Jude Calvert-Toulmin

Instagram iphoneography and extragram

2012-01-25T10:53:00.002Z

You can follow me on instagram on the iphone/ipod or on the web here.

This is a shot of Travis, who adopted us at Christmas, starving and lost, taken with the Hipstamatic app and then uploaded onto Instagram. I am crazy about Instagram, I absolutely love it.

Instagram is wonderful and the filters are amazing.You can find me on there as @jcalverttoulmin (same as twitter.) If you like my pics, then please follow me, I've only got a few followers atm as I just joined a few days ago! If I like people's photos, I follow them, I honestly don't understand why other people don't do the same; is it a form of snobbery, the thing that has always put me off Twitter? Who knows. I still love it though.

Mercy from Frontier Media on DVD

2012-01-18T11:06:00.001Z

Mercy, the film by João Paulo Simões from Frontier Media in which I played the lead role of the author "Jude", is now available on DVD for £5.99, the price of a couple of pints in the pub.

One of the extras on the DVD is an interview with me about playing a woman grieving over the disappearance of her teenage daughter, about doing a sex scene with my real-life husband and about gender inequality in the media. God, even that's worth £5.99.

By entering the password "Mercy" you can watch a free preview of the film here.

João was so happy with my performance in Mercy that he's already cast me in the lead for his next project for Frontier Media in which I'll be playing a psychiatrist.

The closed facebook group for Mercy with nearly 1500 members is here. João is fast gaining international respect for his work; you can join the group by clicking the apply to join button.

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Vodafone and Goldman Sachs - The Great British Tax Scandal - Petition

2012-01-06T09:00:00.001Z

The government are letting huge corporations like Vodafone and Goldman Sachs get away with BILLIONS in unpaid tax. SO ARE YOU unless you sign this petition from lobbying group Avaaz to register your disapproval.

From Avaaz: (my huge red text because that's the truly outrageous bit.)

Our tax chief had secret lunches with Vodafone and Goldman Sachs and then handed them billions in tax breaks – while keeping Parliament in the dark!

MPs are outraged, claiming we are owed over 25 billion pounds in back taxes from these and similar dodgy deals. But the tax agency has blocked an inquiry into the scandal and refuses to release documents to shed light on why these tax breaks were ordered in the first place.

By acting together now we can ensure full transparency on the Goldman Sachs and Vodafone deals, and get them to pay the tax they owe. Let’s turn up the heat -- sign the petition to David Cameron for tax justice -- we’ll deliver it with a splash next week.

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Brian Trevelyan's Happy Cat about Travis, the cat who found us.

2012-01-05T12:47:00.003Z

Travis sitting on my breast in our bed taken with Hipstamatic. Lens: Jimmy Film: Float Flash: Off

A few days before Christmas, a strange cat walked through our cat flap. Our four cats, Frank Zappa, Little Girl Lizzie, Mojo and Growler were nowhere to be seen at the time, all nestled in their various beds and boxes throughout our house. I didn't shoo him away. He looked at me, his eyes frightened and pleading. Nobility and courage shone out through eyes dulled by hunger. His fur was a matted mess, clumpy and ungroomed. This cat was desperate. I offered him some food, he ate a little, winced in pain, then left again.

The following day he returned, and the day after, until eventually he started to sleep here, curled up behind the kitchen dustbin with a wary eye half open towards the cat flap. Day by day he fed more although judging by his yelps of pain as the food went into his mouth, we deduced he must have some dental problems. At night he started to sleep under our bed, in a box of my old Beanie Babies awaiting a shelf in our bedroom to display them. By the third day we were in love with him. We had won his trust and he had won our hearts.

We advertised on Sheffield Forum in case anyone had lost him. I was, of course, secretly hoping no-one would come forward to claim him. Similarly we let the RSPCA know. No-one claimed him; he seemed to have no owner and had certainly been sleeping rough for some weeks. We took him to our local vets, Peak Vets. They confirmed he was underfed and had dental problems. He also had an irregular heart beat. Blood tests would be needed to determine whether he was healthy enough to be put under anaesthetic for dental work. The operation was going to cost hundreds of pounds. The alternative was going to be handing him over to the RSPCA, who would pay for all his treatment, but then we'd have to hand him over to them for rehoming. I couldn't do it. He trusted us, to care for and love him, not to give him to strangers who would put him in a cage for more strangers to look at and take away.

Luckily, as an author with a slowly growing fan base, one of my fans who has since become a friend, offered to mentor Travis and pay for his vetinary care. So he is about to undergo treatment. I will keep you all posted, hoping it's good news.

In the meantime, here is a short story my husband Brian Trevelyan wrote, from the point of view of Travis.

Happy Cat by Brian Trevelyan

Cold.

I’m so cold.

The rain is hissing in the dark and my fur is wet, plastered to my skin. Even here under this bush it’s dripping on me.

But I don’t move. I just crouch here and shiver and close my eyes and wait.

Once, a long time ago, I lived in a house, with people. It was warm and sometimes they stroked me and let me sit on them. But mostly they ignored me and sometimes shouted at me. One day the man took me away from the house in his moving thing and put me on the ground in a place I didn’t know, and his moving thing went away with him still in it.

I sat on the ground and waited, and I called for the man to come back for me, but he didn’t come. Another man came with a dog, and the dog saw me, sitting in the dark. I felt its eyes on me, so I ran away and hid from the dog. Dogs can hurt you. They don’t like us. They make a big noise and act mad. They scare me.

I didn’t know where the man had gone, or where my house was. The people in the strange houses scared me. They smelt wrong, and some of them shouted and hissed and made me run. Some were nice, some of them stroked me and made nice noises at me, but nobody let me go into their house, and nobody gave me food, and I got really hungry.

Near the houses were lots of trees and bushes, and I could smell and hear things living there. Things I could catch and eat. I lived there, and crept through the grey woods, listening for the small things on the ground. I never used to eat them, but now I did, because I was so hungry and nobody would feed me.

Once, I tried to go into a house, because it had a little door in the big door, like where I used to live, and I knew there would be food inside. So I went in, and found some food, but another cat came in and saw me and screamed at me, so I screamed back, and then a woman came and she screamed at me too and I had to run.

After that, I stayed away from the houses, and stayed in the woods. But I wanted to live in a house again and be stroked. I liked to be stroked, and have my neck scratched, and sleep on a warm person and feel safe.

I don’t feel good. It was warm when the man left me, but that was a long time ago. Now it’s cold and wet and dark a lot, and I haven’t been able to catch much to eat. My mouth is hurting all the time now. I caught a small thing, back when it wasn’t as cold as this, and when I ate it and crunched it with my side teeth, something sharp stuck into me, inside my mouth, and I could taste my own blood as well as the blood of the small thing.

Now, I can still catch the small things, but when I try and eat them, it hurts me so much I can only eat the soft parts. There aren’t as many small things about now. I don’t think they like the cold. Neither do I. I feel like I want to just go to sleep, here in the wet, cold darkness, just close my eyes and sleep for a long, long time. But I’m shivering too much and my mouth is really hurting. Maybe if I can get warmer, I can go to sleep for a long time. I feel like I need to, and I don’t feel like I want to catch any more things to eat. If a dog came now I don’t even think I’d run away. I just want to sleep.

I can smell another cat. Somewhere in the dark, another cat has walked past where I am. I wonder where it lives. It smells happy.

I can see houses, up the hill, away from the trees. There’s a house with lots of lights. It looks so warm. I wonder if that’s where the happy cat lives.

I’m so cold.

I’m going to follow the happy cat’s trail and see if I can find a warm place. Maybe I can be happy as well. I was once before. Maybe then I can sleep forever and won’t feel cold any more, and won’t have this pain in my mouth and won’t need to eat any more.

Out into the hissing rain, muddy ground, past a little house. Nobody lives in the little houses. Men keep things in them. They shout at me when I try to go inside, and once I got shut in one and it was a long time before the man let me out, and he shouted at me too.

Up these steps, past some water. I can smell other cats now too. They all smell happy.

More steps, and now I’m near the house with all the lights. The happy cats must live here. There’s a little door in the big door, like my old house. I’m scared to go in. But I have to lie down somewhere warm. I don’t care if people shout at me.

I push open the little door with my paw and look inside. I can smell the other cats, the happy cats. It smells like a happy house. I can smell people too, but they aren’t there, I can tell. Maybe they’re asleep. People sleep when it’s dark. They never go out and catch small things to eat.

It’s warm. My face feels warm. I step inside and the little door rattles shut. Nobody comes to chase me. I can smell food. Over there, on the floor. Slowly, the other cats are around somewhere. They might scream at me and bring the people down to chase me away.

It’s like the food the woman used to give me. So much nicer than the little things in the woods. My mouth hurts so much! I eat a bit but it’s too painful, I have to leave it.

I go back to the little door and lie on the floor just near it, so I can go out if I need to.

Sleep.

Noise. The little door rattles, and there’s a cat standing really near me. A big cat with lots of white on him. He stares at me but he doesn’t scream. I’m so tired, I don’t even move. I close my eyes and when I open them, he’s gone to the food, and he’s sniffing it where I was eating it. He looks at me again then goes out of sight.

Suddenly all the lights go off, and it’s dark. Dark and warm, and I can feel the bit of food inside me and I don’t feel like sleeping forever now. But I need to sleep. Just sleep.

Noise. There’s a man coming, I can tell by the loud noise he makes. People bang on the floor with their paws when they walk. Maybe that’s why they can’t catch things.

I’ve been asleep and now I feel better. Quick, out through the little door!

The big door opens and the man is there, looking at me. Should I run? But he’s not shouting. He has that nice voice that nice people make when they like me, and now he’s doing that thing with his front paw that means he wants me to come near him. But I’m too scared.

He’s closed the door now. It’s still raining, but it’s not dark any more. I want to go back in.

I go back through the little door and the man is there. He makes the nice voice again and stays still. He doesn’t make danger smells. I sit and look at him and he makes the face that nice people make when they’re happy. He bends down and puts some food on the floor near me. He’s giving me food, like the woman used to do. He moves away and I feel less scared, and the food smells so good. I try to eat it but the pain makes me cry out and jump away.

The man sits on the floor and holds out his paw. I sniff it and he smells happy and friendly. I rub my head on him and then he’s stroking me and it feels warm and tingly and it’s like it was before the man left me.

The other cats, the happy cats, are all here now. Four of them. They aren’t screaming at me, although one, a fluffy girl cat, hisses a bit. The man makes a sharp noise at her and she stops.

I like it here. The man is nice and the happy cats aren’t screaming at me.

Maybe I can be a happy cat too.

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You can see Brian Trevelyan performing Happy Cat at Northern Lights, upstairs at The Rutland Arms, Sheffield, on Tuesday 10th January, 19:30hrs onwards.

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Sinéad O'Connor

2011-12-28T07:37:00.001Z

This started off as a Facebook post but I thought I'd post it here too.

Sinéad O'Connor, of whom I've long been an admirer, is in the press again and through reading about it from the horse's mouth on her blog I found this page, her Letters to Bob Dylan, which is quite brilliant.

Here she is at Madison Square Gardens getting booed by the audience after having sung out about child abuse on Saturday Night Live in her own version of Bob Marley's "War". So what does she do in response to the booing? Decides not to go ahead with singing "I Believe in You" as rehearsed, but steels herself and sings "War" again to the booing audience, thus silencing them. Fucking hardcore.

Sinéad is one of those people who, if she were to die, we'd get all the sanctimonious, pious "RIP Sinéad I loved her" crap mushrooming up all over Facebook. Well, if you love her, show her the love now instead of waiting until she's dead; she's going through a hard time, well she has been for years, mainly because as a woman it is forbidden to be beautiful, talented, creative, influential and outspoken all at once. Instead, you'll be labelled a crazy person by this patriarchal society and those who buy into it.

Oh sorry, I forgot, showing some love and respect for the living is not as sexy or easy or attention-grabbing as the pouring out of mock grief over RIP posts is it? Well, you know where her Facebook page is...

EDIT: I just want to say, after having just re-read Sinéad's Letters to Bob Dylan again, I really hope Bob replies to her. I'm a big Dylan fan but don't think he's a demi-god; for me he's a brilliant bloke who's a bit obsessed with touring to the point where it must mess up his relationships. Anyway I hope he contacts Sinéad; I think it would be a noble thing to do.

The Lemonheads It's A Shame About Ray tour. Sheffield,The Plug.

2011-12-09T13:33:00.001Z

Most recent update 20:15 09/12/11

I no longer write much about musicians (you can find previous interviews with artists, musicians, filmmakers and photographers on the right hand side bar beneath the comments) but one thing that motivates me is injustice, and having been to The Lemonheads gig at Sheffield's The Plug last night, I felt I had to write to redress the balance regarding criticism of certain gigs in the UK leg of their tour.

I don't normally read reviews of bands either, but not knowing much about The Lemonheads, having had my head into my babies and my own band in the nineties with little time for much else, I thought I'd see what the response was to this tour. Review after review online was criticising Evan Dando for not communicating with the audience. Jesus some people shouldn't be let loose with a fucking keyboard.

It's quite obvious even from only seeing one gig that this is a shy, serious musician who communicates to the audience through his music, you numpties. Not every performer is like Iggy Pop, leaping around the stage, making constant eye contact with the audience, and, in the case of their Harewood House gig near Leeds in 2007, reaching out to hold my hand. (This is not the first time I've had intimate contact with Iggy, but so as not to interrupt the flow of this rant against stupid gig-going bloggers and Facebook users I'll tell you the story of me and Iggy in Ladbroke Grove thirty years ago at the end of this article.)

The Lemonheads in their current line-up communicated with the audience brilliantly, all the way through, via the music. The audience fucking loved it; they were playing to a packed house and it was a blinding gig, so if anyone posts any more reviews saying Evan Dando doesn't communicate with the audience they're talking out their arse.

Above: The Lemonheads at The Globe, Cardiff. Pic courtesy Francis Brown.

On the UK leg of this tour (the band have already played multiple dates in the US and are returning for more in the New Year) Evan is joined on this tour by guitarist Josh Lattanzi (The Candles) and drummer Brian Nolan (American Hi-Fi).

Whilst googling about the line-up for this tour, I just had the following conversation with my husband Brian (he's in that still for the film Mercy on the top of the right sidebar.) Bear in mind I'm the guitarist, not him.

Me: It says here "Josh Lattanzi, guitarist." He was playing a bass, Brian.

Brian: He was. But at times he was playing it like a guitarist. The reason I noticed was because at one point he started doing these big power chords on the bass, almost like a lead guitarist. And another moment the bass rhythm disappeared near the end of one of the songs, can't remember which one now, and I noticed it, looked up and Evan looked across at him too and he'd started strumming the bass. It was just one of those little moments that you notice; it's not a criticism. But it did occur to me as a non musician that just briefly it didn't look or sound like a regular bass player. It was still great though.

Me: Oh really. That's interesting. I didn't notice. I wasn't really looking at his playing style.

Brian (smiling indulgently): I know what you were looking at.

Yasee, this is the other thing I want to rant about. Female reviewers. You want to be treated equal to men, right? Yet when writing about Evan Dando you keep falling into the same trap as stupid males banging on about Beyonce's arse.

It doesn't matter what he looks like. Yes, he's probably the hottest man I've seen IRL for the last five years. Forget that. Irrelevant. It's about the music.

I do feel that in the spirit of equality of the sexes this is an appropriate point to insert a picture of me climbing topless.

I really liked his stage presence, he's obviously quite shy, and he gets into the music the best way, by diving into the deep water of the music and swimming around under the surface of it, eyes closed or cast to the ceiling. And that is the most effective way, in my opinion, of communicating with an audience. Musically, it's a pure way. In fact I believe it's the only way. It's what Amy did. It's what Gavin Clark does (you'll have heard his music in the films of Shane Meadows.) It's what Red Snapper did when we saw them at The Plug last month. It's what Sieben and then I Monster did at the UK's urban Glastonbury, Sheffield Tramlines, when Mal (from The Cabs aka Cabaret Voltaire) performed live for the first time in yonks to a mesmerised audience in the sumptuous and slightly eery surroundings of the City Hall Ballroom (Sheffield's best venue imo.)

Honestly, I feel really strongly about this. You don't have to be a musician to talk about or understand music, but if you really don't get how musicians communicate with the audience, then don't slag them off online, because ultimately, it says fuck all about the gig and everything about your own ignorance and stupidity.

A brilliant gig and I'm definitely going to see them next time they come to Sheffield. I might even offer to cook them dinner. With my clothes on.

Confetti, performed in Philly 2011:

My Drug Buddy, 1997. They're still as good as this...

And my favourite number from the Sheffield gig, Why Do You Do This to Yourself? from Baby I'm Bored. First time I've ever heard it and I felt so inspired I've just taught it myself on the guitar. My favourite chords and chord changes as well. The simplest songs are the best. Below, from a gig in Seattle earlier in 2011.

Oh god, I almost forgot to tell you about Iggy didn't I? Well, after I left film school in Manchester I moved to London for the whole of the 80s where I worked as a geisha girl in a Japanese nightclub in Mayfair, photographed bands and earnt a fortune busking on the London tube.

It's 1981. I'm 21, young and gorgeous. Iggy has just been dropped from Arista and is still into drugs. He's just published his autobiography, but his fame is currently on the wane. I still fucking LOVE him. I'm in Ladbroke Grove, in this really cool, backstreet second-hand clothes shop, located in an old Victorian terraced house. I'm walking up the narrow flight of stairs from the ground floor entrance up to first floor shop level and who should I see suddenly walking down the stairs towards me but Iggy Pop.

I look him straight in the eye. He looks me straight in the eye. We walk towards one another, and just as he nears me, we both lower our eyes and he turns his body to face mine as we squeeze past each other on the stairs, body to body, chest to chest, groin to groin. I feel like I'm going to faint. I just had Iggy's crotch against mine and he oozes sex appeal, it's just foaming out of him in a tsunami of testosterone. I carry on walking up the stairs, thinking "Really I should just run downstairs and ask him if he wants to go for a drink or something." But I'm 21, riddled with insecurity and far too shy.

I'd been out with musicians, and in the next year I was to have two songs written about me get into the top ten. But I was never into that whole groupie thing. What a fucking idiot though, twenty-one and in my prime, thinking I wasn't good enough to ask Iggy for a drink. Youth. TSK! Wasted on the young.

Me at 21 thinking I'm not good enough for Iggy. Ha!

*Climbing nerds. The topless shot was to accompany an article I wrote for the last ever issue of HIGH mag, entitled Tits vs Homo-Eroticism, Which is More Acceptable at the Crag?

The Fine Art of Plugging

2011-11-29T12:45:00.006Z

Still from Mercy, due for release on DVD Christmas 2011.

Jude Calvert-Toulmin to Hollywood actress Jessica Cameron: It's the equivalent of running into someone's birthday party as the birthday girl is blowing out the candles, jumping onto the table and shouting "Yes but it's my birthday next week everyone!”

As unofficial co-producer for the independent Sheffield film Mercy, due for release on DVD Christmas 2011, I’ve got nothing against plugging your own work. At some point I planned to blog about Mercy, but what has prompted me to do so before the film has even been released is being drawn into a pointless bitch fest by a Hollywood actress.

Word has obviously been getting around Hollywood about a small indy film called Mercy from Sheffield and Jessica Cameron, a Canadian actress from LA, recently came onto the film’s Facebook wall and promptly spammed it by copying and pasting her default PR blurb. I deleted it as I hate spam, but it was the generic “I’m brilliant love me like my page” bollocks.

If David Lynch had done the same I’d have deleted his post too. He wouldn’t have done it of course, because (leaving aside his genius as an artist) he’s polite. What annoyed me about this spamming was its basic lack of courtesy. Promote your work by all means, but it would be polite to actually comment on the film whose page you’re using to plug your own stuff, *before* plastering your generic blurb everywhere.

My motto, as I said in front of 5 million people recently (to be broadcast in February, more on that closer to airing date) is “Do as you would be done by.” No actress on the wall for her new film wants another actress leaping onto the table next to the birthday cake and...oh we’ve used that analogy already. Get my drift though? Here is the full bitch fest which Jessica deleted this morning. Viewing her showreel has now brought out all my protective maternal instincts and I hope none of this has upset her.

Did her spamming work? Only because I’m not some hatchet-faced bitch who just deleted it and thought no more of it. Being a writer, I wanted to follow it up. And being a mother, I wanted to help her refine her PR forays online. So it’s all good. But Jessica, you ain’t wiping my spats off the internet blackboard luv. And if you're a very lucky girl, you might make it as a character in one of my books. Didn’t anyone tell you that all publicity is good publicity?

JESSICA CAMERON’S FACEBOOK FAN PAGE WALL, SOMEWHERE IN CYBERSPACE, NOVEMBER 28th – 29th 2011.

JUDE CALVERT-TOULMIN: Jessica, I notice you only allow yourself to start new threads on your own wall, well don't spam on the wall for the film Mercy then. Honestly. It's just not cricket as we say in England.

Jude Calvert-Toulmin, author, publisher and actress

JESSICA CAMERON: Every page is different which is why as the admin of any page you can set your settings to show what people want to see. You did start a thread, it’s just on the everyone part of the page, so I am not sure why you are upset?

JUDE CALVERT-TOULMIN: I posted on the wall and then minutes later the post was gone so naturally I assumed it had been zapped. What therefore annoyed me was the idea that you (is this you? or is it your PR people running your page for you?) had zapped my own post and yet spammed on the wall of a film in which I had the lead role. I can now see that, as you say, there is a setting to see everyone's post so I apologise.

However I still think being invited into the closed group for a film, and then not even bothering to watch the short film preview from the link but instead posting your generic promo blurb on the wall is discourteous. It's the equivalent of running into someone's birthday party as the birthday girl is blowing out the candles, jumping
onto the table and shouting "Yes but it's *my birthday next week everyone!*.

It's not only disrespectful, it's also deeply uncool.

If my PR people were behaving like this then I'd sack them.

Anyway I'm an author, this is an interesting story and I'm going to blog about it. A lot of people googling your name are then going to end up on my blog which promotes my novels and also the film I just acted in.

However it will also be a small bit of extra publicity for you which I don't begrudge at all because us creatives are all in the same industry together and should all support one another, so if my blog article brings you something good, I will be nothing but happy about it :)

JESSICA CAMERON: I disagree. First off you are making assumptions which is stupid. You are assuming that I did not watch the film...

Second - the film is not just about you, or any other ONE person involved with it.

It’s a group effort.

JUDE CALVERT-TOULMIN:

> You are assuming that I did not watch the film...

If you did watch it and still chose not to comment but to just copy and paste your promo blurb onto the wall, it makes it even more rude! It's just a matter of basic courtesy.

