Slot Car Heaven

Poor old Greg died. RIP Greg.

Adachi Tomomi is a mentalist

Adachi Tomomi is a mentalist. Voice performance with infrared sensor shirt.



Find out more here...

http://www.adachitomomi.com/

Black Sabbath - Lego Man

Kurtis Blow Made Hip Hop Harder?

Kurtis Blow - Christmas Rapping

The Countdown to Christmas begins...

Run DMC - Christmas in Hollis

A Microwave Is For Life, Not Just For Christmas

Will Barras & Mr Jago

100

Wow, The RWC crew have reached their hundredth blog and to celebrate here's a nice little 100 video. 100 movies, 100 quotes and 100 numbers. Enjoy.

Os Gemeos

Printer Jam

This tune is big, Printer Jam by Mistabishi...The RWC crew used to have an Epson 3000 that used to sound just like this.

Phil A and James H Rule. Simple.

It's nice to see people you know from Guernsey doing something good with their lives...


Phil Aller & James Harrrison Profile mix >>

RWC Loves Betty Page

1950 was strange.

Youtuba

The RWC crew are also happy to come across people that use technology in a new and interesting way. This project isn't great but at least Youtube are open to the idea.

FAILE VS BBC

JAGO VS BBC

Straight faced Duncan Jago. Just!

12 Days of Xmas

About this time last year some of the RWC crew jumped on a plane and headed North over to the UK to hit up ATP’s Nightmare Before Christmas music festival (http://www.atpfestival.com/). It just happened that coincidentally on the way to Minehead that we stopped off in Bristol. That night saw the opening of Matt Sewell’s solo show at Workshop and the opening night of the 12 Days of Xmas.

This year sees the 12 Days of Xmas go ahead again. It’ll be a hard act to follow as last years location was the old Bridewell Police Station, this year’s location has not been announced yet but rumours are starting to circulate.

With over 70 artists involved there is likely to be something for everyone. Last years event was good but you had to sift through a stack of crap before you got to the good stuff.

Highlights for the RWC crew included the What Collective prison cell, WSSK’s cell and Mudwig’s blood splattered gore fest. Here’s a dodgy youtube video from last years event. Lets hope this year sees less stencilalikes and graff letters on canvas and more quality.



More info here….

http://www.12daysofxmas.co.uk/

Willy or Won't He?

This is what Maths lessons at school were all about.

Kaws

This may have been posted before...oh well.

Collecting Art Has Never Been So Cool.

Herb Vogel was a postal clerk and Dorothy Vogel was a librarian and between their modest salaries they quietly built one of the world’s most important collections of modern art. The couple have collected 4000+ pieces of minimalist and conceptual art since the early 1960’s.

While Herb freely admits he “doesn’t understand” much of what he collects, the two nevertheless exhibit a palpable, fiercely instinctual connection to art. Their three pre-requisites: It must be affordable, it must be transportable via subway or taxi, and it must fit into the modest apartment they share with turtles, fish and a cat.

Mental.



For more info on the Vogel's...

http://www.herbanddorothy.com/

Awesome Art Co-labs R Us

From the age of two Cohen’s watercolor paintings have traveled the globe to a “Who’s who” of modern art, spanning graffitists, fine artists, printmakers, tattoo artists, as well as clothing and toy designers. Once in the artists’ possession,they have carte blanche to do whatever they wish to one of Cohen’s watercolors before shipping it back to eager little hands. The project has led to several art shows and his own skateboard design for Foundation.

http://www.ayejay.com/cohens-art/

RWC Still Loves Harmony Korine

Mr_Hopkinsons Computer

The RWC crew were lucky enough to catch a live performance by Mr_Hopkinson's Computer on their recent trip to Bristol. If you don't know what Mr_Hopkinson's Computer is, then check this...


Audrey 3000 feat. Mr. Hopkinson's Computer - Baby I Got Your Money

Basically Mr_Hopkinson's Computer is a computer that belongs to Mr Hopkinson that really likes to sing cover versions of popular hits. Genius.

Well. Mr Hopkinson has recently mashed up a Beardy Man performance, check this...

Knights of thee Wet Shame Table

This weekend sees the opening of ‘SMOKING JACKETS FOR JERRY’ an exhibition by KUILDOOSH at the Brooklynite Gallery, yep you’ve guessed it, in Brooklyn, New York.

http://www.brooklynitegallery.com/



KUILDOOSH (pronounced Coo-el-doosh) and WET (s)SHAME KNIGHTS (WSK or WSSK) are both part and parcel of the same creative package from the South West England.

The 3 artists behind the duel crew identity are
EKO
MUDWIG
PARIS

KUILDOOSH are so far ahead of the game that most regular street art heads don’t even get it.

The RWC crew are in love with WSK/KUILDOOSH. Rosto and Dred had the pleasure of meeting Mudwig at Mr Jagos opening at Stolenspace earlier this year. They had a little chat about coming to Guernsey and so a plan was hatched. WATCH THIS SPACE.

The beauty in WSK/KUILDOOSH is the mix of styles that the three artists bring to the table. This clash of styles has led to the emergence of an unpredictable and experimental style that takes its inspiration from a wide field of references: Nazi iconography, Dadaism, pop culture, Futurism, Victorian dress, graphic design, isometric drawings and a bizarre use of Middle English. Unlike most graffiti crews WSK/KUILDOOSH seem to be as well known not only for their paintings but also their approach/ethos.



Sodden earth of home countys now swealtering 'neath the Rhinosceruses horn. Pummeled by powder, these Gods knew of great times still echoing in the lost lands and simple peoples. Or so it seemed when we set sail... Now all was transmotifying, bursting blossoms of infinite stillness, poaring as the sphere of all we knew slipped into the dusty night - Kuildoosh

Guy Mckinley and Showchicken - Partly Beast, Partly Foul

For the last couple of months the RWC crew have fallen off their game a little and started taking things a little too seriously. They lost their ability to mock everyone and everything, they became subdued and complacent and worst of all they lost their progressive attitude and their ability to lie. Well, all that is about to change. 2009 is the year of the Readerswives Collective, They are itching to get going and in fact they can’t even wait until 2009.

