St Nick and I ‘did a thing’ as the youth would say. Revision period was particularly tough and we faced the immense challenge of revising for half a dozen exams in tandem by writing and acting in a comedy podcast. Here, for your keen listening displeasure, is our pilot episode. If all of you don’t unsubscribe immediately, we may consider releasing another episode. Who knows? The night is young.
Enjoy the fruits of our misplaced labour and step into the world of St Nick’s Pontifical Hour…
This is a difficult album to listen to. I should say so immediately. St Nick’s brilliant album of the month review of Five Leaves Left goes some way to explaining why:
Great art has the power to change us, or so they say. But sometimes with our favourite artists we find they have not changed us, but rather that they have acted as a mirror, reflecting back to us an undistorted image of ourselves. Five Leaves Left Review, St Nick
The Book of Traps and Lessons is the fourth studio album of spoken word poet and Ted Hughes Award winning writer Kate Tempest. What makes this so difficult to listen to, for me, is that it sheds light on the macro idiosyncrasies which form the base of our modern way of life. For example, the following passage in Keep Moving Don’t Move is particularly harrowing:
Stroke the phone screen with your thumb
Like a mother trying to wipe clean the face of her only child
That blemish, that black dot that will not come clean
The first sign of the plague
Absorb the ache of all your friends
And sleep with the light in your brain burning UV all night
Wake tired, eat bread, eat oranges, eat bus stops
Eat traffic jams, eat shoes, eat shop windows
Eat the chair you’re sitting on, eat the table
Eat the idea there was ever more than this
Eta the beer, eat the takeaway, eat the boredom, eat the breakup
Eat the phone she’s hasn’t called
Eat her ringtone six times, six times
And when she answers, eat the silence in your mouth
Eat the pillow, eat the blankets, eat the moon
Eat the screaming drunks, eat the bad dreams, wake up
Eat the alarm, remember to chew
Are you doing this, too?
Keep Moving Don’t Move – Kate Tempest
‘Absorb the ache of all your friends’ hit me squarely. This is partly why I got rid of social media. I cannot tell you how freeing it is not to be made aware of the minutiae of other people’s lives. My mind is uncluttered and free to focus on things of import. Equally, nobody ever knows where I am, which is a huge comfort. My previous obsession with updating my ‘story’ on Instagram to seem like a more wholesome and interesting person were a danger to my security. Letting the world know where you are at any given point (my account was not private) is quite unsafe if you think about it.
But… but but but we are not here to talk about my social media freedom. Kate Tempest’s album speaks about much more than obsession. All Humans Too Late for example considers the stark reality of the humanity wide crisis we have created and are steeped in right now.
But what’s to be done
When the only way to defend ourselves
From what we’ve created is to merge with it?
What can be done to stay human?
The racist is drunk on the train
The racist is drunk on the internet
The racist is drunk at my dinner table
Shouting his gun shots and killing us all
All Humans Too Late, Kate Tempest
Closer to home, Three Sided Coin speaks of the mess that the UK is in right now. And it is a frightful mess. I shan’t say any more than that for fear of stoking divisions in a time when unity would be far more productive. I’ll let Kate Tempest do the talking:
Now the distance between objects
Can be measured out in fractions
But the distance between people
Is a scale that we can’t balance
We’re frail, our hearts haven’t had time to try fathom
The scales of old dragons are nails in gold coffins
This island of England
Oh, England
Three Sided Coin, Kate Tempest
This album is difficult to hear. However, for those with a stronger stomach, please do listening to this stark and honest work. Kate Tempest has shown us a piece of her soul and in so doing, allowed us to see ourselves. Tremendous strength and ingenuity go into creating music which makes us take pause. A lot of what is released these days has no musical integrity. It is reflective of a desire to pander to the club goer or to be played by the musically uninterested masses and will soon be played at second flight parties alone or forgotten entirely. Kate Tempest’s work will remain relevant for some time. It is harrowing and deep, which is more than I can say for a lot of modern music.
One of the benefits of living in Harborne is one’s proximity to the University of Birmingham. The beautiful campus, overbearingly phallic clock tower, expansive green spaces and exceptional art galleries make for a fabulous day out. I’m not sure the students feel the same way, but I will allow myself a rose-tinted view as I am, after all, colour blind.