> the film is not just about you, or any other ONE person involved with it. It’s a group effort.

Indeed it is. I don't see what relevance that has to our discussion. The only reason I am commenting is because I'm one of the page admins trying to keep the page spam free. Obviously, a new underground film by a hip director with hip Sheffield connections is going to attract spam from Hollywood...as has proved to be the case; you're not the first.

As for the film being not just about me. Well, as the lead actress, Mercy is certainly more about me than it is about you, who had nothing to do with the film but still used the page to spam your own work. There is a fine line between plugging which as artists we all have to do - it's hard work and it's commendable; it's an art which done well should be warm and embracing - and spamming, which is cold, heartless and me me me.

Anyway as I said, I absolutely bear you no ill will for your minor transgression and am going to mention and link to your page in my blog article on "The Fine Art of Plugging" today. I'll even link to your IMDB page. It has a lot more work on it than mine does ;)

(ED: See what I did there? Gracious self-deprecation. An olive branch from the spammed to the spammer.)

Meanwhile on another thread, Jessica is busy zapping more of my posts (see one of them above.)

JUDE CALVERT-TOULMIN: Too late I screenshotted it and am now showing people the screenshot of my now zapped post on your wall. Spamming is not cool.

JESSICA CAMERON: You say spammin. I say sharing. If you don't like it then you certainly do not have to look.

I have not made any generalizations about people - unlike yourself. And by the way - you have just spammed my wall with a project that I am not involved with and I DID NOT INVITE you here...people in glass houses should not throw stones.

I do treat people with respect, which is part of the reason why I get so much work. You should try it and then you would have more important things to do with your time then bother those of us who have work to do. Good luck with your "career" ; )

JUDE CALVERT-TOULMIN: No Jessica, I did not spam your wall, I referred to the film whose page you spammed.

> You should try it and then you would have more important things to do with your time then bother those of us who have work to do.

I'm protecting the page for the film we're promoting from spam, that's the only reason I'm here. As for work, the reason this is the first film I've acted in for many years is, having spent many years as a full time mother raising three children, I'm now a full time author. With fans all over the world for my books. Right now though, I've got my page admin head on and you spammed our page. That's all this is about, don't take it so personally. I'm not, even though you've now resorted to personally insulting me on two threads.

> If I am invited to be a part of any group, closed or open it is because someone wanted me there, and in that case why should I not post a link where people can find out more?

It's the way you did it Jessica. See post above about girl running into birthday party and jumping on table and squealing. Look, let's just leave this, it's silly and has been blown out of all proportion. I've already said I'm going to blog about this and I'm going to give you some industry links, which is pretty gracious considering you're calling me stupid and insulting my career as an author over on the other post.

Learn from this. Next time you go on the wall of a closed group to which you've been invited, then behave yourself. Watch the film clip, think of something positive to say about it, *then* mention your work, preferably after you've chatted to a few people. Just imagine yourself at the Oscars Vanity Fair bash - I didn't see you at the last one but I'm sure you were there - listen more than talking and be interested more than being bored by any conversation that doesn't revolve around yourself.

God I should be in PR.

My P.A. Honey Higginbotham, who normally deals with this kind of thing but is away in Aspen on yet another skiing trip.

***********************************

Within the hour, Jessica removes every trace of our conversations from her fan page, even though the threads are by now attracting hundreds of gawpers from all over the world. (Don’t ask me how I know that.)

I, however, who have been archiving bitch fests and bun fights since the dawn of social networking in 2001, and have written a novel about it, My Adventures in Cyberspace, available on Kindle for 99c, had already copied and pasted it for your entertainment and her further publicity.

Sebastian Lasombra was plugging his work on the Mercy page. Because his music features in the film. You can hear his music for Mercy here.

Filmmaker Eve Wood was plugging her film The Beat is The Law, featuring Pulp and Jarvis Cocker, on the page of (the British, original and only) The Office, because viewers of the Office will love her film, so it’s appropriate.

I am plugging the cult underground short film Johnny YesNo I had the lead role in back in 1979 because not only did it partly inspire Lynch's Mulholland Drive, it has just been remastered and released on DVD.

Another pic of me performing, because it's my blog. (here being applauded by George Newton, one of Shane Meadows' regular actors.)

NORTHERN LIGHTS NOVEMBER: JOHNNY DAWES "FULL OF MYSELF"

2011-10-27T16:29:00.001+01:00

If you are a rock climber, you will have heard of Johnny Dawes. He is an absolute legend in rock climbing, one of the most gifted climbers the world has ever seen and one of the few people I've ever met whom I consider to be a genius. And now he's written it all down in his brand, spanking new autobiography. This isn't some ghost-written celeb whitewash job. Johnny is an astonishingly talented wri...ter, and for that reason...(drumroll and ecstatic applause)...

Northern Lights is truly honoured to be welcoming Johnny to the November event where he will be reading from and talking about his autobiography FULL OF MYSELF at 19.30hrs on Tuesday 8th November, followed at 21.30hrs by open mic spoken word.

Johnny will also be signing copies of his book which you can purchase here:

http://www.johnnydawes.com/buy-stuff/full-of-myself/

This is what Leo Houlding has to say about FULL OF MYSELF:

'This long awaited book gives his take on a highly influential period of climbing history and a look inside the mind of a tormented genius. Written with devoted passion and brutal honesty Full of Myself lays bare Johnny's bipolar mix of privilege and pain, wizardry and disfunction.' Leo Houlding

(You don't know who Leo is? Maybe you remember him from Top Gear racing Jezza up the Verdon Gorge...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HdRCoL8LhvM)

Tickets for Northern Lights November are on sale now at £3 from Eventbrite:

http://northernlightsnov11.eventbrite.com/

Due to the expected demand and the limited number of tickets there will be no ticket sales on the door and performers for the second half should book spots in advance by emailing Jude at northernlights.spokenword@gmai l.com. Please note if you don't book your spot in advance you won't get a chance to perform. As always, performers get in free.

Please arrive promptly at 19.30 for the start of the event.

NORTHERN LIGHTS YULETIDE PARTY

2011-09-05T17:07:00.000+01:00

JUST TO LET THOSE OF YOU WHO ATTEND OUR SPOKEN WORD NIGHT IN SHEFFIELD, NORTHERN LIGHTS, WE ARE HOLDING A YULETIDE FANCY DRESS PARTY, UPSTAIRS AT THE RUTLAND ARMS, 86 BROWN ST, SHEFFIELD, S1 2BS ON THE 13TH DECEMBER 2011.
SPOKEN WORD PERFORMANCES WILL BE BETWEEN 7PM AND 8.30PM. PLEASE EMAIL JUDE AT northernlights.spokenword@gmail.com TO BOOK A SPOT.

8.30PM UNTIL LATE THE SOUNDS WILL BE PROVIDED BY DJ LOFTY, ONE OF THE RUTLAND ARMS' REGULAR DJS AND A PARTICULAR FAVOURITE OF OURS DUE TO THE FACT THAT PEOPLE DANCE TO HIS TUNES. LIKE THE PIED PIPER OF HAMLYN.

THERE IS NO ONE PARTICULAR FANCY DRESS THEME ALTHOUGH MASKS AND WIGS ARE A GOOD START...

BOOK EARLY AS TICKETS ARE LIMITED.

WE ARE ALSO FEATURED ON THE NEW SHOUTING OUT SITE WHICH COVERS THE SPOKEN WORD SCENE IN SHEFFIELD.

Mother-in-Law, Son-in-Law now on Kindle only 99cents!

2011-06-13T06:23:00.001+01:00

My novel Mother-in-Law, Son-in-Law is now available to buy on Kindle for only 99cents! (around 82p) You can purchase it at Amazon US, Amazon UK or Amazon DE (Deutschland ie Germany.) If you buy it and enjoy it, please do leave a review on Amazon.

You don't need to actually purchase a Kindle device to read it, you can download a free reading app for your PC, Mac, Blackberry, i Phone, Android or Windows Phone 7 from Amazon here.

We are now in the process of formatting My Adventures in Cyberspace for Kindle, which should be available to purchase late June/July 2011. You can still buy the paperback version on Amazon here.

Several reviewers have mentioned that they would like to see Mother-in-Law, Son-in-Law made into a film. We do want to sell the film rights and once the new paperback revisions are complete, Fleur De Lys will be approaching Nicole Kidman's production company Blossom Films with both titles before approaching anyone else. Here are some testimonials for Mother-in-Law, Son-in-Law...

Testimonials:

Fiona Russell Powell - journalist and former member of legendary 80s band ABC

Love the book! I really enjoyed it and read it cover to cover very quickly. As soon as I started it, I didn't put it down until I'd finished it. Anything published by the author is almost always awful. Thank God this was the exception!

It is notoriously difficult to write about sex well. I don't think there are any other genres within a genre that get awards for bad writing apart from descriptions of sex in books.

I'm amazed that this is a first effort because it is very confidently written. I particularly liked the fact that Calvert-Toulmin didn't succumb to the temptation of punishing the Kate character for being such a brat; the resolving of her situation was both mature and realistic.

An excellent first novel in a genre that is daunting for a first-time author.
Another thing I absolutely adore is the frontispiece ex libris design - it's great! I wish other books did that.

I'm looking forward to reading My Adventures in Cyberspace now.

Ralph Razor - DJ, impresario and style warrior

A kitsch masterpiece.

Amazon UK reviews:

GB Richard - Ireland

One of those books that gets you looking at the receding thickness with disappointment!

hellenlygstad - Norway

Forget Anais Nin - read Jude Calvert-Toulmin!

In addition to writing about sex in a way that makes you want sex, and to read the story over again, this book has got what most other erotic stories lack: a good story and a good storyteller.

Yes, the book is full of sex. Good sex. Delicious sex, even.
You want to read an erotic story? Read this.
You want to read a good story? Read this.

P.Rogers - England

You know those bad sex awards for writers? Well Jude Calvert-Toulmin won't be getting one any time soon. Sex scenes are notoriously difficult to write, but the ones in this novel are detailed, heartfelt and believable. It was a fast read and hard to put down even for someone who doesn't normally read this kind of novel. If you do read this kind of book you will love it.

Brenhines y Cathod - North Wales

What I loved most about MILSIL - apart from a plot with which I could identify (how relationships can become stale over time) - was how believable the characters were.

The book is lots of fun, and like other reviewers have said, I'd like to see it made into a film. A highly believable story, real-life characters, and the sex scenes were very realistic, especially the phone sex chapter which reminded me of my own experiences years ago...

J.Hewitt - Scotland

Really well written and will drive you nuts for sex. If you haven't read a provocative book then you'll be in for a real treat.

Singsing - England

When's the film out? Great fun and would make an excellent holiday book - although read it in trunks on the beach at your peril gentlemen! Ahem...

fanny mae - UK

Fabulous, funny, horny and witty. If ever a book was written to get onto the big screen this is it. It is hot, spicy and erotic and fills a void in contemporary publishing...the literary version of viagra.

eBay record collection ad listing for crap music

2011-05-30T07:18:00.001+01:00

Unfortunately pulled within the last 24 hours, luckily I copied and pasted it before it went, the most hilarious eBay ad I've ever seen. Written by a Rockabilly DJ called Bill Smoker, it was a work of genius:

You are bidding on a collection of 50 (approx) 12" singles and LPs of crap music.

My sister found these in her attic last weekend, where they has been sat gathering dust for the last couple of decades. They used to belong to her ex-husband, who is one of the biggest arseholes ever to draw breath. I never liked the wanker, and based my initial antipathy towards him on his taste in music. Not to put too fine a point on it, he was that most contemptible form of pond life, a Jazz Funker. This meant that as well as shit taste in music, he had appalling taste in clothes too. Pringle jumpers, pleated Farrahs, shoes that looked like pasties, white socks, revolting shirts and a comical wedge-cut hairdon't. Add to this 80s fashion horrorshow a Ford Capri and Super Mario-style moustache underlining his bulbous nose, and you get an object lesson in twatdom. No wonder Northern Soul fans (and everyone else) treated the Jazz Funk fans with sneering comntempt.

I couldn't comprehend what on earth my usually sensible sister could possibly see in the pillock. In vain I pleaded with her to send him packing. My argument that his hankering for Earth Wind & Fire records and attendance at soul weekenders made him a poor choice of mate was waved away as the rantings of a callow youth. She felt my reasoning was unsound.

Reader, she married him.

He made her life miserable for a few years with his moping, moody belligerence (and playing horrendous records like these). He told her lies and generally behaved like a platinum c*nt. Then he dumped her for his mistress when my sister was four months pregnant.

It's now nearly 20 years later and I would still like to take a meat tenderiser to his face. But his most horrendous crime, worse than wiring up my granny's shower so it was electrically live, worse even than his infidelity or the awful way he treated my sister, was the fact that he actually liked the abomination known as Jazz Funk. Here is the evidence. What a bastard.

Well, I suppose I'd better tell you what's for sale, though why you would actually want to own this dreck is beyond me. It's basically music for people who have a deep-seated hatred of music and want to inflict their pain on the world. But here goes nothing.

(lists the singles)

I mean, Shakatak for fucks sake. What a prick. And surely he must have realised that buying anything by Shalimar would open him up to ridicule. Even those bands' mothers couldn't bear to listen to that stuff. I know I couldn't. None of this is play graded, only visually. I just could not bring myself to dirty my stylus with this bollocks.

Boring stuff: - I grade conservatively, particularly when I don't like the records. Don't ask me to split this lot. You buy it, you buy all of it and pay the shipping. I'm not keeping it in my house any longer than strictly neccessary. For the same reason, no returns. I don't want it back. Shipping in UK is £15 because the weight is approx 10kg . I'm willing to ship overseas at cost, but it's likely to be expensive (maybe £45 in europe) and frankly this crap isn't worth the stamps. If you want to collect from Croydon, that's OK but I will look at you with a contemptuous sneer as you stand in my doorway, proving by your purchase that you are tone deaf and tasteless.

Good luck, and God help you for liking this drivel.

Another great Amazon review for My Adventures in Cyberspace

2011-05-04T10:57:00.004+01:00

Another great review for my novel My Adventures in Cyberspace on amazon.co.uk, this one by fannae mae.

`My Adventures in Cyberspace' not only offers the reader an alluring title but slowly, leads them down an emotional rollercoaster. This unusual romance is initiated in cyberspace, however it is only when the writer begins to unveil some incredibly descriptive and painful passages, that the reader can become totally absorbed in this heart rending story. Whether or not this book is autobiographical, I am unsure but my guess is that it would be hard to conjure up such a story without some personal experience.

Dominique's story starts around the time of her parents' divorce. One cannot help but despise Dominique's father who manages to betray every member of her family, culminating in the total destruction of her mother. If this is not painful enough, Dominique is almost taken over the edge, as she then loses her two eldest children and her dogs in the course of her own divorce. The emotional turmoil consumes the reader in almost cinematic detail.

As this is a modern love story, only Cyberspace can introduce her to the man she believes will lead her to happiness. Incredibly, after a thoroughly compelling journey that takes her to the brink of alcoholism and a nervous breakdown, she pulls through and finds the life she has only ever dreamed of, with the lovely Ben. A truly, gritty book from this exciting new author, setting the bench mark for future novels.

The sequel Drowning is currently being edited and will be published by Fleur De Lys and available on Amazon later this year.

My husband, streaking when he was 18

2011-03-03T15:23:00.000Z

By popular demand, the photo of my husband Brian streaking a quarter of a mile round Leezes Terrace in Newcastle during his first year at Uni, aged 18. He won a three pack of Mars Bars for that.

Body Shop Perfume Oil Discontinued: Customers Boycotting Store

2011-01-25T13:38:00.000Z

I found out today that The Body Shop have discontinued their perfume oils. Whoever made this ludicrous decision should be sacked. As one poster, Teri, wrote on Body Shop Employee Favourites:

The perfumed oils were the only item that drew me in to shop at The Body Shop, so I won’t be returning unless the essential oils are brought back.

On just this thread alone, customer after customer is boycotting Body Shop due to their singularly unrobust product range decision to discontinue their perfume oils. I am just one amongst many who will not shop at The Body Shop again until they bring back their oils. Their coconut, satsuma and juma oils are the only reason I ever went into The Body Shop in the first place. I am not alone. Carrie Cox wrote:

It is the only thing I go into your store to buy and usually come out with something else too. Now I have no reason to go to your store.

And Stephanie wrote:

I’m sososososo diasapointed that you discontinued the satsuma body oil why why why.. It goes so well with the body butter and shower gel. I will not be shopping back in this store for that reason.

And from Shelley:

The Body Shop was always known for their perfumed oils. Now that they are gone, to me The Body Shop is no different than any other Bath specialty store. Which then leads me to ask :why bother going to The Body Shop?

Body Shop, over the years you got so many things right. Now, you've got it wrong. This is an indication that there is a weakness in The Body Shop strategy and a clear lack of robust initiative in the company. Very telling. This could be the beginning of the end for them.

My Adventures in Cyberspace Amazon 5 star reviews

2011-01-16T12:58:00.000Z

Above: Me writing my "Diary of the 80s", Queens Park, London, 1984

My Adventures in Cyberspace has now received three 5 star reviews on Amazon. Following are the two most recent reviews, but you can read them all and buy the book here. For those who don't know, My Adventures in Cyberspace is a love story set partly on a fictitious discussion forum, in which Dominique DuBois and Ben Johnson fall in love across a crowded room in cyberspace without knowing what one another look like, long before MySpace, Facebook and Twitter, back in the Wild West days of social networking.

By hellenlyngstad in Norway:

There are three things I demand to call a book good; it must teach me something, make me feel something - and make me ask questions. This is a good book. I'm not a book reporter - I'm a reader, and this is my personal opinion coloured by the fact that I'm a middle-aged woman - but still trying to be as objective as I can after reading this book. The problem is that it's difficult to stay objective this time!

What I first thought was a love story with an original twist I could cuddle up in the sofa with, isn't just that - it's so much, much more that it's difficult to describe. Here are layers and layers, many stories interwoven. Past and present. Not an easy task, but the author solves it brilliantly.

There are so many books - autobiographical and fictitious - where we're told a story about a person's trial, the fight to get through it all, and in the end we're supposed to be impressed with it when it's over, the main character grinning; "Look what I did!". I'm glad the author didn't fall into this trap.

The book goes from the simple where the main character - Dominique - enters a discussion-forum on net. Straightforward. But it doesn't take long before we're brought on a journey in her life, and we follow her through childhood, youth, adult life with lovers, husbands, children - and unhappy love. Behind all this there's a thinker fighting for her life, for love and for peace of mind. She finds this in the end. The author writes about love and betrayal, about friends and "friends", impossible family relations on many levels. Above this is the love story, beautifully described. We follow Dominique and Ben through their first "meeting" on net, all the pain, happiness and obstacles they go through. It's a relief when happiness is finally there in the end, and Dominique and Ben can start their life together.

The author is a great storyteller, she has a "flowery" language - almost cinematic - that enables us to get to know the surroundings and characters really well; what they look like, sound like, feels like, think like, smell like... There are also moments where the degree of recognition makes me gasp, moments when she moves me to tears - she brings us through the whole register of feelings - from pain to happiness. For me, that's the signature of a gifted writer. The highlights for me was the story of having to have an abortion, and when her oldes daughter moved out - so heartbreakingly described that it was painful to read. But don't get the impression that everything is tragic, it's not! Here are moments of irony and a great sense of humour I hope we will see more of in the future.

Am I making a mistake by mentioning the unpopular term feminism here? I don't think so, all middle-aged women "know" we could have come so much further not only if men understood more, but also if only women would stop hurting each other because of envy and frustration in their own lives - this book tells us stories about this many of us can learn from; if we could only treat each other with a little bit more happiness, a little bit more freedom and respect - understanding that another woman's progress isn't preventing our own. The author's description of how devastating imprudent, insensitive words can be, goes straight to my spine - and stays there long after I finished reading the book. She is never moralizing, she's a voice worth listening to. And don't think this is a book only for women - I know a few men that would really learn something from this book!

I'm left with the same feeling I had when I read Marilyn French's "The women's room" many years ago; a strong story of a strong woman that makes me question my own life. It doesn't get any better than that, does it?

By Julie in Lucerne, Switzerland:

About the only time I read fiction anymore is when I'm on holiday. So it was the case that when I'd finished the couple of novels I'd brought along with me for our vacation in Sicily, I began perusing our hotel's collection of paperbacks left behind by other travellers for some new reading material. It was there upon the lobby bookshelf that I found this amazing book, shining with its colourful cover out at me like a jewel amongst the seaweed. After reading the back cover I was intrigued enough to borrow it. After reading this book I left another in its stead at the hotel and brought it home with me in August of 2009. To give it the proper review it deserves, I've just recently read it again.

I've read a ton of worthy tomes in my life, but this was the first one that actually moved me to find the author of "My Adventures in Cyber Space" in cyber space and send her my compliments. It is unusual to find a writer who describes with such an intensity of no holds barred honesty and openness what she has seen in her own life and the lives of those around her, told through the magical lens of fiction but delivered in razor sharp focus. We as human beings are many-faceted creatures, both magnificent and flawed, with a psyche that can at times seem as fragile as a butterfly's wing or strong as a spider's silk. While we all travel different paths through life, what we have in common with others of our species is our experience of joys and sorrows, tragedies and victories, loves and losses. A great writer can describe in a nutshell the full range of human emotions and perceptions in such a way that it finds recognition and inspires something in others, perhaps even conveying a bit of wisdom from life's lessons learned along the way. The book's main character, Dominique DuBois, takes on the gauntlet of human nature with a "pen is mightier than the sword" attitude, a lion's heart and a keen eye.

Here is the story of one woman's life up to a certain point and her struggles to free her spirit from the confines of her circumstances. It is a tale filled to the brim with insights and reflections on the full range of her most intimate, meaningful and personal experiences, the sort of things you might or might not ever tell even your closest friends. This is not a book for the faint-hearted or prudish. The vocabulary ranges from exquisite, poetic prose to serious slang, at times within the same sentence. The big sex scene towards the end is also described in the raw with much love, passion and graphic detail. As I kept reading, I kept thinking about how much courage it requires to write such a book, albeit fiction, for all the world to see. I found the ending to be both graceful and satisfying, a bit like a cosmic cherry on top of a many layered cake, which left me quite looking forward to the next time Jude cooks up a novel for us.

I leave you now with a morsel of a taste of this one, with one of my favourite passages from pages 469-470...

