Throwing back to an earlier post about animation shoots, dead snails and a bedroom on fire, one may click here for a link to the final result, (scroll down on left to Pia Borg's one if thou wish to scope).

"As a place of sepulture.. and ornamented both by nature and art this beautiful cemetery must have attractions for the most unobserving and the least reflecting... a more picturesque and accessible spot... it would be difficult to find". (Found in a Victorian periodical below an engraving of the new statue to Isaac Watts)

Saturday was a good one in London, Autumn is reaching a peak leaf drop scenario (Autumn, unlike home is well defined here, I like it a lot) the weather is cold and I have ditched my thinner 'inspector gadget' grey jacket for a thicker 'paddinton bear' style number. I like ruggin up and getting out and about and this was a perfect day for it. On this day I went to Stoke Newington for the first time. I had an old friend to catch up with, one, whom i adore but do not see enough. As this was her hood she took me and the lady to a swell coffee joint, followed by a swell late breakfast eatery and then a couple of 2nd hand bookshops. All fine and hella good but it was a quick sojourn to the local cemetary that really buttered this Sabbath crumpet. The 'Abney Park' cemetary is right in the middle of the main 'shopping district' in Stoke Newington and as such i have never encountered a cemetary in such a local in my life. It was a strange feeling but after exploring within and some searches on line later it all made sense.

"Abney Park is a historic C18th century parkland preserved in memory of Dr Isaac Watts and Lady Mary Abney. These are the grounds where Isaac Watts wrote a number of his hymns and verses; the site of a novel Quaker girl's school where the first school bus in the world was introduced, and an early Methodist training college. In 1840 most of the historic park was set aside as the first wholly non-denominational garden cemetery in Europe; a largely Congregationalist enterprise. It became a celebrated example of a Victorian 'rural cemetery' modelled on Mount Auburn in America. At this time it also contained a free public arboretum of immense proportions".

"Its 2,500 trees and shrubs were all labelled, and arranged around the perimeter alphabetically, from A for Acer (maple trees) to Z for Zanthoxylum (American toothache trees)".

Basically this cemetary is old. Most tombstone are from the 19th Century, dribbling up to the late 1940's. Given that this was the first arboretum to be combined with a cemetery in Europe there is, along with the grave's an abundance of trees, shrubs and moss. All paths were covered with roots, leaves and twigs, given the time of year the ground was damp and the folliage very dense.

The walk (and as i said this was a minute walk from where I had previously quoffed down a poor UK version of a 'continental breakfast' and had scoured for a fresh second hand copy of 'Against the Day') was really grand. This park/cemetary is really beautiful and despite my joy it was short loved as 'closing time at 4' had myself and company worrying about getting lost in the thicket, spending the evening amongst this gothic treasure whilst ineviatably freezing our collective buzoo's off!!

I have always despised the idea of award ceremony's or anything along this creative/competitive scenario. This maybe stems from an ingrained non darwinesque repulsion to competition - i have tried, i do not like sport! Or simply a lack of comprehension with regards to the principle of something being'the best' especially with regards to culture. How can an individual, with a unique psychology, ubringing and perspective agree with another that is approaching from a completely unique angle/experience? The idea of a collective 'best' is absurd, but i am really stating the obvious now, so let's move on shall we? I spent a week in Berlin earlier this month, it was killer, so as a means of confroting my predjudice and qithout further adieu, let's strut through the 'Best of Berlin Nov 2007' :

BEST 2ND HAND RECORD PURCHASED:

Om Kalsoum's "Lessabr Heddoud" LP on Sono Cairo (3 euro)
This LP has a beautiful cover but, alas, I can't find a cover image on line, so for those that may be unaware Om Kalsoum, or indeed, Om Kalthoum was considered the greatest Arabic singer of the 20th Century and is still highly regarded. She sold by the squillion and was (is) adored by nations. Her music is rather devastating. I first encountered her music at the legendary Karrara record shop in Tokyo 5 years or so ago, I always look for her records, but despite her popularity, in the West these are often scarce, enough for this to be a rare occurance, at least to a lazy bod like moi!