In the coming weeks, Guy Mckinley and Showchicken will be gracing Guernsey's shores to use their painting and decorating skills in the Centre Fold Gallery. ShowMckinley as they are now known are two of the UK’s hottest illustration talents. No joke. Check these links…

www.guymckinley.com/
http://guymckinley.blogspot.com/
http://www.showchicken.com/

Rosto and Foxy Paw from RWC first met ShowMckinley at the Street Sketchbook launch in London late last year. Both were absolute legends.



Partly Beast, Party Fowl - illustrations, drawings and paintings by Guy Mckinley and Showchicken opens on Friday 12th December at 6:30pm. FREE BOOZE.

If you want to take a trip over to Guernsey you can get cheap flights here...

http://www.flybe.com/
http://www.aurigny.com/

If you make the effort to come over email us (readerswives@graffiti.net) and we'll make it a trip you won't forget.

All artworks will be for sale at reduced prices compared to the UK, due to the fact that our gallery doesn't take any commission, so start saving your pennies now and grab an absolute bargain. You can view some of Guy McKinley's prints here...

http://guymckinley.bigcartel.com/

If you want any let us know and we can pre-order them for collecting from the exhibition.

THIS EVENT HAS KINDLY BEEN SPONSORED BY:
ABT - ASHTON BARNES TEE
www.guernseylegal.com

Centre Fold Gallery
Trinity Square Centre
Trinity Square
St Peter Port
Guernsey
GY1 1LX

Exhibition opening times
Mon - Fri: 5:30pm - Late (unless we are in the pub)
Sat: 10:30am - 6:30pm
everyone is welcome and entry is free

Mr Rogers

Mr Rogers sure is creepy....

Interactive Youtube Adventure

This is addictive...be warned.

Palindrome

A while ago the RWC crew got into films and books that toyed around with narrative and the order of events. Today the RWC crew found this...


Palindrome - Dir. Philippe Barcinski / Brazil / 2001

In a single day a man loses everything, and we watch it all backwards. Time's arrow bent back the wrong way. This is compulsive viewing.



Love In A Backward World - Dir. Chris Vincze

My Xerox Weighs a Ton

Here are RWC we know the power of the simple photocopier, we know the photocopier is good for more than just this...



...And so do our friends at XEROX art zine, which is available from the Centre Fold Gallery in Trinity Square, St Peter Port, Guernsey. If you just happen to live somewhere else, you can visit XEROX art zine here...

http://xeroxartzine.wordpress.com/

go check for words and stuff.

You Tube For President

Youtube not only helps pass the time at work, it's actually useful for something. No joke. Back in 2004 Youtube didn't even exist (I know!) and spodcasting wasn't even a word, video compression was still so glitchy and pixelated that everybody looked like Max headroom and myspace was just a little fledgling.

Max Headroom (circa 1985)

Well, times have changed since the last presidential campaign. The internet was a key player in the Kerry-Bush election but not on the monumental scale that it is today. Social networks became a massive vehicle for political message delivery and consumer generated content, often outperformed traditional media.

The younger less technophobic population could access thousands of videos that made McCain and to an even greater extent, Sarah Palin, look like complete chumps (although it could be argued that they did this themselves). Obama, who strangely enough is not related to Bin Laden, intuitively used this new digital environment to its fullest. He quickly gathered nearly 1million “friends” on MySpace and went viral on Internet video with his message and persona. He had an immediate presence on YouTube with his own channel not to mention the young fanatics generating their own content of McCain and Palin mockumentaries. Amazing.


McCain Headroom

So what better way to sit back and watch his amazing acceptance speech then via the info-web.

It's Judgement Day!

Halloween Spesh - woooooooooooooo!

Aperture Awesomeness

Aperture is a facade installation which functions as an interactive display. The display is created using iris diaphragms which together create an interactive matrix. Iris diaphragms are apertures with a variable opening diameter. The single apertures in the grid react to varying intensities of incoming light by altering their diameters correspondingly. This feature makes passers-by able to influence the opening diameter of the iris diaphragms by their movement in front of the facade, thus creating a display capable of depicting the people moving by, while at the same time being a new channel for communication between the inside and outside of a building.

Hey Andrew!

Andrew Thompson - We're In Business

Interactive Wooden Mirror, What?

Interactive Mirror

When writing your name on steamed up glass just isn't enough...

Afrikan Boy - One Day I Went To Lidl

Yo Bo Burnham

Forget about Flight of the Conchords, the RWC crew are totally down with Bo Burnham.


I'm Bo Yo


Bo Fo' Sho'


New Math


My Whole Family


My Better Half


Rehab Centre For Fictional Characters


3.14 Apple Pi

Mouth to Anus

Trencher, a London based casio-grind-core trio. Awesome.

Record player art is totally where it's at.

Jim Le Fevre's Phonographantasmascope zoetropes inspired creations at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, March 2007.



Christian Marclay, Replay.



Jorgen Larsson



"without records" - YCAM Otomo Yoshihide / ENSEMBLES



"hyper wr player" - YCAM Otomo Yoshihide / ENSEMBLES

Poster Boy

Drew Struzan, watch and learn.

Lazy Good For Nothing

Lazy Legs is a B-Boy with mad skills, quite possibly the best name in Hip Hop too.

Rollerman!

Rollerman is our new hero, he's a futuristic inline skate transformer god. His 'super-power' is he can beat motorbikes down a hill. The Incredible Hulk is no match for him.

Foot-Foot, where you been? You smell like a dookie, girl.

Rated R for pervasive depiction of anti-social behavior of juveniles, including violence, substance abuse, sexuality and language.

The RWC crew had forgotten how good Gummo is. Gummo is a 1997 cult film written and directed by Harmony Korine (writer of another cult movie ‘Kids’). The film has two threads one being part documentary/vignettes and the other having a loose linear narrative. The title is supposedly derived from Gummo Marx, the least known of the Marx Brothers, who quit the act before they became famous.

Set in Xenia, Ohio (not to be confused with Xena Warrior Princess) the film follows several main characters but really focuses in on two adolescent boys, Tummler and Solomon. The film unravels to reveal the boys as twisted cat killers out to make a buck. The story is interrupted by vignettes depicting the other disturbing backwater characters of the town.

Most of the actors in the film had little or no experience. The exceptions include director Harmony Korine's long-time girlfriend Chloë Sevigny and Linda Manz. Korine also handed out cine cameras to the locals and got them to film footage of there everyday lives which are then included in the final edit.