"As we walk over the dunes from the beach-side car park I can see a fantastical sea monster floating in the sky. It must be a hundred feet long. It is a kite, an immense kite. I stand and stare in childlike awe. It is the sails of an invading ship, but floating in the sky. This thing is a work of art, the realization of insight and dreams. It is one of the most stunning creations I have ever seen; it billows, swimming against the tide of the wind with great gaping scarlet jaws and flowing white teeth. It trails orange, red and yellow, fluttering silk tendrils in the wake of its undulating green body. It must have been designed by someone who is in the possession of beautiful madness, for them to create such a beautifully mad, hundred foot sea monster that swims on the wind, harvesting the attention of dumbstruck passers by who stare, like plankton.

As we reach the top of the sand dunes we can see more dunes below us and further, the beach. The kite maker is standing on the sand, looking up at his creation, his hand at right angles to his forehead, shielding his face from the sun, as though he is saluting the wind. He has a long face with a long sharp nose, and dark curly hair which falls in ringlets to his shoulders. The kite is not tethered to the earth by traditional kite line, but by thick ropes, like climbing ropes.

As we descend, the kite maker turns round and looks at me, looks into my eyes. He has big brown eyes and I can see the benign madness in them and I love it; I love the fact that his madness has seeped out from his soul and into his kite and for these brief moments, unfurls itself and sails freely in the sky, billowing and giggling, a brilliant display of tumbling colour, usually quietly folded into his skull, but now unleashed and gloriously dancing in the sky. His madness can finally feel the wind on its face and taste the sea salt on its tongue, as it fills the sky above its father."

The Mystery of The Sax Solo on Gerry Rafferty's Baker Street

2011-01-05T09:40:00.001Z

Gerry Rafferty dies of alcoholism; it's been on the cards for a long time, and of course alcoholism and the ensuing death as a result of is always very sad; the devastation it brings to the loved ones of alcoholics is very sad too only that is too often a private pain.

Banksy's artwork below sums up for me what it's like living with, being related to or loving an alcoholic. I know because I'm there; someone I was once very close to is one and the experience has been such a nightmare that it's inspired several chapters in both my novel My Adventures in Cyberspace and a long section in the sequel to be published in 2011, My Adventures in Cyberspace II.

Elephant in the Room by Banksy

No doubt the Gerry Rafferty Story will soon be turned into a major motion picture as it has all the thrills n spills necessary for a Hollywood blockbuster; the London Underground busker turned famous pop star, the scene in the Tarantino film set to Stealers Wheel's Stuck in The Middle, Gerry's alcoholism leading to his marriage break up and the the intrigue of his 2009 disappearance.

What interests me most, however, is who played the saxophone solo on Baker Street?

From a Google Doc file The History of Top 40 Saxophone Solos I've found this, which sheds some light onto the mystery. It looks like it was not, after all, Raphael Ravenscroft, but instead Al Newman on a Selmer Alto Mark VI circa 1958 SN84452.

Al, if you're still around, get in touch and let's hear your side of the story. Doesn't seem right that you've never had the recognition (nor financial recompense) you deserve.

From: The History of Top 40 Saxophone Solos.

BAKER STREET-GERRY RAFFERTY

RAPHAEL RAVENSCROFT is given credit on the original LP cover
City to City.

And more: The Scotsman Stuck in a Battle with Booze.

Rafferty's perfect pop moment came in 1978 with 'Baker
Street', a song of hoarse sincerity about giving up the booze
and the one-night stands and settling down. It is now a
staple of soft rock stations, where it has the sturdy
inevitability of Christmas or death. Movie director Gus Van
Sant used it for a key scene in Good Will Hunting and the
song was a hit once again in the Nineties when covered by
Undercover. It even featured in an episode of The Simpsons,
with Lisa playing it on her saxophone. Yet until Raphael
Ravenscroft overlaid a glistening saxophone solo, it was
destined to be just another folky tune. Ravenscroft's name
doesn't appear on the writing credits – allowing the NME to
start up an urban myth that bespectacled former Blockbusters
presenter Bob Holness had performed the sax solo. Rafferty
maintains that he wrote the hook, and claims he intended to
sing the refrain at first. Ravenscroft disagrees, saying he
was presented with a song that contained "several gaps".

"In fact, most of what I played was an old blues riff," says
the sax musician. "If you're asking me: 'Did Gerry hand me a
piece of music to play?' then no, he didn't." Ravenscroft's
fee was a cheque for £27, which he says bounced anyway and is
now framed and hangs on his solicitor's wall. Rafferty has
not attempted to make further payment, and Ravenscroft has
chosen not to pursue the matter of a song that guarantees
Rafferty a yearly income of £80,000. Since the song thrust
Rafferty into a spotlight that has made him deeply
uncomfortable ever since, maybe Ravenscroft is right to
regard the riches of 'Baker Street' as tainted money: "If I
had received pots of money, I wouldn't have known what to
do," he remarked recently. "It might have destroyed me."

The following quote was found on Sax on the Web;

“The Sax AL NEWMAN used is a Selmer Alto Mark VI circa 1958
SN84452. In the docs Al supplied to Howarths of London he
writes: "The last recording session I played it on prior to
leaving for America in late 1977 was at a recording studio in
Rodmarton Street, near Baker Street W1 where was required to
perform an Alto Sax solo and had to sign a release form. I

later found out that this track was Baker Street by Jerry
Rafferty and that credit for the Sax solo was first taken by
the producer of the track and later falsely by Raf
Ravenscroft who certainly did not play on that track - which
in actual fact I did!!!"

The Scene in Quentin Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs set to Stealer's Wheel's Stuck in The Middle.

We're both amongst that rare breed of people who've been buskers on the London tube, and this song is why, despite the problems of the man, I have always loved Gerry Rafferty's music.

2010 - The Year Self-Publishing Lost Its Stigma

2011-01-02T15:40:00.000Z

Jude Calvert-Toulmin performing the explicit poem "She Wouldn't Be So Vain" at Speakeasy, Sheffield, 2010

I'm going to repeat here the verbal thrashing for daring to publish my own work I got from a woman a couple of years ago on Sheffield Forum who claimed to have been "in publishing" for a quarter of a century, and who claimed, whilst hiding behind the barricade of anonymity, to know me in real life (she doesn't.) It's on page 5 of the Fleur De Lys Publishing Megathread here if you can be arsed to read it. This is the kind of patronising bollocks that hopefully will now look even more ridiculous than it did to me two years ago.

She said of me "... it's clear to me that she's bought into a lot of the myths about publishing which proliferate on the internet, and I'm concerned that she's going to come a cropper as a result." She went on to say "And I have to ask: if your writing is so good that a couple of decent literary agents have called it "brilliant", why did you decide to take this route into print?... you're establishing yourself as "not suitable for mainstream", which is going to make that crossover so much harder for you now; and (perhaps most importantly) while you're out promoting this book, who is writing the next one? "

I declined to rise to the bait at the time as I grew out of arguing with anonymous forum posters years ago, but the answer is, "Me, actually, you sneering cow. I wrote the next one and published it and am just about to finish the third, which my company will publish later this year." Anyway, her passive agressive faux concern borne out of jealousy is going straight in a chapter I'm about to write for My Adventures in Cyberspace II.

Take that, bitch.

2010 - The Year Self-Publishing Lost Its Stigma

She Wouldn't Be So Vain As To Think This Poem Is About Her But It Is

from jude calvert-toulmin on Vimeo.

A Heroine For The Internet Age - Review of My Adventures in Cyberspace

2010-12-26T09:01:00.001Z

Writer Ben Emlyn-Jones has reviewed my novel My Adventures in Cyberspace on his HPANWO blog. The full review is below.

By Ben Emlyn-Jones.

As a writer I often become acquainted with other writers when we are drawn together by our mutual profession. I make an effort to read the books by people I know and if I think they’re up to standard I review them on HPANWO. My Adventures in Cyberspace by Jude Calvert-Toulmin is one such title. Like I did, she's taken the courageous and creative step of self-publishing her literature.

My Adventures in Cyberspace is a very absorbing and poignant saga following about a year in the life of a Sheffield housewife called Dominique Du Bois (Du Bois means “wooden” in French, but she is nothing of the sort!); it is semi-autobiographical, as the author admits in her bio, and very candid and honest. It's thoroughly analytical of the character's own psychological landscape and describes her highs and lows with imaginative and perceptive metaphors and similes (You'll never look at an elastic band in the same way again!). Dominique is in an unfulfilling marriage and generally stuck in a rut with her life until she discovers the fun and frolics of Internet forums. There she quickly makes friends... and enemies; the latter is inevitable because the Net is a paradise for bullies and sadists who can snipe and gripe while cowering behind the impunity of a keyboard and monitor. However one poster comes to her rescue, a rock-climbing Yorkshireman by the username of "Ben J". Slowly and graciously Dominique and he fall in love, without even having met. "Ben J", or Ben Johnson to use his real name, is also unhappily married and both he and Dominique have to disengage themselves from their current situations in order to become a couple. This causes heartrending mayhem as, not just Ben and Dominique's current spouses, but their "friends", relations, acquaintances and hangers-on desperately try to hold them apart with envy, possessiveness and spite. On top of all this Dominique is haunted by memories of her past, her mentally-ill mother, her vindictive stepmother and her estranged adolescent daughters. But despite all of this she and Ben persevere in their relationship, spending romantic and stylishly-pornographic weekends away together, looking forward to the day when they can live as a couple, in peace and happiness. By the end of the book I was yelling out in support for them, highly emotionally-involved in their plight. Dominique is a real heroine for the Internet Age and somebody many readers will identify with, whether you're male or female. This is only the first part in a trilogy and it ends with the main character experiencing a spiritual revelation, just at the brink of her success. They've made it, but have they? I'm looking forward to Part 2!

One of the aspects I liked most about this story is the way the central male character, Ben, is portrayed. We live in a world governed by the Conformist mind-controlling media, of which regular HPANWO-readers will have seen me discuss many times. I’ve spoken of my concerns that the male psyche is being manipulated and engineered by programmes such as EastEnders, Hustle and various Reality TV shows. See: http://hpanwo.blogspot.com/2008/07/grimlys.html . My Adventures in Cyberspace challenges this Conformist value because unlike so many other male protagonists, who are very ruthless and acquisitive individuals, “Ben J” is described as being very kind and compassionate; “open-hearted” and sometimes “naïve”. Far from being repelled from him, as a Conformist female character would be, Dominique finds these qualities in Ben very appealing. So there’s a subtle but distinctively seditious streak to Jude’s novel which gave me great satisfaction.

Interestingly, like in the book, I only know Jude and her partner Brian through the medium of the Internet. We were all members of the discussion forum of a well-known mainstream journalist. To begin with it was a wonderful forum, one of the best ones I’ve ever been on. Unlike many celebrities, the host used to contribute to the forum himself and we all became friends. Sadly the host made a rather bad choice of member to administer the forum and pretty soon this administrator began dishing out wildcat bannings based on the flimsiest of excuses or as a result of private disputes. Jude and Brian were part of this purge. I left the forum soon afterwards in protest. I went back to lurk a few times and saw that the place had been totally ruined; its spirit of interest and openness gone forever. A good forum is a very fragile thing and can fail so easily therefore I make a lot of effort to be a fair moderator of the HPANWO Forum. Like Jude and her character Dominique, I’ve been on the receiving end of Internet bullying and stalking; it’s not pleasant. However, as I say in this review, my contempt for Internet bullies adds to my determination not to give in to them. Something else I share in common with Dominique.

NORTHERN LIGHTS - Sheffield's New Spoken Word Night

2010-10-27T10:54:00.001+01:00

Above: The Rutland Arms

There will be a new spoken word night in Sheffield on the second Tuesday of every month, launching on Tuesday 8th February 2011, called Northern Lights. It will take place upstairs at The Rutland Arms, 86 Brown St, Sheffield, S1 2BS.

Northern Lights will follow in the tradition of Lenny Bruce, where there are no boundaries, taboos or cliques and subversive is normal. Although Lenny Bruce was the godfather of modern stand up, Northern Lights is not a stand up comedy night; it is a spoken word night with the words taking any form and aims to follow in the tradition of Lenny Bruce.

"Lenny Bruce's legacy is freedom of speech and telling it as it is, getting your life and putting it out on the table, telling everyone about it." Eddie Izzard, talking about the BBC2 documentary "Lenny Bruce is Dead."

Above - The Rutland Arms. Street art by Phlegm

Here's some Lenny Bruce quotes:

You can't put tits and ass on the marquee! Why not? Because it's dirty and vulgar, that's why not! Titties are dirty and vulgar? Okay, we'll compromise. How about Latin? Gluteus maximus, pectoralis majors. Clean to you, schmuck, but dirty to the Latins! Nightly. That's alright, that's clean, class with ass, I'll buy it.

When you're eight years old nothing is your business.

If something about the human body disgusts you, the fault lies with the manufacturer.

Satire is tragedy plus time. You give it enough time, the public, the reviewers will allow you to satirize it. Which is rather ridiculous, when you think about it.

I hate small towns because once you've seen the cannon in the park there's nothing else to do.

If you can take the hot lead enema, then you can cast the first stone.

The only honest art form is laughter, comedy. You can't fake it... try to fake three laughs in an hour - ha ha ha ha ha - they'll take you away, man. You can't.

A lot of people say to me, 'Why did you kill Christ?' I dunno, it was one of those parties, got out of hand, you know.

The "what should be" never did exist, but people keep trying to live up to it. There is no "what should be," there is only what is.

Northern Lights launches on Tuesday February 8th 2011. Join the fanpage below to be updated with news, photos and videos and talk to other like-minded writers. email nothernlights.spokenword@gmail.com to book a spot on the launch night.

Facebook Fan Page Launch Saturday 16th October

2010-10-13T17:17:00.000+01:00

Below: The Love Shack

On Saturday 16th October I'll be officially launching my Facebook fan page with a new video of me reading my short story The Lingerie Shop to camera. I'll be filming it in The Love Shack, above, which is in the Fleur De Lys HQ gardens and is where I write in warm weather. The piece will be the first in a series of readings to camera entitled "Tales From The Love Shack." All of these will be exclusive to members of the fan page.

I orginally wrote The Lingerie Shop as my entry for the Woodseats Literary Festival, part of the Woodseats Community Festival in Sheffield. Unfortunately as I was on my honeymoon I was unable to participate this year, and so far The Lingerie Shop has not had a public outing. However I feel it deserves one. This video will be exclusive to "fans" of the page; you can click like below. Fans will also be able to download the story as a google word doc.

Jude Calvert-Toulmin Facebook Fan Page

2010-10-05T09:15:00.003+01:00

Facebook Fan Page welcome video from jude calvert-toulmin on Vimeo.

You think I'm full of myself? Think again. I'm one of the most insecure people I've ever known, which goes a long way to explaining why I've held off for so long setting up my own fan page (or like page) on Facebook. If I can look up to and admire someone else rather than promote myself, I will, because I find promoting myself excrutiatingly embarrassing, fearing that it will attract hoardes of people *out there* all pointing their fingers at me and laughing "Who does she think she is?"

This is actually the perennial stumbling block of the inexperienced artist who cannot afford a PR company and is forced to market themselves. You have to get over that "They'll all laugh at me" bollocks and just go out there and promote yourself and your work, otherwise the only people who will know about what you're doing are your small inner circle of doting mates. And that's no good if you're serious about your art.

As of its second day, my facebook fan page has got 53 fans, and it's really tempting to think they all love me, when of course all it really means is they respect the brand.

OK maybe one or two of them love me.

Jude Calvert-Toulmin, Jack Clayton from Jack and the Beanstalks at Speakeasy, Sheffield

2010-09-29T12:51:00.007+01:00

"I started doing this through sheer hatred" - Jack Clayton

Above: Jude Calvert-Toulmin at Speakeasy, Sheffield, 2010

Since the sad demise of what was Sheffield's premiere spoken word night in Sheffield, Words Aloud at The Lescar, senior lecturer in English at SHU (Sheffield Hallam University) John Turner, who is an established and respected poet and seasoned performer in his own right, has been running the spoken word night Speakeasy in Sheffield for over a year now, and every month it becomes more and more popular.

Jude Calvert-Toulmin - My Adventures in Cyberspace II from jude calvert-toulmin on Vimeo

Last night I performed an excerpt from my nearly completed third novel, My Adventures In Cyberspace II (above) and Jack Clayton, frontman for one of the most brilliant bands I've seen for years, Jack and the Beanstalks, performed some of his lyrics for the first time in spoken word form; he was stunning.

Jack told me last night about his songwriting and performing with bands "I started doing this through sheer hatred."

Look out for an interview with the band soon...

http://www.myspace.com/jackthebeanstalksband

Jack Clayton performing at Speakeasy, Sheffield from jude calvert-toulmin on Vimeo

Jack and the Beanstalks - I've got a Reaction from jude calvert-toulmin on Vimeo

Jack and the Beanstalks live at Soyo, Sheffield, September 2010. ©Jude Calvert-Toulmin

Jack and the Beanstalks, Odeon underpass, Sheffield, August 2010. ©Jude Calvert-Toulmin

Jack Clayton outside The Washy, Sheffield, August 2010. ©Jude Calvert-Toulmin

The Fex Wagner Guide To Picking Liberty Cap Magic Mushrooms

2010-09-28T08:34:00.002+01:00

Fex and his Pinzgauer © Jude Calvert-Toulmin

Watch video here

Hopefully this short entertaining guide to picking magic mushroooms will stop a few people having poorly tummies this autumn. As Fex explains, picking magic mushrooms, or Liberty Caps to call them by their proper name, is illegal in Britain. Ridiculous when the government makes billions of pounds in tax from the two drugs that kill more British citizens than any other, cigarettes and alcohol.

And if you're not interested in mushrooms, girls, you can just drool over Fex who is top nature boy presenter totty with a genuine ooo-arrrrr accent from English cider country.

Fex Projects

The Wings Of Love by Stephen Pearson

2010-09-15T14:26:00.003+01:00

Stephen Pearson sadly died in 2003, otherwise I'd have liked to have interviewed him. Here on his nephew Barry's website are more of Stephen's quite brilliant fantasy paintings; way ahead of their time.

This is one of my favourite paintings, The Wings of Love, the ubiquitous 1970s bedroom poster based on an oil by Stephen Pearson. The subject matter seems to me to be about sex and orgasmic ecstasy. The woman, naked, sits, bathed in a warm glow which surrounds her alone, as if coming from within her, though the scene as a whole is lit by a full moon not only representing romance but also tides and the the menstrual monthly cycle.

The swan's beating wings allude to the rhythm of sex, and to the beating of their two hearts, whilst the taut and straining neck of the bird is obviously a phallic device, representing an erect penis on the brink of orgasm, the male orgasm being represented by the pearlescent tide which rapidly advances towards the woman.

The man stands on the tip of the wing, indicating that he is on the very brink of orgasm, and is not looking at the woman, but at the tide (of his semen), alluding to the way in which one becomes oblivious to one's surroundings at the point of orgasm, the surge of the orgasm swamping all other senses.

It's a shame that this painting has been denigrated as being bad taste kitsch, when it's actually a serious comment on sexuality, delivered in a subtle manner suitable for acceptance in what now seems like a very unliberated and staid 1970s.

Finestrat's famous pie, Coca Xira, or Coca Girada.

2010-05-25T11:49:00.004+01:00

Self-portrait of me on my honeymoon. Thanks to Sam and Richard Mayfield of The Orange House climbing and holiday centre for organising our honeymoon wedding present of 2 weeks in Finestrat!

My husband and I have just returned from our honeymoon in the tiny mountain village of Finestrat on the Costa Blanca in Spain.

The last visit 4 years ago was a fleeting day visit, but this time we were lucky enough, thanks to our wedding guests, to be staying for 2 weeks, smack in the middle of the historic old village in a 19th century townhouse. And right round the corner from us was the local bakery, run by a lovely couple, Vincente and Vincenta, who bake all their own produce on the premises.

On my first visit I bought traditional Mallorcan ensaimadas and some bread. The ensaimadas were to die for, and we returned the next day whereupon Vincenta pointed out to me some sumptious looking pies called Coca Xiras, telling me they were a local Finestrat speciality.

I can't describe how wonderful are these pies - somewhere between a quiche and a folded Calzone pizza yet nothing like either. After eating the entire pie between us for lunch one day, on my next visit I asked Vincenta how they were made and she told me the basic ingredients, and mentioned the pressing down of the dough onto the filling, and the use of hot water.

After returning to England and a couple of failed experiments, I finally nailed it, and the recipe I came up with is below. It is not as wonderful as Vincente and Vincenta's Coca Xira, for that you will have to travel to Finestrat on a Friday or Saturday before 1pm and pay them a visit. They will be retiring in March 2011 so get there before then! You can find them on Google Maps by typing in forn alt finestrat.

There's a once an hour 35a or 35b bus from the Hotel Bali near Benidorm, or from the main bus stop in La Cala, direct up to Finestrat so it's well worth a visit, or ten to fifteen minutes drive from the coast if you're in car or cab.

Above, back in England, my Coca Xira, as accurate as I could get!

Valenciano name: Coca Xira
Spanish name: Coca Girada
English name: Finestrat pie

Dough:

(This quantity of dough will line and cover a 20cm tin with some left over so could be used for a larger tin.)

2 cups flour
6 fl oz water just taken off the boil (add more water if necessary)
¼ cup good quality olive oil
large pinch salt

Filling:

(This quantity will be enough for about two pies.)

Any combination of ingredients can be added to a basic fried onion base. This is what I used:

1 large onion chopped finely
1 red pepper deseeded and chopped finely
3 cloves peeled garlic
1 small tin anchovies, drained of oil
50g finely grated parmesan
380g tin spinach drained, squeezed dry in seive
1 tin octopus tentacles in oil, drained
50g chopped chorizo
salt and freshly ground pepper to taste.

Oven Preparation:

Put the oven on hot, gas mark 7, with a pizza stone on the middle shelf, for 20 minutes before you plan to bake the pie.

Method for dough:

Rub oil into flour
Add salt
Add very hot water and knead five minutes until you have a smooth dough.
Put into oiled zip lock bag in fridge if you need to store it, but dough is fine if used immediately.

Method for filling:

Fry onion, pepper and garlic until onion is soft and transparent and pepper soft.
Tip into bowl, add rest of ingredients and mix together.

Assembly:

Mix 2 tablespoons olive oil with 1 teaspoon tablespoon Spanish smoked paprika to make baste. Use ordinary paprika if you have no choice, but it is best with Spanish smoked paprika which you can buy online.

Paint the oil and paprika mix over inside of a shallow tin with a pastry brush. I've been using a thick aluminium tin but Vincente and Vincenta bake it in a foil tin for sale in their bakery so a foil tin is fine too.

Roll pastry thinly, 2-3mm, and cut a circle big enough to line the tin, go up the sides and leave a 1cm overhang to be folded over when pie is asssembled.

