If the experience of playing a game is intended, for the most part, to be joyful, then consider that the experience of attempting to create a game – from scratch – involves much wailing and gnashing of teeth. Planning and brain-bashing for the Larkin' About and Library Theatre Company commission continues. How to estimate a duration and end point, to avoid fatigue or boredom? If I don’t want one winner and many losers, how do I gently console those who don’t complete the requirements, whilst still celebrating those who do? Are themes of memory, loss, mourning and the silent cry of purgatorial souls suitable material for a playful treatment involving balloons? What of unknown latex allergies? Ai-ai-ai. Still, the initial shape is done. The play test awaits. My craft box has a few more items I am unlikely ever to use again, but on the plus side I have some lovely Ladybird books purchased as ‘research’. Here is an image from a bison hunt, which may have something to do with the work in progress. Oh, and I have a name for it at last.

Prairieland.

I submitted two ideas, both of which they liked although I must now choose one to take forward, responding to a couple of obscure but fascinating lesser-known subjects relating to the city's past, as I wanted to avoid the usual suspects (industrialisation, sport, Engels, votes for women, the Baby computer etc. no disrespect to any of these areas intended!) The process will include a game mechanics workshop, one-to-one mentoring, play-testing and of course the delivery itself.

It's going to be a wonderful start to 2012!

The result is that within minutes of starting such a tour, most of those present have retreated to a safe space in their heads, the better to shut out the white noise that fills the gallery. A brave few might discreetly linger in mock-interest at a specific work, subsequently edging towards the exit, whilst the remainder dutifully file around making a mental note not to make the mistake of signing up to such a bore-fest again.

I’d had enough. While there is certainly still a place to hear direct from the artist or persons behind a show, especially for those able and willing to push past the veil of intimidation, it’s hardly suitable for encouraging a more personal response from those less familiar with the whizz-bang-snooze of verbal pyrotechnics. I wanted a tour guide for those who still needed stabilizers attaching to their cultural bike ride until they’d got the hang of sudden gusts of hot air.

Someone like a Mum, or a batty Aunt, who knew even less about the work on display than they did, but wasn’t afraid to speak their mind or submit an opinion.

Mrs Barbara Nice / image by Emma Case (copyright)

One specific person came to mind. I didn’t want to consider anyone else. I got in touch with Mrs Barbara Nice, the comic creation of Janice Connolly, star of Phoenix Nights, Coronation Street, Max and Paddy’s Road to Nowhere and tour support for Peter Kay. Barbara is a fictional Stockport housewife and mother of five, immune to false graces and after rearing her own brood, unshockable. I asked is she would lead a walkaround our current exhibition by artist Rashid Rana. She replied. She said she’d do it... but would it work? Or would we simply end up firing cheap shots at the usual modern art targets?

The tour was a sell-out (although free), raised to 45 people from the standard 30 due to demand, with repeat requests for a waiting list. On the afternoon itself Barbara set to work sweeping through the arrival area in full leopard-print and giant handbag, with a “Hiya, howya doin’?”, before grading the participants by coat colour. Purple was heavily evidenced. The more chatty individuals were quickly identified and gently prodded (Iris, the vegan who couldn’t stop touching the artwork, and Mickey, who wasn’t afraid to proffer an opinion), while others were gently encouraged to offer their own thoughts up and comments.

Despite a planned running-time of just 40 minutes, the tour went on for a record breaking 1 hour 40 minutes. As part of the experience we forbade anyone from reading the wall text or guides and simply shoot from the hip. We talked of colour and shade, of a geographic sense of place, the representation of flesh and violence, power dynamics, role of women, stereotypes, false knowledge and honest response, pictography, pixellation and porn. All while Barbara fussed, cajoled and supported even the quietest members of the group to have confidence in their own thoughts.

The tour culminated in Gallery 3: An Idea of Abstract, and the mammoth pay-off that is the giant, sculptural mirage of Desperately Seeking Paradise II. But instead of trying to shape a cursory summary to our humble journey, talk leaned toward cleaning solutions for this mammoth dust magnet. Feather dusters were duly distributed, and everyone pitched in with a light sweep and flick to ensure the work stayed looking tip-top. Afterwards everyone was encouraged to write postcards to the artist himself, with all those present unanimous in urging future tours that avoid belittling participants and encourage discussion.

I hope to bring Barbara back and team up again, I enjoyed playing the straight man in my prop ‘clever glasses’ to her kitchen sink wisdom. As for Barbara’s own postcard to Rashid, it read as follows:

“Dear Rashid, I’d be happy to do this tour for you in Pakistan. P.S. My passport is up to date!”

Thanks to Cornerhouse Digital Reporter Ben Williams who wrote up his experience of the event here. Thanks also to photographer Emma Case for the use of her wonderful shot of Barbara with the purple balloons above!

You the public are invited to sit inside the booth as if for a photograph and make a donation to an artist through an anonymous slot in return for a self-portrait. Wait five minutes (give or take) and the image will appear in the side wall, accompanied by the warm blast of a travel hairdryer. If you hanker for that still-wet sensation, they may even lick it for you. It could be a pencil drawing, doodle, cartoon, collage or even word-poem. Take it, frame it, consider it. Now you are both patron and muse!

Launching for Art Night on Thursday 24th November until Sunday 4th December 2011. News of additional activity including film screening and Cornerhouse Projects exhibition to follow. Please see booth for timings.

ARTISTS WANTED!

