Tim Arnold at The 12 Bar Club

I had the great pleasure of attending a gig last week by Tim Arnold, a singer/songwriter of some repute, who has been recording albums, mainly as a solo artist, since 1997. His first success came as singer and songwriter of Britpop band Jocasta. Since 2012 he has also performed under the name of The Soho Hobo. 

It was the first time I’d seen Tim play; the set was full of jaunty numbers, interspersed with some more introspective pieces. The gig took place at The 12 Bar Club, an iconic establishment close to Soho, and being quite 'cosy', I thought it might be just Tim and his guitar, but the stage did allow room for a drummer, bassist and guitarist in addition to Tim, beefing out some great songs. The musical style was reminiscent of the halcyon days of Britpop, with a ring of Blur and a smattering of Ray Davies, blended with a quality that was all Tim's own - catchy ditties belting out one after the other and performed with energy and enthusiasm.

Tim described the club as a place he'd loved playing at over the years and would often try out new songs there, as indeed he did at this gig, treating the audience to several brand new numbers. Behind all the jollity lay the poignant reminder that The 12 Bar Club was due to close just days later. So it was Tim's last ever gig there and must have been an emotional experience, as indeed I'm sure it was for many of the audience.

For me, another bittersweet aspect was that, to my shame, having worked in London most of my life, I'd never been to the club before. And here I was, at the venue for the very first time, really enjoying it, but knowing I'd never be able to experience it again. I will say in my defence however, that the main reason for this is that I rarely attend music events these days because I suffer with tinnitus, ironically caused (I believe) through noise damage during my own days playing in bands (nearly twenty years on and off). But this gig sounded extra special and I didn't want to miss it.

Why is the club closing? The age old reason; the owner wanting to sell up to big business. I spoke to the club manager, Andy Lowe, who had managed the venue and booked all the excellent acts that had appeared there for the past 20 or so years. He was understandably very sad at the prospect of leaving, but informed me that The 12 Bar Club will resurface again at another location very shortly. It had been there, in Denmark Street, for 20 years and had been a launching pad for a number of now well known artists, such as KT Tunstall, Regina Spektor, The Libertines, Seasick Steve, Adele and the late Jeff Buckley. One positive note was that Andy believed the building would not be razed to the ground by whoever ended up in ownership, because it was now protected after a successful campaign to get it listed. It was once, he informed me, a Jacobean forge, which was in use right up until the beginning of the First World War. The original forge fireplace is still visible at the back of the stage. It first became a music venue in the early 1990s, as 'The Forge Folk and Blues Club', but in 1994 it was expanded and renamed The 12 Bar Club.

While Andy acknowledged that there was still a tiny glimmer of hope that the club might return to this location, it seems unlikely in reality. And so it goes, with other parts of London's cultural and creative heritage also under threat. One prime area under particular threat at present is Soho itself, with the recent closure of Madame JoJo's and the uncertainty of other venues as developers eye up the area in the upheaval caused by the ongoing Crossrail project.

And this is also where Tim Arnold has a strong connection and influence. A Soho resident himself, he recently founded the 'Save Soho' campaign, which describes itself as 'a coalition of performers, residents and politicians who have now come together out of concern after the closure and repossession of world renowned club Madame JoJo's'. Famous faces aplenty have lined up to become involved, including Stephen Fry, who is the campaign chair. It has already resulted in what is hoped will be a positive dialogue between campaigners, businesses, Westminster Council and the Mayor of London, Boris Johnson, keen to keep the uniquely bohemian vibe that Soho has been so well known for, nurturing new creative and artistic talent for decades. If you love the area yourself, I'd urge you to take a look at the website, leave comments and spread the word. London simply wouldn't be the same without Soho.

Tim is currently in the process of recording a single to help promote the campaign, a song he's written called 'Don't Go Changin' Soho', which includes contributions from a number of famous faces in the music world; already confirmed to appear on the track are Marc Almond, Gary Kemp, Boy George and Adam Ant. More are expected to be announced shortly. A certain Mr McCartney has even been approached (his MPL offices are in Soho)!

You can hear the song at Tim's next gig, which will be at the St Moritz Club in Wardour Street, Soho, on 23 January. Come along and enjoy and don't forget to check out Tim's website, his Soho Hobo website and of course the Save Soho website. 

The real return.

Since my last post in 2014, it has become clearly evident that I wasn't ready at all to return to blogging. One of the key reasons for this was, that within a few short months of that post, I had a bit of a life crisis; I left my job of more than 14 years and decided to take my chances and look for another job opportunity. A bit risky in the current economic climate but, after temping on and off for a few months, I finally fell back into full time employment and I'm now settled in a new workplace and earning a regular crust.