Add enough filling to come just under the top of the tin and press down.

Cut a thicker (5-7mm) circle of pastry to fit on top of the pie covering the filling but inside the thin pastry lining which you're going to fold over the top of the thicker top circle.

Paint the outside top of the pastry with water to help the folded over lining stick.

Place the top circle of pastry onto the filling and press down on the filling.

Roll the overhanging lining pastry onto the thick topping pastry and crimp with fingers all the way round, making sure there are no gaps and the pastry is sticking, much as you would finish off a Cornish Pasty.

Prick pastry all over the top with a fork and press down with hands so that the filling inside meets the pastry on top.

Baste with the olive oil/smoked paprika mix.

Put the pie tin into the oven on the pizza stone and bake for 20 minutes then remove, prick again to release steam, press down all over with a wooden spatula to remove more steam, baste again with oil/paprika mix, then put back for another 10 minutes. Remove and repeat basting and repricking process then finish off baking for another 5 minutes.

The finished pie should be darkish, looking almost slightly burnt as in the photos.

Serve warm or cold cut into wedges either on its own as a picnic item or with a simple tomato and lettuce salad dressed with a sprinkling of olive oil and lemon juice.

Some more photos from Finestrat...I'll put a link to an online gallery once I've sorted through all the pics I took.

Bread from Vincente and Vincenta's bakery, served with barbequed squid and red pepper, and a simple tomato and lettuce salad on our roof terrace. With this view...

Climbers will recognise many of the classic lines up the mountain (The Puig Campana) which Brian loved to follow through his binoculors, having climbed the Vía espolón central himself 4 years ago.

Sensoria Festival of Film and Music 2010

2010-04-24T15:01:00.005+01:00

Above, still from Johnny YesNo, a cult short in which I starred 30 years ago, and which I believe partly inspired David Lynch's 1991 Mulholland Drive.

This week sees the third Sensoria festival of film and music in Sheffield, fast becoming a centre for all things film what with hosting the Sheffield International Documentary Film Festival and being the home of Warp Films. Yes, I know a few of you Londoners are still under the impression that life begins and end in London, well you may have Soho, Patisserie Valerie, Borowicks Fabrics and The Crown and Two Chairmen pub, but you've got a long walk to find any decent crags for climbing, luvvies. Sorry, make that a long car journey, stuck on the M25 for hours with other snarled up road ragers. Sigh, I remember during my ten years in London in the 80s thinking "Why don't people who live in those silly little places outside London just put themselves out of their misery?" Quaint, huh? :)

Anyway where was I. Oh yes, Sensoria. Well, last night saw the second only ever screening of a short film in which I starred as a young lass, Johnny YesNo. After JY, I went on to earn my Equity card singing and playing my guitar in bars and what were then called mental asylums. I was a busker on the London underground, a geisha girl in a Japanese nightclub in Mayfair, and an extra on a few TV programmes ( I soon got tired of TV directors and producers treating me like a bit of fluff and getting all stroppy and disgruntled when they found out I wasn't prepared to shag them to further my "career" so my TV work didn't last long.)

I also acted in a few Royal College of Art student films to help out my mates, which were all good experiences, but I finally knocked acting in the head, became a photo-journalist for the music press, raised a family and then became the managing director of a publishing company and an author, so no-one gets to treat me like shit just coz they didn't get a shag out of me. Instead, I get to write about them, and it pays my bills. OK I haven't turned the TV producer into a character for any of my books yet, but it's on the cards for the next book but one. Just banked a cheque from the Bank of America yesterday for my recent American book sales, in fact. Sweet.

Johnny YesNo director Pete Care portrait of me subsequent to the film. I don't have any production stills from Johnny YesNo but will post when any become available.

I was planning to do a filmed interview about Johnny YesNo whilst actually at Sensoria, but only got as far as a dress rehearsal just before we went for our bus (see vid below. It contains a factual inaccuracy, I thought JY had been screened nationally as a B movie. It was only screened once, in Sheffield, at the old Cineplex cinema. The bit about the actor sticking his tongue down my throat during the kissing scene holds though.)

Interview with Jude Calvert-Toulmin about Johnny YesNo from jude calvert-toulmin on Vimeo.

The reason I didn't get round to doing a filmed interview whilst at The Showroom is I got sidetracked, wanting instead to film a live set by Smokey Angle Shades, a band I'd seen performing in the wonderful Strummerville earlier on that evening (I was also very impressed by The Riff Raff and Dekay performing in Strummerville.) The result is below, three numbers from the Smokey Angle Shades set. This band are magical and the real deal. No artifice, no pretence, no bluffing, bullshitting, ego, posturing or vanity. Just talent, raw passion and energy.

My kind of artists.

Smokey Angle Shades Sensoria 2010 from jude calvert-toulmin on Vimeo.

Recipe for Brian's Brown Sauce

2010-04-12T16:34:00.002+01:00

I think this is the longest I have ever gone without posting on the blog since I started it 4 years ago in 2006. Real life has intervened and I've been occupied with more important things than blogging (yes, there is life beyond writing a blog, indeed writing anything. It is the life that leads to the writing, after all.)

So here are some photos of the love shack Brian and I have built on our decking, followed by the much requested recipe for the most gorgeous, fragrant and sticky sauce - Brian's own recipe for that quintessential of traditional British condiments, brown sauce.

The love shack sign, by the way, is made from part of an oak beam from the long demolished 500 year old manor house near us. The 1930s stained glass panels are from a local reclamation yard.

The love shack is totally private, so suitable for lerv. Yeah baby.

Brian's Brown Sauce

A traditional British condiment for meat on barbies, chip butties (chip sandwiches) and fish and chips. Also fish finger sandwiches.

Ingredients:
1 pint malt vinegar
1 x 500gm jar passata
2 tablespoons black treacle
50gm stoned dates
125gm muscovado sugar
1 tsp salt
2 tablespoons soy sauce
3 tablespoons cornflour
1 small onion
1 teaspoon mace
2 teaspoons ground black pepper
½ teaspoon allspice
3 cloves garlic
1 teaspoon tamarind extract
1 x 500gm jar apple sauce or apple puree (in Britain this is unsweetened.)

Method:

1.    Put vinegar, passata, apple puree, sugar and treacle into a pan. Stir to dissolve. Bring to boil
2.    Put all other ingredients into blender. Add some liquid from the pan. Blend until smooth. Add to pan.
3.    Cook until thick.
4.    Taste and adjust salt content / sweetness (glucose syrup) / spiciness (you could add chilli, ground cloves or ground black cardamom.)
5.    When it tastes good, bottle in hot dry bottles or jars (sterilised in the oven.)

Sade limited edition prints.

2010-03-05T11:51:00.008Z

Above: Sade and the Tiger © Jude Calvert-Toulmin

The photographs of Sade I took back in 1982, before she found international fame and was just one of my mates on the London music scene are now available to purchase online as signed prints from a limited edition of 50 from Fleur De Lys Publishing Ltd here.

My Sade prints were exhibited at the prestigious Mall Galleries in London during the summer of 2009 as part of Royal Society of British Sculptors member Guy Portelli's Pop Icons exhibition. The exhibition, with my photographs, is now on tour nationally with the possibility of a future global tour.

The exhibition was a huge success; you can see some shots of the preparation and the private views here and read an interview with Guy prior to the Mall Galleries exhibition.

As fans of Sade know, Sade is not just a singer but a band comprising sax player and co-songwriter Stuart Matthewman, bassist Paul Denman and keyboard player Andrew Hale. You can read more about my times hanging around with the band in the early 80s in a couple of blog articles I wrote in 2006. Turn of the 80s - The Hull Connection: Sade and Turn of the 80s - The Clubbing Connection.

This article which contains some of my original photos, has consistently proved to be one of my most popular articles and still gets regular readers from all over the world.

Above: Sade and the Audience © Jude Calvert-Toulmin

Sade's new 2010 album Soldier of Love has quite deservedly topped the US and European charts and she remains the elegant enigma she has always been; a true British icon.

Above: Sade and the Alligator © Jude Calvert-Toulmin

Le Donk & Scor-Zay-Zee Q & A, Sheffield, October 2009

2010-03-02T14:15:00.003Z

Apologies to my regular readers for not blogging for a few weeks, but I've been decorating our bedroom pistachio and gold, a job that really needed doing (pics to follow at some point) and resuming writing on the sequel to My Adventures in Cyberspace, which is provisionally entitled My Adventures in Cyberspace II. Nearly there, ready to hand over to my editor before our honeymoon in May.

He won't be editing on our honeymoon. Or climbing mountains. He'll be paying attention to me! :)

Besides decorating and writing, I've also finally posted on my vimeo channel the Q & A I shot back in October at the Sheffield Showroom with film director Shane Meadows, Warp producer Mark Herbert and actor/writer/director Paddy Considine promoting Le Donk & Scor-Zay-Zee which you can buy on DVD here. It's one of my favourite films, up there with Spinal Tap and well worth having in your DVD collection.

The direct link to the vimeo of the Q & A is here. As you can see from the screenshot below (click to enlarge) a few weeks ago my video was featured on the homepage of Shane's site, which brought me overwhelming pride and joy because I believe that Shane Meadows is the greatest director alive today.

Homepage of Shane Meadows' site at www.shanemeadows.co.uk

Here is the vimeo for those who can't be arsed clicking over to my vimeo channel. With an introduction by me like I'm presenting The Culture Show or something, but really I'm at home on my office webcam.

Le_Donk_QA_Sheff from jude calvert-toulmin on Vimeo.

Farmville by Zynga - don't diss it till you've tried it. In fact, don't diss it or else...

2010-02-09T16:30:00.009Z

NB: Click to enlarge all pics.
If you decide to play after reading this - as many people on facebook are doing already - Zynga, a free waterfall in my gift box will do as thanks ;) - then I'd advise adjusting your facebook application settings first so you don't annoy all your non-Farmville playing friends with constant updates in their news feed. Scroll to the bottom of this article for how to do this.

Above: Close up of my farm, February 2010

Unless you've been living on the moon you'll have heard about Farmville by now, the fastest growing social game of all time. From plugged in blog:

The number of people who play FarmVille is still growing. Let’s put it this way: More people play FarmVille than watch Oprah. Players have generated more than 40 million farms (20 times more than the actual number of farms in the United States), own more than 500,000 tractors, and conduct more than 80 million harvests each day. So far, $321,000 in real cash has been raised for charity through the selling of an exclusive kind of sweet potato in the game. FarmVille supplements its free-to-play model by letting players purchase special items in exchange for real-world currency.

Above: Close up of my farm, February 2010

I don't watch soaps or crap TV, I never ever watch daytime TV and I have very little free time, so one of my few off duty activities is Farmville. I started playing in August 2009 out of sheer curiosity as to what this game was that everyone was banging on about.

Above, click for full size. My farm 7th February 2010.

I've always loved cartoons, especially Disneyesque cartoons, and the styling of the imagery in Farmville is very Disney. The father of my best friend on our street in rural Devon when I was little owned a Jersey cattle farm and some of my happiest memories as a child are being with their family on his farm, holding new born calves, smelling the smells of animals and crops and damp hay. I'm also pretty passionate about cooking and growing things.

I was hooked immediately.

My farm a couple of days after I started playing. I'm growing rice there.

My husband's galaxy spiral themed forest farm with no crops, just trees.

One thing I really like about Farmville is its scope for creativity. Some of the farms on the Zynga forums are an incredible statement of personal expression and passion, right across all social and age demographics. Here's a few from the Zynga website, on the Farmville landscaping Show off your pretty farms thread:

Above, farm by aufstehn

Above, farm by Shermvlieger

Above, farm by edidas

Above, farm by expect nothing

Above, farm by hung ngo

Above, farm by JHEN17

Above, farm by Joe C

Above, farm by maggie40

Above, close up of farm by proudjagwife

Above, farm by Charlotte aux Poires

Above, farm by rbird77

Above, farm by in2nation

Above, farm by yabro

Above, farm by zpahd

The game is free and you can play it either through facebook or directly through the farmville site. My only advice would be to strictly allocate the time you spend playing the game, because you get so lost in this pretend world you can lose track of reality. I allocate out of work hours to playing it (no really, I've never been tempted to piss around moving patches of morning glory around when I'm meant to be writing my latest novel, honest guv!) and only play for about half an hour a day (and the rest.) I've always thought the dullest people I've met have been the self obsessed workaholics though. Everyone needs playtime to recharge their batteries and this is a great way to do it.

Above, farm by stephkd celebrating the New Orleans Saints' first ever Super Bowl win at the weekend.

Another nice aspect to Farmville is the social side of it. Amongst my Farmville neighbours, with whom I exchange gifts and whose plots I tend, are the most eclectic bunch of real life contacts one could imagine. One of my best school friends from the 1970s whom I haven't seen for over thirty years. My sister-in-law's brother from Brazil...

My farm 2009

...some of his friends from Brazil. Some of my friends I first met on a rock climbing forum nearly a decade ago. My husband, my son, and one of my daughters. And some of her friends. A photographer with whom I've worked as director of my publishing company. A girl from the Philippines whose farm I once admired on Flickr. A best friend I first met in Spain in the eighties, and her daughter, and her boyfriend. The subject of a documentary I've blogged about on here. A really nice lass I met at the film premiere for My Dangerous Loverboy. An online friend I first met on a forum for business people, another I met on the Digital Spy forums five years ago.

My farm 2009

Where else could I have all those amazingly different people in one place, playing the same game, sending one another Valentine's gifts, horses, nails to build a stable, trees, fences and gnomes?

My only gripe about Farmville, and it's a big one, is that it encourages gambling. There is an item for sale called a mystery box which contains one of several desirable items not available in the Farmville market, items such as waterfalls, koi ponds and porcupines.

What you get in the box is random and you may end up buying 15 boxes and still not get the item you desire. There's no facility to gift unwanted items to friends, and no memory for which items you've already recieved to avoid duplication. You have to buy these mystery boxes with Farmville experience points, which take a long time to save up, or you can buy with real cash, working out at approximately 3 bucks each or a couple of quid.

Nothing wrong with spending real cash on a game, after all the game is provided by a business who have costs to meet. But I've seen users spending £20-£30 to get that one item from a mystery box, and some of these users are under 18. Now, in anyone's eyes, this is wrong, encouraging under 18s to gamble. I wish Zynga would clean up their act and get rid of these mystery boxes and put all items in the Farmville market.

Apart from this gripe, I love the game and as long as the Zynga heavies don't come round my farm to punish me for criticising them so I wake up to this tomorrow morning, I will carry on playing:

"Don't diss our gambling racket, OK little miss?" *

*Please note this is fictional and Zynga didn't really decapitate one of my horses.

Instructions for the Feb 2010 Facebook layout - How to change your application settings to stop automatic Farmville updates:

On the top toolbar of your facebook page, click account and click the drop down arrow on the right then select application settings, then find Farmville in the list and select edit settings then select additional permissions and deselect "publish recent activity (one line stories) to my wall", otherwise your non-Farmville playing Facebook friends will quickly get fed up with seeing your every move on Farmville in their news feed.

Interview with Al DuVernay of The Age of Stupid.

2010-01-29T16:29:00.005Z

On watching Alvin DuVernay in the documentary The Age of Stupid, I realised that this was an exceptional human being whose voice should be heard. And my gut instinct kept telling me "This man can write." My gut instinct was correct as I saw when he sent me his account of what happened when Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans in 2005. Subsequently I interviewed him, below. Not many men can charm a jaded cynic like me, but Al managed to. What a guy.

In the documentary "The Making of The Age of Stupid", director Franny Armstrong and co-producer Lizzie Gillett expressed worry about your taking part in the documentary due to the possible negative psychological effect of making you relive your experiences. Franny agreed, but said you'd be great for the film. In the end you did appear, and the film was titled after one of your quotes.

"In my opinion our use or misuse of resources the last 100 years or so, I'd probably rename that age, something like Th Age of Ignorance, The Age of Stupid."

Indeed, I was being kind by injecting the word "ignorance". That implies that we didn't know any better.

Did appearing cause you psychological trauma as Lizzie had feared?

Quite the contrary. Spending hours in front of a camera was unfamiliar and a bit unnerving for me but expounding at length about my experiences, thoughts and feelings was actually therapeutic. Fran that ruthless... Lizzie was my guardian angel but never mind all that. Unbeknown to me, they both staged a covert rendezvous at a bar (pub) with a local shrink. We all talked and drank and laughed and the diagnosis, still unbeknown to me, was that my psych trauma could only benefit from the probing. And did. I was a mess plagued with sleeplessness, facial tics and periodic tremors (obvious in the film whilst trying to roll a smoke). By the end of the process, I had stopped taking antidepressants, all the physical manifestations had faded, and in general felt humanoid again. Thanks Frannie! Thanks Lizzie!

Or had the fact that you'd previously written about your experiences in Katrina (read here) already exorcised some of the ghosts?

Writing was one of many things that collaborated in my healing - drugs, physical labor, volunteering, friends, family, motorcycle, boat, etc. In retrospect, I can't point at any one thing. As for the ghosts, I fear they will never be exorcised and perhaps never should. The neighbors who died in their attics that I could have saved had I not been so otherwise focused; some of the people in my boat that I was short with and even cruel to because for some reason my compassion and humanity had evaporated for a few dayz. Those regrets will (and should) stay with me forever. Those are teaching ghosts. I shall do better next time because of them.

Why didn't you talk about this in your written piece about Katrina?

Those ghosts and my subsequent meltdown didn't happen until after I wrote that piece I think.

Are you glad you contributed to the film?

Yes. It was a unique experience for me and I made some friendships that will endure. I also think the film has taken on a life of its own and could be a catalyst for positive change. For that I am proud to have made a small contribution.

Have you spoken to any of the people you rescued since?

No I haven't. I find it so bizarre that in four and a half years, in a place as small as New Orleans, that I wouldn't run into at least one of them. My conclusion is that all of our souls and synapses were on overload those dayz and subsequently wouldn't even recognize each other. Having said that, I have the advantage of multiple photo images. I confess that I often look the pics over and spend considerable energy searching for faces in crowds - Jazz Fest, Mardi Gras, grocery stores, nightclubs, etc. I would like to make some contact. Some just to see how they are doing like the gal who went into insulin shock in my boat. Some to caress and offer a mea culpa like the gal I made cry by assuring her that the dog she had left in her home a few blocks away had certainly drowned and we'd have no time to search for the animal. Damn it. I would like to weep with her. I can do that now. No luck yet.

Alvin rescuing Rusty © Chris Graythen Photography

Indeed, have you stayed in touch with any of the people you rescued?

Thanks Jude - I love the closed focus questions. No. I have however, stayed in touch with Chris Graythen. He's the guy that I met the day of the flood. He's a professional photographer and could have been traversing the city capturing award winning images. He chose otherwise and will be forever in my heart for his help.

You say in The Age of Stupid, "A year or so later, after the event, and not a whole lot has changed." What is the atmosphere in New Orleans now? How has "not a whole lot" changed?

At the time, I was referring mostly to the physical and political aspects of the city. Demolition, waste removal, rebuilding and the like was going very slowly. The city stunk and the policy makers couldn't have been more ineffectual. The political posturing and personal agendas was abundantly obvious and obscene. The local, state and federal leaders could not get together on anything and their inability to agree on who was going to do what and how was enormously counterproductive. That was then.

How is the rebuilding of the city progressing?

Since then, the citizens have taken charge. Our city is world famous for its laissez faire attitude. We are called the Big Easy or the City that Care Forgot and other such nick names. Well, once the residents realized that those with the wherewithal for recovery were virtually impotent, i.e., government entities with heavy equipment, manpower, money and other resources, that's when we mobilized at the neighborhood level. Neighborhood associations sprouted up all over town and bulldozed thru the log jams of recovery. Additionally, I've never seen my citizenry more politically engaged. We are quite literally calling our policy makers out. We show up in numbers at council meetings and political rallies. We mobilize call-ins and write-ins to shit-can certain legislations and legislators. I myself write no fewer than three or four letters to editors and politicians per week. The numb-nuts politicians for the first time are looking over their shoulders and it's very exciting.

You've said you're in the process of rebuilding your house.Are you having to rebuild it from the foundations up?

My house soaked for three weeks in that disgusting mess from floor to ceiling. I couldn't see trying to salvage any of it so had it demolished down to and including the foundation. We broke ground on the new construction a month or so ago - yes, foundation up.

Who's designed the new house?

I designed the house and hired a draftsmen and engineer to draw it all up according to local codes and such. It's a simple design very typical to old New Orleans called a raised basement home and suits my simple life style. Basically, you raise the whole thing up about ten feet off the ground, enclose the area underneath and use that for garage, storage, workshop, etc. The old timers new what they were doing by building up high on piers in case of flooding. Imagine that.

Are you doing all the building work yourself?

No, I've hired a professional builder to deal with all the headaches and subcontractors and such. I did all the research on hi-performance and energy efficiency, and simply point the builders in the right direction. My goal is to eventually be energy independent.

Your temporary house, is that the camp you've mentioned?

I'm living in a house that I bought a few months after the storm, not the camp. The intent was for it to be temporary while I rebuild. I did all the renovations and energy efficient upgrades in this temporary house since the storm and that has been good practice. With a few simple upgrades, I've reduced my energy consumption by two thirds. That's the sort of stuff that blows my skirt up. I know. I'm truly a geek. When the new house is complete, I will sell this one and someone is going to get a great deal with all the work I've put into it.

Al and friend Diana Shaw at the camp.

The word camp is a very local reference and has nothing to do with camping. When a South Louisiana person uses it, they mean a permanent structure, a cabin in a remote area usually used for pleasure boating, fishing, and hunting and such. My camp is on Bayou Des Allemands - an ancient crevasse splay/distributary channel of the Mississippi River. There are no roads so access is by boat only - about a half hour truck ride from my house to the launch then twenty minute ride in my boat. A buddy and I hauled everything out there in our little boats and built it in the summer of 1972 with hand tools. Since then the power company ran electricity down the bayou so we are wired and have all the conveniences of home - TV, microwave, A/C, refrigerator, freezer, radio, ceiling fans. We haul propane out there to fire our stove and the water is captured in a cistern with rain run-off from the roof.

Bayou country around here has a very rich history. The Native American Indians built up shell middens on the banks while collecting clams. You can see me in the film walking on one of the middens fingering some of the pottery shards that they left behind so many centuries ago. The bayous were also the highways and hideouts for the pirates that used to do their thing around here.

Al's friend Bruce Gebhart

Is there more of an atmosphere of co-operation and help since Katrina with neighbours and friends who went through the hurricane too?

