Have I got News for Thee!

Before the advent of newspapers (which first appeared in English around 1620) a popular way of disseminating information was via a broadsheet (also known as a broadside) - a single piece of paper, printed on one side, often containing news, woodcut illustrations, ballads and rhymes.

They first appeared in the sixteenth century and were sold for as little as a penny. The ballads on these sheets were sung in the streets, taverns and theatres, in an attempt to attract customers. They could be viewed in the same way that tabloid newspapers are today, containing stories of scandal, gossip, murder trials and other major news of the day, along with more light-hearted (and bawdy) content. They were set to popular tunes of the period, many of which have survived to the present day. 

So it was with great interest that I went along to Doctor Johnson's House in London on Thursday 14 March to see Have I got News for Thee! - a performance by Lucie Skeaping and Douglas Wootton, which recreated some of these ballads, using the music and lyrics taken from original broadsheets of the time.

I'd never been to Doctor Johnson's House before; an interesting venue, it was the home of the writer Samuel Johnson, from 1748 to 1759. It is situated in a small, pedestrianised, L-shaped court, off some small alleyways not far from Fleet Street.

The performance took place in a room at the very top of the five story house. Lucie (who presents The Early Music Show on BBC Radio 3, as well as performing early music in a number of groups, notably The City Waites, and has also written on the subject) talked the audience through the history of Broadside Ballads (as they were known), using a set of around fifty slides to illustrate many points of note.

Interspersed throughout, we were treated to performances of many of the ballads, sung by Lucie and accompanied by Douglas Wootton on Lute and Cittern (who also took vocal charge on a number of the songs). Audience participation was encouraged and we soon found ourselves singing along with Lucie and Douglas, which was all very enjoyable.

Not always was the choice of song to accompany the lyrical content particularly appropriate, given the context of the news story being related. One such (unintentionally amusing) example that Lucie gave of this was the ballad entitled 'The barbarous and bloody son who shot his father as he was going into the church', a news story of an actual event, which was sung to the tune of 'I love you dearly'! Below is a facsimile of that original broadside (apologies for the poor quality - this was hard to find!) and, if you want to know how it sounded, a recording of the ballad can be heard here (not performed by Lucie by the way!).

It was also rather interesting to learn that the reason we have as much knowledge as we do about these ballads in England is because a small number of significant individuals in society chose to collect them, most notably the diarist Samuel Pepys, who had amassed a collection of some 1800 or more during his lifetime! 

After the performance ended there was a drinks (and sandwiches) reception with Lucie, Douglas and all attendees in one of the rooms on the floor immediately below and a chance to buy Lucie's book on the subject or one of her CDs. Or indeed to simply have a chat. But sadly I couldn't participate, as I was going away for the weekend the next day and still had some things to do back home, so headed straight off to my station. Otherwise I'd have loved to.

The house has a modest programme of events but it is open to the public every day bar Sundays and Bank Holidays. I'd like to go back at some point and explore this fine old house in more detail.

How To Get Almost Anyone To Want To Sleep With You

It was off to the Southbank Centre last Wednesday (1 May) to catch one of the shows in the Udderbelly Festival season. Southbank Centre run the festival every year, in which a variety of performers from the worlds of comedy and circus lay on an array of entertainment ranging from the comical, to the breathtaking, to the downright bonkers!

I somehow managed to miss the entire festival last year, but was determined to check out the schedule this time round and bowl along for a night of laughter and amusement. And that's exactly what I got with Deborah Frances-White's How To Get Almost Anyone To Want To Sleep With You. And no, er, I didn't go literally for that reason ... of course not. Ahem!

In case you've never heard of Udderbelly, its name is derived from the venue itself; a large tent-like construction designed to resemble a giant purple cow, lying on its back, legs and udder pointing straight upwards! Unfortunately, photography inside was strictly forbidden, but I managed to get this shot of the gardens area outside the venue, which gives you some idea.

Inside it's actually quite basic - banks of seats laid out in theatre style, and the show is performed at floor level. Deborah came out and launched into a very funny stand-up set, which was heavily audience-involved and contained, as the title of the show would suggest, plenty of risque content. I had suspected audience participation in advance and made sure I sat a little bit further back just in case (a tack not always successful, as previous shows I've attended have confirmed!), but in all honesty I'd probably have been perfectly safe anyway, the audience members targeted being young, good looking, and all the right side of 25! 

She dealt with one - well, not so much 'heckler', more 'cocky individual' - very skillfully, who didn't seem to know when his contribution to proceedings should have come to an end. A group of girls behind him were even telling him to shut up, but he plowed on until Deborah stopped him in his tracks. His girlfriend sitting next to him appeared suitably embarrassed and it would have been interesting to be a fly on the wall with those two after the show had finished!

As well as bantering with the audience, Deborah even had a number of them up on stage with her. I don't want to give too much away, but if you've ever fantasised about watching grown males battling each other whilst wearing bras ... that's all I'm saying!

It was all over in an hour and Deborah crammed in quite a bit. She's very funny and, sadly, I can't recommend you pop down there to see her, as that was her only date at the festival, but check out her website at the link above to find out where you can catch her next gig.

As for me, I think I'll be heading down for more Udderbelly fun during its run, which ends 14 July. There's lots to come yet. See you next blog! 

A Classic Doctor Who companion at The Cinema Museum

How many long-running TV shows genuinely merit the iconic status they've attained over the years? One show that it would be hard to dispute when it comes to such a question has to be the BBC's evergreen science fiction drama Doctor Who, about an alien who is referred to as 'The Doctor', travelling through time and space in a time machine called the TARDIS (Time And Relative Dimension In Space) and accompanied along the way by an ever-growing list of companions. 

