A few of my favourite things

Here's three grabbed shots of things that caught my eye, bounded by painterly stokes in varying strengths, all supplied by the yellow line man. The first kicks off a series of extreme littering (watch this space for more), apparently sponsored by Red Bull. These seductive deep blue and silver cans really seem to be popping up in the most unlikely places, maybe it is the increased arm strength supplied by the power drink that contributes to the far reaching impact of these little urban souvenirs.


Next up is a picture of a sunlit circle atop a boiled sweet-like remnant of dark beer, spoilt only by the now well documented fag but floating like a rat in a water tank. And the scene is all set in a geometry of swishing lines, changing levels and different materials that are individually unremarkable but occasionally conspire to make satisfying combinations.


And finally the yellow line man's best friend, the fluorescent spot painter has been at work here. Rarely seen, he creeps about with his can of high powered colour and discerningly adds an accent to make a 'just right' addition, a modern Jewel-like detail within a mundane scene, he knows exactly what he is doing.

Berry berry nice

Came round a corner at the bottom of my road the other day and found myself squidging through an immense and abundant carpet of beautiful Yew berries. These cloudy red products with their poisonous pips are from one of our oldest trees. They are from what is almost a street tree, overhanging from someones front garden and not a particularly grand example, but I hope a least a few of its progeny will result from this dramatic drop.

Fluttering Eees

Came across this moment in a residential part of London the other day. I'm not sure what the carved capital 'E' in the granite kerb stone is for or why it is set at such a casual angle. The chance meeting between it and this fallen leaf seemed to perfectly symbolise the yin and yang relationship between permanence and ephemerality.

The Art of Product Placement

Now I think I've alluded to my weakness for urban shelves before and here's a small selection that caught my eye recently. The top one is a wonderfully grand improvised plinth for a contrastingly modest supermarket beer bottle. It really doesn't deserve this perch but somehow rests happily there, clearly abandoned, but with some care. It draws attention to the stone gatepost and provides a dash of red to set off all that green, a nice touch.


Next is the old fag packet on utility cover routine. Of course if there were some cigarettes in, it would be a case of lost property, if on the other hand it is empty, then we are probably looking at a case of 'last fag, sling and go'. There is casual impulse at play here, 'I may come back, this is my regular puffing spot, that's where I keep them don't you know'. An extension of someone's in-door, personal space spilling out onto the pavement arena.


Last up is the 'berries on the box'. What we have at play here are a number of factors, one being the artex textured grey box, probably an anti-graffiti covering, but it is not ageing well and puts me in mind of rented accommodation and bad landlord repairs. The saving grace to this installation is the retro, bulging red indicator light, (although it could do with a rub from a clean cloth). And of course the smattering of berries that have dropped from a nearby street tree and whose presence atop this rather ugly platform turn it into a display of winter morsels for little birds.

This Country Needs More Knolls

I walked past this hump today and thought it would be a topical subject with it's smattering of Autumn leaves. It's really just a rather modest knoll, set amongst an avenue of trees, but it always tickles me. Not shown to its best advantage in this photo, I wonder whether it is naturally occurring or man-made and if anyone has stood on top and and uttered forth - it's a real invitation for any passer-by to get on their soap box. I can't help thinking of the 'grassy knoll' made famous by the JFK incident whenever I pass this one (perhaps because it is situated next to a road). I am going to be looking out for more organically adorned, hump shaped wonders on my travels, so this may be the first in a series of sightings.

Video Nicey

Pulling up at a queue at traffic lights recently I opened the window and glanced out to be confronted by this exploding nostalgic scene. Since then I've passed this top-loader regularly, marooned on one of those 'no-man's land' strips of public space that appear to be beyond any one's responsibility and hence a sanctuary for things that don't belong.

How did it get to be here? Was it a trip to Cash Converters gone wrong? Or even an case of that modern phenomena 'technology rage', caused by an intermittent, fault that got this relic flung from an unhealthy height. These things aren't exactly portable which suggests it got here with some degree of intent. No doubt it will remain a contemporary mystery and I'll be left trying to work out the ethics of whether this is a case of radical outdoor museumology that qualifies as an addition to the cultural landscape or a 'tip of the iceberg' example of a new advance for public dumping which is a subtractive blight on society. But I have realised that I've grown to like it in some hard to describe way and when it does eventually get removed (as no doubt some company has the contract to clean such left over land near to highways) I'll remember this slice of video-graphic history fondly.

Passive Smoking May Harm Your Buildings

They say society is crumbling, well, it bloody is. I'm liking stone at the moment so imagine my surprise when this so called permanent material that is holding up civic land turns out to be coming apart at the seams.

First I saw a little bit that had fallen off, to leave a soon to be rounded edge where a sharp block had previously been. Well you know, ce la vie, I thought. I'm privileged to see a bit fallen off I thought, probably only happens once every 150 years, might be the frost? Next thing I know there's another big bit lying on the ground, nice bit of detail, gone to the dogs. Now I'm thinking this isn't natural selection, something more sinister is at work. Could be all that acid rain, but I'm not sure were getting so much anymore. Could be some of those careless delivery drivers with their sack trucks banging into things and knocking chunks out of the fabric of the place? For a moment I imagined some teen goths with their big reinforced shoes bouncing them off the walls.

