Category: Photography
Special Spetses x
This is where we’ve been, so this re-cycled post seems fitting..
My connection to the island of Spetses goes back two generations when my grandparents were first offered land there to build a holiday home away from the pollution of Athens. They’d travelled to Greece from the highlands of Scotland following the depression – the story goes that my Grandfather, Robert Mackenzie, a Classics Scholar, was offered a job sweeping the floor of the EMI factory. Something went wrong with one of the machines and he fixed it..and then rose quickly through the ranks to become managing Director of EMI in Greece at a very special time: it was the cheapest place in Europe to record and make records and consequently drew talent talent from across the board from the Beatles to Maria Callas. My father was born there, although he was sent back to boarding school in the Lake District at aged five..it used to take him two days of travel by plane with a pit stop in Rome to get home, all in a converted Lancaster Bomber.
In my grandparents time, this house was the inspiration for John Fowles’s book, The Magus – he taught English at the once famous school (now a conference centre) on the island, said to be the Greek equivalent of Eton, he would walk all over the island in the quiet of the winter months in search of solitude and ideas. The house was owned by an eccentric millionaire and was then (before the great fire: another story) hidden from view by layers of huge pine trees. As a child, I went there for tea with my Grandmother to be shown faberge eggs and ancient seals. I don’t remember it, but I do remember the millionaire ended up in jail for forging an ancient land deed..with a biro.
Just down the valley is the bay where my parent’s house is…virtually unchanged. This picture is taken from the balcony of my sister’s parents-in-law’s house….Greece lies deep within the family blood and it’s special to have a proper Greek family that has linked the time and generations together.
My sister’s In-law’s house is next door to Madame Pourri’s on the hill – she’ll be ninety this year and is still going strong with a swim every day…….she was evacuated on the same boat with my grandmother and my father as a small child when the Germans invaded in the Second World War…first to Egypt, then eventually to South Africa.
They spoilt us with a treat normally reserved for Easter…roast lamb..my absolute favourite!
Bella and Charlie are now the third generation to enjoy this special place and it’s unique atmosphere, where even walking on water is possible…
Spetses is famous for it’s pine tress, crystal clear waters and the coloured stones on the beaches: yellow, green, pink..each one a gem.
It’s very much an Athenian resort island with a siren call to all the big yachts of the Mediterranean and a play ground for the super rich….but always over seen by Laskarina Bouboulina…an incredible lady with seven children from Spetses who became an General of the Greek fleet and an Admiral of Russia and led the Greek navy in the battle of independence against the Turks….Greece will always be a land of beauty, mystery and contradictions where anything..absolutely anything is possible…
Leaving, as we arrived on a speed boat – we were all sad to go, but we had another adventure ahead of us..to the island of Lefkada…and we’ll be back….it’s only au revoir..
Laters, Kate x
Le Shopping..
Shopping in Brighton is a smorgasbord of instant gratification.
With Delicacies round every corner.
I found my Vintage 501’s at Dirty Harrys on Sydney Road..great selection, impeccable service..and all 3 pairs (!) (one shorter to roll, one in dark navy *rather lush* and one long pair)..came to the grand sum of £35!
So I added in a pair of battered cowboy boots..
And a beautiful vintage silk kimono from Wolf and Gypsy (well worth a visit).
much cake and tea was had in celebration.
After which The Husband wanted to buy me this.
I wanted to buy him this…
My favourite place for lunch or High Tea..not posh, just warm, genuine and eccentric.
With doughnuts the size of cannonballs. Who could resist?
And these catseye sunnies somehow just purred their way into my possession..
Just the perfect place, with the perfect company to gently put the world to rights.
Can I go again?
Laters, Kate x
Dismaland
Dismaland: Because this was a highlight last year..brings back a few memories…
Dismaland:The temporary art project set up by the street artist Banksy in an abandoned lido in the quietly rotting seaside town of Weston Super Mare. Banksy writes in his opening welcome: ‘Bertolt Brecht once said ‘Art is not a mirror held up to reality but a hammer with which to shape it’. Which is fine, but what if you’re in a hall of mirrors and the giant hammer is made of foam? This is the question raised by Dismaland Bemusement Park’.
