sometimes there's blood

 

 

The music flowed through the heavy laden heat of 'The Kitchen Garden' on Friday night. We were treated to two fantastic sets, the first by the phenomenal Welsh guitarist, Gwenifer Raymond.

 

Gwenifer is, in the words of her Facebook page, a 'guitar convincer, banjo thumber and American Primitive musician.' We didn't need much convincing. She delivered a thunderous set which hailed down notes like falling scree in a Welsh slate-quarry!

 

If you haven't heard Gwenifer before look her up on YouTube.  Here's, 'Sometimes There's Blood', 'a  fleet-fingered song on her debut album, 'You Never Were Much of a Dancer.'

 

 

 

 

urban driftwood

 

This is Yasmin Williams, a brilliant young American guitarist from North Virginia. We watched her play a few days ago and were mesmerised with the beauty of her music.

 

Yasmin's compositions are calming, almost gamelan in their haunting precision. The description 'guitarist' does not do her justice. Whilst her finger-picking is exemplary she explores the deeper dynamic textures of her instrument. 

 

Yasmin lays the guitar on her lap, taps the fret-board to coax out ringing notes, plays it like a dulcimer with a small mallet, takes a bow to the strings and tapes a kalimba (a type of thumb-piano) to the body .  At the same time she punctuates the music with percussive accompaniments tapped out on a kick-board at her feet. 

 

It was a performance not to be forgotten and unlike anything we had ever seen before.

Her second album, 'Urban Driftwood' was released last year. I was very fortunate indeed to buy it on CD, having been out of stock in the UK for several months.  You can listen to it on Spotify or check out her performances on YouTube, of which this is one. Take a listen. You won't be disappointed!

 

 

 

n

 

 

 

The lights dim, Yasmin waves as she leaves the stage and the ghostly sounds of her guitar echo into the hot night-air. What an experience!

 

 

 

the light passed between us

 

 

 

 

 and so the light

passed between us

sliced

through british country life

 

tracing summer

and a thousand years

of monks

who line our endless path

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the urban landscape

 

I'm a member of a photography group in Birmingham led by Kate Green, an absolutely fantastic tutor.  This week's challenge was to shoot, 'The Urban Landscape' in the manner of a favourite photographer.

 

 This had me stumped on two counts. First, I live in the heart of the country and the urban world is one upon which I increasingly turn my back. Secondly, with one or two notable exceptions (such as the fantastic tea-houses of Terunobu Fujimori), I do not profess any interest in buildings or architecture.  We have some excellent photographers in the group who cover this area particularly well, but it's not something that floats my boat. As the French say, 'chacun à son goût'.

 

Accordingly, it was not a project to which I particularly looked forward.  And then I thought of cinematography and two cult TV programmes. The first was, 'The Avengers', a quintessentially eccentric 1960s adventure series in which the streets and countryside of England were, bar the main protagonists, habitually devoid of human life. The second, 'Twin Peaks' was a delicious study of a weird and twisted America produced by David Lynch, a gifted photographer in his own right.

 

With this in mind I set off to produce some shots that might conjure disquieting emotions behind an urbane surface.

My first, the photograph above, was of a petrol station currently undergoing renovation. The purple-painted barrier questioned what might be concealed behind.

 

 

The second photo was of an all too familiar scene in our post-Covid world. An abandoned pub. This time no renovation was underway. Whilst the telephone wire running from the top right might suggest a link to the world it had long since been severed. The pub lay empty and haunted.

 

 

 

Perhaps my unconscious mind deliberately sought out images related to fuel.  There are three in this series.  This one reflected the spiralling cost of filling up the tank.

 

 

Continuing the theme, my fourth image featured another petrol station. This one was fully functional, yet it seemed dwarfed beneath the gathering clouds.

 

 

 

The penultimate photograph is my favourite. An empty bus-stop. It has so many possible stories.

 

Young lovers who kiss and touch nervously but tenderly; mothers with giggling children excited to journey into town; the elderly waiting for their very last bus home.

 

 

The final photograph was taken as the light faded. An old agricultural building condemned to die behind yet another fence. A gleaming new-build estate waits ready to spring to life. It brings the cycle full circle.

jubilee party - part two