Tate Modern Slide

The Turbine Hall in the Tate Modern, where as the name suggests the power turbines were once located, is now a huge void reserved for massive art installations. On a vist early last year, I saw Embankment - that installation made the hall look like a giant sugar bowl. Late last year, and until April this year, the hall was host to three giant slides (pictured at right) by Carsten Holler. The slides were really exhilirating. I found a YouTube video of the ride from Level 5. The Tate Modern site has more information about the installation.

Kylie and H&M

The latest atelier marketing trick is to have a celebrity design a range of clothing. Madonna did Top Shop last year, and Kate Moss is presently working with H&M. Around the same time, H&M released swimwear designed by Kylie Minogue. The ads wrapped the entire circumference of the Imax Cinema, a round building in the centre of a roundabout, at Waterloo.

Argumentum In Terrorem

I hate The Evening Standard.

Admittedly, most British newspapers are pretty noxious. Murdoch's The Sun is always the first that comes to mind, with its hypocritical pro-family rampant right-wing rants on the front page, and the topless Page Three pin-up overleaf. But the Standard, humorously and appropriately nicknamed The Evening Bastard, is surely the worst of the lot.

When I first arrived in London, I greeted the Standard's headlines with some excitement. The Standard's news stand headlines, with blue-and-white masthead and (seemingly) handwritten headlines, are as much a London landmark as red Routemasters and black cabs. Each afternoon, on my way home from work, my eyes searched for the Standard's headlines. How quaint, I thought, that in the 21st century, there is still a market for newspapers in the afternoon. And conversely, how wonderful that London has the population, and thus the market, to warrant afternoon newspapers.

That rosy view did not last very long. My Damascene conversion was slow, yet gradually advancing with each new Standard headline that greeted me. I read many headlines on a daily basis, and quickly detected the common themes: death, destruction, fear, uncertainty, and doubt... sometimes concerning celebrities... more often concerning terrorism. Just imagine the editors' glee if they got hold of a story concerning a terrorist celebrity. Now this marketing strategy is not unique to the Standard. All newspapers like to appeal to fear. The difference is that the Standard never has a positive headline. Ever. Even The Sun has an occasionally cheery headline, and when not, the headlines are often pithy, if not downright funny.

The final straw for me was the Standard's headline "TERROR PLOT TO BLITZ HEATHROW". I saw this headline on my way home from work, one Friday afternoon in 2005. It really got me worried, and somewhat intrigued, about a new terror plot that must have been thwarted in the few hours between my lunch break, and the close of business that day. Alas, I was tricked. (Or as "they" would say, the headline worked). There was no terror threat that day. The editors chose that headline to advertise the paper's routine reporting of evidence adduced at trial earlier that day. Apparently, some Muslim extremists had plotted to raze Heathrow. But my point is that this was old news. In fact, the material time of this "terror plot" was a full two years before the date of the headline.

Now wisened to the Standard's policy of death and destruction, I eagerly look for each day's new outrage. Yesterday, I spotted "THAMES FLOOD: PREPARE TO FLEE". In fairness to the Standard, we have had "a bit of rain". And it is true that most of Lambeth, and a lot of south London is flood plain, protected from the Thames by the 120 year old Albert Embankment. It is also true that England is slowly sinking in to the Channel, London-first. It's also true that the flood risk is real, and that the Thames Barrier will eventually need to be replaced... but not before sometime between 2030 and 2050. To suggest that Londoners should now prepare to flee is hilariously irresponsible, in the extreme.

I can appreciate that the Standard's editors have a tough sell. The media market is saturated, with readers now able to access some form of electronic news media at work, often on-line, and often for free. There is also the free paper war being raged on London streets each afternoon. Basically, ghastly Rupert Murdoch's News Corporation is attempting to muscle into the afternoon paper market, with its free rag thelondonpaper. Associated Press, who own the Standard, also offer their own free paper. It used to be called the Standard Lite, but was rebranded and dumbed-down to become the London Lite in advance of News Corp's arrival. Disregard the hype: neither paper is any good. Both are mostly filled with celebrity news, which does hold lurid interest value for most people, and definitely myself. But page after page of paparazzo-photographs with taglines like "Underpantless Lindsay Lohan falling out of blah club in Mayfair, earlier this morning" does not a paper make. At best, the papers offer a brief distraction on a tube ride home. But let's be realistic: their primary purpose is to sell advertising, not inform.

Still, the paper war rages on. And as with all wars, it is the civilians who always lose. The free paper touts are everywhere, and each has the ridiculous brief from management that they must offer a paper to every passer-by. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. That means they block already over-crowded streets, and will impede your passage by waving a paper in your face, often, even, if you are already carrying the same title. This situation is exceptionally annoying. At first, I wanted to punch some of these rude paper touts, but I'm slowly coming round to their existence. They serve a valuable purpose. In fact, right now, I'm even rooting for the free papers. I'm hoping that if this free paper nonsense continues, it will slowly whittle away at the The Evening Bastard's readership, and, eventually, even threaten its very existence. :-)

In writing this blog post, I found a really interesting archive on Flickr of Standard headlines since 2005. Don't take my word for it, view the archive to see what I mean.

They Mostly Come At Night... Mostly...

In the nineteenth century, London's population was spiralling out of control, putting more and more pressure on the city's church graveyards. At a time when disease and epidemic was widespread, and there concerns of contaminated graveyards, something had to be done. By order of Parliament, all inner London graveyards were closed, and seven new cemeteries were constructed on the outskirts of the city. They are now known as the Magnificient Seven, and Highgate Cemetery is one of them.

