Monday, October 30, 2023

THE BEST BEFORE DATE - 1982 - Seven Songs by 23 Skidoo

 

The early 1980's, in the wide ranging movement that was post punk, there was one musical vein of exploration that eventually formed its own sub genre 'industrial.' The bastard off spring of many dissonant unclassifiable bands that clattered around the cataclysmic fringes of the punk phenomena. Of whom were - Throbbing Gristle, Cabaret Voltaire, A Certain Ratio, The Pop Group and This Heat. The second wave of bands that owed something in their origins to these bands -Test Department - Chaak - 23 Skidoo all beat out a singular path, one that was all their own.

23 Skidoo formed in 1979, with a much subtler and broader sweep of soundscapes than any of the bands that preceded them. Yes, there were shafts of avant garde jazz and funk in there, but also tribal styled percussion, dub, found sounds and voice recordings, over amplified slabs of sound coming down on you like crashing walls. The cumulative effect often creating a tone of total unease. 

23 Skidoo were probably one of the first bands that ventured into areas that 'post'rock' formats would develop and expand on in the early 1990's. Strong on mood, atmosphere and happy to shift time signatures abruptly, often veering off into an all out jam. Identifiable sources are few for what 23 Skidoo released in the early 1980's. 

Seven Songs was their 1982 debut album, which along with the earlier ten minute opus of The Gospel Comes To New Guinea and an EP Tearing Up The Plans, showed a band almost too assured in its adventurousness to survive for long. The most recent re-release of Seven Songs includes these EP's in their track listings. With The Culling Is Coming album, released the following year, the experimental, sonic abstraction side of the bands output took over precedence. An uneven release, part modern Gamelan style workout on one side and a live improvised recording on the other. The band fractured apart after this, and what was left made the altogether more accessible, but less challenging Urban Gamelan album in 1984. And though there have been brief bits of activity by former band members, and compilations, since then, the band as heard on Seven Songs was essentially never heard of again.

To give you a flavour of the spectrum of music they cover, here are three tracks by them. Kundalini opens the album, with a despairing squeal of a trumpet sound, before a galloping drum rhythm cranks up. Interspersed as it is by slashes of cross cutting sounds, this has a sparse groove, but a distinctly unnerving one filled with foreboding.


Opening with the thwack of an echoing bass, Porto Base has sounds and voices fade in and out of it. Mainly an older woman, sounding like it maybe one of the Mitford sisters, getting increasingly irate about the deleterious effects of effeminate hand gestures, which leads her to mention Hitler.


The track Gregouka, opens with the moaning of ephemeral chanting, over which a hard edged drum rhythm and a sour clarinet sound play in and out of each other. It possesses an other worldly character, alien, alluring and altogether unsettling.


Seven Songs is one of those albums. once heard, lives on in your imagination. A much over looked classic of the 1980's.

ART 'n' Ab ART - The Vanity of Small Differences

Grayson Perry Exhibition
Usher Gallery, Lincoln



You may have seen the Channel 4 series for which these huge tapestry were originally designed. A contemporary take on The Rakes Progress, Grayson Perry, with his usual perspicacity, insight and wit. explores the idiom of the self made man, the rags to riches narrative. How class itself, and how each of us sees class, informs and bedevils what our aspirations are for ourselves.


What TV cannot adequately convey is what the scale of these works feels like. They are huge, taking up a good part of the gallery walls in the splendid Usher Gallery extension. These are objects that you can stare at and study for ages, and still discover another aspect that is not apparent on first view. It is full of wry comments a plenty. 


One of my favourite remarks is a representation of a Hello magazine cover that says - Alan de Bottan shows you around his temple. Which has more mischievousness than at first appears. Satire is almost Grayson Perry's not very secret weapon. Amidst all the late 60's alternative comic styling and caricatures in his drawings, Perry has always been the inheritor of Hogarth's mantle. In this exhibition he is paying overdue direct homage to his eighteenth century antecedent.


And like Hogarth, Perry takes us through the birth. aspirations, successes and fall from grace of his contemporary version of the rake. These cross references, between today and the 18th century - the moral decadence, the corruption inherent to fame and success, the role of substance abuse in a person's decline. But no one here is treated unsympathetically, they as much the victim of the values, delusions and moral vacuum of the surrounding society, as the progenitor of their own fall.


