Showing posts with label John Betjeman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Betjeman. Show all posts

Saturday, 16 August 2025

Do me a flavour #1

Peterborough is synonymous with two things. One, its Passport Office: time was when it was the only place in the UK that issued passports and would even process them in person if you fetched up at their offices (thus saving countless trips and holidays from being cancelled due to lapsed documents). Secondly, its cathedral. John Betjeman one said it was the finest cathedral outside of London; I think he was right.

I took a punt yesterday and bought a train ticket to Peterborough. Armed with nothing more than my camera, a good book and a tube of factor 50 I jumped on the 8:41. An hour later I disgorged at Peterborough and immediately went in search of breakfast. I needed coffee and nosebag. From my booth in the Westgate Grill I mapped out what you could loosely call an itinerary. It included a lido, a couple of bridges, a museum and gallery, some street art, a cathedral (obviously), a sculpture, art deco architecture, and a hostelry or two along the way.(Maybe it was because of the pubs that I only spotted one of the three Antony Gormleys!)

So I'll start with the cathedral - the early Gothic architecture speaks for itself; construction began in 1118 and took over a century to build. It's where Mary Queen of Scots was originally interred before the body snatchers moved her to Westminster Abbey. I was also fascinated by the names of the city's previous Bishops. Tell me that Mandrel Creighton, Edward Carr Glynn, Frank Theodore Woods, Douglas Russell Feaver and William John Westwood weren't also members of Caravan between 1971 & 1976.


Gormley #1. There are three apparently, the other two are (hiding) in Cathrdral Square. I'll get 'em next time.

Today's blog post title comes from Paul McCartney. One of the exhibitions showing at Peterborough Museum & Art Gallery was the work of Jeff Cummins whose artwork and designs adorned countless album sleeves and book dust jackets. It's his painting of Wings that Macca used as the gatefold for his triple live extravaganza Wings Over America. I remember reading the review in Sounds when it came out and the writer made a big thing out of the fact that in the song Let 'Em In Paul sings 'do me a flavour' instead of 'do me a favour' - they were simpler times. 


The Lido is a thing of beauty. Built in the Hacienda style there's not may of these left in the country.




Bridges; bridges that go over rivers, bridges that go over railway lines, bridges that go over roads.



And I kept seeing Daleks everywhere; most unnerving, I can tell you.


Travelogue over. Here's Macca with that rehearsed blooper (1:03).

Wings - Let 'Em In (1976) 

 

Friday, 11 December 2020

Where is Wendy? Wendy's missing


I'm currently formulating a mental list of all the films I want to watch over my Tier 3 Christmas break; all the usual suspects will be screened at some point during my three week lay off starting next Friday: Comfort and Joy, The Odd Couple, Gumshoe, Croupier, A Hard Day's Night, Local Hero, to name but a few.

Joining them this year will be Metro-Land, the short film John Betjeman made for the BBC in 1973; the then poet laureate documented a part of suburban north London - following the path of the old  Metropolitan line - never put under the microscope in such a way before. 
The ever urbane Betjeman had an eye for the mundane but could turn it on its head with nothing more than a deft turn of phrase. So I wouldn't be surprised after Metro-Land if I then dig out his travelogues - available thru the BFI portal - many made for the Shell company in the 1950s and 1960s; time capsules all.

I'll sign off with one of his finest poems. In the mid 70s the Charisma label (Genesis, Bonzos, Monty Python et al) thought it would be cool if Sir John would read some verse - backed by the subtle musical arrangement of Jim Parker. He ended up doing a couple of albums for them. Banana Blush is my personal favourite.

John Betjeman - Indoor Games Near Newbury (1974)



Saturday, 3 July 2010

Speak Up!


Some of the most interesting records in my collection, and I guess yours too, comprise just the human voice with little or no accompaniment. You may want to call it poetry - and yes, I've got plenty of sublime spoken word pieces (in various formats) by, among others, John Betjeman, Ian McMillan, Hovis Presley, John Cooper Clarke, even Peter Sellers. But other prime examples fall between the cracks - into that muddy area iTunes call Unclassifiable. I'm thinking Barry Adamson's Here In The Hole, James Yorkston's Woozy with Cider, maybe even Coney Island by Van Morrison. And for those of a nervous disposition you can even try Love And Death And An American Guitar by Jim Steinman.

But what I've brought to today's Show and Tell is from Australian film director and maverick Baz Luhrmann. Instead of going into chapter and verse (sorry) about it, just hit the play button and work it out for yourselves.

Baz Luhrmann: Everbody's Free To Wear Sunscreen