And so it begins…
Birthed from the detritus of Disney, with bored attendants, patches of weeds and artistic despair, this decaying edifice to humanity is set on a 2.5 acre site with works from more than 50 artists from 17 different countries. It’s an instagramer’s delight, a visual sensation and a walk on the whacky, dark, black side.
A play on double standards starts immediately, from the genuine bag search on the street (anarchy has it’s place, no spray cans allowed here) to the fabricated threat of Bill Barminksi’s cardboard screening room. What’s real and what isn’t?
Inside it’s hard to know where to look first..the children slide riot van?
The sadistic carousel? Tesco would be so pleased..
Or the Big Rig jig, defying explanation or gravity.
There are traditional stalls – each with their own unique twist.
Knock the anvil over – with a ping pong ball and yay! you win the anvil! Hit the anvil and you win a red bracelet that reads ‘this is a meaningless bracelet’. Didn’t stop me wanting one. And then you ask yourself why even attempt the futile? Except we did. And failed.
Or maybe hooking a duck from the muck has a greater chance of success – except the punters have run off with all the ducks – and it’s all for a paper fishfinger in a bag..
Dominating the park is the dilapidated fairytale castle of broken dreams. ‘Step inside’, say the downcast attendants, ‘See how it really feels to be a princess’..
Through the darkness is the car-crash of Cinderella’s coach, her dying body illuminated by the flashes of pap’s cameras. We’re looking at them, looking at us..feeding us, feeding them..
Sometimes it’s the smaller, allegedly quieter stuff that catches the eye..
Sometimes the message is so strong to the extent you feel sleazy and ambushed with dirty fluids. This isn’t a place that brands itself on palatable.
The art wants you to look, not just spectate. to take part and not just consume..which is a line that is all too easily crossed. How many people are there walking around with the balloons stating ‘I am an imbecile’? Or actually taking selfies in the selfie hole?
Did these people really understand what they were doing? Did they nod sagely knowing they were doing this ironically? But then their ignorance becomes part of the point.
This isn’t a place for children despite there being works designed with them in mind..like the depressed, drunk Mr Rainbow puffing fumes over his tired playground..
Or The Husband’s favourite: Pocket Money Loans
Where the devil was in the detail.
Take a seat in a stripey deckchair and watch Punch and Judy landing a punch with a Jimmy Savile themed show..
Put up your feet at the Jeffrey Archer memorial pit fire. He’s still alive but a book of his dies every day.
Come into one of three galleries to wander round at your leisure. Meet the baby in the vending machine, covered in logos by Dietrich Wegner, guaranteed to make you ponder life.
Meet Jessica Harrison’s distortion of suburban tranquility.
Wonder if Severija Incirauskaite-Kriauneviciene is her real name or is just another trick of the mind. The art – tapestries made with power tools, certainly had a kick.
Banksy has pulled it off: It’s hard to be underground when you’re hailed as a national treasure by the very people you want to vilify, but that’s part of the conundrum that makes Banksy’s Dismaland so very special – it’s a spoof on the British holiday by the sea – take it seriously and you miss the point, and yet it quietly smiles through blackened teeth and grittily mocks: don’t understand this at your peril…
Impeccably crafted and precision cut, deeply unsettling yet strangely entertaining it’s so good, it can’t be legal..and probably isn’t.
Laters, Kate x
Wednesdays Child..
And so the day starts…
Right everyone – have you all been for a wee? Shoes on? As there are 3 of you and only 2 large scooters and one smaller one, I’d be really grateful if you Charlie, as the smallest child, would use the smaller scooter today.
No. I don’t want to.
It would really help me if you could be a gentleman and help your Mummy.
No. I don’t want to.
I realise that, but I’d really appreciate it if you could help me.
I don’t want to.
Well, I don’t want to take 3 children to the playground, but I’m still going.
I don’t want the small scooter, I want the big one.
I’d like you to help me, can you do that?
No.
OK. Well, no Harry Potter Land on Friday.
But I want to go to Harry Potter Land.
So go on the scooter.
I don’t want to go on the scooter.
So then no Harry Potter Land.
But I want to go to Harry Potter Land.