And then I noticed all the fag butts, everywhere I looked, millions of the damn things and I thought oh yeah, all those toxic fumes, nicotine crazed smoky joes puffing their semi industrial waste matter all over the place, maybe that post-ban invasion of the streets could be having adverse affects. It's certainly a phenomena of sorts, and its quite charming at times to see them all chatting away under streetlamps with a hint of that elusive Parisian cafe culture wafting past. But a plague of cigarette butts ten times worse than locusts and battling through clouds of smog worse than in the industrial revolution takes the romantic edge off it a bit, and now this.

Anyway not too sure about the science of all this but it raises some important questions about, well global warming and that. If its in the natural order of things for bits of buff stone to flake off, well that's okay. But if it's being precipitated, accelerated, then, you know, maybe something should be done about it before the walls of the city come tumbling down. So it got me thinking, maybe we are witnessing the first signs of the grand downfall of man (people-kind) and we're just hurrying by, thinking well, maybe it's supposed to be like that.

Shep

On my way home I spied this little fragment attached to a car park fence. The bit that's left of this ripped down WARNING sign suddenly becomes rather charming in a 'one man and his dog' kind of way.

Careful observers may notice the strands of grey wire running horizontally behind these railings. They are in fact what remains of a fake electric fence complete with lightning bolt hazard signs that frightened passers-by and protected the boundary of what was a yard for a swanky car showroom. Which seems a little bit nazi, especially if a little kid pokes their fingers through the fence while their mom is distracted, so lets hope that wasn't future proofing but just a bad case of call my bluff. That all makes this newly designated dog walker all the more approachable as he swaggers along with one hand in his pocket and faraway thoughts under his hat.

Bickle's Trickle

There's a passage-way in the city centre that I often pass through and it seems to be a kind of zone of transience. There are still some red phone boxes down there and its unusual now to see people actually making calls from them, but they do get used for all sorts of other things.

Often I notice someone has left a religious pamphlet in each one. Sometimes I see a passing character habitually checking the change trays for unclaimed coins. Now that can't account for much of an income these days but I remember doing it as a kid and the effect was a bit like winning on the slot machines when you actually come away with a free coin or two. You'll see a smooching couple of young people in there once in a while as well. Today one contained a small bottle of vodka, disposable cup and bottle top set out on one of the little public shelves. Was that a difficult call to make or just a handy cubicle for a quick stiff drink?

As I moved on the smell of disinfectant hit me from the tide of gloriously splashed mop water caught in the sunlight. The stones of this apparent sanctuary from the spotlight of the city are frequently blood spotted and piss stained leaving unwelcome clues to last night's dramas. I was reminded of that famous quote by one of our popular icons of direct action citizenship, Travis Bickle. A complex character who was of course a bit misguided, but in his own naive way a proponent of civic values, 'One day a real rain will come down and wash all the scum off the streets...'

Mr Smooth and Mrs Shiny

Metal things polished by countless human touches are currently rockin' my world. There's just something amazing about substances as hard and 'permanent' as metal being changed by the gentle, incidental touch of passers by.

I came across this sun licked example on a kissing gate near to the Church yard where Sixties singer Nick Drake is buried on an Autumn stroll. It was enjoyable to feel the smoothness, compared to the rough finish on the rest of the metalwork, and to know that I was imperceptibly contributing to this communal tradition.

There are other examples that I pass by most days, some like the metal utility covers beneath our feet are buffed by default, others like the extremities of public statues are conscious rubbed like a lucky Buddha's belly.

Brolley Monsters

I've seen a lot of these recently. Our windy and wet Summer has created the conditons for a mini epidemic (I may exagerate slightly) of abondoned and dead brolleys. Now since when did it become acceptable to dash down your brolley at the point it ceased to serve you effectively instead of disposing of it appropriately? Or has it always been one of those things that its okay to dump at will on a blustery day?

I am taking note of the things that we are tending to see 'abaondoned' that people appear to have 'inadvertently left behind'. Most are much less poetic than the rash of spidery, umrella carcasses that seem to inhabit their own subterranean world and rest assured I'll be featuring some further examples .

Perhaps people think that they can be mended and some old umbrella pixie will be glad of the semi complete workings to restore and re-sell on the black market. Or that one of the few surving rag and bone men will scoop it up and weigh it in, after all there's some good metal in that framework. Or is it that they want to set free these other worldly mutants to live out their days and take their chances in our forgotten spaces?

Fake Jolly Roger

Just got back from Turkey, where there are a lot of fakes. I mean serious amounts of branded goods, piled high for sale at knock down prices. Right now 'Diesel' is massive as is 'Von Dutch', amongst lots of other high street names familiar to most of us. Someone told me there are no copyright laws in Turkey and that figures as the tourist streets are like dodgy UK car boot sales without the threat of lurking Trading Standards officers - they proudly advertise 'genuine fakes'. Just goes to show how bonkers us Brits go for 'labels'...