North-West and Manchester based artists are required to join our Sketch-O-Matic rota in one-hour slots. Lunchtime slots (1 - 2pm) and evening slots (6pm - 10pm). We're looking for pencil drawings, pastels, watercolours, illustrators, cartoonists, cubists, doodlers, poets (for word portraits), collage, ink-blot, dried pasta decoupage and just about any zany or straight-laced style you can imagine... as long as it can be dashed off in approximately 5 minutes. There is, I'm afraid, one exception. No caricaturists. We don't want anyone to walk away feeling crappy about themselves because you've managed to exaggerate a slight mole into a volcanic eruption on the scale of Eyjafjallajökull. Please contact bren@cornerhouse.org or via this website if you'd like to take part!

Miss Suzy P at the NUDE stall

It was a well-attended affair in Victoria Baths, Manchester at the weekend, held within a handsome Victorian swimming palace, now ongoing restoration project and community hub. Both the Victoria Baths Fanzine Convention and FutureEverything Handmade maker fair set up shop to provide a double-whammy, with associated art installations, live performance, screenings and workshops. It’s been a while since I was last in the building and the continuing repairs are looking spectacular.

Zine and print booty

I made the classic mistake of failing to do a full perambulation of the zine stalls, the primary purpose of my trip, before deciding upon what to buy. This meant that I ran out of money by the half-way point, but I still bagged a rich haul of booty in the process. I’m especially pleased with a series of geometric hand-pulled prints from artist Catherine Chialton, the work of local collectives OWT Creative and Ultimate Holding Company, plus the discovery of the waspish and well-written queer zine Pink Mince.

Antony Hall: Physical Oscillators

I sat and chatted with my oldest pal Suzy P (we went to University in Newcastle together, back when Jesus was a lad), who was there to represent her print baby NUDE; an independent magazine she edits with her partner Ian Lowey, covering alt-culture, indie, retro, design, music, comics and a whole lot more besides. I wrote a feature on Lomography for their very first issue. I’m pleased to say she had a great day – check out their exclusive Rachel Ortas Ai Ai creature prints, only a few remaining!

Antony Hall: Physical Oscillators

Over in the Gala Pool, VB Arts hosted an installation by local resident and artist Antony Hall, Physical Oscillators, continuing his research into oscillators to generate sound and visible patterns in a new kinetic artwork. Using the gyroscopic action of motors and fans to create a sensory walkthrough environment reflecting the behavior of small swimming or flying insects, visitors could descend the steps into the dry pool and walk amongst fan assisted blue-blurred pendulums.

Antony Hall: Wave Pendulum

In the antechamber to the café, Wave Pendulum consisted of a series of simple kitchen jars filled with water, lids firmly attached and strung from the ceiling at equal spacing. An invigilator used a plank of wood to push them off in a generous sideswing, following which a morphing waveform emerged that at first appeared ordered, snakelike even, but then increasingly abstracted. It put me in mind of the forthcoming group show Constellations at my new employment, Cornerhouse, which responds to movement, ephemerality and chance, but more on that in another post…

]]> http://www.brenocallaghan.co.uk/2011/05/victoria-baths-fanzine-convention/feed/ 0 http://www.brenocallaghan.co.uk/2010/12/we-come-in-peace/ http://www.brenocallaghan.co.uk/2010/12/we-come-in-peace/#comments Tue, 21 Dec 2010 11:42:12 +0000 bren http://www.brenocallaghan.co.uk/?p=2105 Some lovely pics coming through from our seasonal sci-fi storytelling event, Swamp Planet Christmas, from snapper and food stylist Kim May. Although Martian Santa looks as though he's about to dislocate his jaw to swallow the nearest human child, he was actually a lovely fella/bearded self-replicating hermaphrodite, even if he did initiate a covert invasion plan by distributing small baby Martians as gifts. Full review, more photos, author listings and story titles here.

Design: Pete Adlington

Pete 'will work for booze' Adlington pulls it out of the bag again with this curling paperback inspired design to accompany my forthcoming reading event at The International Anthony Burgess Foundation (with maybe a guest appearance from you-know-who). Ticket sales are already underway for Swamp Planet Christmas so don't delay. You don't need to be a sci-fi geek, it's for anyone and everyone (although maybe not kids... they get so much anyway, the greedy little buggers). It will all be over by 8pm - time enough to continue carousing or head home with a warm, radioactive glow in good time for bed. Typically for me, some shall we say 'strange' elements are starting to creep in. I can't leave things as they are, always interfering...

Design: Pete Adlington

Instead of Victorian ghost stories or Dickensian gloom, we'll be reading from vintage pulp sci-fi and speculative fiction. Hopefully this might inject that sense of awe, majesty and wonder so sorely lacking. Christmas on alien worlds? You betcha. Warring high-tech toys? Tick. The true meaning of the holidays as interpreted by a sentient Cidorian jellyfish? It's all there. Tickets for Swamp Planet Christmas: Seasonal Stories from Outer Space are now on sale at only £3 and limited in number, the price simply covering some basic costs, so join us on Thursday 16th December at 6.30pm for a glass of wine, a gingerbread space rocket and an hour of grown-up storytelling.

image: Neil Shearer

An account of Cornerhouse's 25th birthday celebrations featuring Scratch 'n Sniff Cinema presents The Goonies, is now online. The retro colour-drenched photos are provided by local photographer Neil Shearer. Memories of the night include Debbie Chan as mostly hopeless inventor Data from the movie, who gets my vote as the costume-I-most-want-to-copy using plastic pound store finds, while smells including choc-mint ice cream and pepperoni pizza were perhaps the most effective yet!

Elsa Manchester / image: WeAreTape

Anyone still reading this blog will be sick of my Midnight Mass updates by now, but this really is it - until some new video clips come though at least! My review of the evening, detailing the horror that ensued and a picture of the now-infamous pool of upchuck that appeared once the film began is now live. Read it and weep.