(Not) Saturday Snapshots #1

At the risk of infringing copyright and facing the wrath of Rol's lawyers, I refrained from calling today's blogpost Saturday Snapshots. However, the snapshots below were all taken today, Saturday. So I guess by any metric that makes them Saturday snapshots; though definitely not Saturday Snapshots. Oh no. These Saturday snapshots are 100% not Saturday Snapshots. I'm glad I've cleared that up.

Control Tower, Tollerton Airport

Approaching Hockley

Hole in the Wall

Nottingham goes all Coronation Street

Hucknall Road, Sherwood

So there you have it. Out and about with my camera on a sunny Saturday taking snapshots. Saturday snapshots, you could say. But not Saturday Snapshots. Phew, I think I got away with it.

I Love Lucid

Imagine waking up from a lucid dream and being able to paint from memory everything you saw and experienced in the dream. The paintings of Edward Hopper to me look like fragments of a dream where everything is real, and where nothing is real. Remote buildings; mostly empty. Individuals; generally portrayed as lonely and isolated in equally isolated urban cityscapes. They kind of look like regular places but are like no town or city you can remember having visited.

Here's a little exercise I did recently using a bit of human/machine collaboration (AI to you): I 'asked' it to interpret buildings and places I know (some still with us, some long since demolished) and generate images (without providing photographs) in the style of a Hopper painting. The final images conjure up a world where, just like a lucid dream where you know you're dreaming and not actually living in this place and, despite every effort you make to, for instance, read a line of text from a book or a sign on a building, the words don't really make sense. As you can see from a couple of the images below, it's a similar principle.

I often have breakfast at the Warsaw Diner on a Saturday morning. This version of my favourite diner takes it into a whole new dimension. Am I in this version of the eaterie with these lost souls (nighthawks)? I could be. But why is it dark? And where is the friendly Polish lady that always greets me from behind the counter like a member of her family? Wait a minute, where's the bloody counter? I guess what I'm saying is, where's the friendly daytime vibe gone?

The football ground is interesting. I know Meadow Lane, where Notts County have been plying their trade since 1862, but this is not it. The lettering on the main stand is nearly right, but not quite (on one of the images anyway), and the advertising hoardings make no sense whatsoever. Again, the positioning of individuals on the pitch are all wrong. What are they doing, and why are the floodlights are in the wrong place? (One of them is in the back garden of a house that doesn't even exist); that would really bug me. And yet it's a ground I now want to go to. I belong there. Drop me in this painting and I may never come back.

The ABC cinema on Long Row was an old haunt of mine before the wrecking ball paid it a visit in the 1990s. It was always a bit scuzzy, not a fleapit exactly, but it had seen better days. In this reimagined picture house, rebranded here as the ABOC(!), I immediately feel an affinity with both it and its surroundings. Again, beam me up here and, even though I can't for the life of me work out what they're showing (Siult Ack Tone?), I'd certainly sit in the doubles and give it a go.

And finally, Nottingham's iconic Council House. It's famous lions that sit either side (including our beloved Left Lion) have seemingly strolled off somewhere. Oh, and Market Square has been totally airbrushed out of this particular dream; leaving this most imposing of buildings almost totally in shadow (textbook Hopper). And the red brick building on the corner - as most red brick buildings in Hopper's work - is a bit of a tease; what secrets lie behind its walls and windows? Or in this case, what (or who) lurks around the corner? 

I need to visit this parallel version of the place I call home. A whole new world awaits.

Johnny, David & Bruce

Johnny Pearson, anyone? The name conjures up a formidable centre half; a journeyman who turned out for QPR, Luton Town, Bournemouth and latterly Wimbledon. He would probably have picked up a couple of U-21 caps for England along the way. And then the inevitable calf injury that forced his early retirement from the game. All very plausible but, alas, incorrect. Johnny Pearson was, as I'm sure many of you already know, a musician's musician. Band leader, arranger, composer - he was Mr. Top of the Pops for fifteen years straight (1966-81) conducting the TOTP Orchestra. One of his many other claims to fame was being one of KPM's foot soldiers - writing and recording quality off the peg library music which often ended up being used for TV themes and or incidental music. I listen to his stuff often and am constantly blown away by the range and diversity of his recorded output. In this his centenary year I'd like to drop a couple of his tunes that everyone will know. First up, who can forget Sleepy Shores. 1970s goggle boxers will know it as the theme to Owen MD but, as any crate digger will tell you, it really is a stand alone loungecore classic. 