On a daily basis, cooperation and tolerance has improved by orders of magnitude (if such a thing can me measured). There is a spoken and an unspoken sense of camaraderie; a shared feeling of loss, survival and conquest. We volunteer cleaning up green spaces and planting trees. We volunteer our time demolishing and re-building houses. We cook for each other, dance longer, sing out loud and hug with passion - then we hug som'mo. We will never again take for granted the stuff of life.

What is the most memorable thing that has happened as a result of rescuing people?

I gained a personal sense of mortality and appreciation for psychological trauma. I used to feel quite indestructible. I also used to think that I had great powers of empathy. Not so. Until I had my own meltdown, there's no way I could appreciate the debilitating effect.

What is the most humorous thing that has happened as a result of your experience in Katrina?

In the film, the word hero is used. I've heard that a few times from other sources as well. I think that is literally hilarious. A hero is one who puts him or herself in harms way on purpose - think military, police, firemen, educators. I on the other hand, am a dumb fuck that had two dayz to get out of the way of impending danger, and didn't. Here's some humor: I'd do it again.

What is the most humorous thing that has happened as a result of your appearing in The Age of Stupid?

Well, I find that a crusty old Creole from South Louisiana being on a British Blog kinda funny.

Did you attend any of the Age of Stupid screenings and speak at Q & As?

I was talked into attending the global premier in New York and was glad that the girls brow beat me into doing so. It was so kool to observe all the inner workings of such a thing. The Stupid team pulled off a Herculean event. Inspirational. I was scheduled for some Q & A and interviews but they never materialized. To many moving parts and pieces to fit it all in.

If so, were you ever challenged about the irony of your appearing in a film about climate change, having previously been employed as a paleontologist by Shell?

I've been asked that and don't find it ironic. Paleontology by definition is a very holistic discipline. You must be a student of physics, biology, climatology, chemistry, philosophy, astronomy, and planet history to name a few. We are charged with integrating all of that in order to unravel and reconstruct Earth changes through time. Many of the geo-sciences, ergo, my colleagues, are the same. We are a planet friendly lot. Corporations (not just oil) on the other hand are in the business of making money within the confines of government rules and regulations. If we make the governments behave, the corporations will be required to behave and we will pay for the consequences and/or reap the benefits. I did what I did and am proud of my professional and environmental accomplishments from the inside.

What's the most stupid thing you've been asked about The Age of Stupid?

The above question is about the only thing that I've been asked so by default...but seriously, if I were to set out to cure, for example, Nigeria's ills exposed in the film, I would be looking down the government's throat, not the corporations. Shell Nigeria is majority owned by the Nigerian government. Not exactly the Shell that I worked for.

What are your feelings about the film and Franny's campaigning for people to recognise the seriousness of climate change?

I love Franny. I find her energy and passion contagious and think the momentum she has created will have real impact. She is indeed fo' real. But Franny n dem left some huge gaps in the cause and effect issues around the Nigerian scenes. No worries from my side - to be completely objective and pose all the info would take a twenty hour film.

When making a documentary you put stuff in there that supports your message and leave stuff out that contradicts it. E.g., Layefa in Nigeria bless her heart - isn't she a doll. She talks about the pollution and oil spills and fish kills and such and eventually goes into the black market fuel business to make a living. What you will never see in a film like Stupid is that the pirates that raid the oil facilities in order to feed the black market are huge contributors to the spills. Their modus operandi and equipment as you can imagine are not exactly environment friendly. Your everyday tree hugger watching the film would never get that. A tree hugger like me with experience in fuel theft would. The film is not lying, it's simply not documenting all the information.

As for climate change, it is indeed very serious and it is equally and simply what's so. By that I mean geologically speaking (the last thousand years or so) we have been in a warming cycle (inter-glacial, high stand system tract, transgression, bla, bla, bla). The debate raging in the political arena however, is about anthropogenic global climate change. Personally, I think the debate is sophomoric at best and only feeds the illusion that leaders are doing something. The only substance that I get from the debate is how important it is for their respective sides to be right at the expense of the other being wrong. Are we causing climate change? WHO CARES!!! How can anybody be against reducing emissions and pollution, and moving toward energy efficiency/independence? Could it be money? Winning? Power? Ego??? Sorry, what was the question?

You say, "If you multiply what happened to a million people living in this area by the billions on this planet...it's gonna be ugly".
Can you elucidate this point?

In that context I was referring to the inability of our elected officials to react to disasters of that magnitude. Hurricane Katrina was a natural event but the destruction after the storm was a man made, civil engineering disaster caused by poorly designed, constructed and maintained levees compliments of the US Army Corps of Engineers. So here is a perfect example of an unaccountable government agency creating a disaster and the same ineffectual government unable to react to it. Now we add the multiplier of the globe because I'm fairly certain that ours is not the only government that thrives on the indulgence of people's tolerances. Earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanic eruptions, hurricanes, fires, droughts, floods, famines, freezes... Whether these things can be correlated with human activity or not, I don't see our global leaders having the capacity or will to manage effectively. If further, the incidence rate of these disasters increase because of human activity, that looks very ugly in my minds eye. I could quote some Old Testament here for effect.

Devil Horse Locust at Al's camp.

We are a resilient species. The Earth is also resilient and historically very patient. Resilience and patience like resources are finite. If we ignore our own power to upset the balance of things, some or all components of life as we know it (physical, political, social, environmental) could experience a step change in the wrong direction. We've seen it happen on a small scale e.g., Katrina, Haiti, and there's no reason to believe that it couldn't happen on a global scale. Again.

...and to finish, here's Al's Gumbo recipe. As he says, "Most of the population eat to live, we live to eat." You can buy Gumbo file on eBay international from the USA...

DuV's Gumbo

About Gumbo – It is the quintessential New Orleans food incorporating the rich diversity of cultures in our area. Indeed, the word has become to mean ‘a mix’ of things. Gumbo is an African word for okra. It kills me when people ask if I’d made an ‘okra’ gumbo or if I use okra in my Gumbo. The short answer is that it ain’t Gumbo if there ain’t okra. Other inputs include but are not limited to: the roux from the French, Tomatoes from the Spanish, seafood from the Eastern Europeans that settled down River, sausage from the Germans (Des Allemandes), and of course, file’ (Sassafras) from the Native American Indians. The lore in my family is that with each additional vege or spice, you will gain a new friend that year.

Ingredients

Roux - 4 oz butter, 1T olive oil, flour (qty is texture dependant)

Gumbo - 2#'s coarse chop onions, 2 large bell peppers coarse chop, 2 1/2 #'s okra coarse chop, 3/4 head celery (chop leaf & stalk), 1 1/2 bunch green onion, 1 head garlic, 2 - 14oz cans whole tomatoes, 2 whole crabs (clean & break in halves or quarters), 5 - pt jars oysters, 4 #'s peeled shrimp; also may add sausage, crawfish, crab meat, boiled egg, weenies, chicken, duck, nutria, gator, wombat, etc...

Seasoning - 1/3 bottle (~1/2oz) gumbo file (fine ground sassafras)*, 3t basil, 1t thyme, 1t rosemary, 1 1/2t salt, 2t ground red pepper; also may add to taste sage, Tabasco, Tony's (Creole seasoning), etc...

Procedure

Roux - Heat butter and oil in sauce pan; add flour while stirring until consistency is that of thin pancake mix. Stir roux periodically on very low fire until dark vanilla wafer brown. Your roux should smell as rich as it looks. If you burn it start over or your gumbo will taste like burnt toast.

Rope - Fry onions on medium to hi heat (dash of oil for sticking) stirring often for approx 15 min. Add okra, stir violently until slimy texture.

Gumbo - Add canned tomatoes and fluid, add all juice from oyster jars, add roux very slowly while stirring, add fluid if necessary (beer, wine, stock or water), add crabs, seasoning, garlic, celery, bell peppers & green onion. By now you should need 1 or 2 bottles of beer to make it soupy. Add 2t vinegar if you want to cut the slime. Let cook till desired texture (approx 2 hrs), add shrimp & oysters and let cook 15 min after oyster gills curl or approx 30 min.

Remarks – Use fresh veges and spices for some or all above when possible. This gumbo should be prepared the day before you want to eat it so that all the flavors can spamodulate properly. Serve over white rice.

Note – The file is a very powerful spice, compliments of our Native American brethren. It will darken the brew and is the distinguishing flavor of Gumbo. The quantity used however, is typically according to your taste. Many will use none or a small amount when cooking and garnish with it upon serving.

Also – Be gentle with salt and or Tony’s if you’ll have sausage. Depending on the sausage, that can add plenty salt to the mix. Better to let it cook and wait to add salt at the end if needed.

John Redhead - A Cathar Forensic and Dead Room Chiseller Exhibitions

2010-01-22T12:03:00.002Z

Introduction from "For whom The Bells, The Bells toll; a meeting with John Redhead" by Brian Trevelyan.

To most people in the climbing world, John Redhead was best known as arguably the finest rock climber of his day. Some of his routes had to wait for up to ten years before a second ascentionist had sufficient madness or bottle (not to mention ability) to repeat them, and were characterised by lethal seriousness combined with cutting-edge technical difficulty. Many have had no third ascent and Margins of the Mind remains unrepeated, eighteen years on (“What does that say about the youth of today?”, says Redhead). However, his primary means of self expression was his painting; big canvases which mattered more to him than his climbing did, and which was a side of him hardly revealed to the often un-artistically minded climbing public.

The Mary Station © John Redhead

John Redhead is currently touring internationally with his multi media intervention - Remains of Languedoc. I interviewed him recently about his work.

The Cathar Forensic series - when did you create these?

Little more than a year ago I recorded some sounds at Montsegur (the last stronghold of the Cathars) - and took these raw sounds to the studio where I started to sketch - after three months I found the 'intent' needed to work the images into the sounds, evoking something of the energy needed to realise the paintings. From the start I have known that there are only about twenty works before the energy fails. It's limiting stuff! It's draining. Some artists play a style out and keep churning out, but that would make me ill - so that will be the sum lot! I will then involve myself with some other theme.

God will recognise his own © John Redhead

How did you come to find out about the Cathars?

I have known something of the cathar situation for a while - I have a friend in the village who was the president of the Scottish Theosophical Society who is well versed in the 'Mary'/St John stuff and he introduced me to a book - The Blood of Toulouse by Maurice Magre (in French) - and I edited a section of this for an English translation - enthralling stuff and a better read than The DaVinci Code! This was only on paper though. Only recently did the landscape hit me. It's pretty obvious that something went on in the area...not just by travelling through it, walking the hills and seeing the sites - but the geometry and energy of the landscape - physical! I did a similar intervention in the slate quarries of Llanberis - again, the landscape having absorbed what went on there - Soft Explosive hard Embrace. Again, images conjoured up by the textural sounds found there.

Detail © John Redhead

One of the pieces is entitled 'rape - a catholic tool' Why?

The Cathars or rather 'The Pure Ones' (Cathar being a derogatory term coined by the catholics meaning heretic) believed in transcendance from the physical - they were trans-material. As such, the body, the earth, procreation were the result of the Devil. As there was no omnipotent God, they needed to free themselves (their soul) from this prison. For the Cathars, homosexual sex (non procreative sex) was preferred to marital sex. At that time the Roman Catholic church was the opposite and procreative sex (rape etc) preferred over non procreative sex.

Cake or Death © John Redhead

Another is entitled 'God will recognise his own' - what is the religious significance of this body of work?

On the seize of Beziers a crusader asked the commander Papel Legate Arnaud- Amaury how to tell a Cathar from a catholic, the abbot replied "Kill them all, God will know his own". I keep my own feelings out of my work for the intent to work. However, if I were to take a personal approach, this saying sums up much of the problems that religion causes - and causes to this day. Seven centuries later, what have we learned? Bullying a belief system onto others that are just 'other' still orders the world!

Rape - a catholic tool © John Redhead

What are your own feelings about god?

I have a spiritual 'other' energy in all I have ever done! I am aware that a part of me is a microscopic part of the whole of creation and beyond - and connects me with everything else...this has nothing to do with god or religion. I don't have to have a belief system to understand a wrongness! The Kaballah makes sense to me - and other pre Christian gnostic stuff - the Uphanishads Hindu scriptures also, Buddism, The tao etc...Pagan ideologies! The shamanic influence is strong in my work. But I don't need any of it to make me aware of who I am and what to do - the spacecraft will appear soon enough!

Detail © John Redhead

Is there still strong feeling in the region where you live in the south of France about the The anti-Cathar Albigensian Crusade?

I say that the Cathar forensic searches for fragments as much in the future as in the past. This area of Languedoc was the civilised, tolerant, educated part of what was to become France. The Cathars mixed with the muslims and jews to have discourse and share mutual source material. This ended with the crusade - and the fuedal lords of the north and King of france helped the Pope in disposing the Cathars of their land. French was only imposed on the region in 1700. All other tongues where expunged violently. Anyone who spoke Occitan was burned (remember that Richard the Lionheart King of England spoke Occitan as his common language). When genocide hits the land, the land does not forget..and more importantly with the soul of the people. Civility and chivalry died in this part of the world! Among the French they say this area of France is the 'arsehole of France. The French being generally intolerant and in my opinion openly racist this may have more to do with the Catalans - another race under the subterfuge of the French. The area where I live is historically and culturally Spanish (Catalunya) and now traditionally communist - from the Franco days over the border - Picasso stayed here! The Nazis were embraced here however as the mountain people adapted yet again to change. There is a strong Pagan element in the old folks here. Mary and John the Baptist are worshipped above jesus and the witches (the Bruixa) have their ceremonies. Some houses have larger facing stones on the walls to attract a witch to 'sit down'...and some have trident shaped forks on the apex to stop them (espanta bruixa). I have the exhibition showing in my village at the moment...the mountain folk are not used to art!

Detail © John Redhead

Do you really believe that the divine message originally came from Zarathustra and was kidnapped by the church?

At the time we are talking about there were three strands of 'Christianity' - The Jew Jesus line, the Paulicians and the gnostic stuff. To me there is nothing 'divine' with Roman Catholism and the Jesus story is well dodgy! The gnostics travel way back beyond time and possibly hold the most of what was the essence of Christianity. The Cathars were certainly heretic because Catholism wasn't their Christianity! There is something to grasp with the Essenes, the Manicheans, Bogomils...ancient manuscripts for the church to die for! Religion holds no power for me... there is more power in a dog turd on the pavement! However, one must always read between the lines!

The Devil Seeks a Shoulder © John Redhead

Were you brought up a catholic and does this bear any relation to the work you're now producing?

My work is merely a response to where I find myself - I think the primary role of art is that of engagement with the community - not in a local sense but offer the potential of a wider, alternative vision...like offering a chariot to a stranger place! Having no 'axe to grind' or no picture to paint means that I am not fudged in the personal! I am not an artist in the sense that I 'produce' paintings. It is an organic process, often slow and spasmodic, which I hope creates the potential for possibilities, dialogue and latitude. Is it a religious tenet to make the effort to understand oneself in the cosmos? In Hindu scriptures, it is one's duty to connect 'The city of Brahman' in one's heart to the cosmos. Is this religion or a way of life? I think religion can take you away from this goal...communication other than the literal is poetic - transformative. In Thailand it is considered a duty to learn something new from a stranger every day! Anyone can make pictures to sell and the art galleries are full of style and products and concepts that are displayed like labels in the high street. Not my deal. There is no religious motive in this latest work, but being a religious subject with implication for today, religion informs it.

Ships of Bugaresh © John Redhead

Do you still climb?

The physical act of movement on rock is still important to me. Bouldering mostly on warm rock near the Med. The sangria is good for my old injuries!

The Mary Station © John Redhead

Was there any religious significance in any of your route names?

All my route names where significant! The religious aspect is in the eye of the beholder! Religious in the sense that they were meaningful and thought out and related to the worship of a divine being? Hmm! Devotion to the superhuman? Religious in the sense of being a football supporter? Employing a certain poetic, some route names certainly had a divine quality! For instance, Margins of the Mind or Rite of Spring. Others were just pure filth! All is sacred.

Detail © John Redhead

What are your feelings about Llanberris? It seems to be a place to which you return time and again. Do you still consider it home?

Yep, Llanberis and its mountains are still home! When the evening sun reaches under the black clouds and spreads its luminous green light for all to bathe in - yes - you are home - and the sun embraces the Welsh hills every evening to die! As Augustus John said, "The changing skies reflect our temperament more so than a perpetual blue". It's also nice being in the perpetual blue on the Med, but after a little while I need to play with it and mix a little black reality in there! I'm not a tourist.

God Will Recognise His Own © John Redhead

How do you feel about living in France, up in the Pyrenees? Is it inspiring, artistically?

I'm in the process of writing a book called 'Colonists Out' - (from the political graffiti around Llanberis) exploring what exactly a 'home' is. This was inspired from moving out of Wales into the unknown and realising that we are all 'colonists'. As such our duty is to protect and nourish the land we find ourselves in. I am working in the Pyrenees much the same as I have always worked - be it living in Leeds or Liverpool or the Welsh hills. I don't portray the landscape in a romantic, wooly way - more inspired to interview that lone soul stumbling down the street or take recordings from a heroin addict in a doorway, or construct huge panels of painting and obstruct pathways in the hills! The only art this region of France recognises is that of hunting wild boar! The hunters are the artists! I came around a corner on a piste the other day and there on a stool slept a hunter with his finger on the rifle's trigger pointing my way...I stopped the van and approached him cautiously...he awoke with glee thrusting a bottle of pastis in my face! The church in my village is at an altitude of 666m - this attracts a few alternative types! 200 years ago the church steeple colapsed killing some of the congrigation...on the French side you have Ceret where Picasso lived and on the Spanish side you have Figueres where Salvador Dali lived - Franco woz ere, Pan's Labyrinth was filmed here, Naploeon fought wars here, the Nazis were welcomed here - the Jews escaped into the hills here - this is all history. This does not inspire me as an artist, but informs me - possibly creating a template to work with and reach into and draw a body of work out. I am mostly working with sound here - the area has a musical tradition. I feel my next work will be on the Spanish side (who are more tolerant and engaged with the arts at every level) for a 'bruixa' (witch) theme! Perhaps barcelona which is only one and a half hours away.

Death To Civility © John Redhead

Tell us about the soundscape 'dead room chiseller'

Dead Room Chiseller. My new project! A sonic exploration in loss and suffering.

Five tracks taken from recordings of the homes and from the voices of those in suffering from loss. For some, a loss can become unbearable, and the living space a torture cell of times and moments and actions of the past. It seems a ‘sticky’ land of hauntings and negative thoughts, where one is unable to travel through to new possibilities. This land is entered and life stops.

All buildings have a presence, and for me the hauntings are part of a sculptural sound that has dialogue with a mythological landscape. This ‘virtual’ land has its origins in the very heart of the home and through visualisation and intent its auditory aura can be meaningful. Giving ‘tongue’ to this skirmishing connects beyond the subjective and personal. I believe such a manifestation can help dissolve the torment and ablate the woeful state of loss.

This mapping of souls is a kind of sonic mourning, a digital keening that can evoke a unique sense of perception, not only of the world but of your immediate environment and living space.

For me these ‘songs’ have a certain musical imagery and may be familiar or suggestive. Death and the field of parting is certainly a subject for the ‘banshee’ to enter and pull out some meaning and hope and renewal.

This canvas is not just a song, but a song sung before the mystery of time.

Did you see The Culture Show special about John Lydon? In it John talks about composing music through the grief he was experiencing. Have you ever felt any kindred feeling with John Lydon or his work?

Don't see the culture show - I don't watch TV - no time and no reception!

Would you ever consider working with other musicians? Musicians like John Lydon or Jah Wobble, say? Or do you prefer to work alone as a musician?

I am not very good at working with others! Something about me. I have tried and will continue to collaborate if it suits. Certainly the soundtracks that I do have an interesting place on the musical energy spectrum but perhaps need to be brought into the wider arena - this is where working with others helps...I tend to 'tangent' my energies to work on other projects...I have five or six at any time! I lack organisational skills and have a poor memory! My big truck that moved me to the Pyrenees has gone back to Earth after having been parked up on some land belonging to a friend (Gilad Atzmon from the Blockheads!) I finished a series of huge paintings in it as part of the 'Interview with the Streets' project and finished the soundtrack (using Gilad's sax sounds), 'Hero Gone Bent' a textural city soundscape with the transcripts from girls working the streets (two have since died) - this was four years ago...and I haven't been in the truck since!

Dead Room Chiseller - A sonic exploration of loss and bereavement - five tracks of recordings from the homes and lives of those in suffering...sonic mourning...

A Cathar Forensic - Words, images & sounds from Montsegur to Rosslyn - “Kill them all, God will recognise his own.”

Exhibition Dates:

Sunday, 15 February 2009, Tuesday, 17 February 2009 at Galeria Kokopelli, Placeta Sant Antoni, Sant Lorenc de Cerdans, France 66260

LLAMFF 2010, 5th to 7th March, Llanberis, Wales

Al DuVernay writes about Hurricane Katrina

2010-01-14T15:55:00.001Z

"Ours is a life of passion for the extreme." - Alvin DuVernay

On watching Alvin DuVernay in the documentary The Age of Stupid, I realised that this was an exceptional human being whose voice should be heard. And my gut instinct kept telling me "This man can write." My gut instinct was correct, and below is his account of what happened when Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans in 2005. I will be interviewing Al for the blog soon.

Katrina, 29 August 2005

Al DuVernay – Paleontologist

New Orleans Native

As a species, we must react and adapt to our environment. The alternative is extinction. The list of human inventions for protecting ourselves from the elements is endless and dates back to our earliest ancestors: caves, huts, animal skins, foul weather gear, storm and quake proof structures, mechanically conditioned air, etc. Then one day Mother Nature approaches gently and methodically, but seemingly with purpose and resolve. This time she must clearly demonstrate her status in the scheme of things. She enters your life and dares you to stand toe-to-toe with your puny man-made adaptations. “Go ahead,” she says. “Put on your slicker suit. No, not that one, the expensive one you bought from Sharper Image for ‘protection in extreme conditions’. I dare you!” She whispers, “Use your Swiss Army knife and release that fine garment from its hermetically sealed, vacuum-pack.”

“Let's dance!” She demands.

Preparation for Hurricane Katrina proceeded like so many other storms in my memory of a half-century or so. I collected, compiled, and spamodulated in anticipation that the worst might happen. Every storm is the same drill, the notion being that with proper anticipation and equipment, personal harm can be mitigated and aid to those less prepared can be given. Staring down Mother Nature had never felt arrogant or foolish; it is simply what I’ve always done.