His chosen medium, tapestry, holds another parallel, of the biblical or classically inspired wall hangings, meant to be instructional to the viewers, that once would have hung on baronial walls. In Perry's hands, these develop a garish colourfulness and rich range of stitch and effect. Manufactured through computer aided design and weaving processes, these works of art are also quite stunning visual pieces. Which communicate instantaneously what they are trying to say. This readability and accessibility is a touchstone of Grayson Perry as an artist, communicator and as a person. What you see is what you get.



Wednesday, October 25, 2023

QUOTATION MARKS - Kinds of Attention by Iain McGilchrist


"There are certain modes of attention 
which are naturally called forth
by certain kinds of object.
We pay a different sort of attention
to a dying man
from the sort of attention we'd pay to a sunset,
or a carburetor.
However, the process is reciprocal.
It is not just that what we find
determines the nature of the attention
we accord to it,
but that the attention we pay to anything
also determines what it is we find."


Taken from The Master & His Emissary by Iain McGilchrist
Published by Yale University Press, 2010 

THE PAST IN RUINS - Whitby Abbey

The ruins of Whitby Abbey dramatically crown the headland and loom over the harbour. This distinctive building, with its gaunt silhouette, marked a safe haven for those at sea, a recognisable, brooding institution, and a place of religious contemplation and mission. One that became the background to a gothic romantic novel. A place now luridly floodlit on Halloween. The Abbey and its ruins, in human imaginations, have been many things to many people. 

When you consider where the abbey is positioned, you wonder what possessed them to build it there. Severely exposed to the fiercest of storms and thunderous winds. These days the weathering scars ever deeper into its ancient stonework. Originally the headland is thought to have been much larger, sitting higher in relation to the Abbey, which sheltered in its protective shadow. It also was not originally alone up there, An early settlement, once clustered around the nascent abbey, like a shanty town.


For the ruins we now see, are not what was 
originally built here in the 7th and 8th centuries. That settlement, called Streaneshalch ( Streane's Headland ), was an Anglian community, with perhaps only a staithe in the harbour beneath. The religious community, though only a handful in number, had a small minster church. Records are sketchy of how substantial a building this was. Though it was once one of four such 'minsters' perched above river mouths along this coastline.


Oswiu King of Northumbria sent Abbess Hild to found the minster of St Peter in 657. It became under her tutelage a hub of learning and literacy. Producing Caedmon, the first person known to have written poetry in the English language. Abbess Hild was confident and charismatic, becoming an extremely effective, inspirational spiritual leader, of this double house monastic foundation, one for both monks and nuns. Her wise, calm and peaceable demeanour made her a much sought after advisor. Abbess Hild, was what made the minster at Streaneshalch famous across Europe. Which, no doubt, is why it was chosen as the site for a pivotal meeting of Christians in 664. 

This meeting, now retrospectively referred to as The Synod of Whitby, was called to resolve a longstanding clash of two religious cultures, over practice and authority. There were many areas of contention, but it mainly centered around the date of Easter. An Irish-Ionian date versus that of Catholic Rome. Which version was to have precedence? The Synod decided conclusively on Rome's. 

After Abbess Hild's death in 680, a considerable cult built up around the veneration of her. There was no official process of beatification in Anglo Saxon times, sainthood was a title bestowed upon individuals simply through the combination of common religious experience, devotion and the miraculous. She forged a huge spiritual reputation for the Abbey. That even in its future centuries, in its much larger Benedictine manifestation, it lived off, and often failed to live up to it.

Streaneshalch was built on a headland because that was easier to defend from attack by raiders. Then in 793 the Viking's infamously desecrated the religious community at Lindisfarne. It was only a matter of time before Streaneshalch would also become a target. In the 9th century the Anglian settlement and minster was so badly attacked, it had subsequently to be abandoned. A new town founded with the Danish name Whitby, began to thrive in the harbour beneath.

Whitby was, seemingly, without any notable religious presence on the headland for nearly a century. Until, post 1066, a Norman soldier called Reinfrid, journeying on his way northward, stopped off to visit whatever remained of the headland minster. He felt moved to become a monk, later returning as a hermit. By 1078 he'd accumulated enough followers to build a small priory. 

Any religious foundation required endowments, patronage and land, simply for its survival. Reinfrid wanted to keep the community small in number, and fought hard against the drive, by others, to build a fully fledged Benedictine monastery. This desire proved irresistible. Today, all we know about that larger monastery, is its size and outline. Its marked out in the grass of Whitby's ruins. This was built around 1109 in a simple Romanesque style, and appears to have had five side chapels in the form of apses.