Sevigny was also in charge of costumes for the film, reportedly purchasing the majority of the costumes at a local thrift store to preserve authenticity. The scene in which roaches crawl out of holes in a wall was filmed in a real roach-infested home. The whole film is grimey. Xenia, Ohio is a grotesque circus and not a place the RWC crew would like to visit unless they are in an impenetrable glass bubble. Everyone in this movie was dirty...

I Heart America

Bubblebum Bangwhore Rally

A few months back we had decided that our vehicle for the Bubblegum Banger Rally needed to be something a little out the ordinary. Our proposed team was going consist of 5 members and so we needed something big. We purchased a Vauxhall Midi for £400 that we decided would make a great ice cream van, a small part of me wanted to get stopped by the police for speeding just so I could say that we were trying to get there before the ice cream melted. Unfortunately our ‘Ghetto Van’ as we nick named it was a little to past it to race around Europe. With just three weeks to go we still hadn’t found a replacement until we came across ‘Crystal’ a beautiful looking 3.3L V6 Chrysler Voyager Automatic. It was a match made it heaven.

On Saturday 27th September the trusty Voyager set sail with just 4 team members aboard from Crabby Jacks car park at Vazon.

Meet the team:
Rostone – Wannabe Wacky Racer
Kitten Soft – Soccer Mom
The Viking – Navigational expert
Vinyl Matt – Token stoner

Our fifth team member, Dred was with us in spirit but unfortunately had to stay in Guernsey. It’s a good job our trusty wagon had a few spare seats though as god was our co-pilot, unfortunately I think Satan may have been riding shotgun.

Travelling with 50 other Bubblegummers and a police escort (three of which were fake Bubblegum police cars) from Vazon to St Peter Port was a great excuse to disregard the Highway Code for 20 minutes as we drove with our horn constantly sounding. Spirits were high, as my childhood dream of being Burt Reynolds in Cannonball Run slowly became some twisted reality.

We checked Crystal in at the harbour and found the time to tart her up by adding a few more stickers (mostly to her attractive derriere).

The ferry journey was spent munching Croque Monsieurs and route planning whilst discussion revolved around the day’s challenge, which had been handed to us as we departed Guernsey. We arrived in St. Malo at 5pm French time and made a beeline straight for Rouen, our first stop of the trip. Our challenge for the day was to bring an authentic French guest to the evening meal whilst we dressed in traditional French costume. We failed, due to our total disagreement to bow down to typical English ideas of French stereotypes. We did however arrive in about tenth place after being the last off the ferry and testing Crystal to her full capabilities and with a total disrespect for the highway code the RWC crew managed to get her up to a top cruising speed of 125mph, not bad for a soccer-mom car. ‘Crystal’ loves having her photograph taken, only not by speed cameras. Opps. I think The Vikings navigational skills may have also played a small part in our early arrival.

Sunday morning was an early start after a healthy sized continental breakfast. We made sure we stole enough Croissants to get us through the day. We picked up today’s challenge and headed straight out into the French scenery. Today’s challenge involved deciphering several clues to deduce a password that would entitle us to gain entry into the secret area of the Bubblegum Banger website, which would reveal to us the address of our hotel for the night.

We stopped at several impressive cathedrals and completed all the assigned challenges in France before heading straight(ish) for Antwerp in Belgium. Belgium didn’t last long at 125mph on a Sunday afternoon as we made our way to Amsterdam. We arrived in Amsterdam in good time and decided that the best plan of action was to ditch Crystal at the hotel and take the tram straight into the Red-Light District. Crystal didn’t need to witness the seedy side of Amsterdam.

I don’t remember much else of Amsterdam, although I did go temporarily blind for a short while.

After a good night’s sleep we loaded up Crystal with yet another stolen breakfast and pointed her in the direction of Germany. Thankfully Kitten Soft took the first driving shift, as I was feeling a little fragile. I don’t know why. After an hour or two I was itching to drive on the German autobahns. The Germans all drive precision built German cars in a very precise German way on beautifully crafted straight German roads. Everyone drives correctly and no one cuts you up, unlike Belgium. It was on roads like this that Crystal came into her own, she happily cruised along at 120mph for most of the day as we headed down through Germany to Nurburgring.

The drive towards Nurburg was beautiful and offered some of the most fantastic views of the whole trip. The winding mountain roads got me in race driver mode ready for our lap of Nurburgring, as did arriving first. I had the great pleasure of racing around Nurburgring Nordschleife circuit in Crystal (the most un-race car ever). It was also the first time that I’d actually driven Crystal on a damp road. It started to drizzle 10 minutes before we were due to head out onto the circuit, making for a slippery ride. 'Crystal' likes to under-steer a lot.

The circuit is particularly tricky with plenty of blind corners that disappear over hill brows. The 13 mile lap was completed in just under 15 minutes, which is fairly respectable given the conditions, the car and the first and only time around there. We managed to overtake 5 cars and a motorbike and only got over taken once by some sporty hatch back thing. We reached a maximum of 125 mph and had to do some serious late braking manoeuvres. The automatic gearbox made it hard to keep the power down and made engine braking impossible, which resulted in the brake discs and pads smoking when we left the track.

This challenge was one of the highlights of the trip for me; it made another one of my childhood/adulthood dreams come true. After leaving the circuit I got told that I looked like a small child at Christmas due to the beaming grin across my face.

Given a whole day there in the dry and I reckon I could get ‘Crystal’ into the sub 10min mark...Maybe. I’d love to race Clarkson around there anyway. Check this. Mental.



We ditched Nurburgring pretty sharpish and made our way to the hotel for the night in Koblenz.

Tuesday saw us embark on the longest stretch of the rally. We ate lots of German sausage and robbed the hotel of enough food to last the day. We did of course have the obligatory stop at a fast food joint due to the daily over sleeping/missed breakfast of Vinyl Matt.

Today’s Challenge was to get to the San Bernardino Pass in the Swiss Alps (we arrived third). This challenge involved driving through the bottom half of Germany through Austria and Liechtenstein and into Switzerland. This challenge simply wasn't enough for our crew of intrepid road trippers and so we decided to add in a few more countries, Italy and France. It's a shame that passport stamping is rare these days as the crew visited 6 countries in one day (although we are still not sure whether Liechtenstein is classed as a country), personal bests for every member.

