The Creative Identity

Intermission

I've just read that the wonderful, wonderful, wonderful writer and director Harold Ramis has died. It's a piece of news that hit me surprisingly hard, most probably because I grew up in the eighties and, in my mind, Ghostbusters and Groundhog Day formed the backdrop of very happy times. Every February I watch Groundhog Day in loops. I must have watched it another eight times this month. It's difficult to crystallise the reasons for my feeling so weirdly displaced by the loss of this creative soul. It's not like I ever knew him personally. Yet, we connect with other beings through their stories and their art in ways that transcend regular relationships. I often think that I have a lot more in common with John Keats, illness notwithstanding, than I have with anyone at all I know. And additionally, of course, there is also another gut response tonight: WHAT THE HELL 69 ISN'T OLD! I believe that Harold's best work is summed up in the surreal Groundhog Day, in which an insufferable miser gets a taste of himself over and over for eternity. It has comedy, poetry and that ineffable poignancy that touches your soul and never ever gets old. Still, he'll probably always be in our hearts as the genial, unforgettable Egon, and that too is very fine indeed. With much love to Harold Ramis Read more →

Write Around Town

I've been very slack this month. But I have two stellar reasons for it. First of all, two weeks ago approximately two square meters of plasterwork collapsed from my ceiling onto my table, obliterating everything on it, and the table itself, which got smashed in two, with one leg snapped clear off. It was a Monday evening and I was skipping home on the wings of a triumphant day at the office, in my fantastic new job. And you know the sort of evening: you put the key in the door and smirk to yourself... what should I do tonight? Read a book in a bath filled with 300 liters of foam? Dial for a pizza and indulge myself with Legally Blonde? A leafing through Vogue with a side of cumberbatching? The possibilities were endless, until the lounge rose before my very eyes at the top of the stairs. Why was the Dyson over and backwards and what the buggery bloody hell was that stuff on it? Suffice to say my gentle reader, it was a War Zone and this is indeed one of those occurrences in which one picture is worth a thousand words. Six sacks of rubble and four hours later, I dragged myself to the local Pizza Express to regroup. I left the room (and the kitchen, and the stairs, and the hall), covered by three inches of dust. Lots of people have come and gone since then, lots of pics have been taken, and lots of... Read more →

Intermission

The first Bauman Rare Books catalogue of 2014 is out and features the wonderful John Donne amongst others. Get it immediately and maybe use it for Valentine's Day inspiration? I hope your cashflow allows it... Download BaumanRareBooksJan2014 Read more →

Magic in The Mundane: The Art of Gilbert Legrand

There are many wonderful artists in many different ways. I often tell you about them and always find that half of my quest in life, after creating itself, is finding others who create also. Amongst the wonderful artists I know there is one who is veritably genial: Gilbert Legrand. He's known as the artist of les petites choses, or little things, but what petites choses really means is everyday things, found things, mundane things. I like the word mundane even though there's little to like about what it evokes. Mundane may mean everyday, up to a point, but, really, it infers banality and ordinariness. At a deeper level still, it means unimaginative. It is precisely the juxtaposition between what he calls 'little, mundane things' and what said things really look like after they've received the Gilbert treatment that elevates Gilbert to a god-like level of artistry. Think I'm in raptures over nothing? Well, watch this. See what I mean? Are you grinning yet? I could (and often do) leaf through images of his objects for hours and they never fail to surprise me, make me smile and often laugh. I also seek to recognise the objects he has used for his sculptures and I must tell you that I don't always succeed. If you have little children, I encourage you to get yourself a set of postcards of his sculptures and question your little ones: can they recognise the little things? I bet they can't! He's so imaginative at giving... Read more →

Intermission