Ambitions to always be building better, larger and in a more fashionable gothic architectural style, proved overwhelming for the egos of a series of medieval Abbots. All despite the monastery appearing to have been almost permanently overstretched financially. Abbot Benedict in the 12th century had to be forcibly removed for 'squandering' the Abbey's wealth. In 1320 a papal visitation found the abbey to be seriously in debt. With a far from diligent group of choir monks, who preferred hunting to applying themselves to devotional practice. Yet, merely ten years after that papal assessment, this self same monastery was embarking itself on a hugely expensive project to rebuild the entire Nave. This could only be done through the patronage of wealthy people such as the Percy family. The endeavour  nonetheless had to be abandoned half completed - the money ran out. 

Where they had reached by this point can be seen in the West Nave. There are a series of 13th century Early English lancet windows, which are followed by the recognisably elaborate tracery of later 14th century Decorated windows. It was a full hundred years later before sufficient funds could be raised to complete the nave project. Altogether it took 250 years to finish the Whitby Abbey we now see. The Nave, from the start, had been misaligned to the tower and presbytery, by about four degrees. Though this is not an uncommon occurance in large scale medieval stone buildings. One has to wonder what pressure those builders were under for so substantial an error to happen.

Other aspects of the monasteries finances were strained. Whitby Abbey was bequeathed 'burgage' over the town of Whitby by Henry 1st. This gave them the right to raise money through charges on the profits from the town's market, annual fairs, civil court and from its thriving fishing industry. 

This type of financial fleecing by the Benedictine abbey of its local townspeople was never popular. To require even begrudging support, it did required the Abbey to be spiritually exemplary. Because all Benedictine foundations lived within towns, everything about them was known, subject to prejudicial conjecture or scurilous rumour. In the straightened economy of the 14th century, when the feudal structure of England pretty much collapsed, onerous taxes from a Benedictine monastery, frequently became the final straw. Incensed locals, at best took legal redress, at worst they rioted.

The later history of the Abbey is very poorly documented. Though by the time of its dissolution in 1539, its known there were 22 monks rattling around its vast and chilly cloisters. Its level of patronage had so declined, the income it generated made it one of the poorest Benedictine houses in England.

The land, subsequent to the Dissolution, was leased to the Cholmley family. Initially they only lived there during the summer. Nonetheless, they set too and demolished most of the remaining monastery service buildings. The abbey itself was left untouched because it was such a distinctive landmark, which could be seen from the sea. And, no doubt, it also acted as this large physical windbreak.

During the era of the romantic ruin in the grounds of stately homes, the old abbots house  became fronted with a classically designed building, including an elegant courtyard. This house subsequently had its roof blown off in a storm on 1790. and was to fall into ruin thereafter. The remains of this are now used as the abbey's museum and shop.

Sunday, October 22, 2023

SHERINGHAM DIARY No 95 - A Day Of Deluge.


There exists an existential vein of unreality that runs through the realm of North Norfolk. With its idyllic countryside, high numbers of expensive second homes, knapped flint houses and dramatic skies. It can be a great place to live, and easy to imagine you are being featured on BBC Countryfile, in your waders and waterproofs chasing that first rare bird siting of a chiv-chav-chuck.


One time recently, we were casually walking around Holt. Doing the best type of window shopping in its high end shops, with not the slightest intent of buying any of it. When, we pass by a woman, typical of the Holt type, hair roughly scrunched up, with escaped straggly bohemian strands hanging from beneath the flaps of her large woollen hat. Bundled up in wellies and a capacious well worn green trenchcoat. And she is talking very very loudly and insistently in high imperious tone, into her mobile, these immortal words - ' No, no, no.....I told you...I've fed the alpacas'

On our recent holiday in North Yorkshire. I was not particularly on the look out for good shop names. But its in the character of the beast that they come to you.


Whilst in Helmsley, there was a very niche designer styled hairdresser, every inch of it, painted and accessorised, done out in uniform grey. Thus was it also suitably minimalist by name - Partings.

On our way out through the back end of Malton, on our way home, we drove through a poorer suburb of the town. Unlike its ultra trendy food obsessed centre, this Malton shop was quite straightforwardly and without a hint of irony, calling a spade a spade. In bold black letter typeface jauntily arranged, declaring who owns it and exactly what it provides - Barney's Sarnies.


Well, it seems we chose the right week to take our holiday. The Courtyard where our shop is, was deathly quiet all the week we were away. So those who bore with it, reported. The week of our return had the forecast of storm Babet hanging over it. So as the quiet days progressed towards its projected arrival date, the streets became cleared of people, as though anticipating gun fighters coming into town, to bloodbath the elderly. 


