Rowley Gallery Blog
Meghalaya's Living Bridges – Incredible India by dm_50ac6337ca078
In North-East India, in The Land Of Clouds, people have found an ingenious natural solution to the challenge of crossing a torrential flood river. Conventional bridges would be swept away, so they have devised a kind of slow organic joinery.
I sometimes describe Rowley Gallery picture-frames as slow frames, but 500 years to build a bridge makes them seem instant!
She was not always in the best of health, all those cigarettes, all that rum. But it’s still a shock that she’s gone. Her voice made you feel close to her. Here’s a reminder of how beautiful she could be.
A not to be missed film telling the story of an Amy Winehouse performance before an audience of 85 in a little church in Ireland in 2006, to be broadcast next Monday, July 23rd at 10pm on BBC4 – Arena.
After listening to his records for the past 45 years, I finally got to see Taj Mahal play live last week at the Queen Elizabeth Hall in London. I don’t know what took me so long but it was worth the wait. He’s just so full of music. One moment you could swear you’re listening to Howling Wolf, then Mississippi John Hurt and even at times Otis Redding. He’s a voice of resurrection. He gave us rocking bar-room electric blues and gently swaying acoustic country blues with touches of scat singing, reggae, calypso, Celtic flavoured banjo picking and a beautiful surprise duet with Baaba Maal. And also Fishing Blues.
I just saw this sweet video and couldn’t resist it for Frames of Reference. I can remember building stuff and wishing for an audience too. It’s instinctive. It’s what boys do. But this little boy is a prodigy.
Here is a little piece about Greg Becker if you can find it. I probably should have been able to edit it but that degree of sophistication is beyond me at the moment. Please go forward to 3:40 and continue until 7:20.
This is for pigeons and their religions and for all our daddies too. Sock it to us Sammy!
Danny Baker recommended this video. It’s very cute. But it seems I’m behind the times. Apparently it went viral about six months ago. It wears well, it still sounds good to me. It’s a little bit like a playground clapping song. It is performed by three members of Swedish choral group Erato sitting around the kitchen table with empty margarine cartons, handclaps and sweet vocal harmony.
King’s Cross station has a new concourse, enclosed by a beautiful, sculptural roof which grows from a steel trunk and spreads into a tree-like canopy of intersecting branches. They meet the ground along the semi-circular perimeter, which is a continuation of the arc of the Great Northern Hotel, which was in turn shaped by the curve around a bend of the River Fleet. Continue reading “A Walk From King’s Cross (With Labels)”
Not very long ago I visited a colleague at his studio. I’d been there before once or twice but this time I noticed a beautifully framed photograph high up on the wall opposite his work table. It was of Django Rheinhardt, watching over him like a guardian angel. It reminded me of a piece I’d read by Geoff Dyer about his musical hero, Don Cherry, and how he always liked to have a photograph of him above his desk. Don Cherry was a humble and sincere musical voice with a gregarious spirit, often finding the common thread linking music from different cultures, and I decided then he should be up there on my workshop wall too. His music has been with me since his days playing with Ornette Coleman and I followed all his explorations into what has since become known as World Music. He opened lots of doors and what he found there was always another aspect of himself.
Continue reading “Cherry Street”