The show ran from 1963 to 1989, returned for a one-off movie in 1996 and then was relaunched in 2005 and is now in the 9th year of its new existence and enjoying greater success than ever. Fans of the show are referred to as 'Whovians' and I guess I would consider myself amongst the many. One of the secrets of the shows longevity is in the fact that the main character, i.e. The Doctor, has the ability to 'regenerate' when he is mortally wounded, every cell in his body reconstructed in the process. However, this results in his entire appearance and personality changing, allowing new actors to take on the role and breathe new life into the character.

The first episode was famously broadcast on the same day as the assassination of President John.F.Kennedy; Saturday, November 23, 1963. Of the actors who played the first four TARDIS travellers from episode one (which included the Doctor himself), only two of that original cast survive to witness the 50th anniversary of the show this year, and so I was thrilled to attend a talk last Saturday (27 April) given by one of those two cast members; An Evening With William Russell at The Cinema Museum (a.k.a. The Ronald Grant Archive).

The Museum is situated in a quiet road off Kennington Lane, but was originally based in Brixton, being first established in 1986. It was founded by Ronald Grant and Martin Humphries from their own private collection of cinema history and memorabilia. It moved to its current location in 1998. Visiting is currently by guided tour only and must be booked in advance and of course the museum runs a programme of events, of which this was one! 

William Russell played the character of Ian Chesterton, a science teacher at Coal Hill School who, along with fellow (history) teacher Barbara Wright (Jacqueline Hill), the Doctor (William Hartnell), and Susan Foreman, the Doctor's Granddaughter (played by the remaining surviving cast member, Carole Ann Ford), set the standard for the show's format which continues to this day.

He was introduced to rousing applause in this, one of his most intimate public appearances. The audience numbered around 100. It's one of the things I like about the Cinema Museum; there's a cosy and informal atmosphere that really fits well with this type of talk and career overview. William Russell is of course used to appearing in front of thousands of Doctor Who fans at conventions, so I guess the contrast must have been kind of nice for him too.

Russell was interviewed by Mark Egerton, who gently guided the interview along, allowing the actor to carefully deliberate before replying to each question, which was nice. And Russell had many interesting and amusing anecdotes to relate over the many years he has appeared in films, plays and television, including the time he spilled a tall glass of lager down a beautifully dressed Merle Oberon at dinner and the laughable experience he had when playing a non-speaking role in Richard Donner's 1978 comic-book classic 'Superman', alongside Marlon Brando. According to Russell, Brando was a bit of an egomaniac who refused to learn his lines for the film, resulting in banks of television monitors (showing the various lines he was required to speak) being dotted around the outer perimeter of the set, so he could read them as the scene was being shot. Unfortunately, the monitors were too small for Brando to read from, so he insisted all the lines were written up on large cards and held up for him to see. He even insisted the director himself hold up one of the cards, and Donner duly complied, but then complained he was holding it too high, and asked for it to be lowered by degrees, until eventually Brando could read it, but Donner's face was completely obscured! The scene was then shot without Donner actually seeing what he was shooting!

Another interesting anecdote was about a role he had in a Norman Wisdom film called One Good Turn in 1955. Up to this point, Russell had used his last two names as his stage name - Russell Enoch. But this apparently upset Norman Wisdom, who had an aversion to the name 'Enoch' (something to do with another comedian at the time, although this was a bit vague) and insisted Russell change it! Initially, of course, he refused and the ensuing row lasted for around a year(!), before he was finally told that his name would be removed from the film credits unless it was changed! It was at this point his mother suggested he use his first two names - William Russell - and, aside from a very short period many years later, when he reverted (unsuccessfully) to Russell Enoch once more, that's how it remained!

The show finished with a question and answer session, followed by a signing/photo opportunity. I was one of the lucky people afterwards that got to meet him and have a photograph taken. A charming man. From start to finish the entire thing lasted three hours and forty-five minutes - pretty good going for an 88 year old! He must have been pretty tired by the end of the evening.

William Russell came across as a very warm, engaging personality and it was a pleasure to listen to him talking about his career. This was apparently the first time he'd ever done anything like this and I'm sure the entire audience were pleased that he did. One question that wasn't asked in the Q&A was whether or not he might make an appearance in the 50th anniversary episode of Doctor Who, which is to be broadcast 50 years to the very day of its first transmission; Saturday, 23 November, 2013. Sadly, I suspect not, unless of course Steven Moffat has been particularly kind to us fans, but wouldn't it be a fitting tribute if he did? Only time will tell, if you'll pardon the pun!

Up Pompeii! at The British Museum

I have noticed a growing trend in recent years where re-screenings of classic Hollywood and indie films are being presented to the general public in some very novel venues and settings, ranging from rooftops to churches to museums to open air settings to old petrol stations and even while immersed in hot tubs! I think this is quite a clever concept, as it gives the films a whole new lease of life, and in addition allows the viewer to experience watching them with a live audience again (or indeed for the first time).

It was one such screening that I attended a couple of Fridays back (19 April), which took place in the Stevenson Lecture Theatre at the British Museum; Up Pompeii!, the 1971 British comedy film, based on the TV series of the same name and starring Frankie Howerd as Lurcio. It was being shown in line with the theme of the museum's current exhibition - Life and Death: Pompeii and Herculaneum. 