Charlie, I’m going to count to 3..after that no Harry potter Land, 1,2..
(moves to scooter, we leave the relative safety of the house)
But I want the big scooter.
(Ignore, shut door)
I want the big scooter, I want the big scooter, I WANT THE BIG SCOOTER
Charlie, LOOK at me, do you want to go to Harry Potter Land? Yes? So tell me what you have to do..
But I want the big scooter.
JUST THERE! – did you spot that purple spotted fairy just hiding behind the car? Not there now?..I’m sure it was..look again..Maybe you’ll see it next time..Why don’t you just go and play with the girls?
Go away Charlie.
Bella please be nice, you have a friend.
But Mummy, Mummy, Charlie is being really horrible.
Charlie – why do you need to ride in the middle of the girls?..just ride to the side of them ..and don’t touch their wheels..
But I want to ride in the middle of them.
I’ve told you not to. It’s dangerous.
Does it again.
CHARLIE you are going to cause an accident.
Does it again.
(Sit him on kerb to talk to at eye level) Charlie, if you can’t act properly I will take your scooter away. Do you understand? What did I just say – repeat it back to me…
You’ll take my scooter away.
Do you understand? Right, let’s go..
Mummy – he’s done it again!
Charlie – WHY did you do that??
(Take scooter to add to dog, poo bags, picnic, picnic rug, kite, football, cricket bat, cricket ball, stumps. skipping rope…)
I WANT MY SCOOTER!
I WANT MY SCOOTER!
I wANT MY SCOOTER!
Not until you can learn to behave.
I will behave.
So prove it to me.
Goes up to Bella, hits her.
CHARLIE BENTLEY. COME HERE NOW…
I want a cuddle.
Not until you’ve said sorry Bella and sorry to me and YOU STOP THIS HORRIBLE BEHAVIOUR. THERE WILL BE NO HARRY POTTER LAND ON FRIDAY WHICH WAS GOING TO KILL US ANYWAY AS YOUR FATHER’S FLIGHT FROM HONG KONG DOESN’T GET IN TILL FIVE IN THE MORNING AND THE DOG HAS TO GO TO THE POSH VET FOR ANOTHER APPOINTMENT (long story) SO QUITE FRANKLY I’LL BE MIGHTY PLEASED NOT TO GO BECAUSE IT’S NOT EXACTLY MY IDEA OF A FUN DAY OUT..
I want a cuddle, I want a cuddle.
WHAT DO YOU SAY CHARLIE?
I want a cuddle.
WWWHHHAAAATTTT DDDDOOO YYYOOOUUUU SSSSAAAAYYYY?????
Sorry Bella…Sorry Mummy…
Gives kisses, has cuddle.
But I want the big scooter…
Find brick wall. Hit head.
Moral of this tale: When you see a mother tearing her hair out..
a. Honest to God..give her some sympathy..she’s been doing this for weeks now..schools in the UK broke up in July and don’t go back till September.
b. It’s probably me…………………………
Laters, Kate x
The sitting Room x
The advantage of doing all the decorating from our building works myself is there’s been something in the pot to buy a few treats like this Hans Wegner wishbone chair.
A pair of them now sit in pride of places at either end of our dining room table. What love.
The extra bonus were the large boxes the chairs arrived in which were quickly commandeered by the children. Who needs toys?
But it hasn’t all been treats and joy. This was the sitting room on Sunday..
A much needed bookcase went up meaning the final boxes could be unpacked. These are original midcentury tomado shelves – the choice surprised me as well.
Probably a good thing as we have guests for the next two weeks and at last the spare room is liveable in.
The sitting room isn’t finished (check out the plastic storage tub by the yellow chair, part of our sad tv storage) – it still has some organic growth to go – but it’s a huge improvement.
And lots of pictures have finally gone up.
The footstool still doesn’t have it’s cover on – it’s meant to be white, but I’ve got some lavender coloured dye waiting in the wings…
Slowly. But surely.
Laters, Kate x
Shibori..
Yesterday was spent teaching a group of friends (I’m a rep for Charlie’s class) how to shibori tie-dye. It’s something I love to do with its heady mixture of deep indigo, spontaneity, freedom and promise.