Even the normally reliable Met Office lost its ability to predict with certainty - what time would it rain? How much rain? And for how long?  It started out with a forecast of three days of wall to wall solid rain, which turned out to be a day and a bit. We came into town on Friday, the day of the deluge, just to check everything in the shop was OK. Decided - take the day off you fools. Even an idiot wouldn't be coming out in this to buy a scented candle.


The eruption of Israel-Gaza is a truly distressing world event. Even when observed from a distance. After the Hamas atrocities, you could guarantee Israel would respond in kind, because that is what they have always done. One can empathise with how they feel, even whilst you shake your head at the irredeemably cyclical nature of this conflict. This has never ended well. It will be no different this time.


There is no supremacy between one country's suffering and that of another's. No ranking for pain from mildly bothersome to distorted in agony. Both tje atrocity and the bombing of civilians is regrettable. Having been gifted the moral high ground by Hamas's brutal attack, then to descend into the gutter of mindless slaughter with them, immediately diminishes ones empathy and their moral credibility. 

It's hard to express your feeling for the suffering of others in a nonpartisan manner. When all around you folk are saying they deserved it, and you feel its not allowed to speak otherwise. 

 



Wednesday, October 18, 2023

THE PAST IN RUINS - Rievaulx Abbey

At the height of their influence in the 12th century, the Cistercians, in a very short space of time, had founded over eighty monasteries across the UK. Their appeal was as a purist ' back to basics' reform movement, reviving St Benedict's Rule as their essential guide. They were also pioneers in opening up the possibility of a spiritual life, to those from poorer, more uneducated backgrounds, through creating a lay brotherhood. Though this spiritual hierarchy, based on class, education, literacy and work, proved to be pernicious one, and a constant source of huge contention.


The Cistercians were also the pioneers of 'grange' farming. Where groups of lay brothers would run small holdings across the, often vast and widely spread, monastic estates. These 'granges' supported the monastery with food to consume, but also financially, through the sale of grain, and more importantly wool. The monks, from necessity, became expert at irrigation and water management. At Rievaulx Abbey they completely diverted the direction of the river Rye, to better serve their household and farming needs.


By 1275 Rievaulx's 'grange' farms housed a huge flock of 14,000 sheep. But in the following year, an infestation of murrain began to totally decimate the number of sheep, and the abbey's finances with it. King Edward 1st was forced to call in administrators by 1279. Early in the1300's bankruptcy loomed, then the Scots raided the abbey, there was extremely bad weather over a number of years, resulting in poor crop yields, a widespread famine followed, and then plague arrived. Monks, irrespective of whether they were, choir or lay, died. With a diminishing lay brotherhood the abbey was forced to lease out its 'granges' to tenant farmers. The Cistercian model of monastic life appeared to be at the point of crumbling.



Cistercian monasteries were secreted away in the country, generally in areas sparsely populated, their abbeys, now in ruins, have suffered less from their dressed stone being robbed away by the surrounding populace. So once the King's men in 1538 had left with the communion silver, the gilded shrines, the ornate robes, jewels and the lead from the roof, much of its carved stonework at least, was left untouched.



Similar to Fountains Abbey, at Rievaulx, we find a relatively intact abbey and ground plan of one of the major religious institutions of the medieval period. Not just in the North, but in the entirety of England. By the time of its most famous Saint and third abbot, Aelred, in the 12th century, it had grown to 140 choir monks, supported by 500 lay brothers. Aelred's reputation drawing young novitiates to Rievaulx, inspired by the power of his writing and spiritual presence.


This was not to last long beyond his death in 1167.  By the mid 13th century the total number of monks had halved. The causes were complex, but there was also the arrival of the second wave of monastic reformers, in the Franciscans and Dominicans. With their focus on poverty and a distinctly urban 'hands on' ministry, this was proving more potent and attractive to religiously inspired men and women.

The human tragedy that resulted from the series of environmental and health disasters that happened across Europe in the 14th century, induced a profound change in attitude in the medieval mind. At Rievaulx those lay brethren who remained were less deferential, less inclined to play second fiddle to the largely aristocratic choir monks, and demanded an equal say in the running of the Abbey. At its lowest point in the 14th century decline, the abbey was inhabited by only 15 choir monks and 3 lay brothers.