I had of course already seen this many times over the years on TV, but it sounded too good an opportunity to miss out on watching it with a live audience (and for £3.00, plus online booking fee, far cheaper than your average visit to the cinema!). The lecture theatre was laid out with one bank of seats rising up and away from the main speaker platform - able at total capacity to accommodate 142 people. I guessed it was probably around 85-90 per cent full (maybe a little more). Once the audience were seated and settled, a member of the museum staff stood up to the podium to introduce the two speakers who would be talking a bit about the film before it began. She also informed us that her museum colleagues had been championing the screening of the film ever since they learned of the current exhibition theme. It would seem that they got their way! Then she announced and brought up the speakers: Professor Maria Wyke, a Latin specialist at University College London, and author, classicist, broadcaster and comedian Natalie Haynes. 

The 20 minute or so pre-screening talk was interesting and both speakers gave some informative perspectives on ancient Roman life. Natalie Haynes quoted some lines from the Roman poet Juvenal (who satirised/ranted - dependent on your viewpoint - about many things that would be considered un-PC in today's more conservative landscape), which generated audience laughter. She thought it was interesting to note that Juvenal could still evoke such a response and considered a hypothetical association between his public speaking and the origins of modern stand-up, which was Frankie Howerd's principal comedy genre. 

As to Up Pompeii! itself: very much a British comedy, in the style of the Carry On films - which isn't really all that surprising when you consider that Sid Colin wrote the screenplay. Colin co-wrote the second series of the TV version with Talbot Rothwell. Rothwell had previously written all of series one, but is best known for his writing of 20 of the Carry On films, from Carry On Cabby in 1963 to Carry On Dick in 1974. His influence on Colin here is evident.

Frankie Howerd was very good at making scripted comedy seem improvised, but in my opinion he falls a little flat in this film (in contrast to the TV version) and the delivery is sometimes too contrived. But there are nevertheless moments where it's typical Frankie, and there was a particular belly laugh moment when Lurcio reads out one of the 'odes to Flavia', the aspirational love interest of Nausius, who has written the following verse for her:

I hereby vow to give my all
To you most beauteous Venus ...
(Lurcio looks knowingly at the camera, rolls tongue in cheek)
All that I own, my heart and soul
And half a yard of ... gold brocade!

Not quite Horace or Persius but the audience roared with laughter! 

On a side note, a late arrival to the screening (just as the talk was ending and the film beginning) decided to sit next to me and immediately asked me what she'd missed so far. I informed her she'd missed most of the talk but said that at least she'd arrived before the film had started, so all was not lost. "Is it based on Roman history?" she asked, quite seriously. She was about my age, possibly older, so I assumed she must have seen the film before. "Well, sort of." I replied, considering it a strange question and not really wanting to point out the obvious. I began to wonder if she realised we were about to watch a comedy film. "If you like Roman history ... and Frankie Howerd ... you won't be disappointed." I said, to help clarify things. "Oh, I'm not sure about Frankie Howerd!" she remarked, with a slight air of repellence, at which point the film then thankfully began, thereby dampening further discussion. 

I didn't hear her laughing too much during the next hour and a half and, once it had finished, she asked me again if it had some basis in historical fact...? "What, actual history?" I replied. "Yes". "Well, in as much as it was set in the ancient Roman world, erm, yes." I didn't trouble passing on to her that none of the main characters in the film were actually based on real historical figures, apart from the Emperor Nero, and even he had died 11 years before the events supposedly taking place on screen. I didn't really want to get into a deeper discussion, as she already seemed rather confused! It was when she then followed me out of the theatre and proceeded to tell me she was carrying her night clothes and was heading back to her daughter's empty property in Ilford for the night and didn't like the thought of being there alone, that I made a hasty retreat for my train! 

While not the first time I have done something like this, it was interesting to see the film with an audience reacting to it and I'd like to try to get to some more film screenings at other venues in the future. And there was something to be said for watching it at The British Museum, knowing there were real Roman artefacts in the very same building - it seemed to add something. Very similar in fact to my recent Caesar and Cleopatra outing several blogs ago at the Petrie Museum. Not sure about the Hot Tub Cinema yet though - need to lose a few before I try that! 

Find Alan!

I was invited to join a group of friends last Tuesday evening (16 April) to participate in a quiz/treasure hunt around the streets of London, organised by London Street Games and going by the name of Find Alan! A Manhunt in London. Only the 'treasure' was in fact six beer tokens (better than gold coins any day methinks!) and they could only be awarded by the eponymous Alan. If you could find him of course. 

We were a group of six; myself, close friend Natalie, and four of her friends (and hopefully mine now too!). LSG make a small charge of £5.00 to take part and you have to register your mobile phone number. Cryptic clues as to Alan's whereabouts are texted through at regular intervals and we as a team had to work out where we thought those clues were meant to be leading us. We were further helped by various additional hints, including visual clues, via Twitter. Google was also invaluable for obtaining information.

All six of us initially met near the statue of Eros at Piccadilly and the clues swiftly led us around a number of London locations, via Bank, Cannon Street, Charing Cross and Leicester Square. The experience was designed to last up to an hour and a half, but might be shorter, depending on how good you were at solving the clues to find Alan.

Although we were taking part as a team, this was not a requirement and you could actually participate on your own if preferred. It was clear a number of other people were doing this, or playing in smaller groups or couples. One such person was Sophie, an LSE student we met along the way and who ended up joining us in our search (and Sophie, if you're reading this, I appear to have lost your number!).