And so I say that NOW is the time I can think about a return to writing the blog! No, really. As I mentioned in the last post, people still read the old ones (to my continuing surprise) and for those that enjoyed them I wanted to get some new posts up. I think it's about time!

So, I hope you enjoy my future ramblings. And thank you in advance for reading!

2013: the missing months.

After such a busy and enjoyable run of social/cultural excursions in 2012, I wasn't certain whether or not I could keep up the momentum of activity throughout 2013. There was no need for doubt however, as my ingrained enthusiasm to continue onwards ultimately ensured that, by year's end, I had actually managed to surpass the total number of outings of the year previous. Many of those experiences I would have liked to blog about; indeed, with some I did and with others may still attempt to, but most will probably now go unrecorded, as there were just too many. Suffice to say, it was another busy year and I treated myself to a wide variety of activities. 

To give you a flavour, here's a brief summary of just some of the things I got up to last year: a visit to the London Short Film Festival at the ICA; Stargazing LIVE event at Regents Park; Fuerzabruta at the Roundhouse; Helen Keen's Spacetacular! at the Leicester Square Theatre; The Architects: Shunt at The Biscuit Factory; Light Show at the Hayward Gallery; Rich Hall's Hoedown at the Soho Theatre; How Do Surgeons Learn to Operate? at The Dana Centre; Sandi Toksvig in conversation at the Stratford Picturehouse; Have I got News for Thee! at Dr Johnson's House; several days in Norwich (taking in a number of historic venues); In the Beginning was the End at Somerset House; Helicopter experience over London; An Evening with William Russell (Doctor Who companion) at The Cinema Museum; Music, Ho! Shakespearean Music Concert at The Underglobe; Kino #50 at The Horse Hospital; Surgery by Gaslight at The Old Operating Theatre; an evening with Lucy Worsley at the Banqueting House; Bullet Catch at The Shed; several visits to Wilton's Music Hall; Zoo Lates at ZSL London Zoo; Doctor Who Live: The Next Doctor at Elstree Studios; Oedipus and Antigone at The Scoop at More London; several events at The Royal Institution of Great Britain; several events at Barts Pathology Museum; Twelfth Night or What You Will at The Rose Theatre; candlelit viewing at Sir John Soane's Museum; a visit to the Museum of Brands in Notting Hill; Aldwych Underground Station Tour; Ernest at the Etcetera Theatre; The Drowned Man: A Hollywood Fable at Temple Studios; Gliding experience in the skies of Oxfordshire at Bicester Gliding Centre; a couple of days in Brighton; and many, many more examples ... 

For now, it's the end of February and I've already notched up the same number of outings as this time last year. I was out pretty much every night for the first couple of weeks of January and am now settling back into a slightly calmer schedule as the weeks progress. As the rest of 2014 beckons, there's hopefully lots more ahead.

Back in the world.

When I started writing this blog, a friend of mine, who'd been instrumental in helping me set it all up in the first place, told me I shouldn't attempt to blog about absolutely everything I do, as it would simply be impossible to keep on top of. And, while I certainly took that advice on board, inside I kind of considered it to be something of a challenge: of course I could do it if I really tried ... couldn't I? But ultimately, the truth of the matter was, my friend was right. With two jobs that collectively take up six days of my week and a social life that once prompted Matt Brown, founder of the Londonist website, to once remark to me "Even I don't go out that much!", it was always going to be an uphill struggle finding the time to write about my activities.

Initially, the blog writing started fairly well, but then tapered off a bit as I became busier and busier. This continued for a few months, and then, something terrible happened. Completely unexpectedly, in the middle of last year, my mother had a fall at her home and was taken to hospital. A very difficult period followed, culminating, sadly, in her passing away in September. She never made it back home. I was devastated. I had spent the last six days of her life by her bedside. In the months leading up to that moment, I had endeavoured to continue with my cultural/social pursuits. I was aware she derived pleasure from the fact that I wasn't taking life for granted and that I was always out and about and this knowledge kept pushing me forward, as I tried to continue with normality. And it was nice from time to time to be able to tell her all about my activities and she seemed to enjoy hearing my stories. Now, she has gone, and it's more important than ever that I keep busy and continue doing the things I love.  

In terms of the blog, which had already been quite a demand before, after my mother's fall, it naturally dried up altogether. But now, here we are, a new year just begun, and I have finally reached a place where I feel ready to begin writing some new entries again. 

People still seem to be reading the older entries, which has been a very pleasant and unexpected surprise, but I hope I can now provide some newer posts for those who enjoy them (and it appears there are one or two of you out there). I hope you'll bear with me while I get back up to speed. 

It's good to be back in the world again.

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!