Today has been a fun day, with a dash of gallic flavour. C’est bonne, ca.

Around midday we headed down to the Secret Cinema at Leake Street, the tunnels underneath Waterloo. As usual with Secret Cinema we had no idea what film was going to be shown, just general instructions on what to wear (50s/60s European with a white scarf) and where to turn up. I knew that Secret Cinema involved re-enactments of the film around seeing the film itself, but not much more than that. So, looking a lot smarter than usual for a Saturday afternoon, we rocked up to Leake Street to find a large queue of people entering, and lots of soldiers herding people along, all talking French. I was ‘lucky’ enough to be singled out by the soldiers, and made to stand with my hands against the wall as my identification documents were confiscated. Then after some minutes myself and the other detainees were taken to a dark room, followed by an indoctrination talk with spotlights in our eyes where we were asked to sign out name as belonging to a terrorist organisation. Even knowing that this was all an act it was pretty unnerving, especially when a planted audience member was taken to one side, beaten and thrown in a prison cell to be tortured. Magnifique!

Eventually all us detainees were allowed into the main area, which consisted of a fake souk, food stalls and a bar offering white russians. Could the movie be the Big Lebowski? Perhaps not. After negotiating with someone in French at the casbah I had some new fake identification, one French and one Arabic, with instructions to get a new stamp from a man round the corner. He greeted me as a fellow revolutionary, hugging and showing me his suitcase bombs then giving me a stamp for my French fake ID. My limited Arabic was ignored, thankfully he helped me anyway.. shukran. Then it was off to the Air France counter for a one way ticket to Paris, before that was later blown up and we were suddenly herded into the cinema proper. Finally the film started, it was the 1966 black and white French film, The Battle of Algiers, telling the tale of the Algerian revolution as the French tried to suppress the Algerian freedom fighters/terrorists. Although an old film, it was incredibly relevant to modern days and highly engaging. Good show, even if it wasn’t my original movie guess of Brazil.

I love events like Secret Cinema and suspect we will see increasing numbers of this sort of thing as modern media struggles to keep up with our changed attention spans and home cinema systems. Last week in New York I was lucky enough to see the new Punchdrunk show, Sleep No More, a dark, dance extravaganza set across five floors in three warehouses that I highly recommend you check out as they’ve extended their run till June. Although a very different beast, the high art of modern dance versus the ‘lower’ art of cinema, both events engage you in a similar way – you have a very unique experience, that generally equates to the more you put in, the more you get out – as opposed to normal media experience that is just a passive ’sit and receive’ transaction.

Punchdrunk are particularly good at these engaged experiences, creating dark, cavernous spaces with literally no clues as to where you find the actual show. You can walk around for the entire time and see no performance at all, just fellow spectators where masques. Then suddenly you find a performer who you watch and follow as you choose. These performers could just be walking along, or suddenly they could do the most amazing dances up walls, or get naked in a techno rave or just grab you and look at you intently then run off elsewhere. How you react to the performance is up to you, but the more you put in by following the performers – sometimes running up stairs at a quick pace (so glad I’ve been running more recently) – the more you get back by finding strange hidden rooms and wonderful experiences that stay with you. In my head I have this image of a sea of masked faces watching one of the performers disrobe and stand in front of a bathtub that will likely stay with me the rest of my life, a scene that likely few other people have as opposed to the exact shared images of every movie or stage show. A Punchdrunk show is an experience I recommend to everyone without exception.

However in the absence of any more engaged experiences today, the French theme continued with the biopic Gainsbourg, a movie about the troubled musical genius, Serge Gainsbourg. More good stuff and highly recommended, especially si tu veut pratiquer ta francais. Et maintenant, bonne nuit a tous. A demain.

Click here for more photos of Kyoto

Ah, the sudden flurry of uploading strikes again. This time for the amazing Japanese city of Kyoto, home to geisha and temples, plus it ranks highly on quality of life and when you visit you’ll see why. Unlike nearby Tokyo, Kyoto mostly stays low to the ground, a few stories high. There are fast moving major streets, but people and bikes take priority on the back roads – and even bikes stop to let people and cars past, there’s something you never see in London. All of which combines together to make an enchanting city that is well worth a visit.