As we neared the final hiding place of Alan, we noticed various individuals darting up and down the streets and alleys nearby, obviously anticipating that it would be they who walked away with the beer tokens. But, ultimately, it was our team that finally uncovered Alan in an upstairs room at The Ship and Shovell, an unusual little pub located in Craven Street. It was unusual in the sense that it was actually two pubs, situated on opposite sides of the street to each other; one of them being smaller, with cosy little nooks and crannies, and the other, more spacious and laid out in Victorian style fittings and fixtures. Both are linked by their underground cellar.

Although we discovered Alan, we didn't actually get all six beer tokens in the end. A couple of other Alan-hunters had caught up with us and latched on to the fact we'd worked out where he was and followed one of our team up to the room where Alan was sitting having a drink and reading a paper, thereby claiming two of the tokens. It was only fair too that Sophie, being on her own, and alongside us at the winning post, should also claim one of the tokens. But the other three were ours and went towards our first round.

The organisers came over to congratulate us and handed us a placard to proudly display while we were enjoying our drinks, which said 'We found Alan!'. They also took a picture of us, which I believe may have been posted somewhere on their website (but I'm not entirely sure). After one more round Sophie, and the other couple who claimed first prize, each headed their separate ways and the rest of us continued our evening drinking near Leicester Square. It was good fun, so head on over to the LSG website if you like the sound of it and check out their other street games, including The Lost Case Book of Sherlock Holmes and The Five Ghosts Walking Mystery.

Fagin: depicting a stereotype?

I had the option of attending two free events last night: one was a concert (preceded by a short talk) by the ConTempo Quartet, a classical string ensemble, who were playing at the Romanian Cultural Institute in Belgrave Square to mark the beginning of their new tour, OR the event I ultimately ended up choosing, at The Wiener Library, Russell Square, which was a talk given by Dr Charles Drazin, a senior lecturer at Queen Mary, University of London (and writer of a number of books on British film history), on the subject of one of Charles Dickens's most famous creations and its perceived association with anti-semitism; entitled FilmTalk: Reviewing Fagin, 1948-2005.

The talk was the first in a series entitled The Jewish Villain (the next one taking place in June), organised in partnership with the Leo Baeck Institute. Dr Drazin focused mainly on the 1948 David Lean adaptation of Oliver Twist, the Dickens novel which is of course where Fagin was first introduced to the world. His key argument was centred around his view that the character has always been presented in such a way as to evoke a racial stereotype. And the 1948 film production in particular depicts Fagin, as played by Alec Guinness, with a more sinister and evil overtone than the much later (and better known) portrayal by Ron Moody in the 1968 Carol Reed directed musical, based on the 1960 stage show. But this was perhaps a little unfair on Lean, who was ultimately attempting as faithful a recreation as possible of the book, right down to the visual appearance of Fagin himself, which in turn was based on the original drawings by George Cruikshank.

Indeed, Dickens was accused of anti-semitic stereotyping at the time and in the novel refers to Fagin 257 times in the first 38 chapters as 'the Jew', while the ethnicity or religion of the other characters is rarely mentioned. He explained that he had made Fagin Jewish because "it unfortunately was true, of the time to which the story refers, that that class of criminal almost invariably was a Jew". It would seem he had some sense of discomfort about it however, as he had the printing of the book halted and modified the text for the parts that had not yet been set, resulting in the book's remaining 179 references to Fagin rarely referring to his Jewish status at all.

In the question and answer session afterwards, some strong viewpoints and opinions were expressed and thrashed out, leading to the end of an interesting discourse. No 'one for the road' in the pub for me afterwards though - I thought I'd do the uncharacteristic thing and head off home. But fear not - it was a temporary lapse!

Bill's: a blog before bedtime.

How quickly can someone write a blog before hitting the sack? I've just returned from a screening of the new computer animated movie from DreamWorks, 'The Croods', but, before heading to the performance, myself and Bryan (the friend I went to see it with) decided to find somewhere to eat. A swift bit of online research by Bryan came up with a place called 'Bill's', a nice little restaurant situated in Saint Martin's Courtyard, off Long Acre, Covent Garden and a place I soon realised I was already aware of but had never ventured into - until now. I was impressed enough to give them a bit of a mention via the ol' blog ...

Bill's has a warm and friendly vibe about it and we were welcomed as we entered and seated very promptly. The table we were placed at was near the main door and I expected the freezing cold air outside to filter in (as it usually does whenever I'm placed so near to an entrance) and penetrate my already cold limbs (the office air-con at work having chilled me to the bone through much of the day) but I was greatly relieved that Bill's generous heating system was more than up to the job of keeping me warm - first brownie point!

The interior had a bit of a rustic quality about it, with shelves of foodstuffs lining the walls, farmhouse style wooden tables and terracotta type flooring, contrasted with the more modern ventilator shaft themed ceiling space. A kitchen area was visible at the back of the restaurant.

The menu we chose from was the lunch and dinner, one of a selection: Bill's also do a breakfast menu, specials menu and a tea time and drinks menu (as well as a main drinks menu), offering a choice of comforting favourites from a classic fry-up, to french toast, Bill's beer battered haddock (which was my eventual choice), Bill's fish pie, cornish monkfish stew with warm sourdough bread and eggs benedict, to name just a few of the tempting treats. That of course does not include the cakes, puddings etc, etc ... the list goes on. This is good old comfort food done posh.

Of further interest, it was only as we were leaving to go and see the film that we realised (despite having seen a staircase as we entered earlier) there was a whole floor above us serving more customers, probably twice as big (or more) than the area downstairs! So I think a return visit might be in order at some point. To top it off, there is also a store, where you can purchase Bill's own brand products, including jams, chutneys, pickles, balsamic vinegar and cooking oils.