We finally made it back to Lake Geneve in Switzerland and bedded down for the night after an epic 12-hour drive.

The official final day of the rally was upon us. Lake Geneve to Paris was a relatively short drive in comparison to the previous days mission. The only challenge today was to rendezvous at the Arc de Triumphe roundabout.



We arrived early and tried to get our head around possibly the worst roundabout free-for-all that any of us have ever witnessed. We jacked it in pretty quickly and headed straight for our hotel. We ditched Crystal in the underground car park whilst Kitten Soft and The Viking relaxed in the pool and Vinyl Matt and myself ventured out to explore Paris.

This looks like a clip from the French movie C'était un rendez-vous, but in actuality it’s a video of us racing through Paris is Crystal.



We regrouped at the spectacular L’Atelier Renault Bar on the Champs Elysees for the evening party and prize giving. We gained three mentions and came fifth in one of the challenges winning us a staggering 20 Euros. We partied hard, argued about a bar bill and visited the Eiffel Tower at 3:30am. Great.

The final stretch saw us rape the European motorway system for one last time up to St Malo so we could embrace the walled city for a couple of hours before heading back on the ferry. The ferry trip home was a bit on the rough side resulting in some funny videos of passengers staggering around the duty free shop. The heroes welcome that awaited us in Guernsey only reinforced the fact that this had actually been the trip of a lifetime.

Everyone Loves a Bit of Charlie

The RWC crew can't get enough of Charlie Brown at the moment.

Face Crook

Crappy Facebook has deleted our Gallery account. I say lets all head back to Myspace and teach them a lesson.

It's Like a Punch in the Face

The Shite Wipes

Jeremy boyle's self-playing midi controlled pnuematic guitar and drums is just like watching the White Stripes live, only it has more emotion. Amazing.



www.jeremyboyle.com

My Jeans Hang Low So My Nuts Can Show

It's a fashion that started in prison, and now the saggy pants craze has come full circle -- low-slung street strutting in some cities may soon mean run-ins with the law, including a stint in jail.

Proposals to ban saggy pants are starting to ride up in several places. At the extreme end, wearing pants low enough to show boxers or bare buttocks in one small Louisiana town means six months in jail and a $500 fine.

A crackdown also is being pushed in Atlanta, Georgia. And in Trenton, New Jersey, getting caught with your pants down may soon result in not only a fine, but also a city worker assessing where your life is headed.

"Are they employed? Do they have a high school diploma? It's a wonderful way to redirect at that point," said Trenton Councilwoman Annette Lartigue, who is drafting a law to outlaw saggy pants. "The message is clear: We don't want to see your backside."

The bare-your-britches fashion is believed to have started in prisons, where inmates aren't given belts with their baggy uniform pants to prevent hangings and beatings. By the late 80s, the trend had made it to gangster rap videos, then went on to skateboarders in the suburbs and high school hallways.

"For young people, it's a form of rebellion and identity," said Adrian "Easy A.D." Harris, 43, a founding member of the Bronx's legendary rap group Cold Crush Brothers. "The young people think it's fashionable. They don't think it's negative."

But for those who want to stop the fashion see it as an indecent, sloppy trend that is a bad influence on children.

"It has the potential to catch on with elementary school kids, and we want to stop it before it gets there," said C.T. Martin, an Atlanta councilman. "Teachers have raised questions about what a distraction it is."

In Atlanta, a law has been introduced to ban sagging and punishment could include small fines or community work -- but no jail time, Martin said.

The penalty is stiffer in Delcambre, Louisiana, where in June the town council passed an ordinance that carries a fine of up to $500 or six months in jail for exposing underwear in public. Several other municipalities and parish governments in Louisiana have enacted similar laws in recent months.

At Trenton hip-hop clothing store Razor Sharp Clothing Shop 4 Ballers, shopper Mark Wise, 30, said his jeans sag for practical reasons.

"The reason I don't wear tight pants is because it's easier to get money out of my pocket this way," Wise said. "It's just more comfortable."

Shop owner Mack Murray said Trenton's proposed ordinance unfairly targets blacks.

"Are they going to go after construction workers and plumbers, because their pants sag, too?" Murray asked. "They're stereotyping us."

The American Civil Liberties Union agrees.

"In Atlanta, we see this as racial profiling," said Benetta Standly, statewide organizer for the American Civil Liberties Union of Georgia. "It's going to target African-American male youths. There's a fear with people associating the way you dress with crimes being committed."

People Don't Dance No More

During the 90s Mayor Giuliani followed in Mayor Koch’s footsteps and continued to fuck up a city that should still be the capital of cool. He enforced laws that had lain dormant since the end of prohibition and he enforced new laws that killed New York City’s soul. The city thought it had solved its crime problem with new zero-tolerance laws that ultimately did nothing but push crime out of Manhattan into the surrounding boroughs (Brooklyn, Bronx, Queens and Staten). Giuliani also attacked the arts by introducing new cabaret licenses that effectively banned dancing in any venue that did not hold a costly cabaret license. So just as the Criminal Justice Act in Britain made Acid House political, so Giuliani’s short-sighted attempt to bolster city coffers by regulating music and the arts made the simple act of dancing in certain locations an act of rebellion. As a result of such laws the city that during the 70s and 80s was synonymous with its ‘aNYthing goes’ attitude to parties has turned into an overly sanitised state of ‘head bobbing robots’. Now in the mid-00s ‘The Head Bob’ is now the dance of choice for many New Yorkers, it seems like it is subliminal, people don’t realise that the reason they are not moving is because it is illegal. This lack of movement and the stifling, strange atmosphere it creates is obvious to an outsider. Unfortunately it seems that many people that attend gigs in NYC don’t consciously think about it, they don’t move, it is like they’re looking at paintings. It has turned gigs in NYC into a field of synchronised robots.

So how is the law enforced? Does NYC have ‘Dance Police’ and do they work undercover wearing silver flares and tight t-shirts? Well, not really, it seems that the law is in place and it works, but no one has ever been arrested for dancing. On talking to one bar owner, his response was “I’d sure like to meet a cop that would arrest someone for dancing”. In New York City the definition of dancing is ‘organised movement of two or more people’ so surely being in a room with 400 other people and doing ‘The Head Bob’ is illegal?

