Saturday, September 23, 2017

Stories about bombs

Stories about bombs have punctuated my life.
Born when the welfare state was also a baby;
I heard about my dad firewatching on the roof
Of an art school in blitzed London,
And composing an oil painting whilst he was up there.
I heard about the shrapnel,
Still embedded in an aunt’s leg.
And, every so often, a radio announcer might report
Unexploded ordinance, found buried on a building site.

One day, Cuba was in the news,
Nikita Khrushchev banged his shoe on a desk at the UN,
That was the first time that I saw my father scared.

Made to be a school boy cadet,
The worst bomb I heard was a thunderflash,
Just oversized fireworks,
Thrown about by boys in pretend wars;
Whilst half a world away,
Youths threw real grenades at each other
In Vietnam.

But London learned the hard way
That old wounds don’t always heal,
As propaganda of the deed reminded us,
Of an unjustly held colony,
Kept down by British army boots
Across a narrow sea.
A bandstand blew up,
A cast iron waste bin disintegrated in a high street, killing a child.
Sudden night blasts outside Territorial Army barracks;
And then, after a general election,
I heard a massive dull thud roll up from the Thames valley,
To my suburban hilltop,
As a debt was repaid in the City.
Not content with that,
The Fenians blew me out of bed,
Where I lay drunk, trying to forget
The start of four more Tory years,
As, three quarters of a mile away
A four-lane flyover was lifted off its foundations,
By an exploding van.

A truce came to London, until Jihad began
Old wounds don’t always heal,
Crusades and colonialism festered,
And oil was not a balm,
For those treacherous treaties, Sykes-Picot, Balfour
And all the other dodgy dealing,
Spooking and conniving,
To keep those motors running.
But the truth could be that
It doesn’t worry me more
Than the chance of dying in traffic accident.

Stupidity seems to breed Stupidity,
Just today the world’s prize-winning stupidest man
Addressed the UN to threaten a nation
With total destruction.

I wish, because it’s all I can do,
is wish
That he’d taken off his shoe,
Like Nikita Khrushchev did, but then
Beat himself with it,
Over his dyed blond head.


Friday, September 01, 2017

FREE by Free Painters and Sculptors A group exhibition exploring ideas of freedom in modern times

FREE by Free Painters and Sculptors
A group exhibition exploring ideas of freedom in modern times

Clerkenwell Gallery, 20 Clerkenwell Green, London, EC1R 0DP

Tuesday 26th – Saturday 30th September 2017
Opening Hours: 12-7pm (except Thursday 12-5pm)

Private View: Thursday 28th September6-9pm
(please rsvp)
Capturing the essence of freedom and diversity, a new and exciting exhibition from Free Painters and Sculptors (FPS) opens to the public on Tuesday 26th September.

This exhibition explores the principles, reflected in the core beliefs of FPS, of free speech and artistic expression and features work from members of the group using a wide variety of materials and styles.
FPS, an artist-led organisation, was first established in 1952. Since its inception, the idea of freedom has been at the heart of its beliefs. In the aftermath of World War II, it was vital for the group to be able to protect the principles of artistic freedom, free speech and expression, and to challenge established notions and values.

Clearly, since that time, there have been significant, and positive changes in attitudes concerning class, gender, sexuality, race and religion. Despite this progress, there is still a great need to defend these values.

FPS is proud to be an artistic collective that champions and encompasses the essence of diversity. Many of the exhibiting artists will be present at the show at which you will be able to discuss and see their artistic representations of freedom and diversity.

FPS was originally associated with the ICA (Institute of Contemporary Arts) and came to prominence by playing a significant part in the establishment of abstract art in the 1950's and 60's. Founding members featured many high profile and influential artists, including Roy Rasmussen, Lyall Watson and Maurice Jadot, who all feature in the permanent Tate Collection.

In 2017 FPS celebrates its 65th anniversary.