Monthly Archives: April 2010

Apr 20 2010
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London

Camera x Music (Beer+Shades)=The Perfect Summer

It’s finally here. The barbeque has been dusted off, you’ve dug out your favourite Havaianas and DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince is deafening your neighbours…it can only mean one thing…

Summer!!!!!!!

 

After spending far too long masquerading as an Inuit, in one of the coldest winter’s in my lifetime, the sun has finally cast its spell over these chilly shores and has given us a taste of things to come. (OK, so it’s hardly Africa, but it’s a start.) 

Lazy summer days fuel the season’s spontaneity and London is the perfect backdrop for the solstice; there’s so much to do that it borders on insane.

Whilst standing in my garden, I started planning; mentally brain-storming; booking advanced orders with the memory bank…

Previous year’s have seen long, liquid lunches in Brick Lane, ordering endless pitchers of Red Stripe whilst a huge parasol shields me from the sun; crate digging for old school sounds at Portobello on a Saturday afternoon, jamming by the river, iPod in attendance whilst reading the Sunday supplements.

And this year, more than ever, there’s a wealth of festivals, events and attractions; markets, film festivals, music, food, art… our cultural capital has never looked/felt/tasted so good.

For me, the Notting Hill Carnival is the summer showpiece; set amongst the fashionable enclave of white stucco-fronted houses, Londoners of all different ethnicities stand shoulder-to-shoulder to witness a colourful parade of brash and bold floats, marvel at intricately designed costumes, consume copious amounts of jerk chicken and Red Stripe, and for one day, escape their daily hum drum lives, and enjoy the moment.

Of course, an obligatory trip Stateside is on the cards (New York anyone?) but what I’m most looking forward to is abandoning the bus, going for a walk and reminding myself why I love this city so much.

So, the elbows and kneecaps have been creamed, my favourite T-shirts have been pressed and the Ray-Ban’s are looking at me, longingly waiting for the day when they can show what they are made of against that bright yellow star.

Summer…..

Don’t.

Let.

Me.

Down.

♫ Roy Hargrove – Poetry

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Apr 09 2010
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Journalism

“This course could seriously alter your life and your thinking”

After a few months in the Journalism wilderness, I was thrown a lifeline in the shape of an Investigative Reporting course. The term ‘investigative reporter’ has always conjured up the image of a man, dressed in a beige-coloured mac, shadily exchanging a brown envelope stuffed with notes, to an anonymous individual at Kings Cross. (Don’t ask.) 

Now, after completing a number of courses in relative succession and finding some of them truly harrowing experiences, the thought of standing up in front of a group of people, white sticky label affixed to my torso, describing three remotely unfunny facts about myself, shocked me to the core.

I vowed never to repeat this process, purely because:

(i)   I didn’t want to recruit any more dormant Facebook ‘friends’;
(ii)  I’d rather not have to make the effort with self-confessed ’crazy, wacky and zany’ people;
(iii) My brain starts to hurt when I think.

I made a call to one of the course leaders a few weeks before, detailing my qualms, only for him to put me at ease with this now immortal line, proudly displayed as this posts’ title.  

But shuffling down the Southbank in the rain one Saturday morning, these misgivings hit me like an elephant on a rope swing. Entering ITV Studios, my nerves were calmed by the security guard who said: “So you are here to become an Investigative Reporter eh?”

Was I? I guess I was.

After being pointed in the direction of the board room, I walked in to be met by the two course leaders. (I should add that I was EARLY, the first person to arrive. Something which is alien to me. The urge to excuse myself and return 15 minutes late became strangely overpowering.)

 

A room with a view?

The two course leaders were respective Investigative Reporters in their own right; writing credits in the New York Times Magazine, The Daily Mail, The Mirror, The Guardian amongst others and documentaries on subjects such as Suicide bombers, pedophilia, HIV and the circus (random, I know.)