For a nation that claims to be ‘The land of the free and home of the brave’ how do such oppressing laws get passed without a major revolution taking place?

Here are some good songs about this subject:


Radio 4 – Dance to the Underground


!!! – Me and Giuliani…….


Le Tigre – My My Metrocard


The Rapture – Wooh Alright Yeah!

Watch Out Guernsey

http://lecool.com/cities/london/newsletters/336-designer.html

Hubert Dobler's Gasoline

In "Gasoline," Hubert Dobler's first NY solo show, he assaults the polite electronic
façade of our postmodern service-industry landscape with his mean machine
Honda CB550 Four, 1976. It is gasoline, the return of the repressed. No brakes.
Muscular energy.

The power is raw. The motorcycle is chained to the ceiling in Dobler's Bull video
and it screams and bucks into the air and up against the walls like a wild beast.



Great.

Drednaught

You are invited to the opening of 'Drednaught' an exhibition of intergalactic space battles drawn by Dred from Readerswives Collective. Opening at 6:30pm on Friday 19th September. FREE BOOZE.

Music on the night will be provided by Binary Reaper and Skoov who will be playing a Sci-Fi influenced electronica set.

We will also be raffling off one of Dred's paintings for cheap.

This night will also see the launch of the 2nd issue of XEROX. IT'S FREE.

Centre Fold Gallery
Trinity Square Centre
Trinity Square
St Peter Port
Guernsey
GY1 1LX

Exhibition opening times
Mon - Fri: 5:30pm - Late (unless we are in the pub)
Sat: 10:30am - 6:30pm
everyone is welcome and entry is free


The RWC crew are always stone cold blogging....

http://readerswivescollective.blogspot.com/

we've also got a new gallery website, go and check it out...

http://www.centrefoldgallery.com

Piano Painting Animation

Last year sometime Rost and Itchy Fingers painted up a piano and bolted a staircase onto the side of it for easy access to the dance floor on top. We made a little animation of the painting process. Here it is....

Jersey Live Painting

Rost, Dred, Smut, Soft and Lady Muck hit up the Jersey Live festival last weekend and had an absolute blast. Rost and Dred knocked out a two day painting whilst the lovely ladies nailed the promotion. Here's a quick low quality stop-frame of the painting.



If you want to see better pictures hit us up on Facebook (search Centre Fold Gallery)

The whole weekend was blinding with the highlights being Gay Army's killer opening performance and DJ oneofakind's killer DJ set complete with a filthy Dub Steppery finale. Other highlights included GOOSE, a Belgium electro band and The Foals. One lucky member of the RWC crew even saw Mani from Primal Screams penis. Shouts out to Jim and Mevs for putting us up and putting up with us, much appreciated. As usual we all came back praising the Jersey massive. Thanks.

Playing Nice With Mr Jago

Mr Jago has got a new clothing company on the go...

http://www.playnice.co.uk/

go and check it.

He's also got a solo show coming up at Stolenspace...

StolenSpace are pleased to present the 1st London solo show by artist Mr Jago. This will showcase new work on Canvas, Silk, wood & installations, as well as the release of 2 new limited edition screen prints. ‘I see figures & form everywhere, in water, carpet patterns, shadows, clouds, everything is an abstract character and they are free’ says Jago. ‘Of all weather phenomena, I find clouds the most fascinating, from the silky filaments of high altitude cirrus to the towering, threatening mass of storm-bearing cumulonimbus, clouds are as varied as the new work itself. I love cloud watching, from no where the fluffy mass morphing shapes from a cunning fox with whispy ears to familiar faces ’.

Apparent in Mr Jago’s work is its loose lines and organic flow; he describes his work as ‘itchy’ and ‘dynamic’, with heavy movement and life, always searching for a new arrangement of lines. Robotic characters, and multi-layered landscapes feature heavily. The free flowing strokes and organic colours in Mr Jago’s paintings explore the ideas of space and depth in the landscapes and whilst the fast lines in his work attempt to make subject seem alive and animated. Mr Jago seems to have the ability to see a different world amongst the very mundane. These elements a very much reflective in this new body of work, and with this a looser, more instinctive style. This evolution has seen the early ‘Scrawl Collective’ scratchy style through to these more free flowing, abstract and loose paintings.

Cloud Talk 11.09.08 - 28.09.08

http://www.stolenspace.com/

Castles In The Sand: A Lover's Guide to Beach Art

Beach: the final frontier. Sand, shells and seaweed. The epicentre of idle creation. Once you’ve finished playing bat and ball, once you’ve swum until your eyes bleed, then there’s nothing left but to express yourself through sand. What underground tube station or fashionable New York gallery can boast a range of crazy artwork to rival low tide at Cobo on a summer’s evening?

When I talk about beach art, I’m not talking about the freaks who make life-size sculptures of the Simpsons on Brighton beach for daytime TV, and I’m not talking about the sell-outs chasing the big cash prizes in the Rocquaine Regatta sandcastle competition. I’m talking about people who write their name in the sand in twenty-foot letters just so everyone sitting at the Rockmount knows it. I’m talking about people who dig holes so deep that doctors end up writing ‘Why such a big hole?’ on children’s broken-leg diagnostic reports.

Beach art is limitless and can take many forms, but generally, it’s divided into three styles:

1. Lettering: Writing in the sand, usually by trailing the corner of a spade behind you. Often your name, ‘Hello’ or something offensive about someone you know.

2. Hole digging: It’s all about going big. How wide? How deep? Tunnels?

3. Sculpture: Generally castles, occasionally stuff like mermaids. Sometimes sculpture is interactive (think racing cars and boats). Sometimes it takes a more multimedia/kinetic angle (half buried people).

Beach art is a widespread and highly respected form of expression in island communities like Guernsey, and with good reason. It takes mad ability to operate within the limitations of the beach. It’s not an oil painting, so you’ve only got until the tide comes up, and you’ve got to know your sand. If you haven’t got what it takes then your castle is going to collapse, your letters will fade and the holes you dig will subside. Whilst being one of the most technically challenging art forms around, its also one of the most accessible. Most islanders don’t have the facilities to make bronze statuettes or silkscreen prints, but anyone can get hold of a bucket and spade.