And as the light was failing outside, so the tables were lit up with candles, adding an even more welcoming ambience. But we were leaving at that point to make our way to the cinema. 

There. I did it. Now I can head to bed and post this in the morning. Oh, and in case you were wondering, The Croods was pretty good too!

Are there too many humans?

World population growth has become a serious issue for debate in recent times. At its current estimate of 6.9 billion, the number of humans on Earth has doubled in the last 50 years and some forecasters expect that number to reach 10 billion by the end of this century. Much of the debate centres around whether or not our planet can actually sustain this growing number and even argues if it might be the right time to impose population controls worldwide, along the Chinese model. Advocates of population control include a number of luminaries such as Sir David Attenborough, who has commented that humanity is 'a plague on the Earth' and that 'either we limit our population growth or the natural world will do it for us'. But is this a viewpoint shared by all? That was the topic up for discussion when I attended The Big Question, at the J Z Young Lecture Theatre, University College London Anatomy Building in Gower Street on Wednesday 6 March. 

Before the talk began, attendees were invited to a drinks reception at the nearby Grant Museum of Zoology. The drinks receptions there usually take place after the main event (particularly their free film screenings) but this one was prior to the talk, which was a good opportunity to chat about the upcoming topic of discussion. I was approached by a woman (whose name was Marlene if I remember correctly) whilst taking a couple of photographs and engaged in conversation, only to realise soon afterwards that she was trying to sell me membership of an organisation about the conservation of some endangered species of (I think) birds that she was heavily involved in. She also told me she had once been a film extra (or 'background artiste' as some would prefer to be known!) and when I asked her for an example of her favourite work she said she had featured quite heavily in One Million Years B.C., the 1966 British-made Hammer Film co-production starring Raquel Welch (which was also famed for its complete and total historical innaccuracy!). That was when she revealed she was 70, but looking more like mid-fifties. I wondered if I'd be able to pick her out if I ever see the film again. We were then joined in conversation by another attendee, who basically pretty much admitted he got more enjoyment out of the fact that this event was totally free and that he actively researched free events calendars and had even occasionally blagged his way into paid events! He seemed to be accompanied (although I wasn't totally certain) by a woman who actually appeared to have a real interest in the population growth issue and who I think was also trying to promote awareness via a website she supported.

The drinks reception lasted around 45 minutes, after which we were all shepherded across the road to the lecture theatre. It was very soon packed out and people were even turning up after the talk had got under way and had to stand or crouch down in the stairwells.

The talk was advertised as bringing together speakers from the world of ecology, history, finance, conservation and economics. Each one of them had to select an object from the Grant Museum's collection to illustrate and support their argument. The UCL events webpage stated that six speakers would be presenting their views, but in fact there were only three. This thankfully didn't have too much of an impact on the debate, as their viewpoints widely differed, one seeming to favour population control, another insisting we could sustain the future forecast of 10 billion people (with the third speaker falling somewhere into the middle of those two opinions). Each of them had probably 15 minutes to individually make their case, after which there was an audience question and answer session. Of course no concrete conclusions were ever going to be made, but it was nevertheless a stimulating and lively discussion.

UCL Museums organise a number of free talks, exhibitions and even film screenings, on a variety of subjects - head over to their main webpage for more information. 

Tea in a Victorian urinal.

Ever thought it might be nice to have lunch in a public urinal? No? Really? You surprise me. But that was exactly my (first) experience yesterday when I popped along to a newly opened coffee shop situated in Fitzrovia (Foley Street) called Attendant.

Well, ok, it's obviously not actually a public urinal anymore. It was built around 1890 and closed in the 1960s. But Pete Tomlinson and Ben Russell, with a hefty dose of business acumen, decided to buy it, spend around £100,000 on renovation, and re-opened it as a smart little underground cafe which, when I went along, was evidently proving very popular.

The original Doulton & Co. urinals (I counted around 8) have been given a makeover and a raised bar installed, so that customers can sit in their very own urinal space(!) on a high stool, sipping the fine coffee or munching the tasty looking sandwiches that this establishment has to offer. At the back of the small space was a table which would probably seat around 8 or thereabouts.

When I arrived all available seating was taken and there were many other people queuing for food and drink. There were also lots of customers taking photographs. The publicity for this place seems to have aroused much interest and everyone seemed to be enjoying the very quirky and atmospheric space. It's always pleasing to find something new like this, something unique with a bit of character. A welcome change from all the chain outlets.

The original attendants room has now become the kitchen area where a chef prepares a small selection of hot food daily, which is passed through a small serving hatch. Yesterday's options were on a chalkboard above the hatch. 

Other food items are laid out on the main counter: pastries, cakes (made by Bittersweet Bakers) and sandwiches. I thought I'd set them a real test by ordering one of the hot items on offer - a hot dog. I say a real test, because I'm not normally a great fan of hot dogs, but have enjoyed the odd one here and there. Memories of street vendors and dodgy cafes selling tasteless, soggy, messes came to mind. But I was pleasantly surprised when it was served up: on ciabatta, with caramelised onions and mustard - very tasty. Drink-wise I opted for a cup of tea. I asked for English Breakfast, but it was gently emphasised that this wasn't your bog standard 'English Breakfast' I was being served but a special blend in the same style (I can't remember what they called it now I'm afraid!). It arrived in a small, glass, teapot, with a tiny jug of milk.

The place was so full that I initially had to eat standing near where all the utensils were kept (knives, forks, sugar, salt, pepper etc). One of the proprietors came up to chat, asking me what my first impressions were, and told me they'd been open for five weeks. Judging by the amount of trade I saw today I'm guessing they're doing alright. Eventually I was led over to a vacant urinal seat and sat down to enjoy the rest of my lunch.

