You're An Artist If You Say You Are

There's a scene in a wonderful movie called Dinner Rush...

 

 (Not this scene, but it gives you an idea how good a film this is)

...where a pompous celebrity art critic says to Summer Phoenix's aspiring painter / waitress...

You're an artist if you say you are. You're a successful artist if....

...and then he's interrupted by his entourage.

I've often wondered how to finish that line.

It's subtle, because there's "being an artist" and being a writer, painter, sculptor, interior designer, architect, and all those other activities that fall under "the arts".

You're a writer if you sit down and write pretty much every day. You're a successful writer if you finish some of the stories or projects you start, (because you will waste time on bad ideas)

But then there's "being a writer" as a profession, as participation in a social / cultural scene.

You're an author if you've been published and paid for it. Once. That's what the Society of Authors says. You're a successful author if you keep being published. (Because almost nobody makes a living from writing.)

There are successful authors who are by no means artists. There are artists who write stories, who write little and don't spend much time schmoozing.

So what makes someone a successful artist?

It's not about being a successful practitioner, and it's not about being recognised by the in-crowd of agents, critics, editors, gallerists, academics, journalists, and other bureaucratic nabobs.

What I notice about people I call `artists' is that a) they can work and express themselves in multiple media; b) they are quick to experiment with new technology that may help them produce something; c) they have their own voice / tone / style. You can identify their work more or less immediately.

You're a famous artist if "everyone" knows your name.

You're a rich artist if you have lots of money.

You're a successful artist if you develop your own voice and use that voice to produce work in whatever media you can use.

And most probably you will be poor or working a day job. Those are the stats.

Something You Won't See After The 24th August For A While

 Or maybe it's okay for them to use sprinklers.

Thames Water hosepipe ban from 24th August. 

Wouldn't it be nice if there was a Leaking Pipes Ban as well?

Oh, but then they wouldn't be able to borrow all that money to pay dividends.

Early Saturday Morning Fashion Shoot

 
Hey guys! Let's get a really early tube into the West End and shoot some video at 07:30 on Saturday morning! Before it gets hot, you know?

Fish and Chips, South Bank

 

Live Music - Autumn 2022

I have an excellent next-level hi-fi set up I wrote about endlessly a couple of years ago.

Live music does not sound like hi-fi, and vice versa.

It's been a while since I've heard live music, and I've decided that I need to hear some.

If only to convince myself that...

a) the acoustics in my listening position are better than an affordable seat in a concert hall (*)

b) audiences are... audience-like

c) live music, even in the Wigmore or Festival Halls, is MUCH LOUDER than I play my stereo

d) the soundstage is better on my stereo

e) a CD would be cheaper

f) paying that price for 90 minutes of entertainment makes me concentrate in a way I could never do at home

It's also part of my going-out-in-the-evening programme of recovery.

I have three concerts booked for the South Bank, and three at the Wigmore Hall.

I'll let you know how it goes.



(*) 'Affordable' is an elastic term.

Is It Safe To Come Out Yet?

Freedom Day was in July 2021, but the restrictions weren't removed until the end of February 2022,  SAGE wasn't disbanded until the start or March, and according to Rishi Sunak, we were this far away from an Omicron lockdown in Winter 21/22.

Even so, we're only three months from the end of free testing for Covid.

The last of the perspex screens are coming down in the shops.

It seems to me that everyone on public transport has stopped watching everyone else as if they may be infected with the plague.

Over-cautious, virtue-signalling Arts Venues have finally accepted that their customers do not want to wear masks while listening to Beethoven.

So I guess it's safe to come out. Not that I haven't been going to the shops and wandering around bits of London.

I mean, other people look normal now. They really didn't even in March.

It feels like we are about ninety-five per cent normal: regional wars, strikes, near double-digit inflation, the NHS in crisis, all business-as-usual for my generation. Now if the Grown-Ups could only put a stop to this Woke provokatsiya (or possibly provokáció), we might be okay.

My thought was that, in ordinary times, I would start going out to movies and concerts in the evenings (again) and let the sleep patterns take care of themselves. Especially since parking near tube stations gets cheaper if I do that. So I'm going to start doing that now.

It is not, however, safe to go near airports, ferry ports, or any other kind of international travel. Long queues, missed flights, delayed flights, only half the security desks opened at any given time, passport control half-manned... no freaking way. Even if I did have a passport.

Losing My Passport and a Trip to Consular Services

I had checked in online with KLM. Packed my stuff and gathered together my documents.

Passport.

Passport?

Passport!

After looking everywhere, nope. Gone.

My friend stopped me from panicking.

I had to apply online for an emergency passport. https://www.gov.uk/emergency-travel-document

The application process is straightforward, you don't need any details about your lost passport, and pick up the passport yourself from the Embassy. (Courier takes an age.) It took a couple of attempts to get an acceptable photograph, but the computer seemed to be happy to wait.

There's an irreversible point where you push a button to continue and the cancel your lost passport. Take one last look around before doing that.

It costs £100. What choice do you have?

The application was done by 11:00 or so on the Monday, and I was told I should hear within two days.

About 15:00 on the Tuesday, I got a mail telling me the passport was ready for collection, between 10:00 and 13:00 Monday-Friday, from the Consular Services office at the Embassy.

Wednesday morning, we set off to The Hague from Utrecht Central at about 08:30 on a train that was only a third-full. Navigating between the station and the Lange Voorhout by map turned out to be more confusing that we thought, and a kind lady on a bicycle put us in the right direction. We had overshot the left turn we needed by some distance.

The Lange Voorhout is where a lot of the Embassies are, and it's less than a hundred yards from the Dutch Parliament. All very tree-shaded and historical. Consular Services is on a side street. We got there about 09:45.

I was expecting a line, if not around the block, then at least up the Kliener Kazernestsraat. Even by 10:00 we were the only people there. Clearly, losing one's passport is not a thing that happens a lot.

Just before 10:00, a jovial man appeared, wished us a good morning and asked if we were for the Consular Services. I said I was, and he let us in, asked my name and vanished into the offices.

About five minutes later, a woman called my name from behind a customer window, and talked me through the emergency passport.



Yep. It's bright blue. Nobody on passport control anywhere is going to miss it.

The page you show passport control looks like a normal passport. The document number will be accepted by online check-in systems, and it is good for one journey to the UK by "any available route", and expires months into the future. The rules say there's a limit of five intermediate countries, and you should check if they accept UK emergency passports, but that may only be an issue outside Europe. It took no more than five minutes: no interview, no interrogation, no sermons.

Travelling the next day, the Dutch passport control (on leaving the country?) asked if I had lost it in the Netherlands.

When I arrived in the UK, the Passport Control officer took the passport from me, and asked where I had lost it and how much it cost. I wondered if the latter was a test question, but I think he didn't know. He gave me a you-won't-be-doing-that-again smile and waved me through.

I was impressed by the whole process.

The only bit that wasn't easy to take was waiting for the e-mail. That really is being in limbo.

How did it happen? It had been three years since I had travelled anywhere, and I had just lost the habits of travel, including putting the passport in the case (or room safe if you're in a hotel). So I'm going to look for a neck wallet to carry it next time.