In a  small group, with nine other participants, the dreaded ice-breaker reared it’s ugly and unwanted head, but surprisingly it wasn’t that bad. Tame in fact. It was quite fascinating to learn about the paths these other adults (the operative word!) had taken to reach the Thames Room. Documentary researchers, documentary makers, trainee journalists, a teacher and those interested in this powerful, but niche art form, had gathered to drink from the reservoir of investigative innovation.

We were treated to a guest speaker, in the form of investigative reporter Ian Cobain from The Guardian; a self-deprecating type, he worked his way up from a trainee on a local to working for one the most respected and authoritative newspapers in the country.

What was interesting was that he didn’t describe himself as an Investigative Reporter, but a senior reporter who works on longer, more complex stories. Much-lauded and awarded, Cobain has written extensively on the BNP, and torture and its relationship to the UK. 

Here’s a few helpful tips that I scribbled down. One day they’ll come in useful.

~Stop being a civilian…you are doing them a favour by asking them about their miserable lives.
~Journalism is like a samurai sword, you need to sharpen it every day
~There’s no point going through the front door….always pick the side exit!
~Never trawl the ocean for pearls
~Accept hospitality…even if you are a vegetarian journalist…eat that steak!

Come the end of the day I was drained; it was intensive yet inspiring and there was lots of information to process and digest, but it was definitely worth it. The course leaders’ enthusiasm, anecdotes and their nuggets of knowledge made the course more an experience, rather than a staid teacher-learner contract. I made lots of contacts and it oiled my rusty cognitive. 

But I was left wondering if I was leaving changed and reinvigorated; could a course “seriously alter your life and your thinking?”

I guess it can. And it did.

♫ Jamiroquai – When You Gonna Learn?

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Apr 02 2010
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London

Panic on the streets of London…

When American Apparel used this generation’s most popular social networking tool to advertise an ‘event’, it should have come with a warning.

Over 40,000 fashion-forward folk were cordially invited to the ethical chain’s ‘Rummage Sale’, a sort of market where the company sells off deadstock and excess sizes from previous seasons. It’s been a big hit all over the world, with Toronto, Los Angeles and New York being treated to slogan Ts, versatile basics and shiny headbands at bargain prices.

And now it was the turn of  London, a city feted for its style and fashion finesse, to hold this travelling ‘event’. It’s worth noting that when a certain budget retailer opened on Oxford Street three years ago, the middle-market press sniggered at the scores of people ready to do battle over £6 jeans and £2 T-shirts.

In what can only be described as ‘High School Musical-meets-the Hood, beatnik boys and indie girls descended on Brick Lane’s Old Trueman Brewery and rubbed shoulders (and shoved elbows) with a cross-section of London’s under 25s.

It became immediately apparent that American Apparel’s ‘Rummage’ was about to turn into a ‘Scrummage’…

With no queue-barriers or security in sight, the Police were swiftly called in to control the desperate and baying mob. Tensions were at breaking point. And with no explanation as to why the doors were still closed at 10.45am, it took just two, stupid individuals to take it to the next level.

 

Here’s where London didn’t disappoint: When the Police become involved in innocuous public events, the ‘us vs. them’ mentality kicks in, and it descends into a farcical show of bravado, pointless violence and anti-social behaviour.

 

Within an hour, the riot squad dispatched disappointed teens, shocked onlookers and bewildered passers-by from the area and the doors to 81 Brick Lane remained firmly shut. The ‘event’ became an event in itself.

Do we really value clothes over our own safety? Has our consumerist culture snuck up behind us and dealt us a blow to our moral and ethical behaviours? Either way, it is worrying.

Whilst the company made an apology on the ‘events’ Facebook page, you can’t help but wonder why this respected retailer didn’t think ahead and plan proper security measures. It only takes one crossed look or someone being in the wrong place at the wrong time for a repeat of the tragic events at last year’s G20 summit. And we all know what happened there.

American Apparel prides itself on its ethical fashion footprint and its attitude towards eradicating slave labour and poor factory conditions, but after today’s event, we should be asking ourselves: Can American Apparel seriously damage our health?

♫ The Smiths – Panic

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