Sketch Crawl : The Hancock Museum (again)

Attic Vessels c.450 BC, Hancock Museum
(Broad and fine point markers, with grey brush pen in A4 sketchbook)

And so we get to it: our most recent Sketch Crawl. As I missed the one before that (at Arch Sixteen Cafe ), I've decided to stop numbering these Sketch Crawl posts.

On 10th December, there was a good turnout of North East Sketch Crawlers, although one or two had to cry off because of Xmas-related activities. The weather was OK, although the wind, as is often the case it seems, was icy cold.

This drawing is all I got done, but I'm really pleased with it. Someone online suggested that the wavy lines in the background ruin it and I'm not about to dismiss that. There was a blankness about the top third of the page that seemed to need something, so I added these lines from the mural that formed the back of the display case. Were I to make this into a painting (and I'm thinking seriously about it), I know I wouldn't include the wavy lines. Still, you make these decisions in the moment and have to live with them.

I've been looking at a lot of still life paintings recently, especially of the 20th Century Modernist sort and I think it shows in this drawing. Another person online pointed out what a good subject it was for practising drawing ellipses. She was right, of course, but in this case it served as an opportunity for me to wilfully make the ellipses irregular. I seem to remember reading many years ago that Japanese master potters, probably including Hamada, would turn a perfect pot on the wheel and then at the last moment, slightly tip it sideways. They recognised that perfection is boring and that the eye is intrigued by its perception of something that is not quite right. For that reason I made sure that, while I really do assure you I can draw a pretty good ellipse, these ones would not be perfect. I even drew them out in pencil first (something I normally don't do with these Sketch Crawl drawings), just to make sure they were wrong, before inking them.

While we were drawing in the Museum we were entertained by a brass band, a choir, the Newcastle University Wind Band, and finally by Heaton Voices. As my wife Pat sings in this community choir, it seemed only right that I hang on for their performance though I didn't try to sketch them, unlike some of the other Sketch Crawlers.

Our plan had been to move on to the Laing Art Gallery but by the time we'd listened to the music, shown appreciative choir members sketches of themselves and shuffled though the Xmas crowds in Northumberland Street, it was a bit late to think about doing that. Instead we investigated a building that contained almost nothing but a staircase, ending up on the top floor of The Botanist which was packed. Who could have predicted a bar and restaurant would be full of people on a Saturday afternoon two weeks before Xmas?

In desperate need of coffee and cake we crossed the road to the new food quarter of Eldon Square and settled on stools round a table in TGI Friday's. In deference to Anita's sensitivities, I'll gloss over details of the lukewarm coffee, my American style muffin decorated with cold fried onions (just wrong!), Anita's half-eaten cowpat brownie, her several pots of stewed tea and her eventual face-off with the manager of TGI Friday's. It was all very ... interesting and festive.

Next time: 21st January 2017, possibly at the Lit & Phil. 

3rd Gateshead Jazz Festival

The 3rd Gateshead Jazz Festival has come and gone. Buddy K's bro, the Jazz Geologist, was ill with bronchitis, so I got to use his tickets, and there were several good acts.

My jazz weekend got off to a poor start on Friday with Byron Wallen's Meeting Ground. Wallen's a competent enough trumpeter, and Tony Kofi on baritone sax was excellent, but the highlight of the set was supposed to be the addition of a Gnawa Sufi singer from Morocco, Boujamaa Bouboul. "When I first heard him sing," said Wallen, "it was like the first time I heard Louis Arnstrong play." Wow, I thought, must be good.

Then on shambles this guy in ethnic tie-dies and dreads with a tall gangly mate in tow. What a let-down! I like North African singing, and I note that the Guardian review of the record, quoted on the Amazon site, calls his voice "mesmerising." but last Friday this guy really couldn't sing. Maybe he'd been on the piss. He was flat half the time and the other half you couldn't hear him. His mate stood at the back and clacked some clackers made from what looked like rusty tin. The pair of them gave the impression of having been pulled in off the street and put into some ethnic clothes and told to get out there and do their best. Tony Kofi looked embarrassed. Poot.

The late night entertainment was provided by Bill Bruford and Michiel Borstlap. Drums and piano might not sound like a promising combination, but they were excellent, improvising most of the time and watching each other all the time for cues. They were obviously having a great time and Bruford was superb, using the drums as an instrument, rather than just a rhythm supply. Pity I could only stay for an hour.

The Chris Bowden Trio were the support on Saturday night. Never seen him before, but I'd like to again. The drums and electric bass were a solid armature for Bowden's saxophone solos, described accurately in the programme as "atmospheric ... resonant of film noir soundtracks and with the energy of early bebop."

And then it was time for the great EST (Esbjorn Svensson Trio). Sweden's greatest export since Abba. Svensson on piano is simply stunning; I was able to see his playing technique better than usual by virtue of the big posterised video images being projected live behind him and I realised for the first time how little he uses chords - he plays runs and trills and arpeggios, which must be very tiring and not helped by his posture, slumped over the keyboard.

Dan Berglund on upright bass was quite startling this time too (I've seen them twice before), using effects filters to distort the sound to the point that it began to resemble Hendrix-like feedback. Thrilling.

When Sunday rolled around, we were all excited. This was Patsy123's Big Day. And what a Big Day it was. Andy Sheppard and John Parricelli took the stage first and played some of her favourite pieces from their PS album, then Kuljit Bhamra joined them on tablas and as they played through what I took to be a track from Sheppard's new (downloadable) CD, The Birds, the choir filed onto stage and they launched seamlessly into Glossolalia (Speaking in Tongues), Andy's composition for saxophones, guitar, tabla, percussion and choir, describing the building and destruction of the Tower of Babel.

I don't know quite what I'd expected. I'd heard the CD recorded at last year's performance in Norwich and I'd heard Patsy123 singing little bits to herself, but the actuality was something else. Described afterwards by Buddy K as " a cross between Ligeti and the Honda car ad," the first section was a slowly building collage of clicks, stutters, bits of alphabet and meaningless words. Gradually it took form and became a joyous and lyrical piece with great solos from Andy on tenor and soprano saxes. (I'm always in awe of his circular breathing performances.) And Kuljit Bhamra was just wonderful, his tablas making echoes and counterpoints with the choir.

The choir were superb. Composed of elements from the North-East and from Norwich, all are amateur, but you'd never know it. Their performance was outstanding and their conductor's bum was hypnotic.

The reception was rapturous. The crowd roared out its approval and kept up a constant applause until the last of the choir had left the stage. I think Patsy123 can be justifiably proud of her achievement and that of her co-performers. And now she tells me Andy wants to take the piece to the London Jazz Festival and I'm sure he wouldn't dream of doing it without her.

I know the Barbican isn't a patch on The Sage Gateshead, but hey, it'll do.