My hot dog was £5.25 and when the tea was added it totalled up to over £8.00, but this may have included a charge to eat in (I was too distracted to take note, visually exploring the rest of the surroundings). A tad pricey but worth it. In conclusion, I liked it - certainly a different kind of lunch experience. I will definitely head back from time to time and treat myself to some of the other wonderful looking food and drink on offer, particularly the cakes and pastries. Recommended. Oh, and one final note - ironically, there are no toilets!

Jack the Ripper: The Making of the Myth

The Jack the Ripper murders: what more can be said about them? This year marks the 125th anniversary of those horrific crimes. Countless words have been written since, expounding endless theories on who might have carried out what many generally regard to be the most famous serial killings in history. And still, to this day, there is a continuing fascination with what has become an iconic, if grisly, part of London's history.

It's that same fascination that led me to attend this talk, my 4th Jack the Ripper themed event in the last 6 months, in a room above The Bell, a pub in Middlesex Street near Aldgate, organised by the London Fortean Society on Thursday 28 February: Jack the Ripper: The Making of the Myth. The talk was based on a book of the same name and given by the author of said book (and London tour guide), John Bennett. 

My own interest in this part of London's history began in 1988, the 100th anniversary of the Ripper murders, when they were quite heavily featured in the media, with a proliferation of books and TV shows etc. The subject piqued my interest and I subsequently purchased a book, published the previous year, which outlined every single theory ever put forward up to that point, along with much background information about the sequence of events leading up to and during the 'Autumn of Terror', called 'Jack the Ripper: Summing up and Verdict' by Colin Wilson and Robin Odell (out of print now I believe). It was an excellent read and it prompted me to do my own walking tour of the five most famous murder sites (some experts believe more murders may have been committed, but the evidence is not as conclusive). Only one site, the first, was more or less unchanged in appearance at that time, but now none of the crime scenes look at all like they did when the murders happened. I learned this on the first of my 4 most recent events mentioned above, a guided walk last October, given by Ripper expert Jenny Phillips. And even John Bennett pointed out that some people find an interest in this subject a bit disturbing or morbid, but don't realise that it entails not only the murders themselves, but the whole background to them; the historical setting, the politics, the unemployment, the suffering of the poor and destitute, the huge indifferences between the East End and the West End of London. But back to my evening . . .

I personally don't believe in anything that requires an individual to suspend their own faculties of logic and reason, so was a bit apprehensive about potentially being drawn into a discussion with one of the Fortean Society attendees about aliens/ghosts/fairies etc, but that was perhaps a bit unfair, and most people actually seemed to be quite nice (although in the post-talk question and answer session I sensed some audience members might have been slightly alarmed by one questioner admitting to having been sectioned, but were reassured when he informed everyone he was now perfectly well).

Once everyone was seated, our host informed us that the evening would begin with the regular LFS monthly round-up of strange and unusual news stories. But this time apparently, we would be treated to hearing them in musical format, a change to the norm, and were introduced to Jude Cowan Monteque, a researcher and archivist for ITN Source in her day job, and described as a 'multi-media artist and musician' on the web link I've provided below. "Oh, this sounds good" I thought to myself. "I wonder what's in store? An acoustic set perhaps? Or maybe an electric piano/synthesizer accompaniment?" No. Jude sat down on a chair in front of us all and produced what appeared to be a mini keyboard. It reminded me of one of those Casio-style keyboards that were first manufactured way back in the 80s. And indeed, once she started 'playing' it, it also sounded like one of those Casio-style keyboards of the 80s. In fact, it could very well have been one of those Casio...well, you get the drift. This 'improvisational' piece of musical entertainment was in reality helped along by a lyric sheet, which Jude clung on to with one hand, while attempting to play her tiny keyboard (complete with tinny-sounding drum machine accompaniment) with the other. I filmed just a brief snippet of her performance, which is posted below.

She had 'an unusual rock'. And an unusual voice too it would seem. But, fair play to her, she got up in front of the audience and had a crack at making the LFS monthly round-up that extra bit entertaining. And she is probably far cleverer, more expressive and more creative than I will ever be. Here's a link to some of her recorded material.

Once Jude had finished her spot, John Bennett then took to the floor and began his presentation proper. The basic premise of his talk was how, over the years since the murders happened, through a variety of influences including public hysteria, urban legend, conspiracy theory, and film and television adaptations based on the multitude of books and articles written on the subject, the Whitechapel Murderer has become something of a folklore figure. A sinister presence prowling in the shadows. A mysterious phantom dressed in a cloak and wearing a top hat, lurking in the alleyways. A man with anatomical knowledge, possibly a doctor or surgeon. In more modern terms, films have continued to enforce that imagery, one of the first being Alfred Hitchcock's 1927 'The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog' (based on the novel published in 1913) and a 1976 publication that was instrumental in re-enforcing the theory that it was a Royal 'that dunnit', Stephen Knight's 'Jack the Ripper: The Final Solution'. Complete rubbish of course and later discredited. But a theory still embraced by many. At one point John was reading out some trailer lines from film posters etc, one from a 1959 production if I recall correctly, which referred to Jack as 'the most diabolical murderer in all the annals of crime'. An audience member piped up 'What about Hitler then?', which generated a wave of laughter.