I’d been monitoring the storm’s projected path for days on the Web and did so one last time before leaving work on Friday. No worries for us; it would seem that poor Florida was to be hit by another monster. Saturday morning however, the neighborhood was abuzz with storm and evacuation talk. Had I missed something? My back door neighbor suggested I have a fresh look at the weather sites. Sure enough, most of the models had her pointing right at New Orleans with category 5 winds and surge in tow. Damn – time to gear-up in earnest.

It’s a familiar exercise but a chore none-the-less: charge up the boat batteries; top off gas tanks (boat, truck, bike, chain saw, extra tanks); fill containers with water (plastic bottles, drums, ice chests, bath tubs, buckets) - some for drinking, some for sanitation; provision the boat (canned food, 12V TV, radio, chain saw, ropes, axe, 1st aid, rain gear, clothes); police the grounds for potential missiles (seemingly heavy or even fixed objects become destructive in 100mph winds); fill several ice boxes with block ice; and finally, stage some perishables in the refrigerator and freezer so that they can quickly be moved into ice boxes when the power outage is imminent.

Saturday came and went; Sunday brought more bad news, i.e., Katrina was still bound for the Delta. Rob Sloan, my Chef Menteur camp partner wanted to lighten the load in his freezer before he evacuated, so we met at the camp and baited the crab traps. Blue Crabs always run great after a storm. There’s a better than average chance you’ll lose your freezer contents and this year we had a lot to lose. Within the three weeks prior, two events had filled our freezers: we slammed the Trout at Grand Isle, and I had hit the Lake Pontchartrain Pogy run just right – three throws with my 7 ft cast net filled an 80 qt icebox. I’d a freezer full of the best eating fish on the planet and enough bait to get me through the Spring Catfish run and Summer Crab season for the coming year.

I spent that Sunday monitoring the news; moving my Dad from his house in Metry to mine in Lakeview; and staging supplies, provisions, tools, and equipment where they would be most needed. The local news was filled with scenario building and animated desperation as the leadership floundered with suggestions and eventually demands on what we should and should not be doing. Something was missing - indeed, a crisp implementation plan.

That evening and the following morning was the single most impressive thing I’d ever experienced. As a geoscientist, this is a fairly bold declaration. We’ve seen some things. We’ve peered down the throats of active volcanoes, and canoed glacier lakes and rapids. We’ve kicked through miles of cactus in Mexico and have even survived Vino and Grappa overdose on the Mediterranean. Many of us have grappled for hours wrestling the death grip of the Louisiana flotant marsh. Ours is a life of passion for the extreme.

For hours the house shuddered with each gust of wind and there was a continuous din of snapping trees and limbs. I’d monitored the rainwater street flooding in front of my house all night and morning. It was flowing (as it should have been) from South to North. By daybreak the storm winds began to subside, so I walked the neighborhood to assess the damage before going down for a well overdue nap. Gratefully, I whispered a prayer of thanks that we had dodged yet another deadly bullet. Simultaneously I observed that the flow regime had made a 180-degree change and was now flowing North to South – my prayer changed to one of mercy. Relentlessly, doggedly, the water crept up the lawn. To the sidewalk, over the porch and into the house it came with ambivalence yet malicious results.

Something was wrong I remember thinking. It had to be a break in one of the levees. Surely the peak surge had passed so the levees could not have been topped. The levees failed? How could this be? The storm had weakened to Cat 2 when it passed our area and the US Army Corps of Engineers had assured us the levees were designed and built to withstand a Cat 3 storm. No time to meditate on that - It was about 9:00 am and time to dance – no time for a nap.

There is no way to describe what it feels like to watch everything you own being slowly digested by putrid urban flood waters. Further, no one could’ve imagined what an ominous and persistent shadow this event would cast on our lovely city. No one could’ve believed how ineffectual our local and federal leaders would prove to be; and equally, how impotent their emergency planning. No one could’ve anticipated the inequities, fraud, deception, and incompetence that would soon and continuously, be exposed. I didn’t at the time. I was operating on pure inspiration and adrenalin – no humanity, no sense of past or future, no blame, guilt, or remorse. It was fight or flight time – instinctive and primal.

My Dad and I got the mutts and all of our provisions from their staging area up to the camelback rooms above the garage. My neighbor Shannon had evacuated and called for an update; the best I could come up with was, “Your house is fine so far, but I can’t talk now because the water is rising!” Within an hour, the water was waist deep and it was time to float the boat out of the garage and prepare for our escape. We tied the boat off to the upstairs window and monitored the radio for information while measuring the water’s rate of rise. Fortunately WWL radio was broadcasting and doing their best given the breakdown in typical communication tools. Frustrated at the information (or lack thereof) coming across, I tried calling in to provide a real-time account. Alas cell phone usage was dismal.

We watched and listened for a few hours more and decided to motor off toward dry land in Metry. The water was steadily rising and showed no signs of stopping. From a lucky phone connection I’d made earlier, we knew that just west of the 17th St Canal was relatively dry. That would be our destination if we could navigate through the labyrinth of broken trees, power lines, and neighborhood debris. Immediately, we realized that this would not be a simple exercise in navigation. Our modest fishing vessel, sixteen-foot aluminum flat, was quickly transformed into a lifeboat. I knew why I had not evacuated but why hadn’t so many others; so many without proper means of escape; so many elderly and infirmed? Too many years of dumb luck and blind faith in the federal levees had given us all a false sense of security.

We picked up as many people as we safely could that afternoon and shuttled them to the Vets Hwy, 17th St Canal Bridge. If the boat were full, we would promise others that we would come back for them – and did. Darkness came and it was too dangerous to continue. I remember wondering while tying my boat to a tree for the night – where is the real cavalry? I left the keys and spare gas tanks in the boat in case it might be useful for others. Mentally, I’d written my boat off – another casualty of the storm. The extended adrenalin surge was over. My brain and muscles burned and I could finally acknowledge my breaking heart.

My good friend Richard Thurman picked us up in his truck and brought us to my Dad’s house a mile or so away. It was high and dry, suitable for catching up on some news from my 12V TV, and getting a few hours of restless sleep before reigniting the adrenalin jets. We had plenty of food, but eating was the furthest thing from my mind. I opted for a couple of cold Abita beers on the front stoop instead - they wouldn’t be cold for long.

That evening was unforgettable. There was no power, running water, people, birds, bugs, nor wind. There was no sound. The night sky was beautiful but wrong - too many stars for suburban America. The silence was deafening – peaceful but frightening.

I was jolted out of bed on Tuesday at 4:00am to the rude yet protective barking of our dogs. My (soon to be) good friend Dickie Durham was walking the street with his neighbor Maria looking for people and/or resources to help rescue her family who was trapped in the flood. We talked for a bit and planned to meet at the boat at first light. She was desperate to get to them right away, and I did my best to explain how hazardous it would be to attempt such a rescue in the dark. She was not convinced but reluctantly complied.

Unable to go back to sleep, I armed myself with axe, bottled water and tobacco, and walked back to the boat. It was still tied off where I had left it so I swam out to it and sorted through the tools, ropes, provisions and such while waiting for daylight and my helpers.

Dawn broke soon. Dickie and I shoved off for our first mission, and I was thankful that I hadn’t much time for reflection. The water was still rising so negotiating the currents under bridges, around trees and over power lines was a bit tricky. We found Maria’s family and easily got them out of a second story window into the boat. Four generations were happily alive and well - great grandparents visiting from Italy, Grand-ma, Mom, and her three children including an angel of only six weeks old. When I took hold of the tiny basket from the window and saw that delicate human child gently breathing, eyes closed, and at peace - well, maybe the storm itself wasn’t so impressive after all compared to this.

Maria and her family were reunited and we continued penetrating the neighborhood to pull people, pets and belongings off of roofs and out of windows. In short order a couple of other civilians launched boats and joined in the ersatz rescue force. Richard joined me in my boat and Dickie and another good friend Charlie Dominic found other boats to crew with.

Alvin rescuing Rusty © Chris Graythen Photography

After a couple of hours the Coast Guard choppers were working the area as well. We watched them hover over a house and effectively (albeit slowly) haul one person at a time into their vehicle. Meanwhile we would get two or three folks and as many pets from two or three different houses and shuttle them all back to dry land – six to nine per boat load. I remember thinking how efficient this effort could be if those choppers were systematically locating and mapping out where the people in need were, and communicating that information to those of us on the water.

We dropped off our passengers on the Vets Hwy, 17th St Canal Bridge where private citizens from the dry side of the disaster had congregated. One woman had set up a lean-to out of plastic for shade and took care of the orphaned pets. People were helping each other - strangers in life but brothers and sisters in spirit, they shared towels, dry clothes, food and water. They drove the rescued off in their cars, maybe to their own homes, I don’t know. Dickie’s wife became the self-appointed site director. She enlisted support from what would have otherwise been a random collection of sightseers. She rallied the congregation with clear but curt direction, solicited gasoline and drinking water for the boats, and with conviction of purpose curtailed inappropriate behaviors. She made me take a break and eat a cheese sandwich (white bread, no Mayo) - a mundane yet crystalline act of humanity.

The task was daunting, i.e., too many people with too few resources (and still no cavalry). Richard left me to go get his neighbor’s boat and put it into the fray. It was only late morning and I already felt spent and sun-baked – my God it was hot. I kicked back to have a long drink of water and roll up some nicotine before pushing off back into the neighborhood. This time I would be alone.

A guy with black rubber boots and a formidable collection of cameras around his neck approached my boat. He introduced himself as Chris Graythen, a Getty Images Photographer, and asked if he could ride with me and get some pictures of the event. My initial reaction was ‘no way’ because I could afford neither space nor weight in the boat for a photographer. I further allowed that I could use some help, and if in the process he could get some shots that would be fine. He agreed. Chris proved to be an awesome first mate. He was casually competent in the ways of boating and rescuing, his compassion was inspirational and energizing, and he stayed with me the whole day. A word on this last point: as a professional photographer, Chris could have been traversing the city capturing Pulitzer Prize winning images. Chris chose humanity and me; for that I shall be forever grateful.

About midday Chris and I learned that something, perhaps FEMA, was set up on the I-610 overpass so we started dropping off our people there. The cavalry had arrived. Say what you want about that organization’s leadership but those folks on the ground were kicking butt. They had airboats, chainsaws, emergency medical, food, water, shelter, and busses. And they worked tirelessly.

We continued our civilian efforts until we started losing light. It was time to stand down and leave the mission to the professionals. Richard got his neighbors boat back home and Charlie rescued my boat with a spare trailer of his. With broken spirits and sore bodies, we proudly limped home. I’d have traded my pension for a shower that evening but had to settle for a towel bath with bottled water and Dr Tichenor’s antiseptic. What evil sort of microbes and chemicals had we been exposed to? Rash like blisters were bubbling up on my face, arms and chest. Paranoia set in.

How many people? How many pets? Unknown. Hundreds, I suspect. It all just ran together and it seemed like it couldn’t get worse. After a few minutes watching the TV, I learned that it indeed was. Most of the city and points Eastward and South were in similarly dire or worse circumstances - Uptown, Downtown, Mid City, Gentilly, Ninth Ward, Arabi, St Bernard, North Shore, Mississippi, etc, etc, etc. Horrific reports of panic in the Dome, looting, and car-jacking overwhelmed me with a sense of dread as I had no means of transportation out of the area.

The rest of that evening and the next morning I inventoried provisions and laid out rations to last for several weeks. We were armed, prepared and alive. And like so many others, we were wondering what recovery would look like and when it would begin? Local and national leadership was thin at best, and it was clear that survival would be a personal matter. Salvation arrived mid-morning. Richard came by the house and declared that we could have his truck, he would use his motorcycle, and that we should all escape to safety and sanity. White knuckled and ten hours later, Dad and I arrived at my sister’s house in Houston. Four years later, I’m still waiting to see some leadership and grateful that I’m not dependent on them for my personal recovery efforts.

Casualties of the storm: they are indeed many and diverse – lives, pets, property, hearts, minds, relationships, futures, etc. What has this event done for us? These experiences have enhanced our personal power and resolve. We share a special bond that others will never understand, never empathize with, and can never relate to nor tolerate. We are more tolerant because we’ve all gone a little crazy and back (often). We are more patient because we’ve learned that to behave otherwise will merely enhance the frenzy. We embrace simple and mundane pleasures as if they were priceless treasures because we have been reduced to ‘starting over’ in the fullest extent of the phrase. Those who were lucky started with a car and a change of underwear, or a boat and some tools, or their pets and a friend’s sofa for rest. We cherish the tolerance and charity of others because we understand personal inequities, judgment lapses, and inexplicable reactions brought on by the event. We are comrades of cause and effect.

Compared to nature, we humans are so tiny, yet through simple choices and adrenaline-driven gestures springing from those choices, we have so much power to affect the outcome of events beyond our control. I wonder what the ripple effects of our gestures will be. I wonder how those people we helped will touch the lives of others. I wonder who and what the baby in the basket will grow up to be and how many lives that child will touch through the years? I wonder...

My heart has been shredded in so many ways and at so many levels throughout this event. Oddly, it did not start with the water inundating and destroying my home while my Dad and I escaped in the boat. It began days later when I finally got connected to full time media coverage and witnessed their gross misrepresentation, and the obvious instigation styles, tools, techniques, and agenda, i.e., find the angriest person around, spin the report, and fuel the negative energy with subjective interpretation.

For the few days of the storm my spirit was glowing with the kindness, generosity, and tender mercies of humankind. The on-demand rescue fleet, sharing of resources, and general concern for each other's well-being was abundant. I saw little of that on the news. Yes, there were extremely bad things happening and indeed very bad people doing those things. There were however, equally good things happening. Again, I saw little of that on the news. Both are news and information, and the public deserves the whole story. Not just the sensational horror that might as well be slapped on a plastic lunch box and sold at the dime store.

I believe in the goodness of people despite some of the media's obsession for the contrary. I believe that my time spent with the civilian rescue fleet validates my belief. I still feel the love, the caring, the perseverance, and the overwhelming camaraderie. I see the bad stories. I see the evil portraits. I choose to believe in what I feel. This I believe.

In life there are many events,

Some with cause to pine,

These aren't they.

Tomorrow is mine.

***

Above: Al to camera...

Useful links:

Al DuVernay is one of the stars of the documentary The Age of Stupid which you can download from the site or hold your own independent screening. The Age of Stupid is a 2008 film by Director Franny Armstrong (McLibel, Drowned Out) and first-time producer Lizzie Gillett. Oscar-nominated Pete Postlethwaite stars as a man living alone in the devastated future world of 2055, looking at old footage from 2008 and asking: why didn’t we stop climate change when we had the chance?

Interview with Jude Calvert-Toulmin - The Causes and Effects of Ageism on Women

2010-01-05T13:16:00.007Z

A friend of mine writing a dissertation for her degree has interviewed me for her coursework. The interview is below. If you would like to be interviewed on this vital subject then contact me asap and I will put you in touch with the author of the work.

More interviews, filmed and written, with documentary filmmakers and with me, coming up over the next few months...

How has your age changed the way you perceive yourself over the years?

My knowledge and wisdom have made me feel more powerful, but have also made me more aware of the injustices perpetrated upon women, and of how vulnerable I am to inequality in this patriarchal society.

How do you think other peoples perceptions have changed as you have aged?

It depends on the gender. Women aren't as viciously competitive towards one another when they get older. They tend to stick together more to help one another as we're all in the same boat, having endured a lifetime of inequality and ill treatment from men.

Older men are definitely much more threatened by me. In my teens and twenties, there was a default setting for how I was treated by men. They were condescending, abusive, violent, sneering and lecherous. So called friends, family, employers, almost every man I dealt with. Those who were respectful and admiring were in a pitiful minority. Now, younger men are more respectful because I'm the same age as their mothers, but with breasts that aren't taboo in an incestuous sense, therefore I scare them. Only the strongest younger men are able to deal with me on an equal footing; Older men are generally just scared and use condescension as their armour. I feel much more powerful now that I'm older but just as many doors are shut in my face. Men are free to be good-looking, intelligent, talented, outspoken and old without being sneered at, denigrated, labelled or vilified. Women are not.

Have you ever been or suspected you have been the subject of ageism or has somebody you know i.e; a colleague? How did this effect your/their self esteem?

I'm the subject of ageism the minute I walk into the street. It doesn't affect my self-esteem because I was treated even worse when I was younger when men abused my gullibility. Now at least I have the power of wisdom.

If so how much of this do you think is down to the media, or other factors? What factors?

Above: Moira Stuart - too graceful to say "But you didn't sack David Frost."

The media are to blame for much of the perpetration of ageism towards women. No physically unattractive, doddery 65 year old woman would be allowed to anchor a breakfast programme on one of the main TV networks as David Frost was allowed to do on Breakfast With Frost. Newsreaders such as Angela Rippon, Anna Ford and Moira Stuart were all herded off our screens due to being too old. They were all physically attractive older women who would not have lasted as long as they did had they been as physically unattractive as David Frost.

David Frost. Allowed to be on TV despite his age and looks.

Is there a glass ceiling that exists for women still?

Of course. Look at the key figures sitting round the table at any international convention of heads of state. They are nearly all older men, most of them balding and unattractive. A convention of ugly older women making decisions about the state of the world would never be tolerated. A woman's main currency is still beauty. A man's currency is power and money. Unless women abandon their children to child minders, which means abandoning one of their fundamental roles in life, nurturing, loving, caring for and teaching their young, then they will be years behind in any future career, which, even aside from society's prejudice, will mean they have less power than men.

In what ways do you feel the double standard between women and men as they age is perpetuated by the media? (e.g Michael Douglas marrying Catherine Zeta Jones was fine, Joan Collins marries much younger man and people raise eyebrows)

It is wrong, it is damaging to society and it is time that women rose up and put a stop to it. The Suffragette movement in England was only a hundred years ago; there is still a long way to go. And in many countries women are still enslaved and physically and mentally abused in male dominated societies.

Are women to blame in any way for the ageism that occurs?

Buying into the expectations of society and getting plastic surgery in a vain attempt to look younger is buying into it, but you can't blame women for their insecurity. It's hardly surprising we're insecure. Our power, the power to have blood pouring out of us but still continue to work, to have a creature growing inside of us and then emerging into the world, putting our life and its life at risk, is ignored and marginalised whilst men trumpet their power undergoing pursuits such as mountaineering as "fighting the elements" making them "real men" when really these are just selfish hobbies to entertain themselves.

However we need men, to fertilise our eggs, to hunt and build and fight wars. And to be big warm furry teddy bears to cuddle at night. I love men individually. It is the male domination of society I abhore.

What advantages does your femininity bring you within your line of work?

None. As a male writer and publisher I would be taken far more seriously. As a female writer of erotic fiction the fear invoked has held me back. Local radio and TV won't touch me with a barge pole at the moment because I'm not family viewing. Maybe because my erotic novel, Mother-in-Law, son-in-Law is in celebration of the sexuality of older women; a totally taboo subject.

Have you ever omitted your gender because of the ageism/sexism that exists (i.e online forums, or omitting your first name from any publications)

No. And I never will. I've always posted on forums under my own name or a recognisable pseudonym linking to me and always posted/written as a woman. I once ventured onto a completely male dominated forum full of supposedly well 'ard climbers, defending myself against vicious cyber bullying by cowardly males protecting themselves with either anonymity or the power of being a mod, whilst I posted as a woman under my real name. Who's a big strong brave boy now, eh? You can read about that in my novel My Adventures In Cyberspace.

Do you think there is a scientific basis in ageism – i.e youth and beauty will always be preferred?

Youth is preferred as a criteria for reproduction. Women who have already produced families and grand-children should not be judged by these criteria and should be judged on their wisdom, experience and what they can give to society. The fact that the resource of women has been so wasted is one fundamental reason why our civilisation is in decline.

Beauty is preferred to sell products, including magazines and films. In terms of finding mates, if all else is equal, men and women tend, I believe, to gravitate towards those on an equal scale of attractiveness. However ugly rich powerful older men tend to seek out weaker younger poorer beautiful women.

There have many examples of ageism in the media recently, for example the Alesha Dixon / Arlene Philips story (Strictly Come Dancing), (Moira Stuart BBC Newsreader) what is your take on them?

I don't watch soaps, Strictly or X-Factor but I do watch the news. Moira Stuart was a talented and popular BBC newsreader. Dumped from the TV at a beautiful 55, whilst Frost dodders and dribbles on at an ugly 70. It is wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong wrong. It is sexist, it is ageist, and we are all putting up with it. If a woman chat show host had been responsible for sexually related slurs on an elderly man's grand-daughter on the telephone as Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand were, then she would have been sacked for good and far more widely vilified than they were, not let off with a temporary ban like Ross, before walking back into her overpaid job which costs the BBC millions.

Should ageism be taken as seriously as racism or other forms of discrimination?

Yes. The BBC should be punished for sacking Moira Stuart for a start. However the BBC do have Nick Fraser as the commissioning editor for their Storyville documentary series on BBC4 so they are forgiven for that alone.

Do you think the media will continue to oppress women more or less in the future? (Do you think your daughters will face the same hurdles)

It will get worse. In the UK, girls of 7 are prancing around in mini skirts and mascara. Young, powerless, skint women are lured and ensnared by men with power and money the world over, and prostitution is the oldest profession in the history of mankind. Women are doomed.

Having said that, I adore my daughters, my son and my husband equally as human beings. It is mankind, that earth-infesting virus, which is a horrible little scourge on our planet, rather than individual human beings.

Are the government doing enough to stop ageism/censor ageism in the media?

Of course not. But the rungs of the political ladder are made from greed, corruption, lies and a voracious power-hunger; the government only care about the other boys in their tree house ie the bankers and the lawyers. On the door of that tree house is a scribbled sign saying "No girls allowed unless you've sold your soul to the devil like Thatcher."

Link: Maev Kennedy for The Guardian about newsreader Moira Stuart. Media celebs question BBC decision to dump one of its older female newsreaders.

Davy Crockett Hats - They will be everywhere in winter 2010...

2009-12-23T16:19:00.002Z

Me in my coonskin hat.

A quick blog entry this week as I'm busy preparing for Yuletide. Above is me in my office wearing my Davy Crockett coonskin hat, which I bought from an Ebay seller in North Dakota two years ago. Wearing the hat around Sheffield during 2007 and 2008, no-one ever commented, but this year, I've been stopped in the street by strangers and asked about the hat and had several people walking past me going "Wow, look at that hat!" I predict that in the UK coonskin hats will be everywhere in the winter of 2010. They'll be in Top Shop and there'll be horrible tacky versions in cheap tack outlets. So for this winter I'll carry on enjoying my coonskin hat whilst everyone else is still in Russian hats (I bought my Russian hat 8 years ago, way before they came into fashion again.) And once everyone else is in coonskin hats, I'll be wearing what will be in fashion in 2015...