Sadly, in spite of the massive following beach art has at a local level, and the fact that thousands of people passionately pursue it as a way of life; it remains disputed as an art form in the UK and much of Europe. Many of the greatest diggers, scrapers and shapers remain at best ignored and at worst despised by the mainstream art scene, and it’s not uncommon for respected artists to dismiss sand castles as ‘just messing about’, accusing beach artists of ‘increasing erosion’ and ‘causing long shore drift’.

Despite this, the future of the discipline is bright. The majority of beach artists don’t seem to care whether they make it big or not. They’re not looking to cross over, blow-up or break-through, and it seems most would prefer a virgin patch of sand and a spade to the Turner Prize.



Rubbish!



This is where it's at.

Text by Captain Soap Powder

Choice Cuts

‘UNTIL YOU GET CRUSHED BY a tree or stabbed by a clown, painting – that’s what you want to be doing,’ Mr Jago tells me. Originally an illustrator, and pioneer of the doodle, Jago is now notorious for silk paintings of robots; exploding onto the Bristol scene in the 90’s, he’s been sending shockwaves across the world as far as Japan. Strange, then, that he’s here in Guernsey, eating chips in Trinity Square and drinking Breda like a local.

Painting has been the name of the game this weekend, and it’s not just Jago who’s in on the action. He’s here with heavyweights of what’s come to be known as the UK ‘street art’ scene, Inkie, Cheba, and Nikill, on tour with the Bristol-based live art phenomenon, Weapon of Choice. Set up by Cheba at the beginning of this year, WOC is typically a pub or club event involving the collaboration of two or more artists. As hip-hop/funk beats ooze from the speakers, the artists invariably abuse pen, paint, and not a little liquid inspiration to create – in the course of one evening – a black-and-white masterpiece.

The Readerswives Collective have somehow managed to lure over not two, but four of these Belton-wielding Bristolians. On Friday night, beer in one hand and paintbrush in the other, they blitz some 20ft of wall-space in Rogues nightclub to the ambient sounds of DJ oneofakind’s funk collection.

Considering the loud noises, alcohol and inevitable distractions involved in such a venture, the results are visually stunning. Inkie’s bold style manifests itself as a beautiful twenty-first century bastardisation of art deco, and the black and white medium and limited production time make this work all the more immediate. Cheba’s cartoon characters and wispy evocations of a snowstorm are equally well suited to the parameters of the project. What’s more, the convergence of the static art object with the time frame of just a few hours makes it comparable to performance art; and this kind of pluralism is exactly what the accompanying Centre Fold Gallery exhibition is all about.

Staged the following night, it’s here at the gallery that the artists really show their individual colours (no pun intended). They display a wide range of pieces, from screen prints to mixed media canvases. Inkie is perhaps the best known of the four: he’s worked with Banksy, and is now Head of Design for Sega. His canvases broadcast his confidence, mixing opulent reds and golds with a healthy dose of street. Since Inkie’s roots are planted so firmly in graffiti culture, I wonder what he thinks of street art as an emerging movement. ‘Street art, as a term, is a load of bollocks,’ he tells me, ‘just a way of avoiding the g-word.’ But there are advantages to the current artistic environment: ‘Graffiti has certain parameters, it’s not boundless. Street art has more scope. It can be anything that catches your eye. And, combined with the rise of the digital canvas, it means art is more accessible to young people.’

Jago shares a similar aversion to what he sees as the street art ‘pigeonhole’. ‘I’m in that category because of when I came out and what I do, but I’m not comfortable with the label. It’s a bit like being in a band, and going into a record shop to see your CD in the ‘Dance’ section. What if you’re more than one category? It just doesn’t encompass everything.’

Cheba, who masterminded the Weapon of Choice concept and has driven it to its current success, takes another slant on labels. ‘Street art means public art. It’s selfish. Art forced in people’s faces. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want to see my art, it’s fucking there.’ His pieces reflect this frank statement; his work remixes Warhol and Lichtenstein images as well as corporate logos. For example, one of his artworks features the five circles of colour that make up the logo of Crylon – an old make of spray-paint that used by graffiti artists – but he’s turned them into disgruntled little round faces. Instead of the clean circles of the original logo, his pools of colour bleed luscious drips down a black background. Hence it both endorses and subverts; it is self-reflexive, essentially ‘street art about street art’.

Nikill’s work is the most understated of the four, and clearly remarks on his deep respect for older artists – not least Mr Jago. He combines spray paint, acrylic and markers to produce a series of interlinking, heavily layered canvases where ‘angles, mathematics and science combine.’ It seems that his influences are the most important aspect of his attitude to ‘street art’; given his contemporary style, reminiscent of the sketchiness of fellow Bristolian filth-monger Xenz, I’m impressed when he tells me his influences reach as far back as Turner. His reverence for artistic predecessors has obviously paid off for him – he had his first solo show aged 15, and had staged a sell-out exhibition at Seven (Bristol) by the time he was 17. Now, at just 20, he owns his own clothing label, ‘Love the Leaf’, and is a budding music producer.

It’s a multi-faceted and thought-provoking exhibition, and after the exploits of Friday night’s live drawing, I’m overwhelmed by the Weapon of Choice experience. It’s a successful opening night, too, with all 6 of Jago’s silk paintings selling within minutes of commencing business. Everyone’s tired, but happy, and the four artists reflect on their weekend. It was ‘perfect’, they all agree, vehemently promising to return as soon as their busy schedules will allow.

Text by Foxy Paw

Mmmm Virtual Drugs

VIRTUAL DRUGS; NO I’M NOT SELLING

Who gets a virtual 'kick' out of the internet? Well, me for one; a sure aid to a restful night’s sleep is to tune into MySpace and evaluate how many ‘hits’ my profile has received.

But really, are we even marginally aware of the utter dependency we have on virtual reality? Yes, it is quite the narcotic: every angst of the day is transcribed through the tap-tap-tapping on your keyboard as you complete the obligatory electronic forms to purchase the products guaranteed to enhance your quality of life and, hence, your happiness that has, until the point of purchase, sucked more than a little bit. Your succumbing consequently produces the blessed sleep of the virtual-consumer.