I’ve posted about it before (here) but this year was a little bit different/lessons learnt – the scarfs are longer (2m – possibly the perfect length) and the dye is a new one: If you’re making a large dye bath with the more commonly used Dylon, it’s hard to keep the solution warm so I went for a procion dye that works with cold water (it’s the dye they use for batik dying) and it produced excellent results. If you want more info on dyes and techniques, check out this website (makes me wish I lived in Bognor)..this is a brilliant craft for kids in the summer..and imagine on duvet covers, sheets..or even larger pieces of furniture! Bella spent her evening after school dying..socks!
Gloves are always useful..
This may be old school..but it’s still the best.
Laters, Kate x
Summertime x
We’ve been away in Hampshire for the last days of half term, chewing the cud, smelling the new summer air and enjoying the freedom.
Simple pleasures.
Laters, Kate x
The Sitting Room x
Charlie, The Husband and I went to Twickenham on Sunday to see England v Wales (cr*p kicking but a great match). Before we left there was a huge discussion about the weather..hot? Cold? Rain? Snow? The general consensus was if the sun was shining it would be hot…but it wasn’t…so we dressed for winter. We got there…the sun came out…and we all fried like sirloin steaks on a barbie. Today, in contrast the heavens have opened and we’re probably getting the months rain in one day which means we’re all stuck inside as it’s half term. I’ve declared it a creative day, with my creative project being to paint the sitting room.
(I’ve been desperate to paint these velux windows white since they first went in)
The walls also need a lot of work where we had a leak (all fixed by the builders) and general 10 years of wear and tear.
I’ve surprised myself by sticking to brilliant white but it works on multiple levels: The ceiling with all it’s variation in height is blended together with the eye drawn to the highest point, the skirting board radiator that runs round the edge of the room disappears, and finally..there’s a fairly eclectic mix of furniture in this room that the white pulls together (spot the latest edition..my seventies table light..probably deserves a separate post).
I did all the prep work for half the room yesterday..I’m hoping I can get it all finished by tomorrow.
Not easy when the kids are off school for half term..for instance, I couldn’t find my phone yesterday – not a huge hardship as we’re not biologically linked. But it eventually turned up in Bella’s room, tuned to You Tube and a video about ‘Women making graffitti for the first time’ …if you’re mentally away..the mice play..
Laters, Kate x
Staircarpet and Cellar x
I finally grasped my courage with both hands and, bored of lifting boxes, fitted the stair carpet down to the new cellar.
Taking things seriously, I invested £40 in a heavy duty staple and nail gun (I’m hoping there will be options for more uses…like the main stairs). It worked really well – you have to use two hands which just means reduced chance of accidents. The only downside was I initially bought the wrong staples – even if the packaging/name looks the same, read the small numbers on the staple box carefully, otherwise it’s a return journey to the DIY shop to buy the right ones. I used 12 mm staples.
I also ordered some carpet grip from Ebay (the sort of stuff you lay under rugs to stop them from slipping). The thought process was that I wasn’t worried about slippage from laying the pile in the wrong way, as there was no pile, but I was aware that kilim is a thinner type of rug and wanted to give it some support regarding pulling from the staples and feet.
Then it was the simple matter of laying a piece of underlay with carpet grip and stapling it into place.
For the carpet, I pencilled off on each stair where the carpet should run centrally (7 cm on each side for me). Then the lines in the design were a big bonus, helping to keep everything straight and on track.
Finally it was the simple matter of stapling under the nose of the riser, in the middle and at either end. And again where the step meets the riser and working down. The last bit of kilim was folded up, tucked under and stapled away. Job done.
The cellar itself has changed considerably as boxes have been unpacked.
It’s now probably one of the most relaxing places in the house..time takes on a new dimension here..if only I could hide it away from the kids…
Laters, Kate x
Crittall..
Well..the Crittall glass is finally in..and has completely changed the room. Hard to describe how – it feels very, very grown up.
Of course it wasn’t all plain sailing, because unless I’m secretly Harry Potter I shouldn’t be able to do this. They need another trip to replace a section of glass that got broken..and another that was defective. Third time lucky hey…
Laters, Kate x
Maison Bentley Style 