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A Pair of Glasses on a Bench

18 Mar

At some point last summer someone found that cheap reading glasses are cheap for a reason … and this being the City of Culture instead of just binning them they neatly arranged the erstwhile spectacles in a respectful homage to Nguyen and Khayatan‘s famed installation at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. 
The Weekend in Black and White is here.


8 Mar

Freedom is the will to be responsible for ourselves.
                                                                Freddy Nietzsche

Came across this little sign on the Scale Lane on the side of the Lion and Key pub.

Tired all the time

1 Feb

This was one of the many very irritating slogans of last year’s Kulturfest. You may have read or seen of further recent instalments of fun from this town regarding “gifts” from an itinerant self-promoting defacer of buildings. There’s been a wonderful farce as folk twist their moral selves into defending criminal damage of  a protected building as art, the outrage as criminal daubing was itself daubed with a nice coat of paint and so on and so on. The whole thing brought to mind a medieval saintly apparition and how the church could profit from such nonsense … But I’m too tired to go see the now perspex covered scribbling; you’ll have to wait to see if I can be bothered.

The theme for the City Daily Photo is “Tired” so if you’ll excuse me I’ll go catch up on my sleep.

I’m not driving

16 Jan

Rolled up in town late on Friday afternoon about 4pm but could tell something was up as the bus diverted and left us to get off on a side street. The reason was obvious; each street in town was filled with traffic going absolutely nowhere at all. I wonder if you ever played that game as a child where you had to move from place to place without touching the ground? We called it Pirates, you might have called it something else. Anyhow you could play Pirates all round town on the roofs of cars stretching from the river to Beverley Road and all other points west and east. And the reason so many hundreds of vehicles decided to use the centre of town … someone decided to play with the Myton Bridge and oops, oh dear … it broke down. Hmmm …
The picture was taken last year on Spring Bank, another notorious bottle neck. It’s a stretch of about one thousand yards and my personal record for rush hour slowness on here is twenty five minutes; that’s a little over 1 mile per hour! Even I can walk quicker than that.

O where do we go now but nowhere

4 Jan

The final show, as it were, of the Year of Culture was a series of installations scattered about the town each consisting of several robotic arms that were supposed to move around with lights and sound (I believe the term ‘music’ may have been used, but it was basically just eerie noise). This junk was titled “Where Do We Go From Here?” and is described as a “thrilling mix of art and technology” … the blurb continues “…At a time of political uncertainty at home and abroad, it also asks important questions: What kind of place do we want to live in? What role should culture play? Where do we go from here?” There’s more (isn’t there always?) “Where Do We Go From Here? , is a deliberate provocation designed to get individuals reflecting upon their city’s future. It invites everyone to take part in a timely conversation about art, culture and society.” Yada, yada, yada …

I came upon this very unmoving piece  as they were obviously fixing some kind of fault, so it wasn’t working. However later I did cross paths with a different installation that was in full flow; the arms had lights attached and waved about a bit and there was sound to go with. (Gosh, how very sixites I thought, when robots were just coming into the work place and were seen as menacing … ) An enthusiastic Hull person (there are some, well, at least one) grabbed me by the arm and exclaimed how brilliant and fantastic it all was… I’m afraid I used language that the clergy do not know.

So the Y of C ended not with fireworks, nor yet with a whimper; it just fizzled out possibly from exhaustion or, more likely, boredom… (Officially there was no celebration because (& I paraphrase) “It’s not over yet, there’s still more to come and, and ,and …” yeah, yeah, we paid already) The gang of imps, pimps, banjo players and blow-ins from the world of Culture Incorporated responsible for this fest of dreck were all dutifully gonged by Queenie over the New Year and have not been heard of since… And while Hull is still City of Culture for another three years attention will now pass to poor old Coventry. Oh yes! the birth place of Phillip Larkin (damn Hull did him first, still…)… and Lady Godiva and, and, and … aint culcha fun?

It’s been yonks …

2 Jan

… since I posted anything.

The new year sees Hull and all things Hully still much the same. Be assured you haven’t missed anything.

Some Hull stuff

17 Sep

The Prospect Centre is having some work done on the lift and to protect Joe Public boards have been erected and to hide or brighten up these boards these decorative Hull based adornments have been added. So clockwise from the top right: Amy Johnson seeming to leap from England to Australia; a footballing tiger representing the local football club, Hull City aka the Tigers (though this year I’m told they are playing like pussy cats), a fisherman with what appear to be laughing cod (clearly a Mickey take of the Hessle Road mural), and finally a not very convincing and somewhat puzzled Philip Larking (as the Daily Mail recently called him) with a toothy toad. There’s another panel that I couldn’t photograph (on account of there being a stall in the way) with rugby players on it but I reckon you can have too much of a good thing.
There are more Monday murals here.