From Wikipedia: Umm Kulthum was born in Tamay-az-Zahayra village, within under Al Senbellawein City, Ad Daqahliyah Governorate, Egypt. Following much research, the Egyptian Ministry of Information places her actual date of birth as December 31, 1904. At a young age, she showed exceptional singing talents. Her father, an Imam, taught her to recite the Qur'an, and she is said to have memorized the entire Qur'an. When she was 12 years old, her father disguised her as a young boy and entered her in a small performing troupe that he directed. At the age of 16 she was noticed by Abu El-Ala Mohamed, a modestly famous singer, and by the famous oudist Zakaria Ahmed who asked her to accompany them to Cairo. However, she waited until 1923 before accepting the invitation...

In Cairo, she carefully avoided succumbing to the attractions of the bohemian lifestyle, and indeed throughout her life stressed her pride in her humble origins and espousal of conservative values. She also maintained a tightly managed public image, which undoubtedly added to her allure.

At this point in her career, she was introduced to the famous poet Ahmad Rami, who wrote 137 songs for her. Rami also introduced her to French literature, which he greatly admired from his studies at the Sorbonne, Paris, and eventually became her head mentor in Arabic literature and literary analysis. Furthermore, she was introduced to the renowned lute virtuoso and composer Mohamed El Kasabji. El Kasabji introduced Umm Kulthum to the Arabian Theatre Palace, where she would experience her first real public success. In 1932, her fame increased to the point where she embarked upon a large tour of the Middle East, touring such cities as Damascus, Baghdad, Beirut, and Tripoli.

BEST HUMAN:

Valerio Tricoli
With decent enough competition, Valerio stole the show. 2 highlights being his 'accidental' throwing of a bottle at Tim Goldie during his trio show with Mattin and Philip Best resulting in cut face, blood and vindication!
Along with his inebriated rant against a certain Dutch performer - a heavy chuckle inducing scenario. The cats killer and the new 3/4 business is equally as grand.

A good human, did I mention this?

BEST PERFORMANCE:

Junko solo
Hands down!! "Junko" is Junko Hiroshige, a longtime member of Hijo Kaidan, who has been described as "the legendary grand dame of Japanese shriek". Who am I too disagree? Almost one hour and a half hours of solo shriek tested the patience of 95% of the nights punters. Those who lasted will never forget her relentless cyclical scree. The set was not angst-ridden, carthatic or emotional manipulative. It was demanding and rewarding, the further she went, the longer it seemed it would go on and the more one was drawn into this strange aural shell. Junko also looked suitably creepy with minimal lighting coming up from the floor partially highlighting her face only and black 'hellraiser' T-shirt. Intensity in one city.

No footage of the 'creep in the cellar' set that i saw but regardless for an indication scope this vid of Junko live at No music Fest with members of The Nihilist Spasm Band:



BEST MARKET:

Tiergarten S-Bahn Flea Market.
Great 2nd Hand record shopping (thanks lizzie!), loads of commie momento's, piles of kitch and more - this was perfect Sunday in Autumn fodder. Mind you there was no competition as this is the only Flea Market I attended but i hear there are many others equally as grand, mmmmmmm, next time.

OK - Enough of the Best, The Worst? Well one, and it's a biggie:

WORST AIRLINE:

Ryan Air. No Surprises here I guess, but let me tell you a story. After 5 nights of good shows, good laughs, great food, great folks and generally a "man, i iwsh i lived here" time, myself and 3 other pals from London head to Schonfeld airport at about 9 to catch our plane leaving at 10:55. We check in, collect boarding passes, have a beer, walk to the gate and await boarding. After 30 mins (and 10 mins before departure) we are informed our flight has been cancelled. Wha? 10 more mins of much confusion, people running around etc then a little man in bad suit informs us we have to go to the ticket counter and replace ticket counter. All the passengers trope back up towards to the ticket counter only to find that part of airport has closed for the night! 30 more mins of confusion, chaos and general disorder until we are informed: No flight, no refund, no transfer and no airport to stay in - you have 10 mins to leave!! Pope on a papadum! what a glorious mess. There were single mums juggling multiple spawn, 2 old dears in wheelchairs and we all got the boot!! Luckily for me my lady was in Berlin for 5 more nights and I had somewhere to stay, a pal booked me another ticket back the next day (70 pounds later) and despite the frustration I got off relatively lightly! Suffice to say Ryan Air can kiss my colonial ass and next time I leave the "Mother Country' I will look into my favourite mode of European Transport, the humble locomotive.