In the spirit of free appropriation so prevalent there I came across lots of these adapted Jolly Roger motifs, it was surprising at first to see this outlaw brand claimed by officialdom. But the skull and it's accompanying lighting bolt 'crossbones' set into concrete quickly became ubiquitous as almost every telegraph pole carried one. And very effectively they conveyed their message too, whether or not you know what 'Ulum Tehlikesi' means.

The red stenciled version illustrates another strand of interest I am looking into in relation to street signage - when signs go bad. I am seeing more and more degraded, worn out and poorly constructed signs that none the less manage to hold onto their meaning and continue to function despite being almost eligible. Some are practically subliminal and seem to permeate our consciousness without us even knowing.

Mosaic can save the world

It might seem a slightly outlandish claim but I've been snapping examples of mosaic tiling, mostly incidental architectural embellishments (rather then feature pieces), and I am becoming convinced they can have a civilising influence.

The example above was bathed in hazy afternoon sunshine when it drew my attention with its scattering of blues and contrasting scale and qualities with the surfaces that frame it on either side. I get the impression a lot of this kind of tiling dates from a particular period when it was more fashionable and seen as a slightly exotic and long lasting form of embellishment (1950's-70's?). Now that much of it has visually receded and become part of the fabric of places, indeed is hardly noticed, it's humble 'randomised' schemes seem to exert a kind of power that speaks of quality, colour harmony and a kind of painstaking care. I've seen enough to believe that more mosaic tiling in public spaces could help save lives.

So imagine my pleasure and sense of confirmation when I came across these wonderful mosaic surfaces in the remains of the ancient Roman city of Ephesus in Turkey. Covering a vast area of public space, this tiling has a lovely organic quality with each component tile being unique in shape and the use of beautiful but subtle colour palettes laid out in simply enjoyable patterns. If it was good enough for the Romans I am sure we can borrow a bit from their seat of civilisation and inject some of that much maligned and often abused art form into out urban cityscape's for the good of humankind.

Evaporating dosser

I came across this little scene in an alleyway as I scooted across the city this morning. Now I am big into doors and entrance-ways at the moment and this is a good one, with a solid pair of doors and a good set of steps, framed with brick. It is probably a fire exit and I guess these days they'd design out this kind of classic dossers perch. I mean, if you fitted an external door to the space it would be almost big enough for a bijou micro-compact home.

But this one seems to tell a story, with an abandoned pair of worn out shoes neatly placed in one corner, the remains of a pack of Rizla in the other and a big wet patch that actually spilled out of the secluded doorway and exuded down the pavement. It almost looks like someone has dematerialised into a puff of smoke and just left behind a bit of human residue and their shoes (that they happened to have taken off) like some kind of reverse Genie. Unless of course it is an unholy mixture of piss and booze and some poor old soak was hauled off to the nick without his footwear...

Monkey Business

I don't think this is a genuine Bansky, but who knows, maybe he takes his holidays on the Canary Islands where this picture was taken the other day (and emailed to me). Obviously its based on the popular Che Guevara image, which must be one of the world's ultimate iconic graphics. Except he seems to have a monkey face and his revolutionary star has migrated off his beret into the sky.

Its got more than a bit of a rough and ready feel to it and the agricultural render is very typical of the traditional hillside buildings out there, much different to our smooth, stencil friendly public surfaces. I can't help thinking that maybe there is a connection with the banana plantations that dominate much of the surface area of this archipelago. Or perhaps its something to do with the long running Independence Movement that is evidenced in other graffiti in the Canaries in protest against the genocidal Spanish conquest...with a dash of Planet of the Apes thrown in. Maybe someone out there knows exactly what this is, but I like it's bold enigma and slightly defiant gaze.

Another city

Just got back from a day in Leicester, I guess it's been a good few years since I was there last, but I realised there is always a sense of excitement about wandering round a 'new' city (even if it isn't particulary exciting or world class - no offence Leics). There's always some worn down and gouged out interesting bits to discover.

As ever my trusty camera phone snapped a few urban sights. A bronze statue of Thomas Cook outside the train station with his open hand out-stretched invited a 'compare and contrast' exercise with a crouching rasta asking for spare change at the station entrance (NB; is this the Travel Agent dude, feel ignorant of the history, note to self: must find out).

Another snatched picture is a wonderfully scraped and crumpled street sign that exhibits a great graphic quality and illustrates another modern urban phenomena - 'oblivious reversing lorry syndrome'. I remember a memory of a time when a driver taking his vehicle back to the depot at then end of the day would have to explain any mark on it, it was a big deal, wages docked and all that. Now I think they probably peel luckless pedestrians limbs out of the front grill and sling them in a skip, never mind noticing the prangs and dints in a leased lorry that no-one really owns.

My final picture (I usually only take one of each subject, quickly framed and snapped) was taken at the other end of the journey back in Brum. Someone had taken a lovely few swipes under my feet with orange fluorescent engineers spray paint, centred on a cross signifying a broken paving slab. Maybe it it a sub-conscious effect of the 'nu-rave' fad but I am crazy into fluorescent colours at the moment, so this brought me some simple pleasure!