An entertaining talk, but I came away feeling I hadn't really learned anything I didn't already know. And, strangely for this type of event, John was not on hand afterwards to sell or sign any copies of his book and in fact seemed quite keen to get off home! I chatted with one or two of the attendees afterwards and then had a drink in the bar downstairs, where I was invited to join some of the LFS members at their table. I couldn't chat for long though, due to last trains and all, and soon headed off home. But it will almost certainly not be my last Ripper themed outing and I may even return for a Fortean Society event, which they hold regularly at this venue.         

Sandi Toksvig in conversation

Stratford is a part of London I'm not very familiar with, so it was with interest I headed there on Friday 22 February to see the author, presenter and comedian Sandi Toksvig in conversation about her latest book, 'Valentine Grey', at Stratford East Picturehouse. 

Of Stratford itself I can say very little, other than that the station I arrived at links to a huge, modern looking shopping complex. It took me a while to establish which exit I needed to take to get to the venue. There were apparently two picturehouses, according to a London Underground employee who got a little bit frustrated with me when I asked for directions. I told him I needed to be on the Great Eastern Road. "Ah!" he said "In that case you need to cross the bridge above us, go over it, and down the stairs at the other side. Brings you right out on the Great Eastern Road". "Great" I replied "And how do I get up to the bridge?" (I couldn't see a lift or stairs). "You go up!" he said. "I know that, directly above us you said - but how do I get there?". In slightly more agitated tone: "You take the stairs. Or the lift." (At last, I thought, we were finally getting somewhere). "And where are they then?" At this he sighs and rolls his eyes, then simply points a finger directly out in front of him. I turned to face the direction he was pointing in, only to see a throng of people heading in and out of the station. "So I walk straight ahead? Or straight ahead and turn left perhaps? Or right?" Or maybe he simply wanted me to stand directly below the bridge and jump, bionic man style, up to the walkway itself? With a look of exasperation he began to walk me towards the spot he was apparently pointing to. I stopped him however and said "It's fine, I think I can take it from here thanks" and shook his hand to thank him for all his help. The lifts and stairwell were in fact hidden around a corner directly ahead. I was relieved to find them, as by now I was running quite tight for time. But once over the bridge it was very easy to find the venue and I made it there with around 10 minutes to spare. 

The talk was arranged as part of the 35th anniversary celebrations of Newham Bookshop, an independent, not-for-profit community bookseller, based in East London. Newhams' owner, Vivian Archer, introduced Sandi, along with Virago publisher Lennie Goodings, who would be the interviewer for the evening. The conversation took place in screen 2, a large but very dimly lit auditorium. In fact, it was so dim that there were cries of 'we can't see!' and also 'we can't hear!', so both lights and audio were tweaked to address the problems. 

Sandi read out an extract from Valentine Grey and entertained the audience with many anecdotes. One of my favourites was about her application to audition for her first television role, in a children's programme which I believe was called 'No.73'. The ad for the job asked for candidates to send in a photograph. Sandi, being new then to the whole process, assumed a photo-booth style picture would suffice and subsequently went along to one to have some pictures taken. Due to her petite stature, she was unable to set the stool in the booth to the required height to ensure her whole face was in the photograph. Hence, the end result showed an image of Sandi's face cut off just under the nose area! When the programme makers received the application and photo they were highly amused, thinking it was a deliberate attempt at humour, and so Sandi was invited along to audition! The producers were suitably impressed and she subsequently got the job, presenting the show from 1982 to 1986.

Sandi's CV is very diverse. In a comment from The Guardian on the back of one of her books that I bought at the event this evening, 'Heroines and Harridans: A Fanfare of Fabulous Females', it said 'she makes Stephen Fry look like a layabout'. Which is a fair comment. She has written more than 20 books (for both children and adults), a musical, a TV series, performed in many comedy shows and a number of stage plays, and is currently presenter of The News Quiz on BBC Radio 4, to name just some of her achievements.

After a question and answer session with the audience to close the talk, she reappeared outside in the bar area to sign copies of her latest books. I was amongst the first in the queue and, along with my signed copy, managed to get Sandi's civil partner Debbie (a photographer as luck would have it!) to take a picture of us together. 

She was very nice to talk to and happily chatted away with everyone she was signing for. After getting my book signed I headed straight over to the bar, where I noticed they served Meantime beers (one of my favourite brewers) and enjoyed a couple of bottles of their wonderful pale ale, before finally deciding to head home. 

How Do Surgeons Learn to Operate?

Have you ever wondered how a surgeon learns the skills required to operate on someone? Would it be on a real patient for instance? It's an intriguing thought. An event took place at the Dana Centre, on Wednesday 20 February, attempting to answer just that: How Do Surgeons Learn to Operate? 

I happened to come across this event whilst randomly browsing the web for new ideas and, after initially rousing my interest, I noticed it was only a day or two away from taking place. 'Probably fully booked by now' I thought, but I phoned the venue on the off-chance and discovered that, not only was space still available, but it was completely free to attend! The kind lady I spoke to reserved me a place and sent me an email confirmation.

I got a little lost trying to get there and arrived with only minutes to spare before the event started. The Dana Centre is part of the Science Museum, but in a separate building located just behind it, and is a venue that specialises in adults-only events themed around the big issues in science. This was my first ever visit there (hence getting a little lost!) and I was looking forward to what I hoped would be an illuminating evening.

When I arrived I was directed, from the main reception, down a small flight of stairs, to a lower level area where the event was to take place. I was immediately informed that photographs and video footage would be taken and asked if I had any objections to that, which of course I didn't (although perhaps I should have, not being the most photogenic individual!). The room where the talk/demonstrations were to take place was a long rectangular space. In the middle of the room was a 'stage' area, basically a platform raised a foot or so above the ground. An operating table was set up on the platform, with a latex rubber 'patient' lying across it, covered with a sheet. In a cutaway section in the top of the sheet, inserted into the 'patient', were keyhole surgical instruments. On either side of this stage area were rows of seats, facing inwards. Mounted high at each end of the room was a video screen and a large TV monitor was situated a few feet in front of the operating table.