Currently on show in the Barber Institute of Fine Arts is a collection from Cassiano dal Pozzo’s illustrations. These were among the first documented anatomical and architectural depictions in history. They make for fascinating viewing and I cannot recommend this free exhibition more.
The new kind of art initiated by the lynxes became part of the “paper museum” of Cassiano dal Pozzo, a 17th-century lawyer, diplomat and scientific amateur. These albums of intricate learning eventually found their way into Britain’s Royal Collection. The Guardian
One of the first things which caught my eye was the original drawings for the floor plan of St Peter’s Basillica in Rome. As none of you will know, I spent one of the greatest years of my life in Rome. I often miss my time there, most frequently when seeing the state of the ‘coffee’ I am served. This picture is MichaelAngelo’s final scheme for the Basillica in 1569. Its inclusion in the collection is evidence of Cassiano’s interest in antique architecture and religious symbolism, this being the most holy site in Catholicism.
It is impossible to overstate the importance of these masterpieces of scientific art, yet until art historian David Freedberg chanced on them in a cupboard in Windsor Castle in 1986, they lay neglected for centuries, their connection with one of Europe’s first scientific academies forgotten. The Guardian
My second favourite piece in the collection is this extraordinary ‘fingered lemon’ which Cassiano drew. This is characteristic of the evolution of botanical understanding. At the time, it was believed that the seed of the lemon was deformed, leading to this disfiguration of the final fruit. Now, we know such deformations are caused by the citrus flower being damaged by small insects pollinating it.
These are just two examples of the wonderful pieces in this temporary exhibition. I highly recommend you go and inspect them. There is a lot to be learned about the progression in thinking as well as the extraordinary work in preserving these significant works.
If you’ve time, take a look around the permanent exhibition, just around the corner. Inside are contained myriad religious icons, a coin collection and some startling watercolours. My personal highlight was this bronze tiger. The way one could see the motions it must have taken just by looking at is quite wonderful.
Enjoy your time at the Barber Institute. I certainly did!
After what the Smiths call ‘my weekly chat with God’, I am often quite famished. There’s nothing quite so invigorating to a food critic as being able to pick a new place to eat. Once I had completed the relevant due diligence, I chose the Button Factory as the place to eat.
I spend a lot of time in Hockley, for my sins, and I have wondered about this place for some time. Usually, I avoid places where middle aged women drink prosecco at 3pm and talk about things which don’t matter. Thankfully, this Sunday lunch was notably bereft of such utterly forgive-able behaviour.
To kick things off, my roast beef was a thing of beauty. Everything made from scratch and cooked beautifully. Observe how the skin of the carrots is crinkling slightly. This is the sign of slow cooking, which achieves the best results for carrots in the circumstance of a roast dinner. The Yorkshire pudding is clearly homemade. One cannot imagine Mr Sainsbury allowing such a monstrous pud on his shelves. But I am a fan of a deformed pudding and this one was just crunchy enough to pair with the wonderfully braised beef. This was an unquestionably wining dish.
Louise’s roast pork was also extraordinary. Slow cooking pork makes the fat delightfully soft, almost melting into the meat it is attached to. Equally, if you’re on a diet, it is most easy to remove. The neighbouring vegetables were as gorgeous as the ones on my plate. Let it be known that I love both cabbage and parsnips.
Dessert, too, was something to behold. Louise had the special, which was a caramel cheesecake topped with homemade meringue. Sampling this delightful dessert was a privilege. It came together and melted apart like one of Beethoven’s less salacious symphonies.
I recall the lemon curd parfait wasn’t perfect. I thought it a little too acrid for my easily upset palette. Having said that the combination of oats, frozen crumbled raspberries, raspberry jus and lemon curd proved to make a potent cocktail. Many would adore it, this review is too prissy.
Overall, I was astonished most by the waiting in this restaurant. The waitress was so attentive, she’d change our napkins without our even noticing. Every possible whim was catered for. The food was amazing and the location is central with free parking on Sundays. I highly recommend the Button Factory.
Before we had to make a run for the border, the gang and I stayed the night in the capital of Montenegro, Podgorica. I’ll admit I did not much enjoy our 12 hours in the city. I found it a tad moribund. This morbidity was a running theme in the less glamorous locations we visited throughout the Balkans. The outskirts of Split were a grim and prescient reminder of the bleak former governance of these countries. Dull grey concrete apartment blocks as far as the eye can see. Such was the case in Podgorica, but Desetka brought some colour back into our evening.
