Rainy with a chance of Blues

To begin at the end of the week, the undoubted highlight of the year so far was Sunday's gig at The Bell in Bath, with an incredible line-up of top class blues musicians: Jon Amor (guitar & vocals), Pete Gage (keyboard & vocals), Tom Gilkes (drum & percussion), Jerry Soffe (bass) and Eddie Martin (guitar, harp & vocals). 

These musicians are all top class creatives with huge audience-impact in their presentation - I haven't the skills for anything like a coherent review of their musical techniques but their performance together is sensational. The Bell is a great music pub too: raised stage and space for dancing, and an avid audience.

Also with the music, Eleanor Talbot, Frome's international broadcaster on wide-ranging topics, aired another of her popular  'Trash or Treasure' sessions. This was recorded in Ellie's living room last week, with her cats, fizz and cakes, and with Rosie Eliot & me as adjudicating guests. Great fun to participate, and fascinating to listen to such an esoteric mix, expertly guided by Ellie's extensive knowledge of the music world. My personal list would be less esoteric: current 'treasure' is Wet Leg, currently following their brilliant Chaise Longue song with Too Late Now and hopefully heralding a year when bonkers productions are in vogue, as this would be useful for me and Hazel when our double poetry collection What's it Like for You?/Dance for Those who'd Rather Not comes out with Caldew Press this spring. Our awesome cover design is still in progress with ON FIRE so instead here's Wet Leg in their current video 

No theatre shows this week, but the good news that Plays International has gone online, under the editorship of Jeremy Malies, which means my reviews will be immediately available, rather than in 3-monthly chunks which doesn't always help to promote the show. There's a historical archive too, where i'm pleased to see my piece about my father is currently resting...

Finally, an artsy tip for those still unsure of travel: The National Gallery is sharing short 'taster' films about their exhibitions paintings free online: this week's subject was Durer, who appears to have had a healthy respect for his own -undoubtedly magnificent - talent as both a print-maker and a painter. 

Other than these highlights, it was a quietly pleasant week for me: meeting friends and fellow writers, cat-sitting, a meal at Frome's excellent Italian restaurant Castello, and a lot of writing... the  promised snow didn't arrive but at least the bin-men did, clearing away the last of the festivities as rain settled in.  And Stephen Mangan won the House of Games weekly quiz challenge hosted by Richard Osman. 

 

 

Really? one month already?

Last Sunday was Burns Night, as significant around the world to expat Scots as St Patricks night to exiled Irish, and we had a great session at Emily's dining on (veggie) haggis with neaps and tatties, whisky for the spirited and Rioja for the less so, and many poems.
My contribution was Elvis McGonagall's spine-tingling Operation Undying Conflict ~ though of course it sounds better from a shouty Scotsman (this link is from the Stop The War rally in London 2011, where I first heard it). Marian, the oldest and most authentic Scot in our party, gave the authentic recital for the slashing of the haggis: "Great chieftain o the puddin'-race! Aboon them a' ye tak your place... His knife see rustic Labour dight, An cut you up wi ready slight."

Moving seamlessly from words to visual art ~ easy online, as everything's either words or pictures ~ Trowbridge Town Hall has a wax installation upstairs in the waiting room until 27th February. The artwork is called The Waiting Room, because as the artist's note explains the object and the room are integral to each other.  I went with David and while we were pondering this mutual integrity a lady came in and said 'I thought they said there was some art in here?' and went away. The silent room has become a place of transition, the notes explain. Eventually it will cease to exist. Which is of course true for everything. Except maybe cockroaches, and plastic.

Back in Frome there's always music. Superb sessions here are like prophylactics at a festival: well-advertised and free to both the committed and the merely curious. The regular Roots Session at the Grain Bar on Wednesday featured the extraordinary Blues virtuosity of Eddie Martin, and the newly introduced Sunday afternoon music slot at the Archangel featured the luscious retro-style of Bonne Nouvelle.  Live music too at the Silk Mill, on the Day to Make a Difference for the Calais refugees in the Jungle ~  collection of requested winter-wear and donations, with stalls, soup, cakes, and songs from the Wochynskis.

Writerly things are bubbling too, of course, but I think I'll leave you with a magical dialogue chanced upon on a facebook page (thanks Morgan.) It's a contemporised view of Norse mythology and explains the origin of sentient life on earth.
Odin gestures to As and Embla.
Odin:     I have made Mankind.
Frigga:  You fucked a couple of perfectly good trees is what you did. Look at it, it's got anxiety.

Happy February, y'all.