Highgate's importance can be attributed to the beautiful and thoughtful design of many graves, and the signficantly high number of notable people buried there; 850 people according to many web sites. Highgate is the final resting place of Karl Marx, Michael Faraday, Sir Ralph Richardson, Douglas Adams, Radclyffe Hall, Sir Michael Redgrave, Sidney Nolan, and Alexander Litvinenko (the Russian ex-spy assassinated last year).

According to the BBC, there are 168,000 names on 52,000 graves, in just 37 acres. It's a staggering number that can only be appreciated when you visit the relatively site. The cemetery is divided in two, on the east and west sides of Swains Lane.

The West Cemetery is the original site, and features the amazing design and architecture for which Highgate is famous, especially the areas known as Egyptian Avenue and the Circle of Lebanon. Both sites are beautiful. It feels like you've wandered onto the set of a gothic horror film. In fact, one can't help but wonder how many films and novels owe a debt to Highgate for inspiration. Angels are another common theme to the design of graves.

By the 1960s the West Cemetery was in a state of ruin. It became fashionable to enter the cemetery at night for a lark. Many graves were ruined through carelessness and disrespect. Around this time, the legend of the Highgate Vampire was born. By 1975, the West Cemetery was financially unviable and closed. In the early 1980s one local woman bought the freehold to the cemetery (for £1, no less!) and formed the Friends of Highgate Cemetery to care for this important part of London's history. When Mike and I visited the cemetery a few months ago, we had good fortune to meet this enterprising lady.

There is only one question she wouldn't answer: how much does a plot cost in the West Cemetery? The cemetery is not selling new plots in advance. Immediately following a death, the family can approach the cemetery, and enquire about burial, at which time a fee is negotiated. Given the high number of notable burials from the past, it is somewhat appropriate that most recent burials seem to be for those with some celebrity. Still, it's a small price to pay for safeguarding the longevity of one of London's landmarks.

All of my Highgate Cemetery photos are here.

Aren't You A Little Short For A Stormtrooper?

Leia's quip was frequently in my mind on the weekend as I wandered around the Star Wars Celebration Europe show at the Excel Centre in London's Docklands. Still, Stormtroopers are very sexy, I think.

I had a ridiculously fun afternoon on Saturday, wandering around the Excel Centre, watching dozens and dozens of obsessive Star Wars fans, many of whom were dressed for the occasion.

This year's Celebration Europe event holds special significance, being the 30th anniversary of the release of Star Wars. And of course, London is the most appropriate European city to hold the event: all three original Star Wars films were filmed here, along with the Phantom Menace (for anyone over the age of 7, that'll be the forgettable film with Jar Jar Binks and the plot about taxes).

Madrid EuroPride

Each year one European city is chosen to be the focus of the continent's gay pride celebrations. This year, it was Madrid. Greg, Martin, Alex, and I (along with half of London) flew to Madrid for a very fun weekend. We managed one cultural "thing" on the Friday, when we visited the Prado Museum. We were there when Mum and Dad frantically tried calling me to find out if I was okay, thinking I was in London, because they had just learned of the attempted bombings in Haymarket. Mum and Dad were concerned because the they heard that nail bombs with 200 litres of gas had gone off, somewhere near me. In actuality, the bombs were nowhere near home or work, there was only 60 litres, and they hadn't gone off at all... but that's what happens when fragments of news travel 11,000 miles. Like with 21/7, it seems that the news is sensationalised in direct proportion to the distance it travels.

On the Friday evening, we ventured into Chueca - the gay district - which was jam-packed with Madrileños, Spaniards, and thousands of foreigners. Madrid attracts literally hundreds of thousands of tourists for what is one of the largest Pride celebrations in the world. It makes London's Pride celebrations look anaemic (and rightly so - I don't understand how this city of 7.5 million can have such a crap Pride event). This year's EuroPride saw one million people converge on Madrid. The main event is the Pride parade which is held between in the sunlit hours of early Saturday evening. Once again, much better than London, but nothing like Sydney.

For my friends and I, the main event was the Infinita Mente dance party at the Telefonica Dome later that evening. The venue is amazing - a huge concert stadium with retractable seating to create three tiers above the main dance floor. We spent all night on the first tier. I love everything about Spain, except just one thing. And that is that the bars don't get busy 'til midnight, and the clubs don't even open until 1 or 2am. We arrived at Infinita Mente at 1:30am, and it was just getting started. So while it was a late night, and a long night, it was fantastic. Loads of fun. We all agreed that Infinita Mente was one of the best parties we'd ever been to.

Sunday night we went to Supermartxe, a Matinee party at some club somewhere in Madrid. I can't remember where exactly, but I'm not sure it mattered then, or now. The real highlight of Madrid was the Lago pool. I cannot describe the simple pleasure of being able to sunbathe and go for a swim in a pool, when one lives in perenially over-cast London (especially this "summer"). And there are only three Olympic-size swimming pools in all of England. That little factoid always makes me laugh.

Click here to view my Madrid EuroPride slideshow.

Disused Paddock, Brisbane

Near my family's house in McDowall, in Brisbane, Australia, there is a a strip of land reserved for the once-planned northern freeway. When I visited Brisbane last Christmas I stopped by the side of the road to have a look.

The water tank is all that remains of a small paddock at that location. There used to be a a little cabin, the odd grazing cow, and a horse or two.

My memory of that little farm is among the earliest from my childhood. Being one of two access points to the sub-division where we lived, we'd pass here almost every day. This is the contemporary view of what I saw from the back seat of our little white Fiat.

(The photo is geo-tagged. Click on the photo, then the map link in Flickr to see its location.)