I know I am not alone in this: how good does it feel to return to the sanctuary of your home after a less-than-perfect day and log into a reality over which you have supreme control? You are a God. In setting Google Search as your homepage, you and only you control what you encounter. All stipulations that you ‘befriend your neighbour’, and thus contribute towards the establishment of social harmony, are suspended. Indeed, the only ‘neighbour’ you have to worry about is the anonymous irritant who outbids you on eBay in the last twenty seconds.

But this, paradoxically, breeds a sense of community: your hours of isolation trawling eBay for a bargain are socialised by the fact that your climactic bid is surpassed by an English penny in the final moments of the desired item’s listing. In other words, your unsuccessful vigilance indeed, your very isolation is vindicated by the fact that there is a shrewder Overlord of the virtual reality than you. And the range of emotions that this brief spell induces aggrandisement, assurance, anger, envy are all generated without your leaving your computer's vicinity. That's quite some virtual-reality.

To take Facebook as a site representative of the Internet’s potential to produce a race of social degenerates, one might feel inferior to one's virtual neighbour if that neighbour's number of 'wall posts' grossly exceeds one's own. To this end the individual becomes desperate and embraces the chirpy persona whose posts on a long-estranged friend's wall read something like this: "Hi, I'm sorry I've been rubbish, how are you doing...?"


What they actually mean is: "Hi, I obviously don't care about you that much or else I would have called by now; but I'm suffering from a total identity crisis and need you to validate my reality by confirming that I have friends beyond tin the world outside the room in which my computer is located".

That's pretty crazy, but the internet does indeed provide the opportunity to be as sociable as you please without leaving the well-worn groove in your chair. See? Convenience is key here. Yes you are inevitably inundated with 'special offers' and the assurances that you ARE the '999,999th visitor to this site which means that you win a prize', but you can eradicate these nuisances with the click of a button rather than the slap around the face that would cause offence - and a possible court appearance - in the real world.

It is possible to detect the virtual-addict through the very pallor of their skin; there is clearly a gap in the market for computer screens that create the healthy, sun-blushed complexion of the virtual-abstainer. I would seize this point of fact and go on to suggest that the lure of the internet is nothing short of virtual-vampirism. Mina Harker in Bram Stoker’s Dracula was unable to resist the foreign Count’s charms; who, in these times, can resist the magnetic pull of the Internet? Shopping, socialising, applying for jobs. The Internet takes the sting out of all these events; a pleasant indulgence upon which one soon becomes virtually dependent.

Text by MisSpells

Gormo in Guernsey

Ever noticed the hair pricking up on the back of your neck when circling the Model Yacht Pond? or, taking a private dip at the bathing pools, turned to confront an observer only to find no one there?

Unknown to the islanders going about their daily lives, dark and brooding figures are watching their every move with an unflinching gaze. The works belong to the Insider series by Anthony Gormley, and have been installed in Castle Cornet since May. Gormley, most famous for the Angel of the North and a collection of figures spread across London rooftops called Event Horizon, has brought to Guernsey LOT, an installation that forms a part of the International Artist in Residence Programme.

The usually sunny and familiar sight of the castle takes on a more sinister air with the addition of these works, and is a perfect venue for the five figures. Its location, with only one approach by foot, affords the artist a valuable level of control over how the viewer is introduced to the piece. The figures start out distinctly human, to such a degree that they could almost be mistaken for tourists risking the high walls. However, as the viewer draws closer to the castle, more of their alien distortion, thin limbs and jutting members become visible, and begin to lend the art its dark and unfamiliar discordance.

It is only once inside the castle that the true brilliance of the installation is revealed. As you navigate the castle's tiered structure, the figures constantly disappear and reappear amongst the walled gardens and staircases. They are mostly planar in form, and flat, except for their pointed penises. This allows each reappearance to give details of different aspects, subtle colours, and the relative positions of the limbs, forming the strong sense of a site populated by innumerable silent suggestions of humans. This effect is so potent that it seems the castle was made for the figures and them for it; an organic feel, as if all were formed together.

This feeling is only broken by the presence of Diaphragm V, a figure more naturalistic in form than the Insider series. Although an interesting work, its placement in the base of the tower – almost as an afterthought – succeeds only in breaking the spell cast by the rest of the installation. Lit by a bare electric bulb and well signposted, unfortunately its addition only detracts from the power of the other works. Entry to the exhibition is free for students, but £6.50 for adults and £4.50 for OAPs, so it’s also a bit dear (although only £1 to visit after 4pm). These are the only things that mar this otherwise thought provoking and powerful installation.



Documentary of recent Antony Gormley installation "Lot" at Castle Cornet, Guernsey. Film by Peter Root and Paul Arnett www.paulandpeter.com, in association with The International Artist in Residence programme www.iairp.com

Text by Kirsty

Grey Britain

Art, it is said, forces us to view the world in new ways, altering long-held perceptions and drawing our attention to aspects of life that otherwise pass unnoticed. This is undoubtedly the impact of Unpopular Culture at the De La Warr Pavilion at Bexhill-on-Sea, a touring exhibition curated by the transvestite potter and winner of the 2003 Turner Prize, Grayson Perry.

The exhibition presents Perry’s personal selection of British art from the Arts Council Collection, focussing on 1940 to the 1980s, and so dealing with everything from the traumas of the Second World War to the onset of the Thatcher years. It tells a story of Britain that is not one of sugar-coated nostalgia but rather of personal attempts to survive, in various ways, the struggles that faced Britain in this period. It largely ignores the Swinging Sixties and Pop: Perry argues that these chapters of culture were ‘really only enjoyed by a minority’ and did not affect the popular consciousness in the way they are so often documented. Instead, Unpopular Culture seems concerned with the atmosphere of anxiety that dominated the whole period, taking place, as Perry sees it, between two national calamities.

Perhaps for this reason, Perry’s selections have been criticised for their ugliness and overriding greyness. Although they might not always be spectacular or artistically brilliant, the works seem to reflect the collective temperament of Britons at the time. The sculptures are exclusively cast in bronze, and their bulky, clumsy forms, such as that of Anthony Caro’s Woman Waking Up (1956), seem to reflect the unattractiveness of modern construction at the time, devoid of lightness and grace. Much of the sculpture is typical of the post-war reconstruction of the human body in art that no longer saw man as an unbreakable colossus, but as battered and bruised, a precarious survivor of the brutalities of World War Two.