The event was presented by four different people and the initial introduction was made by Jeff Bezemer, a senior research fellow at the Institute of Education. The evening was quite interactive and Jeff began by requesting the audience participate in a poll. We were asked, in the event of having to undergo surgery, who we would prefer to carry out the operation: a qualified consultant; a trainee surgeon, supervised by the consultant; or no preference, i.e. either one. We used handheld electronic keypads to register our votes.

Predictably, the highest percentage voted for the consultant. We were told we'd be asked this same question again at the end of the talk. Jeff then brought two other people onto the stage, Omar Faiz, consultant surgeon at St Marks Hospital and Alexandra Cope, specialist surgical registrar in the Oxford Deanery. Both of them dressed in full surgical gowns, they basically re-enacted an operation on the colon that was actually performed by a trainee, under the supervision of a consultant. Some original video footage of that operation, from the inside of the patient's abdomen, was used to enhance the re-enactment and we could hear the actual verbal interaction between the consultant and the trainee. This also explained the presence of the TV monitor. In a real operation environment it would be showing the surgeons what was happening inside the patient in close-up detail, via a tiny camera. We in the audience were able to see the real video footage via the aforementioned mounted screens, which was paused at frequent intervals so that Omar and Alexandra could explain exactly what was happening at each stage, giving us an insight into the decisions for carrying out each incision/action on the patient. Their commentary was analysed by the fourth presenter, Roger Kneebone, professor of surgical education at Imperial College London.

After the re-enactment finished, the audience were invited to pitch questions to all the presenters. At the end of this we were once again asked to vote on our preference of surgeon and, as one might have expected, overall opinion had changed, with the highest percentage coming out in favour of either consultant or trainee, i.e. no preference. The audience were obviously impressed at the high level of assistance and guidance given to the trainee and reassured that every single step was carefully monitored.

We were then invited to go and talk to the presenters informally and discuss any issues involving surgical procedure. We also had the opportunity to have a go ourselves: a couple of mock-ups had been created for anyone interested to get a feel of what it's like to carry out keyhole surgery. One was a fake body-cavity, complete with internal organs(!) ...

... and the other was a plastic torso inserted with the same keyhole surgical instruments as the stage 'patient' and a smaller TV monitor, displaying the cavity inside (which contained mini pasta shells that could be picked up using the 'pincers' at the end of the tools!). 

Although the venue had a bar, not a drop touched my lips (he's lying I hear you say!), but plenty of others had a tipple and I had an interesting chat with one or two attendees and the guy who had set up the dummy 'patient', before finally deciding to head off. Must remember to keep an eye on this venue. Very interesting, informative and educational event. And offered free to the public. Well done Dana Centre!

Capital Tales: Wonderful London II

Harry Parkinson and Frank Miller were two British filmmakers of the 1910s and 20s. Amongst the many films they made together were a series, in 1924, of just over 20 travelogues, each averaging around 10 minutes in length, based on a popular fortnightly magazine of the period called Wonderful London. The films focused largely on the lesser known areas of the capital: the parts neglected by your average visitor. Their historical value has become more significant in the ensuing years, as many of the locations they filmed have subsequently disappeared, leaving behind this rare footage of their existence. 

In 2011, the BFI compiled a selection of these films for show, gleaned from their National Archive, which was a sell-out, and so decided to repeat the success with another compilation on Friday, 15 February, at BFI Southbank with Capital Tales: Wonderful London II. Not having seen the original selection I thought I'd go along and sample the second offering. 

BFI Southbank was formerly known as the National Film Theatre and has been in existence at this location since 1957. The complex has three cinemas and a studio space: the cinema showing this programme was suitably large and very comfortable indeed. In fact the seats were just about the comfiest I've ever sat in to watch a film. 

The selection was introduced in person by Bryony Dixon, Silent Film Curator at the BFI National Archive, who set the scene with a brief history of the series. She explained that the shorts were not in any restored state and warned the audience to expect some 'scratching', jumps and shakiness due to the rough quality of the footage. 

Throughout the showing, the audience were also treated to live musical accompaniment from Stephen Horne, who was billed as pianist, but in fact played flute and accordion too, at the same time in some parts! Very talented. Seven shorts were screened in all, including some with subtitles, possibly written by someone who had a family connection to Dick Van Dyke, judging by the comical 'mockney' phrasing used, much to the general amusement of the audience. In one, a Cockney coster tries to encourage his moke (donkey) to travel to a number of famous London locations, when all the poor donkey wants to do is go home! In another, the driver of a horse-drawn carriage treats his passengers to a running commentary of the history of various places he drives them past. 

Titles shown included 'London's Outer Ring', 'Dickens' London', London Old and New', and 'London's Contrasts'. Some of the landmarks (no longer with us) that appeared in these shorts were the Crystal Palace near Sydenham Hill (destroyed by fire in 1936) and Jacob's Island in Bermondsey (an area immortalised in Dickens's novel 'Oliver Twist', but extensively bombed during the Second World War). 

After the film finished I decided I'd try a beer in the adjoining bar/cafe, called The Riverfront. A nice place, but one was enough (I was still feeling a bit delicate, trying to overcome a virus I'd recently acquired) and I left for the quieter and more relaxing surroundings of the member's bar in the Royal Festival Hall for one last drink before finally heading home.