Rue Britannia And The Search For Avalon

Before we exit the month of May (where is the time going?), I thought I'd share with you a couple of quintessentially British events we've enjoyed; one an artistic expression of the nation's obsession with class (specifically what it means to be working class) and the other, an event intended to evoke a romanticised vision of England in days gone by.  I may be digressing here, but if pushed to nominate songs for a soundtrack for each event, I would nominate God Save The Queen and Common People for our first event and the latter would feature The Village Green Preservation Society and most definitely Roxy Music's Avalon.  But enough of my feeble, cryptic attempts at suspense building, let's dive in.  

Last Thursday - the fifth consecutive warm and sunny day - we headed into Birmingham to catch local Black Country artist Dion Kitson's first major solo exhibition, Rue Britannia, at the Ikon Gallery, housed in a Grade II listed neo-gothic school building.  The exhibition is summarised as "Incisive, enterprising and laced with sharp wit, Kitson's artistic practice dissects British class and identity, reshaping its visual hallmarks and traditions across sculpture, installation, film and found objects."  

Growing up as I did in a working class family, art wasn't front and centre of my life.  My Dad was a history buff and we would visit castles, old battlegrounds and museums, but I don't ever recall being taken to an art gallery as a child and to this day, I'm painfully aware of gaps in my knowledge.  Dion clearly has a deep understanding of how the art world can be intimidating - even alien - to great swathes of a population still underpinned by our stubbornly entrenched class system.  The environment was warm and welcoming.  Our arrival just so happened to coincide with Dion's and we said a brief hello before he took to the stairs with a gaggle of exhibition visitors trailing behind. 

 

Inside on the top floor, there were four distinct spaces displaying Dion's work.  Playful and provocative, this included a pebble dashed living room inspired by the one in his Dad's council house (and yes, the original living room was pebble dashed), prints created from scratched bus stop windows... 

...and Dorothy's ruby slippers slung from a suspended telegraph wire.

We bumped into Brummy comedian (and now BAFTA winner) Joe Lycett by the bus stop windows.  Joe said of Dion - not to me but to the press (we're not close): "He understands the state of our nation better than anyone and why it is the way it is: funny and beautiful and dumb."

Visitors were encouraged to interact with Dion or each other over a game of pool (using mops, presumably because pool cues are expensive), as a nod to our beloved pub culture.

At times, the installations were so everyday, that you could be forgiven for walking straight past them.

We popped out briefly to grab a drink from the bar and returned to throngs of people...

...and Elvis, who had entered the building.  Befitting of the Rue Britannia exhibition, this Elvis was none other than "Yam Yam Elvis."  The expression "yam yam" might sound like an exotic vegetable, but it's actually used as a reference to someone from the Black Country, deriving from the local dialect for "you are" ("yo am" or "yam").  Incidentally, this wasn't the first time we'd witnessed a Yam Yam Elvis performance.  The last time he was on stage on the back of a lorry at a local VW show.  Such is life.

While I was fixating on Yam Yam Elvis, I suddenly became aware of another solemn figure standing next to me.  I hadn't spotted him initially and so the life size figure of a traumatised 12 year old Prince Harry (taken from the day he walked behind his mother's funeral procession), took me by surprise.  

Apparently, Dion has had a lifelong fascination with the Royal Family.

Here's Dion himself with his muse.

I deliberately didn't photograph every exhibit, because you really should go if you get chance.  It's playful, poignant, bizarre, beautiful and thought provoking.  So, job done!

Incidentally, such is the state of Birmingham City Council's finances, that the Ikon Gallery will have its funding cut by 50% this year and 100% next year.  For its 60th Anniversary, the gallery has launched a fund raising campaign.  You can read all about it here.

Ikon (ikon-gallery.org)

When Elvis had finally left the building, we headed downstairs and I photographed some of Birmingham's more colourful characters, including one Bob Teal, a wizard and Time Lord no less!

I also bumped into this gorgeous and creative woman, Ayesha.  We've followed each other for years on Instagram, but never met, although we immediately recognised each other and chatted like old friends about cats, photography, design and her latest passion, pottery.

 The evening took an even more unusual turn when Dion encouraged anyone willing, to join him at the pub.  Carried away on a tide of positivity, courtesy of good company, amazing weather and a glass of fizz from the free bar, we and around a dozen others, duly obliged.  I was hoarse the next morning from talking to so many different people.  A truly memorable night.

Two days later, we found ourselves in the grounds of Sudeley Castle in the Cotswolds, the burial place of Katherine Parr.  The Cotswolds has long been associated with high property prices and as home to the glitterati and aristo types, counting former PM Lord Cameron, TV presenter Jeremy Clarkson and supermodel Kate Moss amongst its residents.

We were there to see Avalon, the Medieval themed latest production directed by Cal McCrystal.  Considered one of the UK's national treasures, it's a great escape from everyday life for a couple of magical hours of thrills and circus skills.

We were joined by Vix and Jon and after a quick catch up in a sunny field over a beer, we headed into the big top to watch Merlin, King Arthur and co perform their hearts out.

As usual, I took way too many photos.  If you want to see more, click here:- kigswinford wedding photographer | Winter Peach winterpeach photography

We later accosted some of the key performers, cooling down after the show, who were happy to pose for a photo.  Merlin, aka Spanish showman Maximiliano Stia, messaged me on Instagram to ask permission to share this photo.  After all the fire eating, I expressed my concern for his throat.  He reassured me he was fine and attributed it to "the Merlin diet - eat the four elements."

Vix and I were channelling Medieval Chic; Vix in vintage Gunne Sax and a very pasty looking me in vintage Spectrum.

After a pub meal (our second at the 15th century Ye Olde Hobnails Inn), we said our goodbyes and headed home.  Back to reality...but not before passing this timeless scene.  

So there you have it.  Britain's great and good!