By the way, to anyone doubting the morality of wearing fur, if you drink factory farmed milk from cows with udders reaching the floor, or wear leather, or eat factory farmed meat, then don't complain about fur wearers. Fur is just leather with the cute fluff left on. If you really care about the treatment of animals used for produce, then join Compassion in World Farming.

Me and my son Jasper Jed on the office webcam.

A history of the coonskin cap.

The Age of Stupid - Dancing like our house isn't on fire.

2009-12-15T15:11:00.002Z

Last night I watched another visceral documentary from BBC's Storyville.

The Age of Stupid has been one of the most talked about documentaries of 2009 and it is vital viewing for all of us human beings who are dancing as though our house weren't on fire.

Our house is on fire. We don't care. We've got the latest iphone. Let our children and grandchildren suffer the effects of the fire whilst we dance, whilst we obsess over singing competitions on television, whilst we obsess over other people dancing on television, whilst we sing, whilst we dance, like our house, our earth, wasn't burning up.

The Age of Stupid is the new four-year epic from McLibel director Franny Armstrong. Oscar-nominated Pete Postlethwaite stars as a man living alone in the devastated world of 2055, looking at old footage from 2008 and asking: why didn’t we stop climate change when we had the chance?

Above: Pete Postlethwaite

Franny Armstrong:

If you're not fighting climate change or improving the world, you're wasting your life

Mark Laynes, author, Six Degrees Our Future on a Hotter Planet :

We had an unspoken collective pact to pretend climate change wasn't happening, as long as we ignored it hard enough it wouldn't be true...One of the greatest difficulties of climate change is that the effects of our emissions today are not actually realised in terms of the temperature for 30 or 40 years so there's this time lag in the system,which makes it difficult for us humans to respond because we're evolutionary equipped to deal with immediate threats like advancing armies or dangerous animals. We're not so well equipped with dealing rationally with long term problems like climate change. So we have to act now to stop something happening in the future.

Precisely. This is why smoking is so hard to stop, because the body is not evolutionarily advanced enough to see smoking a cigarette as a threat, when the craving does not materialise for another hour after smoking that cigarette. The threat is not immediate, therefore the brain is tricked into thinking there is no threat (this is called The Nicotine Trick by the way and understanding the way your brain works regarding its inability to associate action with delayed result will help you stop smoking. The book is a world wide best seller and available on Amazon.)

Franny Armstrong's film is having a huge impact already; allegedly half a million people watched a recent live the stupid show tv feed from Copenhagen. The United Nations Conference on Climate Change is taking place now, December 7 - December 18 2009.

Is tackling climate change now a day late and a dollar short? We have to do something. Everyone has to do their little bit, whether it be talking about it on facebook, on twitter or in the blogosphere. We all have a voice. The problem is that just as human beings care, human beings are also inherently selfish, and it is our selfishness and greed to consume more that has led us here, trapped in a burning house whilst our babies look on helplessly.

Above: Piers Guy

This problem was, for me encapsulated in The Age of Stupid during a scene where wind farm developer Piers Guy was prevented from erecting a wind farm in rural Bedfordshire after a planning meeting at the council, where he was met with resistance by a well-organised, well-heeled local anti-wind campaign group who had no intention of letting Piers's turbines spoil their view. From what I can make out, the Bedfordshire anti-wind farm campaign website homepage, by the way, invites you to drinks and canapés at a local barn but fails to give a list of its members.

"It's a fair fight", says their leader "and I hope you lose". She spoke to the Age of Stupid film crew after Piers' plan had been outvoted, and could barely contain her glee. The stills of her from the film shown here are taken from a sequence where she says this:

Course we're worried about global warming, I mean that's got to be something that we're all concerned about, I mean we're all doing our bit to try and conserve and looking at renewable energy of course, absolutely. Yeah, I mean, we're part of the la....

She stops short of actually saying the word beginning with "l", which could well have been the word "landscape" knowing it would make her look even more duplicitious and stupid than she had made herself look already.

Really, I wanted to reach into the television and slap her; arrogant bitch.

It's time to fight against that side of us that is selfish, greedy and ignorant. We do have a choice...

But let's end on a note of hope. The refreshing thing about The Age of Stupid is that some of its stars are deeply compassionate, tuned in human beings thinking about more than just the view out of their window.

Above: Alvin Duvernay.

Alvin Duvernay is one of the most incredible documentary subjects I've ever seen. A lifelong employee of Shell and a survivor of Katrina, he rescued more than 100 people in his boat and lost everything in the flood.

With our use or misuse of resources the last 100 years or so, I’d probably rename this age something like The Age of Ignorance, The Age of Stupid." he says. "If you multiply what happened to a million people living in this area by the billions on this planet... it's gonna be ugly.

So the film is named after one of his quotes. It's human beings like Alvin that give me hope that we are not a hopeless species after all.

You stare mother nature in the eye, usually she’s fairly benign. I mean it’s hot, it’s almost 100 degrees outside. So what do we do, we’re sitting in here in air conditioning. We adapt, right? Then she comes along methodically, ruthlessly, you know and then she stands toe to toe with you and dares you, dares you. Go ahead, get your best equipment out, go ahead, do it, let’s dance.

I mean what more of a wake up call do you need? At the very local level all the way through and including the top federal level I just don’t see that awakening, that epiphany in the politicians’ eyes. I don’t see the sense of urgency. And I certainly don’t see movement. A year or so later, after the event, and not a whole lot has changed.

Do something. Say something. Call "fire" to everyone you know.

Trailers

The Making of The Age of Stupid - watch online now
Age of Stupid site
Age of Stupid page at The Guardian with some great articles
Download the film
age of stupid tv live from Copenhagen Conference
United Nations Climate Change Conference Dec 7 - Dec 18 2009 aka Cop 15 aka The Most Important Meeting in Human History.

I'm Getting Married plus forthcoming blogs about Sheffield Doc/Fest

2009-11-27T11:40:00.002Z

I've got a good reason why I still haven't posted any interviews with filmmakers from the Sheffield Doc/Fest and that is my life has been turned upside down recently with organising my wedding, now only a few days away.

I should be used to this by now. After all I've done it twice already ;) The difference is that this time I did things the right way round. With the first two marriages, I knew they were doomed from day one but was being brainwashed by the god of nature, who was decreeing to me that I must pass on my genes with this person, so I jumped right in, got pregnant, had babies and eventually managed to jump right out again.

This time I've done things the other way round. My fiance Brian asked me to marry him eight years ago and I immediately said yes. But I waited until I knew I wasn't in some kind of nature induced genetic coma before going for the legally binding bits of paper. So, we didn't have babies but I still want to marry Brian after eight years because he's funny, caring, gentle, non-judgemental and goddamn sexy, but most telling of all, he is one those rare creatures that doesn't have a trace of bitterness in him towards anything or anyone. Although he has always declared that when Margaret Thatcher dies he will have a party and burn her effigy, for her crimes against the people of Britain and Argentina. But yet, he says it without bitterness.

So, due to wedding prep I haven't yet blogged about my favourite films from Sheffield International Documentary Film Festival, the Cannes of the documentary filmmaking world. Here's what's to come though:

"Silly", one of the people featured in Shed Your Tears and Walk Away.

During the Doc/Fest I interviewed filmmaker Jez Lewis about his desperately moving doc, "Shed Your Tears and Walk Away" which addresses the drug problem in Hebden Bridge, previously a working mill town, then an idyllic hippy enclave, now a town divided between the middle class "haves" on the sunny side of the valley, and the indiginous "have nots" on the dark, northern facing side of the valley, amongst whom drug (including the drug alchohol) problems are rife. The situation in Hebden is endemic all over Britain, and I believe this film is well ahead of its time in portraying just one small facet of a country sliding from Victorian grandeur into a mire of drugs and alcohol. Click on the view trailer link to see the trailer and read people discussing the film on the Hebden Bridge Web Forum here.

Left, producer Sami Jahnukainen, centre Doc/Fest presenter Andy Beecroft, right director Jukka Kärkkäinen.

Another film which really impressed me was The Living Room of the Nation by Mouka Filmi, directed by Jukka Kärkkäinen and produced by Sami Jahnukainen; a film featuring six different Finnish living rooms and the stories that unfold about their inhabitants. A breathtakingly beautiful and hilarious study of the fragility of human nature, I only went to see this film because I saw Sami and Jukka at the Doc/Fest on several occasions and was impressed by their body language. This is a big industry event which obviously attracts its fair share of big egos, but Sami and Jukka were modest, self-effacing and genuine. That is why I went to see their film, and I loved it. I will be interviewing them after my wedding so look out for that. If you're on facebook you can follow this blog on networkedblogs here and get a notification of new blog posts.

Poster by Martin Bedford, founder of legendary music venue The Leadmill, Sheffield

I was also blown away by Eve Wood's The Beat Is The Law Part I which has been playing to packed houses. Now it's not beyond the laws of physics to deduce that slagging off a filmmaker who makes a film that puts bums on seats show after show is going to make you look a tad foolish. Bums on seats trumps minority opinion arch debate every time. When it comes to The Beat Is The Law, I'm glad I'm in the pro camp, with the rest of the cognoscenti.

This film of course covers the very music scene I was on - Sheffield at the turn of the eighties during which time I acted in the Peter Care short Johnny Yesno, for which Cabaret Voltaire did the soundtrack. Peter has recently completely remade Johnny Yesno in his adopted hometown of LA, and the stills look amazing, can't wait to see that on its release.

I'm hoping to interview Eve about The Beat Is The Law in the New Year. Over the past few years I've blogged about my time on the turn of the eighties music scenes in Manchester, London and Sheffield in the following articles for those interested:

My tme on the turn of the eighties music scene
Turn of the eighties Manchester connection
Turn of the eighties clubbing connection
Turn of the eighties London connection
Turn of the eighties Postcard Records Connection
Johnny Yesno finally makes it onto YouTube

Vinyl cover for the Johnny Yesno soundtrack by Cabaret Voltaire. Starring me!

I was also impressed by Bastardy about one of the cast of The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith, Jack Charles, reformed heroin addict and house burglar. I chatted to Jack briefly; what a lovely bloke.

And two films I am still waiting to see:

I'm Dangerous With Love by Michel Negroponte.

"I'M DANGEROUS WITH LOVE is about addiction and rehabilitation, activism and shamanism. Dimitri Mugianis who starts out as the heavily addicted front man for the band Leisure Class ends his long drug and alcohol addiction with an experimental treatment that uses the hallucinogen ibogaine."

and Kings of Pastry by the legendary documentary team Chris Hegedus & D A Pennebaker. It was Pennebaker who in 1967 made the highly acclaimed Don't Look Back about Bob Dylan, and who with Hegedus made The War Room.

"16 French pastry chefs gathered for three intense days of mixing, piping and sculpting everything from delicate chocolates to six-foot sugar sculptures. This is the MOF (Meilleur Ouvrier de France) competition, the ultimate recognition for every pastry chef; it is a dream and an obsession. The film follows Jacquy Pfeiffer, founder of The French Pastry School in Chicago, as he returns to France to compete in this competition of extraordinary skill, nerves of steel, and luck, in hopes of being declared, by President Sarkozy, one of the Kings of Pastry. "

Now when D A Pennebaker, after only a brief exchange, casually hands you his business card, you feel very good for the rest of the morning. And when filmmaker Shane Meadows bothers to interrupt your lunch to say hello to you during the afternoon, your day is complete. I know I know, it's my work that is the cake, but these are nice little occasional cherries on top.

Talking of Shane Meadows, in the New Year I'll be joining Vimeo Pro and uploading longer pieces I've shot, including the complete Q & A with Paddy Considine, Shane Meadows and WARP FILMS producer Mark Herbert for Le Donk & Scor-Zay-Zee at Sheffield Showroom.

And finally, I didn't get to see American: The Bill Hicks Story*as it clashed with another event. I really want to see this film as Bill Hicks, alongside Lenny Bruce, is the closest thing we have to a true prophet.

*This link has audio so turn the volume off if you click it in the office.

Here is Bill Hicks' last interview. Not from the doc, but absolutely essential viewing.

Grin Up North - The Everly Pregnant Brothers

2009-11-17T19:01:00.001Z

Sheffield is fast becoming the cultural city of the North. Not only do we have the spectacular Winter Gardens and Millenium Gallery, we also host the Cannes of the documentary filmmaking world, Sheffield International Documentary Film Festival, as well as hosting Sheffield's growing comedy festival, Grin Up North.

I'll be blogging about some of the films from the Doc/Fest but as I'm getting married in just over a fortnight and organising it all myself, you'll have to give me a bit of slack on the blogging front!

In the meantime here are The Everly Pregnant Brothers, one of the country's foremost Ukulele bands. They supported Eddie Izzard and Ross Noble recently at the Sheffield City Hall for Ross Noble's charity gig in aid of Riders For Health. This charity manages and maintains motorcycles for health workers delivering lifesaving healthcare to remote communities in Africa. By ensuring health workers have access to vehicles that never break down, this charity is making sure millions of people across Africa receive regular reliable healthcare.

I filmed The Everly Pregnant Brothers busking outside Sheffield City Hall one Saturday lunchtime during Grin Up North, and here they are...

The September Issue by R.J.Cutler at Sheffield Doc/Fest 2009

2009-10-30T12:08:00.006Z

UPDATE 12th November - I've just returned from a week at the Sheffield International Documentary Film Festival, which is now being routinely referred to as the Cannes of the documentary world. I met some lovely filmmakers. Funnily enough, in nearly every case, the films I liked most were made by the warmest, most courteous filmmakers. It's about them and their work that I'll be blogging over the next few weeks. I decided not to do an interview with R.J.Cutler after attending his Q & A in which he patronisingly bit my head off for daring to ask whether having a fashion industry girlfriend had inspired his making of a fashion industry doc. Hopefully, as it was filmed, this little episode will pop up on YouTube one day.

For an alternative view of Anna Wintour, I recommend Lauren Weisberger's excellent #1 bestseller The Devil Wears Prada, featuring Miranda Priestly, the fictitious editor of the fictitious fashion rag Runway, and not really based on Anna Wintour and Vogue. No of course not.

"Since when did glamour ever equate with happiness?" - Jude Calvert-Toulmin

The September Issue's cameraman Bob Richman and model Caroline Trentini in the definitive shot from Vogue's 2007 September issue. The shot was Grace Coddington's idea and it's thanks to her that Bob's stomach retains its cameraman stomach integrity.

Left, Sheffield Doc/Fest director Heather Croall. Right, legendary fashion designer Vivienne Westwood.

The internationally acclaimed Sheffield Doc/Fest kicks off again from the 4th to the 8th of November for its fifteenth year.

One thing I particularly like about this year's programme is the highlighting of docs having been produced as a result of previous Sheffield Doc/Fest Meetmarket pitches, where filmmakers meet commissioning editors. The Meetmarket is now one of the those industry must-attends for documentary filmmakers trying to get their films off the ground. A bit like a sweetshop for documentary filmmakers. Rows and rows of jars of commissioning editors. Yummy.

Left, Grace Coddington, right, Anna Wintour.

Another highlight to this year's festival is the screening of R.J.Cutler's acclaimed documentary The September Issue.

"Fashion is a religion. This is a bible." The fashion industry cannot be serious. Oh woops, it is. Well, it's not a great big secret that religion is responsible for mass brainwashing, war and self-delusion, not to mention unhappiness, so the poster says it all really.

All the way through viewing The September Issue online here I kept thinking that this film should be called "Portrait of a Sad Lady." Anna Wintour looks perpetually sad, grim, bored and unfulfilled. But then I reminded myself that this is not an intimate portrait of the inner life of a human being, as you will find in the documentaries of Sundance award-winning documentary filmmaker Sean McAllister for example, but a portrait of a person in a powerful career position, at work.

Anna Wintour heads a huge organisation in the most bitchy industry on earth. Of course she's got to be seen to be cold and hard. She spends her working life being scrutinised, criticised and under constant attack. Any chink in the armour and she'll bleed. I don't believe for one minute that off duty she doesn't occasionally put her feet up on the sofa and roar with laughter at something funny on the tele. And even sometimes dribble food down her chin when she's eating. She's a human being for god's sake. I would have liked to have seen more of that human being, but this wasn't the documentary for it. This, as it says on the tin, is about the production of The September Issue, not an intimate portrait of Anna Wintour, human being.

Above: Grace Coddington modelling before a car crash propelled her behind the scenes.

Vogue Artistic Director Grace Coddington, who does come across as a much warmer, artistic person in the documentary, at one point says to an underling, "You must demand or you will be blamed." Yeah it's dog eat dog in the Vogue offices. There's more warmth between a bunch of starving children living in the slums of Jakarta than amongst these people in this supposed glamorous industry. But since when did glamour ever equate with happiness? Anna Wintour defends herself by stating that the fashion industry gets criticised by those who feel left out of the "cool group":

"What I often see is that people are scared of fashion — because they're frightened or insecure, so they put it down. On the whole, people who say demeaning things about our world, I think it's because they feel in some way excluded or not part of the "cool group." Just because you like to put on a beautiful Carolina Herrera dress of a pair of J Brand blue jeans instead of something basic from K-Mart doesn't mean you're a dumb person. There is something about fashion that can make people very nervous."

The very un-nervous September Issue producer/ director R.J.Cutler with "Project Runway" producer Jane Cha, also looking very un-nervous.

As TatianaTheAnonymousModel points out in the best article I've read yet about The September Issue,
"It's often those who themselves are most desperate to be taken seriously who are quickest to project "insecurity" onto others."

Just what I was thinking, Tatiana. I'm not scared of fashion. I've modelled, designed and made my own clothes, am fascinated by fabrics and can spot a Matthew Williamson from the other side of the ground floor of Debenhams, as I did with my wedding dress. But the fashion industry, whose laws are decreed not only by body fascist women like Wintour but also by gay men who want every woman to look like an adolescent male, is unhealthy and leads to millions of women being uncomfortable and unhappy with their bodies. That fundamental problem is what attracts criticism fuelled not by petty teenage jealousy through wanting to run with "the cool crowd", but genuine criticism from women of all ages. Jesus, Anna, I was a stay-at-home mother of three and now I'm a granny. You don't get cooler than that, love.

Hold on, Anna's got her work head on. She doesn't really believe in a cool crowd and she isn't really a body fascist. She's just a burd who cares about her job and to do that well, has to keep the armour polished. We can all breathe a sigh of relief. She's just like all the rest of us workaholics, only with an expensive face.*

* Ouch, that sounded bitchy. Which article am I writing again? Oh yeah. The one about the fashion industry. That's OK then.

What I loved about The September Issue apart from all of it.

The editing. Just gorgeous.
The shot of the gold fringed flapper dress.

The focus pulls.
The model laughing as she ate the tarte aux framboises.
The music. Ladytron's Destroy Everything You Touch was perfect.
Bob and the jumping model.
Grace Coddington getting the public recognition she damn well deserves.

I will be on the information desk at Sheffield Doc/Fest from 8.30am until 1.30pm for the duration of the festival, wearing my signature black Kangol beret with a different coloured swansdown bobble on it every day.

Below: Trailer for The September Issue.

Sheffield Doc/Fest site
September Issue site
The Gawker - How Grace Coddington Stole The September Issue from Anna Wintour
The Huffington Post - edited transcript of conversation between Vogue Creative Director Grace Coddington and Vogue editor Jay Fielden at a New York Public Library event ("Close-Up on Grace Coddington") on October 20, 2009.
Sheffield Doc/Fest on facebook
September Issue on facebook
Pixelwitchpictures (who took the Heather/Vivienne shot) Shipley Harley Davidson Club Calendar 2010

The 30th birthday party of Ralph Razor - Impressario, Superstar DJ & Cultural Revolutionary

2009-10-21T14:35:00.002+01:00

Sheffield and Berlin DJ, and general all round superstar Ralph Razor recently celebrated his birthday at Penelope's in Sheffield City Centre, under the Academy, formerly the legendary Roxy Disco.

I say all round superstar. That's because Ralph is one of those people who is famous by default even though the world outside Sheffield and Berlin may not know it yet; a bit like Robbie Williams was already famous before he joined Take That.

Ralph's 30th birthday party and portrait unveiling, heralded in Sheffield's Autumn Season in true Bohemian Burlesque style. Here are some pics and an interview with the man himself.

JCT: What music influenced you most when you were growing up?

RR: 80s Top of The Pops, early 90s pirate radio, my dad's cassette collection on long car journeys, the Eurovision Song Contest, and Britpop; Because I disliked it so much it forced me explore older music and got me into stuff like Bowie, Roxy Music, Sparks, The Human League and Kraftwerk.

JCT: You have social circles in both Germany and the UK due to your DJing in Berlin; What do you love about Berlin?

RR: East Berlin feels like a really exciting place at the moment, and has a strong creative vibrancy. Since the wall came down it has gone through some unique cultural changes and has a real dynamic energy. Cost of living is cheap, and so It has a high concentration of artists, and it feels like it has become a global playground in the same way that New York was in the 70s. Despite all this there are still parts of the city where it is as if the wall never came down, which are a refreshing antidote to 'uber- cool Berlin'.

Ralph at the opening night of Space Cabaret at Bang Bang Club, Berlin, summer 2009.

JCT: How did you get started DJing in Sheffield and at what age?

RR: I began DJing aged about 22. By that time, I had already amassed a huge collection of second hand charity shop vinyl and one day I got chatting about music to a guy down the pub, nicknamed 'The Chief' because he looked like the character from One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest. The Chief ran a regular Friday night at Sheffield's Barfly club and he asked me if I wanted to come and play some of my records at his night the following week, and I so I said yes.

I played for about half an hour and it went really well, until I stuck on 'This Town Ain't Big Enough For The Both Of Us' by Sparks. In my opinion I thought it was one of the greatest records ever made, but unfortunately it cleared the dancefloor. However, I didn't let this put me off, instead I decided that I wanted to start my own night where if I played a Sparks record it would fill the dancefloor!

JCT: Your 30th birthday party was a complete hoot and you looked fabulous! What inspired you to emulate Elton John's 50th birthday party Louis XIV ship in a wig look? Are you a big Elton fan or do you just love that outfit?

RR: Why thank you Jude! Actually I'm not a huge fan of Elton John's music, although I have to admit that 'Don't Go Breaking My Heart' with Kiki Dee is a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine. However I do quite like Elton's self-deprecating vulgar extravagances, and in a postmodern sense my outfit was a tongue in cheek homage to Elton John emulating Louis XIV (or was it Louis XVI ?).I also love the romanticised decadence of the French Aristocracy and the Court of The Sun King; if you can't indulge yourself on your birthday when can you?

JCT: How on earth did you manage to get hold of a replica 18th century galleon to wear in your hair at 4 hours notice?!