The first day we got in from Osaka on the shinkansen high speed train to the bustling Kyoto Station, itself somewhat of a design icon. Like most people I have to take a moment to rhapsodise on the Japanese train system.. especially being British. Trains turn up on time, even slightly early. Guards help you get on the train. There are markings on every platform to show you where the doors will be and people line up in them. They line up in them! Then when a shinkansen gets to a final destination you see a line of cleaning ladies, one for each door, waiting patiently to get on as soon as the train arrives. And the trains.. oh, so quiet, just the gently increasing whirr as it accelerates and the Japanese countryside flies past your window. Why can we not have this in every country? I digress…

As we were only in Kyoto for a night we left some bags at the luggage office, then jumped onto the clean, efficient subway system – after a the usual few blank stares at the ticket machine of course. Having checked into our downtown hotel, it was off into the streets to explore. Cute little boutique shops, cafes extended from record shops and quiet streets meant that Kyoto downtown is a highly enjoyable wander with plenty of design tidbits to enjoy.

A wall at Kyoto Castle

City wandering over, Nijo Castle [photos] was the next port of call. An epic walled fortress filled with beautiful buildings and plants. Then a short bus ride up to the bamboo forest, where towering bamboo plants are grown and harvested. There is a train ride that takes you up to the top of the forest, but be warned it doesn’t run that regularly so plan ahead.

Back into town and as the sun set we got ready to go for a Kyoto-ryori dinner at the amazing Fuya-cho Sanjo [photos]. Nestled off a back street, and with no obvious sign (you have to go into a courtyard off the street) you knock on the door and someone lets you in. Inside we sat at the counter watching the chefs prepare all the food – and settled back to enjoy one of the fixed menus. Sushi, stews and more came out – each course small, but perfectly formed. The chefs were chatty and friendly, trying out some of their English and keeping our sake topped off. Mmm… sake. All we really did was smile happily at the amazing food and say ‘oishi’ and that seemed to be keeping up our side of the bargain. Fuyacho Sanjo is on 310 Shimohakusan-cho, Fuya-cho, Sanjo-aguru Higashigawa (T 075 241 1100).

After some after dinner cocktails we walked down to the river, where the local kids gathered and drank in the gloom. This led us down to Pontocho one of the four geisha districts in Kyoto. The red lanterns adorned with birds, a geisha symbol, adorned all the doorways but other than that the street seemed like a quiet suburb, except for one solitary geisha who rushed past us as we neared the end of the street.

The next day we returned to the same street to see it in the daylight, getting an early start as we had to head to Tokyo later that day – the street was still quiet, this time glistening from a street cleaning in the early morning sun. We crossed the river to Gion, another geisha district, before walking up the hill towards Toji a towering pagoda that easily stands above the small houses around it. This area is the major temple walk within Kyoto and there is so much to see round there, from the serenity of the Ryozen Kannon War Memorial with its drawers full of cards listing the war dead, to the imposing red gates and white stones of the Heian Shrine. In between there are many small streets to walk around and explore (and get lost in), with little shops full of interesting trinkets such as kimono material and shoes. Next time I’m back there this area will get a full day to enjoy and spend time watching people go about their business, instead it was time to head to Kyoto station to catch another train for the final leg of the journey.. Tokyo!

Kyoto is an amazing city, one of our favourite parts of the whole trip to Japan and Korea. There is so much to see, from the culture of the Geisha and the temples, to the modern delights of design shops and restaurants. All this in a city that is walkable yet has an extensive subway system and likes cyclists. What more could you want? You can see the full set of Kyoto pictures here.

Pictures from Osaka, Japan 2010

Finally, some pictures from last year’s Japan trip. Osaka was the first town we stayed at in Japan. It wasn’t a planned part of our trip, but due to last year’s major event of this time – the volcanic dust cloud – we ended up in Japan over Golden Week. Sounds pretty doesn’t it, but it’s not a pretty experience for anyone wanting to book a hotel in Japan as Golden week is the one week in Japan where everyone goes on holiday. Literally everyone. So Kyoto had no hotels available and Osaka was the nearest town worth visiting on the way. Such is life.