Before the dissolution of Rievaulx Abbey in 1539  the population of monks had recovered from its 14th century nadir, to 23 choir monks and 102 (now paid) servants and attendants. The lay brotherhood, as a secondary level of religious practitioner, had completely been abandoned. With its subsequent suppression and dissolution, the abbey buildings themselves were to be abandoned too, to rack and ruin.


Post the Dissolution, these ruins were left to naturally decay and collapse for over a century and a half. The site of Rievaulx was bought in 1695 by Charles Duncombe, a banker in the City of London, and reputedly the richest man in England at the time. Once ennobled, as Lord Faversham, he built a grand house and developed the grounds that surrounded Rievaulx. Creating a viewing terrace with a sequence of temples and platforms from which to glimpse the abbey's gothic ruins in the valley beneath.


This Rievaulx Terrace was part of 'the  picturesque movement' in garden landscaping, an early flowering of what eventually would form the English style of landscape garden. This led on to the Romantic movement, where Turner came to paint Rievaulx, the Wordsworth's visited. Abbeys as poetic ruins, became places to visit and admire, what we now refer to as the tourist industry. By 1917 the Office of Works was created to manage and conserve the condition of these precious ancient monuments. Rievaulx Abbey would then finally re-emerge from its cloaking mounds of medieval demolition rubble. 

Today, we can once again admire its beauty and explore its layout, with a clarity and ease perhaps not experienced since the time of the dissolution itself. It's possible now to have a sense for why Rievaulx Abbey is where it is. The seclusion, the quiet and the landscape it is placed within, presenting a tangible atmosphere of a spiritual retreat and place of contemplation, that is all but lost to us in our 21st century noisy urban lives.




Tuesday, October 17, 2023

CHURCH LARKING - Salthouse Parish Church



Perched majestically atop a low escarpment that runs parallel to the marsh, dunes and line of the sea, St Nicholas Parish Church Salthouse, resembles in form a huge cruise liner constructed of knapped flint and faceted glass. The flint work is neat and well maintained, and maybe it needs to be. The church is left extremely exposed to the stormy wind and rain that batters this coastline. Particularly in the winter, when the cold of it all must really be penetrating.


Its a distinctive quality of many North Norfolk churches to have little, if any, stained glass. At Salthouse there is clear glass with pattern forming geometric leading. Creating an interior with a unique quality of well balanced, unobstructed light, even on a cloudy day. The nave and clerestory are pierced with long thin pairs of windows, topped with trefoil shaped headers. Further accentuating its considerable lofty height. A large Chancel window hovers over the altar with additional windows to the left and right of it providing sidelight. So the host is well lit. I suspect these are all Victorian reiterations of what.may have preceded them.

Both Nave and Chancel were completely rebuilt in the 15th Century, in the more minimalist Perpendicular, late Gothic style. This gives the church a uniformity of style and an interior space that possesses a wide and expansive openness. This is partly due to it having no rood screen in place. Though one would once have grandly divided the Chancel from the Nave in medieval times.




However, segments of that medieval rood screen have survived, and you will find base sections scattered around the church. Some in the Chancel, others as you enter by the font and entrance porch. These portray a mixture of saints and Old Testament prophets. All their faces gouged away during the iconoclasm of the Reformation. Though, in some, you can just about discern the symbolic insignia that they carry.



The church as it presents itself today was the creation of the wealthy Heydon Family. The intention originally was to also replace the tower. But the Civil War intervened and this plan was abandoned. So the form and style of what preceded the present church is indicated by the tower. Which has 13th century lancet and 14th century decorated windows inserted into largely a 12th century foundational structure. 



This is a 'mongrel' tower that has the appearance of being thrown together, with an off-centre deformed construction. One that required plentiful additions of buttresses to support it's increased height and, most importantly, the weight of the belfry. This also necessitated a side staircase being built to reach that belfry floor in its upper level. Yet despite all these necessary structural accretions, the mass of the old tower cannot quite match up to the rest of it. It is lacking in elegance or any elevating soaring quality. 



Salthouse has no separate chapels in its side aisles. So its ranks of pews spill over into it from the central nave area. These pews have particularly fine carved poppy heads on the ends of them. The roof overhead is a very simple and unfussy Perpendicular looking rib vault. 


Other things of note, are the remains a calligraphic wall inscription of religious verses from 1633, on the upper left wall to the side of the altar. To the right on the back of the Chancel's rood screen sections, are crudely incised drawings of fishing boats. Thought to have been executed by bored children, when the church was once in use as a school. 


Though still used regularly for services, the church is also an art exhibition space during the summer months. Making excellent use of the clear quality of its pure light and sparse aesthetic.