A quick tour around Black Gull Books, Camden Market.
A woman from New York was in the shop the other day - bought a book on Patrick Heron. I said I liked the look of what was inside and we got into an Art chat. Turned out she was an academic studying in London. Stupidly, knowing the answer even before I'd finished the question, I asked if she made Art. Of course not. There are studiers and doers, right?
I knew I wasn't cut out for studying anything, right from an early age and despite being Pupil of the Year at junior school. After that it was all uphill into the land of clothes, music and discos where, if I was lucky, I got to snog a girl outside the hall. Oh the good ol' days, when girls tasted of crisps, chewing gum and Pernod...well, one did anyway...and I didn't mind!).
Even though I liked Art classes I still couldn't be arsed with studying anything...like...techniques, you know, skills. I suppose that shows, 45 years later. I'm not saying that's a good thing. Well, painting or drawing a bowl of fruit or country scene just wasn't for me, you know? I was ahead of my time. 45 years later you don't need old-fashioned skills to get into Art school, do you? No, just turn up for the interview with a head full of ideas - no bloody portfolio! And for your degree show, present those ideas written out (or printed, if you insist). It's conceptual, see? Take that!
We chatted (well she did) about MOMA, its collections and how they hung them. I haven't been to a gallery since they started insisting on wearing masks. I didn't tell her that for fear she would mark me as an anti-vaxxer. She said she preferred London to New York, partly because it was greener. I told her New York would probably overwhelm me. It's only ever appealed if I could travel back in time to...1950? Yes, when all men wore suits and hats and the Jazz scene was hot - Be-Bop!
Finally, some ephemera, found in a book this week. Love the name of this salon...a Hairitorium no less!
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