Footnote: A year ago the volcanic dust cloud seemed like a major disaster in our lives. This year, tens of thousands of people have died in Japan due to the earthquake and tsunami and much of the country is still affected by this tragedy with many still missing. You can donate here if you want to help. In the meantime my thoughts are still with those mourning their loss.

Weekends round here seem to oscillate between fun adventures outside of town and homebody sessions. This weekend is very much homebody, catching up with errands and geek activities such as installing new computer operating systems, watching the entire extended edition of Lord of the Rings (classic being ill recovery movie) and finding out that Crucial seem to have run out of MacBook Pro memory right now – what with that? Guess my ageing laptop will have to wait for its final upgrade. All this is in stark contract to last weekend, where a group of us headed off to celebrate Miette’s birthday at the lovely Castle Farm in Capel-y-Ffin right in the Black Mountains.

Castle Farm is a lovely location, pretty much in the middle of nowhere, although as we arrived on a windy, almost moon-less night it seemed less than idyllic – no small thanks to Tom suggesting a recently escaped psycho from a local prison and the wind trying to throw everything at our windscreen as we crawled up pitch black, windy country lanes avoiding fallen branches. All this city-folk fear subsided once we were inside the large, but cost house and had a roaring fire lit. Oh, and after a few drinks. A few hours later, everyone else arrived and the weekend’s party began in earnest with many more logs being burnt.

The next morning was still overcast and windy, but we could now see the epic view out the windows. Nestled in a valley between two spurs of the Black Mountains, the farm has a stunning outlook, green fields dotted with windswept trees and sheep. Although it was less than perfect walking conditions we took a ‘brief’ (four hour) constitutional up to Lord Hereford’s Knob where the wind tried its best to blow us off. The hill that is. Mountain scaled we pushed through the wind, back down in the rapidly fading afternoon gloom to the warmth of the fire, where everyone else was enjoying Britain’s Got Talent, pretty much in the same place we’d left them four hours earlier. For some reason they all seemed pretty sure this was the better choice… The evening passed in a haze of good food, cake, board games, possibly some vino and enjoying a roaring fire as the wind howled outside the window. Perfect.

Weekend’s away, whether in Britain or abroad, are always so much fun – and though I’m sitting here somewhat wishing we had a roaring fire to enjoy, or a new place to explore, it’s the contrast of the two states that really make things pop in my mind. Every weekend enjoying the comforts of home can become deathy dull, conversely spending every weekend somewhere new is rapidly over-whelming so it becomes hard to fully appreciate the new wonders in front of you. Creating your own perfect preferred blend of experience and reflection is arguably part of what life’s all about. Or maybe just having an open fire everywhere you go. Mmmm… burny.

Last weekend we jaunted over to Paris on Eurostar for an Autumnal long weekend break, a chance to catch a breath in what’s turning out to be a very busy few months. Paris in the fall is always a mixed bag, as the continental weather can get pretty wet and cold but luckily for us the forecast torrential rain held off leaving just a few light showers in its wake. This trip we stayed at Adrien’s beautiful flat in the 10th, near to Gare de l’Est – a fortuitous coincidence as he had his own jaunt off to New York literally an hour after we arrived, so we got to share a brief breakfast before he headed out. A big thanks to him, as it’s one of our favourite areas comprising central location via the walk along the St-Martin canal. Magnifique.

After so many trips to Paris we tend to avoid the tourist activities, instead reverting to a mildly obsessive attempt to see every Parisian Space Invader. Thanks to a previous birthday present of Invader’s Paris invasion guide we now have some highly accurate maps to help us, and guide us around areas of Paris we would otherwise never go near. The stand-out this trip was a long strip of invaders on the edge of Belleville opposite a full-on street market that seemed to specialise in stolen goods and loud arguments and an ethnic mix that reminded me more of Jerusalem than anywhere else. The upshot of our hunt, was that we now know the first ever Invader is no longer there, and that Miette is better at spotting them.. winning 37 to 32 in new sightings. That puts us having seen about 100 off of the now 1,000 placed in Paris.. so plenty of opportunity to claw back a second frame there.

