September 15, 2015

8.00 am. Inbox inquiries, put to rout; a modicum of packing and preparation for an unexpected trip, undertaken; and work needed on voyage, assembled. 8.45 am. Off to School. 9.15 am. The galleries are readied for the new MA Fine Art exhibition to be installed over the next few days:


In between impromptu advisory sessions with exhibitors I blitzed my cupboards and draws, disposing of papers, files, posters, and booklets that have not been rifled through in too many years, along with adapters and transformers (for who knows what), dead scanners, mice, and computer keyboards, and software discs that expired with Microsoft Vista. (Live light!):


Our maturity is most manifest in how we respond to disappointment, discouragement, loss, failure, temptation, poverty, wealth, and good fortune.

You’d think that hanging just a half dozen artworks would be a doddle. Rarely is it. The student must decide which six (from all the works that they’ve produced): will represent their best efforts; demonstrate both scope and focus; belong together; and form a coherent and sequential run. The council and perspective of others is always at hand, and should be consulted. (Only ‘A fool is right in his own eyes’.) But at the end of the day, it’s the student (taking up the mantle of a professional artist) who must make the final determination.

1.30 pm. Off, on a moderately delayed train, to Birmingham, with a rucksack stuffed with computery devices and documents to enable me to travel productively:


Having edited the postgraduate studies document and responded to email, I pushed on with the fifth Abstraction lecture with Kandinsky’s Concerning the Spiritual in Art at my elbow. To my mind, his theories are more engaging than his painting. Rarely did his compositions address to the bounding edge of the format.


4.25 pm. I arrived with time in hand to revisit the cathedral. The interior was decked with scaffolding and safety curtains, while the ancillary areas were closed to the public. Nevertheless, an impressive sight – gaunt and theatrical:


7.00 pm. One more Evening with King Crimson, this time at the Birmingham Symphony Hall and as the guest of Robert Fripp. This was unexpected invitation that landed in my inbox late Sunday evening. The band was, again, on top form. They were a blast. The Salford audience was much less restrained in their enthusiasm. A concert hall imposes a certain civility on the audients:


10.00 pm. My accommodation was at a B & B outside the city centre. The host was a warm, welcoming, and chatty Brummy, with a penchant for a somewhat Gothic turn of interior decoration. (What was in the ‘Dungeon’?) A black teddy bear occupied a plant pot in the bathroom. (What was that about?) Two plaster figurines looked down from the windowsill on those seeking relief in the loo. (Did I see their heads move?) A little unnerving!:





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