PIZZA DIAVOLO
Pelat, mozzarella, kulen, feferoni
Coming into this vast restaurant, one expects it to be full of jovial Montenegrins, exhausted from a day’s dangerous driving, ready for a revitalising meal. Alas, the place was deserted. Perhaps this is the derivative of the restaurant’s own nomenclature. In any case, the fewer the better when it comes to dining in the Balkans. we were given the star treatment by staff. In fact, I recall that the meal was so cheap, we tipped the waiter enormously. In part because their currency is weak compared to sterling, but also because we were given the gold standard of hosting.
Moving onto the food…
St Nick and I devoured three pizzas between us. The Pizza Desetka and the Diavolo. Both of which were phenomenal. The crust was thin and crispy, the ingredients were fresh and locally sourced, making for some novel flavours. The oil content was not as dramatic as it looks in the cover photo and above photograph. If you still think it too much, and consider yourself to be Moses’ equal in parting seas, there is a solution. When I find myself drowning in pizza grease, I take the napkin and rest it on top of the pizza. Excess oil seeps into the paper by osmosis. You may have to sacrifice a few napkins but this is more justifiable than sacrificing your arteries on the altar of silence. Think on it.
The Ćevapi doesn’t look like much but it was astounding. This is a traditional Bosnian dish, boasting its origins in the Ottoman Empire. It bears a remarkable similarity to köfte kebabs. I don’t know what they feed their animals in Montenegro, but this dish was loaded with flavours. You must try it if you find yourself in that part of the world.
At the golden waiter’s insistence, we sampled the tiramisu and choco pancake. Both of which were a superb example of culinary excellence. Layered and surprising, but also made tastefully without overdoing any of the essential ingredients. I for one despise it when tiramisu is coated with coffee powder. I expected the choco pancake to be coated in chocolate, some nutella hybrid for example. In fact, they had made a chocolate batter and topped it with fresh cream. I could not believe my eyes or my tastebuds. A true phenomenon.
In summation, Desetka exceeded our every expectation. We had even more food than was mentioned in this post. The Greek feta salad and omelette were great but it is difficult to fail them. And I have bombarded you with quite enough information for one post. I don’t believe the final price exceeded £40, despite our taking three courses each and a copious amount of alcohol. If you find yourself in the capital of Montenegro, for your sins, you must dine here.
When I asked Shaun at the counter how long this fine establishment had been there, I was astonished to discover MAD was in its 7th year of existence. Having been to Stratford on numerous occasions, I never noticed this slice of mechanical heaven nestled in the bustling Henley Street, at the heart of this quaint town.
If you’re not quite sure what mechanical art is all about, think of the machines and gizmos used in Wallace and Gromit, Scrapheap Challenge and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.
In a nutshell, mechanical art is usually beautifully crafted, moving sculptures either made to have an exaggerated purpose or made simply for the fun of it. MAD Museum
For the sake of both brevity, and mystery, I shall merely highlight the three pieces which amused, enticed and generally aroused me most. The first such exhibit was the ballbearing clock. In many ways it was more precise than our own watches. See the impressively imbedded gif below. I say impressive because I did not know I could do such a thing.
The second piece on display which truly inspired me was the gremlins defacing Shakespeare. Anyone defacing anything brings me great and overwhelming joy. But this most egregious defacement of an iconic figure brought me particular glee. You can see this masterwork in the gif below
Although this was a relatively simple mechanical creation, it has a high impact. I love the construction and conception of this work almost as much as the next one I am about to showcase for you, dear reader.
The next piece combines moribund morbidity, steampunk and elements of ingenuity scarcely seen in the artistic community. The real skull, featuring a steampunk lense, was mounted on a metal construction boasting what looked like a corrugated iron spine. Words can scarcely describe the horror and delight of the piece itself. View it below.
In all, MAD was a top shelf experience. the gift shop itself is indicative of the place not being a money grabbing cash cow likely most of the surrounding shops. This is not just for tourists, it is for people who have a genuine interest in mechanical art and seek something to do which is far from Shakespeare, without wandering beyond the comfortable confines of Stratford proper. I know for a fact you’ll enjoy your time there.
