Julian Tutt Rynd lives again. Why? I won't even begin to explain about the bafflement on my sofa.
Suffice to say The Banished is grim, rancid, ragged and depressing. What is good about it? Rynd Tuttle and Tovey...but I would rather do battle with the local cash machine than sit through this sorry mess again.
Now what is that password anyway? If you try and fail, and then fail again, try "Crucifixion", it works in Oz apparently.

#Fortitude
#Extras
#stephen Mangan
#BBC
#TVseries

Sotheby's Impressionism, Surrealism and Modern art sales - Feb 3 & 4, 2015

Sotheby's Surrealism, Modern Art and Impressionism sales Feb 3 & 4  2015 London

What they went for ;
Monet -Le Grand Canal - £23.7m
Monet - Les Peupliers au Giverny - £10.8m
Matisse - Odalisque au Fauteuille Noir - £15.8m
Toulouse Lautrec- Au Lit; Le Baiser - £10.8m - not seen for 40 years , til now....

The big money came for the Russians, and seeing as i saw one bid from the room during the hour or I so I was watching, it no doubt came from Moscow on the phone. It was a bundle to get to a phone in the room, no mobiles were being used, only old fashioned corded diallers it looked like. Kandinskys Moscau II went for £6.3m, way over the estimate, and the Malevich self portrait, a weird circular piece went for £5.75m, top est being £1.5m. But for me the oddest price was an ugly Seurat profile with little artistic flair and no colour; it went for £7.75m.
More understandable was a sweet but fragile Picasso Owl sculpture going for £1.25m. Then another strange angular sculpture described as a Tete, Maquette went for almost £9m

Yet one of the Pissaros didnt sell, nor did a Braque, Matisse sketch and a Chagall. The other Pissaro went for over £2m. And how about  £7.75m for a Gino Severini. It was Monets night, this lovely piece , L'Embarcadere went for over £10m. Takinginto account a mere £8.77m for an Antibes view, Monet made over £40m with just four compositions. The impressionists still rule !

 Preveiw
It was as packed as I've seen it on Sunday afternoon at the New Bond St London HQ of Sotheby's for the last days of previews before the big events. They start on Tuesday afternoon when the lesser works go under the hammer, the price range generally starting at £5k and then going up to £25k on the whole. The main events are the evening sales on Tuesday with Surrealism and Modernism and then on Wednesday the big hitters of Impressionism are up for grabs. Estimates are modest for this type of auction - lets call it the Premier League of art collecting, with the main work most definitely being a Monet with an estimate of £25m - £30m.

Nothing really stood out for me at first sight apart from the 1984 Basquiat - pictured - which was judged to be one of his most coherent pieces due to a lower intake of drugs when composed. Its a large canvas, and the expert explained the New Yorker worked incredibly fast, often finishing a large work in a couple of days. Most artists would take months to cover such an expanse. Of course Jean Michel wasnt too fussed about rough edges; the white blocks are painted with household emulsion rather than anything grander. The Warhols were non-descript, as were the Cy Twomblys.
Excellence there was aplenty however. The Magrittes were classy, as was the Delvaux, Derain, Ernst and as always, Joan Miro was a stand out artist - see Danseuse (est £0.5m) and L'Oiseau (est £2m - £3m). He is rapidly becoming one of my top 5 all time artists, and Picabia had a lovely work called Cornelly with a top est of £250, 000. Now maybe the time to bid for these super modern masters; none could be better than the two Matisses on sale ; 'L'Odalisque au fauteuille noir ' and a lovely view of his room with a window "Interieur a Nice Femme Assise avec un livre ".
The Impressionism and Art Nouveau was stronger with some sketches by Klimt and Scheile going for relative peanuts, as were some of the Picasso pencil sketches. The major league Toulouse Lautrec - Au Lit Le Baiser is a fabulous rendition of what all those salon and Maison Closes scenes are all about - sex. The estimate is £9m - £12m

Pissaro was at the forefront of expectations but to me these were way below his high point of Boulevard de Montmartre and the Paris boulevards night scenes that sealed his reputation. Some nice works by Jablonsky and Cross were every bit as commercial as the bigger names. Lets see how well they do on the 3rd of Feb.


www.sotheby's.com



http://www.sothebys.com/en/news-video/videos/2015/01/highlights-london-surrealist-art-evening-sale.html

Master Movie Maker - Nic Roeg

The 70s - Films golden era - Nic Roeg

Nic Roeg had a stellar career, working as a cameraman on 60s movies like Masque of the Red Death and more significantly, Lawrence of Arabia.
But it was 1970 when he hit the peak of his career , starting with Performance. Donald Cammell was removed or resigned depending on who you listen to, and Roeg was left to complete that wonderful clash of the old London; shooters and blags as personified by gangster on the run James Fox, and decadent, bohemian London as seen in washed up rock star Turners free love and drugs lifestyle, played by Mick Jagger. It was a new type of film and it was hugely influential.
Roeg followed this tour de force with a string of superlative movies. Set in Venice, Dont Look Now is probably the best known, starring Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie, it is one of cinemas all time creepy, haunting movies. Trying to escape the misery and mental torture afflicting the married couple after the accidental death of their 7 year old girl, sutherland takes a job restoring a church and takes wife Christie along. but the historical weight of the ancient city soon bears down on them, and a meeting with a super scary clairvoyant elderly sisters makes her beleive her child can be reached in the after life. I defy anyone to tell me the last ten minutes are not some of the most masterful, intense and downright scary sequences you will ever see.

Following this hit, he paired his wife Theresa Russell with another rock star trying his hand at acting, Art Garfunkel, in Bad Timing. Now in Vienna, this is the quintessential Roeg movie. Time shifts and mixed up chronology are beautifully fused with three fabulous lead characters. Garfunkel is a quiet psychologist, Russel is a most modern 70s woman, living for the moment. And Harvey Keitel is great as ever as the detective playing Garfunkel along as he realises what becomes a murder case has missing time in the evidence which questionable sexual activities have been carried out. Russell was never better, and although Art never became a movie star, he is perfect in the role.
There is something about Roeg and the music world as he brings David Bowie's best performance out of him in Man Who Fell To Earth. again, fantastic new techniques add to the sci-fi element of the story of Bowie trying to build a rocket to take him back to his dying family out there in the cosmos. If only the producers had used the Low soundtrack which was created by Bowie and Eno for the film, this would have been an even more incredible end to the first half of the 70s. when you add Walkabout to this fabulous collection of movies, this is a master film maker blazing a trail . If only I had been at the event in 2008 at Riverside studios, when he introduced a programme of his greatest hits, being honoured by the London Film Academy.