Other than Parisian street art, of which Invader is flanked by Shepherd Fairey and Faile but little else, we enjoyed some splendid meals. Brunch at Les Enfants Perdues was a set menu joy. Cafe Charlot provided good solid cafe food during the day and traditionally French service. First night we went to La Fidelite where the opulent packed surroundings was highly enjoyable, although my mild food poisoning from the cod was less fun – c’est la vie. On Saturday we went to Hotel du Nord and had a splendid time, highly recommended.

Food aside the highlight of the trip was a visit to Deyrolle, a French institution where you can buy all forms of preserved animals – from butterflies to polar bears and everything in between. Expensive to buy, but fascinating to wander round and proving that however many times you visit Paris, there’s always something new to find and enjoy.

Good news for all fans of Space Invader, he’s just re-opened his Space Shop with a wide selection of goodies. First up are the ‘Made in Japan’ Invasion Kits – IK_13 – made to celebrate his current show in Japan. They come in two flavours – 30 signed at €350 a piece (already sold out) and 150 unsigned at €200 each*. Get ‘em while they’re hot!

Next up, is the Invader map of Rome. Multo bene! There are a thousand of these little bambinos to grab, although there will be some signed unfolded/cut versions coming soon. Or if you want something a bit more substantial like a good plate of pasta, then pick up one of the ‘Invaderoma’ books – signed with mosaic cover at €450 (60 of them) or soft cover for a lot less.

The invasion rolls ever onward…

* For those fans of maths and the like, you’ll know that if he sells all those invasion kits he nets a cool €40,500! That should pay for him to make plenty more world trips to bring Invader joy to everyone. Huzah!

Thanks to the Guardian I’ve just learnt all about Matteo Pericoli, an Italian who moved to New York in 1996 and started doing beautiful line drawings as a hobby while he worked as an architect. This hobby evolved into something more serious, and now Pericoli has a series of books showing skylines around the world. His New York views from famous people’s windows are my favourite though, showing a range of vistas from traditional NYC landmarks, through water tower strewn rooftop landscapes to just the windows of the opposite building. Pericoli has even won acclaim for creating the cover art The Beastie Boys ‘To The 5 Boroughs‘ album. Lovely, evocative stuff.

Suddenly this morning all the empty London Cycle Hire bikestands are full (or semi-full) with spanking new bikes, along with intrigued Londoners staring at them. As of yet though I’ve only seen someone pushing a bike around, not actually cycling on one so no idea how they work in practice.

This is all very exciting, and now we just have to see how Londoners take to the scheme which has met with varying levels of success in other cities around the world. Hopefully it will get more cyclists on the road as planned and reduce some of the overhead on the city’s public transport, as well as helping to push London as a city for cyclists (we can but dream). As for me, I may sign up – even though I already have a bike – as we live in the central part of London it’s easy to just grab one, cycle to work and park it nearby. Then for any evening trips the same tactic can work without fear of bike theft and the hassle of locking them up.

Of course now we just have to see how the bikes survive the attentions of some of the more Neanderthal natures in British culture… from random destruction and ‘happy slapping’ to drunken cycling and urination. Excelsior!

The other weekend I went on a reccy round Soho to find a few Space Invaders I’d not seen. Oh, and to check out the new tyres on my bike as well. It’s amazing how easy a bike is to ride with new, fully inflated tyres, especially when central London is nice and quiet.

You can see the full set of photos from that day here, a total of 14 invaders – unfortunately six of which were already destroyed – another lesson to get out and about and see any invasions in your neighbourhood before its too late.

In related news, Invader has a newsletter out right now, which mentions some new prints at Pictures on Walls in July, and a new, official invasion in San Diego and a full ‘Invader Walk’. Check out the trailer here.

The 40th Glasto – sun & colours. (More Photos Here)

I’m finding it hard to remember when I first went to Glastonbury, the grand-daddy of all British summer festivals and arguably one of the best music festivals in the world. Perhaps is was when I was at University. It was definitely in the 90s, which by all accounts means I must have been in my teens (coff). The special mix of hippy travellers, being able to camp in the festival grounds and world class bands made it something special. A 24 hour cornucopia of sights and sounds and chai tea, amongst other things. That first year we had weather that could only be described as ‘traditional English summer’ – a mix of occasional sun, showers and chilly damp evenings. None of that dampened my enthusiasm, and Glastonbury found its way into my heart.