RR: I just put a post out on Facebook and hoped for the best. Luckily I happen to know someone who has a collection of model ships who answered my plea and kindly lent me one for the evening. (Thank you Amy!)

Ralph DJing at the book launch for my erotic novel Mother-in-Law, Son-in-Law in trademark RR.

JCT: How did it feel not to be dressed in your trademark Ralph Razor outfit?

RR: I decided that for my party I had to wear something that would not only upstage everybody else at the party, but I also had to upstage the life-sized portrait of myself. It felt good, but I'm not sure how practical it would be for everyday wear...

JCT: You unveiled your new portrait at your party. Can you tell us a bit about the portrait? Was it painted from a photograph or did you sit for it? How did you choose the artist?

RR: In actual fact the artist chose me; he has also painted a portrait of the Head of Sheffield City Council, so I am in esteemed company (or not, depending on how you see things). He is called Andy Cropper and paints fully representational portraits using layer upon layer of oil paints. It's quite a lengthy process and it took around 3 months to complete my portrait. It was painted initially from a photograph but I sat a few times for Andy so he could finish it off and get some extra detail. See his website: http://artbyandyonline.com/

When Andy began the painting, I realised that it would be finished just in time for my 30th birthday so I decided I would add a Dorian Gray-esque twist to things and stage the grand unveiling on the night of my party.

JCT: What were your favourite things about your party?

The people mainly; I invited a lot of old friends that I don't see very often so it was lovely to catch up with them, and all my presents of course. Also the fact that so many people took such great photographs, so at least I can look back and cringe at how disgracefully drunk I got.

JCT: What do you love about Sheffield?

RR: It's full of people with a healthy level of cynicism who like to do things unconventionally, but don't take themselves too seriously.

Debora D'Luxe, proprietor of Voodoo Rockers who sell psychobilly, rockabilly, goth and fetish gear. © Jacqui Bellamy of Pixelwitch Pictures

JCT: What do you think of the Sheffield music scene at the moment?

RR: It's starting to look fairly interesting again. There are a couple of exciting new girl groups emerging at the moment...

JCT: And the Sheffield clubbing scene?

RR: It feels a little fragmented at the moment as if it's going through a bit of a transition period and is waiting for something new to come along and blow everything away, but there are still some great nights happening such as Club Pony.

JCT: Do you have many connections with the music/clubbing scenes in Manchester and London? If so how, and how do they compare to what's going on in Sheffield at the moment?

RR: Most of my connections are in London at the moment. London is always going to be a more fast-paced scene and have a quicker turnover of club nights than Sheffield. Successful nights in London tend to burn brighter but are invariably superseded a lot quicker as everyone is always looking for the next cool place to hang out and be seen. Whereas in Sheffield if people like something, then they will support if, and if you win them over, they tend to be a fairly loyal crowd.

JCT: What are the best and worst things about living smack bang in the centre of town?

RR: Best thing: Most things are practically on your doorstep, so you don't have to go very far.

Worst thing: It makes you lazy...

JCT: Where do you want to be and what do you want to be doing in 10 years time?

RR: Not sure; (probably) doing something different, (possibly) somewhere else...if I knew what I wanted to be doing in 10 years time, I'd be doing it now.

Ralph Razor DJing at the book launch for my erotic novel Mother-in-Law, Son-in-Law, Sheffield, 2009.

JCT: What's your idea of a perfect meal with friends?

RR: A series of 'Come Dine With Me' style dinner parties....

Thanks for a great party, Ralph! :)

Robert Kirby, arranger and musician RIP

2009-10-08T13:33:00.005+01:00

Robert Kirby: "I'm a bit of a luddite, I'm a bit old-fashioned. I studied classical music in the sixties and I read music at Cambridge University...I still write with manuscript paper at a table, not at an instrument. I write like, I was going to say like Beethoven but nobody writes as good as Beethoven in the same way, and I'm not dead."

Robert Kirby, who passed away this week, was an old friend of Nick Drake's from Cambridge Uni and arranged the majority of Five Leaves Left, as well as touring on keyboard with The Strawbs and working with Paul Weller and Elvis Costello.

"The first strong memory I have of Nick was at the second or third session for Five Leaves Left. Richard Hewson, a well known arranger, and a fifteen piece orchestra had been brought in to arrange Nick's songs. Nick started getting hotter and hotter under the collar. He was very young and he had struck me as a person you could push about -- some people in a recording session will do whatever you tell them -- but he was getting quietly more and more aggravated, and in the end he dug his heels in and dismissed the arrangements. He said he'd get this friend at Cambridge, Robert Kirby, he thought would be much more sympathetic to what he was doing. Robert had never before done anything in his life in a recording studio. But two weeks later we booked him together with a bunch of musicians- a smaller bunch than the first time, I remember... We were flabbergasted. He was so good."

John Wood, sound engineer for Five Leaves Left.

Further from Robert Kirby's Wiki entry:

"On 2 July 2005, Kirby conducted an 18-piece orchestra in Manhattan's Central Park for a show of Drake's music, using his original scores. Five Leaves Left was performed in its entirety as well as excerpts from Bryter Later and Made To Love Magic. The show starred guitarist Josh Max and singer Julie James of the Manhattan-based group The Maxes, and was attended by 3,000 Drake fans from all over the US."

Below: Interview with Robert Kirby. (If you shot this firstly thank you and secondly please email me so I can credit you and give you a link.)

Below: Recording session for the string parts of the song "This Life" from Luke Jackson's album "...And Then Some" at the Aerosol Grey Machine recording studio in Sweden. Robert Kirby conducts the October 2nd strings - nine players from Malmö's Opera Orchestra. Christoffer Lundquist is producing. More about this occasion on Luke's MySpace blog.

Further reading:
Interview with Robert Kirby by nickdrake.com's Matt Hutchinson
The Guardian Obituary

Le Donk and Scor-Zay-Zee pre-release screenings and Q & As

2009-10-02T10:39:00.008+01:00

Update Tuesday 6th October.

"Shane Meadows is the godfather of the Fuck It Let's Do It movement of filmmaking." Jude Calvert-Toulmin.

I went to see one of the pre-release screenings of Le Donk and Scor-Zay-Zee last night and it is ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT! It is going to be a massive cult hit and is one day going to take its place alongside Withnail & I, Spinal Tap, Dark Star and Harold and Maude as one of the top cult films of all time (in my opinion.) I filmed the Q & A with Shane Meadows, Paddy Considine and Warp's Mark Herbert afterwards, which I will YouTube and put on here, Shane's forum and Paddy's forum asap.

I finally met Shane IRL (in real life) too and what a great bloke. He has got one of those two-tone auras with more than two-tones. Mainly a huge aura of humanity, but shot through with strength, compassion, and "Don't fuck with me." Yeah. So influenced am I by the film already that I talked to the cats as Le Donk whilst I was feeding them this morning. They ignored me and carried on nicking each other's Whiskas as normal which is proof this film is going to be HUGE, see?

Shane has read my blog in the past and said he likes my quote section (see right sidebar) so I have thought up a new quote all about him and added it this morning, just for all the people in LA who regularly read this blog. One day the powers that be in Hollywood may wake up to the fact that entertaining, low budget filmmaking whose main resource is the human spirit, is actually better than multi-billion dollar action-filled climactic-strewn yawn fests.

Update end. Q & A coming soon...

As regular readers of the blog will know, Shane Meadows is my favourite film director. (Living that is. Kubrick's dead.)

His music mockumentary Le Donk & Scor-Zay-Zee, shot in 5 days on a budget of £48,000, is opening in cinemas nationally on the 9th October and is available on DVD on the 26th October, but before then Shane and actor Paddy Considine are touring Britain for pre-release screenings at various independent cinemas, with Q & As afterwards.

Paddy, whose acting is way up there on the Robert Duvall level (check out Shane's Dead Man's Shoes to see why) and who is also a writer/director in his own right, is giving an acting masterclass at BAFTA in London on the 8th October. This is sold out but there are some tickets on the door. If I was in London I would queue for 5 hours to get in to that. Paddy's site is here.

Back to Le Donk, and as of Thursday 1st October there were still tickets available for The Showroom, Sheffield screening at 8pm Monday 5th October. Previews at The Curzon, London and The Electric, Birmingham, have sold out but there are more details of this whistlestop tour on this thread on Shane's forum where you can enquire about tickets for these pre-opening screenings and Q & As in your area.

National press and blog articles about Le Donk can be found on the home page of shanemeadows.co.uk here.

This film is of course going to be absolutely brilliant. I posted a trailer for Le Donk in my last blog entry, about singer/songwriter Gavin Clark, whose work appears in the soundtracks of many of Shane's films, and who is the subject of Shane's documentary The Living Room, and here is the Le Donk trailer again...

The Power of Music

2009-09-23T16:00:00.008+01:00

Edwyn Collins, Rafters, Manchester, 1981

This has been a strange week for me. I have been deeply moved by two musicians whose work is very dear to my heart; moved though, in different ways, both ways demonstrating the power of music.

Gavin Clark

I heard this week that Gavin Clark, ex of Clayhill and Sunhouse, and whose work is included in many of the soundtracks of BAFTA award winning film director Shane Meadows (This Is England, Dead Man's Shoes, Le Donk, Somers Town) is giving up writing and performing his own music. Gavin has talked publicly in the past about suffering from severe depression; whether this is behind his decision to quit or not, I infer that there must be some suffering behind it. In my opinion (and I'm not alone) he is the most gifted singer songwriter of our times. When I heard the news that he'd quit, I burst into tears. Not so much for the loss to the world of his music, but for whatever he must be going through to make such a decision.

After hearing Gavin's cover of The Smith's "Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want" at the close of This Is England, I interviewed him for this blog and then met him the following year when he was touring with UNKLE, and I turned up before a gig in Manchester in order to take some photos. Well, a nicer person you couldn't wish to meet.

Me and Gavin Clark backstage at UNKLE, The Academy, Manchester, 15.11.07

Bemused by my unannounced and bouncy presence, he was helpful, polite and courteous. But I have always taken photographs for posterity, despite the often excrutiating embarrassment involved in taking them at the time, as then. However I knew I had to take some photographs of Gavin Clark now, so I did.

Gavin Clark backstage at UNKLE, The Academy, Manchester, 2007

Polaroid of two teen pop mags with Edwyn on the cover. 1982

A few days after hearing about Gavin, I saw a documentary on BBC4 (Edwyn Collins Home Again, viewable until Friday 25th September on BBCi player ) about singer songwriter Edwyn Collins, formerly of the 80s band Orange Juice, the pioneering band, along with Aztec Camera and Josef K, behind The Sound of Young Scotland and indy label Postcard Records.

Edwyn's illustration of a Redwing. November 2005.

After a period of being the coolest underground band in the UK (and my favourite band, naturally) Orange Juice signed with a major label and went on to produce more mainstream pop, before Edwyn found international fame and acclaim with his 1994 hit "A Girl Like You", which was featured in the films Empire Records and Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle, and for "Magic Piper of Love", a 1997 single that featured on the soundtrack of Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery.

Edwyn at the Mojo Awards 2008.

In February 2005, Edwyn suffered a cerebral hemhorrhage and nearly died, but after a life saving operation and a long period of neurological rehabilition he is slowly recovering, to the point where he is now gigging again, has produced and starred in a Channel 4 sitcom, West Heath Yard, and in April 2009 had a book of his illustrations, Some British Birds, published.

Edwyn's illustration of Blackcaps, April 2008.

Edwyn and I were not only born two weeks apart, we had our first books published a few months apart too! Oh, and for a short while during the early eighties, Edwyn and I went out together, but he already had his sights set on his future wife Grace Maxwell, and our short fling fizzled out quickly and amicably. And it is a testament to the support of both his wife Grace and son Will that Edwyn has come so far with his recovery in so relatively short a time. If you get a chance, do watch this documentary about Edwyn's struggle to overcome the disabilities resulting from his stroke through his dogged determination and the remarkable love and support of Grace and Will.

So, for a second time this week I was moved to tears (actually, for a third. The first was counting up the devastation after my son's 14th birthday party. One leather sofa, one bloody expensive illuminated keyboard and one cherished beer festival glass which was allegedly full of Irn Bru.)

A note from Edwyn left outside my squat, "Ozark Mansion Cellars" in Kensal Rise, early 1982. Click to enlarge and read in its full tabloid glory.
© Jude Calvert-Toulmin. Or Edwyn Collins. Not sure.

Edwyn recently admitted that as a youth he was arrogant. Well, let's face it, arrogance is usually a part of youth. And humble isn't the first adjective I would use to describe the Edwyn I used to know and be fond of, as it wouldn't be for anyone who knows him, including himself, I'm sure! He was funny, both on his own and when bantering with the rest of the band, courteous and, of course, brilliant, but not humble.

However for me, the most moving aspect of Edwyn Collins Home Again, is that through struggling along the path life has chosen for him, Edwyn has achieved what is possibly the greatest height a human being can reach as a person, which is humility. His eyes still shine with defiance and determination as always, but now those qualities are tempered by humility; he has been completely transformed by his experience. When asked during the documentary what he missed about his old life, he thought for a moment and then said "Nothing." This is not the gorgeous, strutting pop star Edwyn of old. This is someone on a far higher human level, someone for whom, along with his wife and son, I have the deepest respect.

The tragedy of Gavin Clark deciding to stop making his own music is that, in my opinion, Gavin has somehow already reached that pinnacle of humility, and it is from that well of humility, pain and suffering that springs the greatest creative achievements. According to Shane Meadows, one of Gavin's closest friends, Gavin hasn't ruled out writing for other people. Shane's short film The Living Room, a documentary about Gavin featuring gigs performed in people's living rooms, has just had an open-air premiere at Sheffield's Park Hill Flats, along with a screening of the extraordinary filmmaker Jonathan Caouette's All Tomorrow's Parties, as part of Warp Films' hugely successful Warp20 weekend in Sheffield.

Gavin Clark live at The Chapel, Islington, December 2008

The people who appreciate Gavin Clark's work are not going to simply forget about him now that he's decided to stop making music, just as Edwyn's fans have not forgotten about him, as you can see from his MySpace and Facebook. Maybe at some point in the future, if Gavin doesn't want to write his own music, he could collaborate with Edwyn.

A little bit of trivia to finish. When I first got to know Orange Juice, their manager, Alan Horne, promptly sent them round to my pad in NW6 for tea. I already knew that the band, and Postcard Records, were going to go down in musical history, and I'd just started taking pictures of bands and freelancing for the music press. But I didn't take any pictures of Orange Juice at that first meeting. Naively, I honestly thought the band had just come round for a cup of tea. I had no idea that I was perceived as "someone" or a useful connection. So instead of grasping this opportunity, instead I made the lads apricot pavlovas and we sat and ate those with a cup of tea in my front room. I didn't have a career head on me in those days, I just wanted to be a homemaker and make cakes for my friends.

Despite the fact that I'm now an author, publisher and company director, not much has changed really. I'm not a fanatical workaholic, unlike Alan Horne, who through his ingenuity and scheming managed to bring The Sound of Young Scotland to so many ears.

You can see Alan Horne tipping out all the Postcard Records fan mail onto the office floor in the documentary Caledonia Dreamin', available to view on BBCi until Friday 25th September 2009. Horne's attitude sums up everything I loathe about the music industry, whereas Edwyn and Gavin sum up everything I love about the power of music.

Gavin Clark live at The Chapel, Islington, December 2008

Edwyn Collins Home Again on BBCi

The recently formed new Gavin Clark MySpace

Shane Meadows website and forum

Edwyn Collins website

Guardian interview with Edwyn Collins by Simon Goddard

Defining the sound of Young Scotland - BBC article.

Caledonia Dreamin' on BBCi (includes footage and coverage of The Associates)

Below: To finish on a light and fabulous note: Trailer for Shane Meadows' Le Donk.

Crash - new non-fiction book from Fleur De Lys Publishing Ltd. Stories needed.

2009-09-15T12:13:00.001+01:00

"This resolution can mark the moment when the world's community looks out at the suffering and the grief and the cost of road crashes and decides to end it. This is in our power to do. We have the tools, we have the knowledge and we have the means. What we have to do now is act."

Lord George Robertson, Chair, Commission for Global Road Safety, March 2008.

Jacqueline Saburido, victim of a drunk driver.

On Saturday 19th September 2009, it will be 10 years since Jacqueline Saburido narrowly survived a crash caused by a drunken driver, suffering horrific burns in the process. Jacqueline is one of 20-50 million people injured every year in road crashes.

Many people regard it their right to drive their car however dangerously they choose, and much of society still ignores this. Cars are killing machines, but are still not generally regarded as such. Imagine hundreds of giant machetes hurtling up and down the road, manoevred by human beings many of whom are unable or unwilling to control their beloved machete. That paints a slightly more disturbing picture of our roads but one that dulls our senses into complacency a little less than rows and rows of shiny cars.

Fleur De Lys Publishing, the publishing company of which I am a director, are researching a non-fiction book comprising the stories of survivors of fatal car crashes. If you have a story you want to tell and are happy for it to be possibly included then please contact me here.

It was the following incident that set me off thinking about road crashes and the devastating effects they have on peoples' lives.

In 2005 my partner Brian and I were being driven from an airport in Spain by a supposed friend who swore he had given up drinking and was clean. He was drunk, and the car in which he was driving us started veering off the main carriageway of the motorway on which we were travelling. I was terrified, but this time, there was no accident, although we later witnessed this man pulling into a duel carriageway in front of an articulated lorry, and having to swerve to avoid a collision. (He is still out there in Spain, drinking and driving, by the way, and his remaining friends are still turning a blind eye to his drunk driving.)

These incidents set me off thinking about road crashes and the devastating effects they have on peoples' lives. Although commonly referred to as RTAs, or road traffic accidents, crashes are often the result of human error or impaired ability through consumption of drugs, including the drug alcohol. In the US, approximately 40% of all motor vehicle fatalities are alcohol-related.

In 2008 there were 2,538 fatalities in the UK alone from road crashes. The global figure is 1.3 million deaths, a toll comparable to malaria and tuberculosis, according to the Executive Summary from the United Nations General Assembly Session on Global Road Safety which took place on March 31st, 2008.

From the 2008 resolution summary:

"Low‐ and middle‐income countries are disproportionately impacted; more than 85% of all fatalities and injuries occur in the developing world.

"Tragically, children are often the victims particularly in low‐ and middle‐income countries. Road traffic fatalities are the number one killer of children aged 10‐24, and 96% of these children are dying on roads in developing nations. The trend is predicted to continue and to accelerate, fueled by the rapid motorization that accompanies development.

"Road traffic crashes consume 1‐2% of GNP for most countries. The World Health Organization estimates annual worldwide economic costs at USD $518 billion ‐ a total that equals or exceeds annual bilateral overseas aid. Although this is a global epidemic, there is no coordinated global response and many developing nations lack the capacity to prevent these very preventable deaths and injuries."

Lord George Robertson, Chair, Commission for Global Road Safety concluded:

"This resolution can mark the moment when the world's community looks out at the suffering and the grief and the cost of road crashes and decides to end it. This is in our power to do. We have the tools, we have the knowledge and we have the means. What we have to do now is act."

Cars are a relatively new addition to the landscape of human experience, which is why it is taking time for society to wake up to the damage and suffering they are causing. I believe we should all look at what tools we have at our disposal to act, and use them. I run a publishing company, so what I can do is publish peoples' stories in the hope that it will make others think about driving more responsibly.

I also do not have a car. I walk, cycle or use public transport.

Jacqueline Saburido's story as told by David Hafetz

Jude Calvert-Toulmin

Instagram iphoneography and extragram

Mercy from Frontier Media on DVD

Vodafone and Goldman Sachs - The Great British Tax Scandal - Petition

Brian Trevelyan's Happy Cat about Travis, the cat who found us.

Sinéad O'Connor

The Lemonheads It's A Shame About Ray tour. Sheffield,The Plug.

The Fine Art of Plugging

NORTHERN LIGHTS NOVEMBER: JOHNNY DAWES "FULL OF MYSELF"

NORTHERN LIGHTS YULETIDE PARTY

Mother-in-Law, Son-in-Law now on Kindle only 99cents!

eBay record collection ad listing for crap music

Another great Amazon review for My Adventures in Cyberspace

My husband, streaking when he was 18

Body Shop Perfume Oil Discontinued: Customers Boycotting Store

My Adventures in Cyberspace Amazon 5 star reviews

The Mystery of The Sax Solo on Gerry Rafferty's Baker Street

2010 - The Year Self-Publishing Lost Its Stigma

Jude Calvert-Toulmin performing the explicit poem "She Wouldn't Be So Vain" at Speakeasy, Sheffield, 2010

She Wouldn't Be So Vain As To Think This Poem Is About Her But It Isfrom jude calvert-toulmin on Vimeo.

A Heroine For The Internet Age - Review of My Adventures in Cyberspace

NORTHERN LIGHTS - Sheffield's New Spoken Word Night

Facebook Fan Page Launch Saturday 16th October

Jude Calvert-Toulmin Facebook Fan Page

Jude Calvert-Toulmin, Jack Clayton from Jack and the Beanstalks at Speakeasy, Sheffield

The Fex Wagner Guide To Picking Liberty Cap Magic Mushrooms

The Wings Of Love by Stephen Pearson

Finestrat's famous pie, Coca Xira, or Coca Girada.

Sensoria Festival of Film and Music 2010

Recipe for Brian's Brown Sauce

Sade limited edition prints.

Le Donk & Scor-Zay-Zee Q & A, Sheffield, October 2009

Farmville by Zynga - don't diss it till you've tried it. In fact, don't diss it or else...

Interview with Al DuVernay of The Age of Stupid.

John Redhead - A Cathar Forensic and Dead Room Chiseller Exhibitions

Al DuVernay writes about Hurricane Katrina

Interview with Jude Calvert-Toulmin - The Causes and Effects of Ageism on Women

Davy Crockett Hats - They will be everywhere in winter 2010...

The Age of Stupid - Dancing like our house isn't on fire.

I'm Getting Married plus forthcoming blogs about Sheffield Doc/Fest

Grin Up North - The Everly Pregnant Brothers

The September Issue by R.J.Cutler at Sheffield Doc/Fest 2009

The 30th birthday party of Ralph Razor - Impressario, Superstar DJ & Cultural Revolutionary

Robert Kirby, arranger and musician RIP

Le Donk and Scor-Zay-Zee pre-release screenings and Q & As

The Power of Music

Crash - new non-fiction book from Fleur De Lys Publishing Ltd. Stories needed.

She Wouldn't Be So Vain As To Think This Poem Is About Her But It Is

from jude calvert-toulmin on Vimeo.