However, the impression the exhibition gives is by no means a wholly negative one. Many of the works embrace a sense of English eccentricity. Tony Ray-Jones’ Brighton Beach 1967 (1967) depicts a group of pensioners in coats and headscarves seated unceremoniously on deckchairs and surrounded by the ubiquitous British picnic accessories, a Thermos flask and Melamine plates. They embody a sense of stoicism, not only for picnicking in bad weather, but for the struggles of post-war life in general. Other works tell a story of defiant individualism in the face of modern developments, for example David Hepher’s Arrangement in Turquoise and Cream (1979-81). Playing on the concept of abstract geometric compositions, the painting is in fact a photorealistic depiction of a tower block. It is faceless and oppressive, yet simultaneously asserts the quiet individuality of each of the occupants through the variety of colours and patterns of the curtains in each window.

In addition to the works from the Arts Council Collection, Perry has created two new pieces for the exhibition, Queen’s Bitter (2007) and Head of a Fallen Giant (2007-8). The latter is particularly interesting in that it is a conscious riposte to Damien Hirst’s notorious £50 million diamond-encrusted skull, For the Love of God, one of the defining pieces of recent sensationalist, media-driven British art. Rather than attempting to shock or impress, Perry’s head exhibits a quiet restraint and yet succeeds in representing the entire condition of Britain today. It is cast in bronze, yet appears as if an ancient skull has been dredged up from the depths of the ocean, encrusted with stereotypical British motifs such as the Routemaster bus. The sculpture confirms the assertion that Britain has not really changed since the 1940s in terms of atmosphere; it is still a country on the edge of despair, yet full of humour and hope just around the corner.

The real triumph of Perry’s exhibition is in the locations in which it will be shown. After the exhibition, I took a drizzly stroll along Bexhill-on-Sea’s promenade with its dilapidated amusement arcade and Brighton-esque onion domes, absorbing its peculiar Englishness and quiet charm that is so often suggested in the works in the show. The exhibition is touring round Preston, Durham, Southampton, Aberystwyth, Scarborough, Wakefield and Bath throughout the rest of the year and 2009. Go to see it, immerse yourself in the exhibition’s particular setting, and discover not only some hidden gems of modern British art, but of modern Britain itself.



Yeah Grayson Perry rules!

Text by Lady Muck

Electro Selecto

This is a re-post from our old myspace blog. Enjoy.

The RWC crew have been rinsing the electro recently, here's a definitive list of music you should know...oh my god I love that 808 hand clap.

Giorgio Moroder - From Here To Eternity (1977) Giorgio Moroder was the man back in the day.



Donna Summer - I Feel Love (1977) The Giorgio Moroder production is killer.



Space were fronted by French musician Didier Marouani who penned Magic fly back in 1977. It went on to reach the top spot of many european countries and found itself at No.2 in the uk top 40 in September of that year.

Had jean michel jarre not had such a huge success with Oxygene the previous year, the French may well have described Marouani as their biggest music exporter.

This has to rate as one of the best early synthpop tracks ever.



Kraftwerk - The Robots (1978) Pure Genius.



M - Pop Muzik (1979) Classic



Joy Division - Love Will Tear us Apart (1979) Not really electro but I would kill to have written that synth part. Amazing tune....



Tubeway Army/Gary Numan - Are Friends Electric (1979) Heavy and dark.



The Flying Lizards - Money (1979) ...again not sure if this should be here - killer tune though.



Gary Numan - Cars (1979) Chooooooooon!



Ultravox - Vienna (1980) Truly beautiful - This means nothing to me.



Tom Tom Club - Wordy Rapping Hood (1981) 1 part Talking Heads = Amazing



Devo - Whip It (1981 I Think) Flower pots = genius, all they need is capes and they'll be the best band in the world,



Depeche Mode - I Just Can't Get Enough (1981) I just can't get enough of this tune.



Soft Cell - Tainted Love (1981) The dopest 80's special effects.



New Order - Blue Monday (1983) True classic. Great video



Heaven 17 - Temptation (1983) Take you higher and higher.



Eurythmics - Sweet Dreams (1983) Such a killer track, I love it.



Animotion - Obsession (1984) So so fresh - It's all about those femail vocals.



Man Parrish - Hip Hop Be Bop (1984) The whole album is killer, check 'Six Simply Synthesizers'.



Dominatrix - The Dominatrix Sleeps Tonight (1984) The sexy dead pan female vocalist is born.



New Order - True Faith (1987) Another great tune and fresh video by New Order.



Les Rythmes Digitales - Sometimes (1999) Darkdancer was the album that got me into electro again, Jacques Lu Cont (complete with spiky mullet) was well ahead of the game in the 80's retro revival. This tune features Nik Kershaw. Sick.



Cylob - Rewind (2000) An amazing video.



Chicks On Speed - Eurotrash Girl (2000) Very Kraftwerk



Peaches - Fuck The Pain Away (2001) Let the electro revival begin, A seriously pivotal record.



Peaches - Set It Off (2001) Also from the Teaches of Peaches (as above). The ugly queen of smut just kills it. Peaches should rule the world.



Fischerspooner - Emerge (2001) The best of the new breed.



Miss Kitten - Frank Sinatra (2001) Miss Kitten = Dead pan vocals = Sick! Killer video too.



Miss Kitten & Hacker - 1982 (2001) Retro as...



Tok Tok VS. Soffy O - Missy Queen's Gonna Die (2001)



Add N to (x) - Take Me to Your Leader (2002) 2002 was a good year for electro, I had some phat nights in London.



Tiga - Sunglasses At Night (2002) Killer



Felix Da Housecat - Silver Screen Shower Scene (2002) Heavy tune



Swayzak - I Dance Alone (2002)



Crazy Girl - Cocaine Talk (2002)



Ladytron - Seventeen (2002)



Chicks on Speed - We Don't Play Guitars (2003) Electro Punk revolutionaries.



Goldfrapp - The Train (2003) Soooooo sexy, the first 10 seconds kill me.



Free Form Five - Eeeeaaooww (2005) Amazing remixers, amazing fonts, ignore the new stuff 2005 is where it's at. This isn't their best tune but the only one I could find with a video.



I'm sure I've forgotten some classics. The late 80's seem a little sparse, as do the 90's and 2005 onwards. Suggestions anyone?