The years that followed always seemed incomplete when I didn’t manage to make it to Glasto, the affectionate shortening of its full ‘Glastonbury Festival of Contemporary Performing Arts’ title. Even after the first year of torrential rain and mud floods, a year that the organisers were woefully unprepared for as were the festival goers, Glasto’s siren call would be there. “Come. See strange and wonderful things. Listen to many great and random bands. Spend a few days in a tent trying to sleep next to thousands of other people making noises like sheep”. There are many memories. Laughing in the mud. Sitting by our campfire in the green fields watching people climb over the increasingly high metal fence, or even pushing it over to cheers from the whole campsite. Watching the sun set and then rise again over the stone circle. Roasting in a tent from 8am in the morning as the mid-summer sun hits the site. Circus performers on stilts. Mulled cider from a big red bus. The toilets, ah the toilets…

Glasto is many things to many people. No two people ever have the same festival, and indeed it often seems like every other festival is a pale shadow of Glasto’s glory, a sliver of a slice of the complete pie (mmm, pie) on offer. Even with the increased security requirements imposed upon the festival by police and locals, Micheal Eavis and his daughter have managed to keep the feeling of the festival relatively intact. Even if the crusty travellers are sorely missed, the replacement areas such as Arcadia introduce some of their own weird and wonderful magic, assuming you can get in there. Yes, Glasto is now extremely busy and crowded at times, however well organised it is. So much so that we gave up trying to see Arcadia at night for fear of being crushed alive in the herd of sheeple.

This Glasto was special though. The 40th anniversary of the first ever festival gathering, so after a break of six years I decided to go along and even managed to get tickets, and I’m glad we did. Perfect weather, even to the level of being too hot. Great bands such as Slash, The Orb, Gorillaz*, Chromeo, Grizzly Bear and my favourites Orbital and The Stranglers. Then there was the joy of Mr B the Gentleman Rhymer,  seeing The National & La Roux for the first time (with Heaven 17 interlude) and many other smaller acts we stumbled across during the four days we were there. In fact most bands were going special guest crazy, just wish we’d found out about the Thom Yorke secret gig before it happened.

Ah, The Stranglers.. a band I’ve not seen since I was 17 and refused to see after Hugh Cornwall quit as lead singer. However singing along to their classics with a crowd of folks who were old enough to know better was highly enjoyable and liberating – Hugh, wish you’d been there too. As for Orbital, the disappointment of their Brixton Academy set was swept away by an outstanding, outdoors Other stage extravaganza. The perfect way to end a festival. Hot, sweaty and smiling – and wishing we didn’t have to ever leave. Roll on next year!

* I have to pass comment on the Gorillaz set.. Yes, it wasn’t the perfect Glasto set, as Glasto crowds really want a hits laden extravaganza. What Damon and his friends gave us was instead a full on, epic rendition of their latest album, Plastic Peach, with a sprinkling of their other hits and a chance to hear something different. For his part, Damon should have realised this would be a hard pill to swallow and perhaps eased it by at least announcing your guest stars as they came out – we’re not all musos! Bobby Womack, I apologise for thinking you were Horace Andy – and Lou Reed I apologise for thinking you were someone wearing a Lou Reed costume.

Truly this was a star studded wonder of a night, but it wasn’t what the crowd wanted. Especially when Damon got a bit too demanding in asking us to learn the lyrics of Pirate Jet in the style of an aggrieved schoolmaster (“something about taps running for 100 years, Sir?”). And even when the crowd did get what they wanted in the form of Shaun Ryder singing ‘Dare’, Shaun himself was, as usual, not up to the task, being more content to grin at the crowd as his co-singer sang all his parts. I guess he’d visited Bez earlier in the day, host of his own tent somewhere on the site. At the end though, the tribute to Dennis Hopper was truly moving and the final two songs culminating in a Snoop Dogg infused & enthused Clint Eastwood was a rabble rousing success. Thanks, Damon & friends, we should never have doubted you.