Johnny Pearson & His Orchestra - Sleepy Shores (1972)

The second one I've chosen harks back to a blogpost I wrote earlier this week. It features on a KPM compilation titled Children and Animation. It's less than two minutes long and, as the makers of Mary, Mungo and Midge quickly worked out, it was a perfect fit for their newly commissioned kiddies' programme.

Johnny Pearson - Mini Walking (1969)

★ 

Every now and again I read something written by one of my fellow bloggers that either upsets or troubles me. One such post written a couple of days ago c/o New Amusements. NA spoke with genuine affection for bass player and original member of The Jam, Bruce Foxton. It's well documented that Bruce is not in the best of health. In fact he's bowing out after nearly fifty years in the business. NA then threw in one of Bruce's songs he wrote for the band, News of the World. Bruce was not a prolific songwriter but every now and again he hit the motherlode. And with a promo video featuring Battersea Power Station as a backdrop, what's not to like? Also it gives me an opportunity to put up another image of BPS; this time it's a Hockney-esque interpretation of south London's mot iconic structure.  

★

Johnny Pearson (1925-2011)

David Hockney (1937-)

Bruce Foxton (1955-)

Addictive, indeed

This Bank Holiday weekend I have mainly been sipping from the Devil's cup; yep, I've been tinkering around with AI. I know what you're saying, it's a sure fire way to Hell and no mistake. And you may well be right. But, and here's the thing, I quite like it. I wouldn't say I'll be throwing all my AIggs into one basket but as a fun tool to have in your, er, toolbox, it's a handy, what's another word for tool, bloody hell, tool thing. 

As a for instance I 'asked' it to 'paint' my spiritual local The Abdication in the style of Edward Hopper. Thirty seconds later - Boom!

If the Abdo wasn't my hosterlry of choice before seeing this image it certainly would be now. The light and shadow - two of Hopper's trademarks - are both here in spades. And solitude. Don't get me wrong, the pub is never empty, and yet... this stark image is so Hopper and is so pulling me in through its front door. Would it be so wrong to want to live in this fake world? Hopper may have shuffled off this mortal coil over fifty years ago but in this new world he and I are exchanging pleasantries over a flagon of frothing ale looking out into the murky nether lit city streets; a pair of Nighthawks.

Regular readers will know that directly opposite the Abdo sits the former Home Ales building. I photograph it every time I go to the pub (yes, my photo roll is groaning) but I've never captured a passing classic car when photographing it; 'AI, remove the nondescript black hatchback in this photo and replace it with a blue Mk.1 Ford Cortina. All in the style of Hopper.'

Can you see now why, for some, this new technology is proving so addictive?

★ 

 Edward Hopper (1882-1967)

Do you live in a town?

Who remembers Richard Baker's spoken word introduction to Mary, Mungo and Midge? It went something like this. "A town is full of buildings; some tall, some small, some wide, some narrow. A town is full of houses, factories and shops. The buildings are built in streets with cars, buses and lorries running along them..." It goes on. Whilst this all may be factually correct, I would just like to pick Baker up on a couple of things. Where are the drinking establishments? No mention of pubs, hostelries or taverns. That's what every town is full of. What every town isn't full of, however, is jazz clubs. We're lucky in Nottingham - we have three (to the best of my knowledge), but I know loads of places where the chances of seeing live jazz are up there with being hit by lightning. On Christmas Day.

My jazz club of choice in Nottingham is the award winning Peggy's Skylight. If you've ever been to Ronnie Scott's in Soho, London or the Village Vanguard in Greenwich Village then you're on the right track. We saw Joel Sarakula there on Wednesday night. He was sublime. 

As was his guitarist Jimmy McGovern. Jimmy Mac - a local lad - looks like a guitarist. And by that I mean he's got 'the look'. Think Jimmy McCullough out of Wings, or those two gadgies in the Lemon Twigs and you'll know what I man. He's snake hips thin, rarely smiles and he's got the hair. Not to mention a beautiful Fender Jaguar. He looked something like this.

★

Baker goes on: "Do you live in a town? Mary Mungo & Midge live in this town. They live in a tall block of flats. Right at the very top..." Not sure if MM&M live in this flat just on the edge of Nottingham, I wouldn't like to say. The way the light glistened and gleamed off it yesterday was pretty stunning though. Maybe Midge (the most mischievous mouse in town) and his mice cronies had somehow managed to rig up a set of mirrors in various windows to attract attention. Or even dazzle any pilots in the immediate air space. Definitely not the kind of shenanigans goody two shoes Mary would get up to, or sensible 'steady away' Mungo. Oh no.