Lustre and A Libertine

I can't believe I'm typing this just a couple of days after the announcement that our meteorological summer is over.  I'm only just getting into my stride!  This year saw a late onset of summer and I for one am not ready for Autumn just yet.  So I'm going to recap on a few interesting local events to keep the summer vibes going.

First up, the Black Country Folk Festival, which combined the talents of some of the Black Country's most successful independent artists of the last decade and took place in Katie Fitzgerald's Secret Garden, last mentioned here: Winter Peach Photography: Learning, Laughter and a Spa Day; The Best Medicine!

This year's festival got off to a shaky start with a last minute change of venue from the original, Himley Hall, and a mix up over timings.  They say bad luck comes in threes and this was no exception.  One of the artists on the bill was forced to pull out due to a health issue and the much lauded Jess Silk, fresh from a set at Beautiful Days Festival, had lost her voice and was struggling with her hearing.  

In spite of all this, Katie's Secret Garden hosted an amazing event.  As per usual, I had my camera with me and indulged in some people watching; an interesting face here...

...a cool jacket...

...and a loved up couple there.  

Many of the punters were clearly regulars and knew each other, but we buddied up with another pair of newbies, Owen and Tracey, from Dublin and Dudley respectively and enjoyed several hours of exchanging stories, listening to live music and the odd beverage!  Gareth caught up with the lead singer of 90s rock band Pele after seeing the band perform at his old student union back in the day.  We also narrowly missed seeing Gareth's old neighbour Dan from Ned's Atomic Dustbin, performing in a side project. (It was late in the day, I knew nothing about this, we'd already been there for hours and the hunger pangs were kicking in). 

But here are a couple of the bands we did see.  First up, the excellent trio Journeyman with their own blend of traditional, foot stomping folk.

Jess Silk, in spite of her ailments, was present for the duration and popped up on stage throughout the day.

Joe Solo made the 8 hour round trip from Scarborough to perform at one of his favourite venues.  As the man himself later said to me, his travel schedule is "borderline masochistic."  A real trooper with seemingly endless battery juice.

Another day, another gig and a venue that's new to us.  A couple of months ago, I spotted Peter Doherty (of Libertines/Babyshambles fame/notoriety) tickets on sale at KK's Steelmill, an intimate venue in Wolverhampton and promptly snapped up a couple.

Peter is living a life of relative sobriety these days, but there's still an air of unpredictability about him and we knew we would be in for an interesting evening.

Sure enough, upon arrival, I went to check out the merch, only to find a flustered looking man setting out polo shirts for the support act on a table.  I asked whether or not he had anything of Peter's and he responded by requesting another 15 minutes as "Peter has loads in his dressing room" and yet, apart from one very tiny t-shirt and a few copies of Peter's book, nothing materialised for the rest of the evening.

Not that it mattered. We were there for the music.  Peter appeared on stage well ahead of schedule and without any fanfare, sang a song and then introduced the first of two support acts.  Throughout the gig, he would, without warning, dash on stage, dance and jump around on the sofas, harmonise with the second support act, Welshman Jack Jones (part purveyor of "bangers" and part stand up comedian) before exiting the stage again.

Peter's own set was thrilling.  He moved seamlessly from one song to another, engaged well with the crowd and was very generous and inclusive to the support acts.  There was only one hiccup when he dropped his harmonica and then cursed the fact that it had been in the wrong key all along.  Not that the crowd noticed.  He rounded the night off with an impromptu signing session as people began tossing on stage everything from pieces of cardboard to Vans trainers for him to scribble on.

As per usual, I lamented the fact that I was only allowed my mobile phone camera, but given that we were right at the front, I was able to get some slightly superior photos and chat to his old friend and official (female) gig photographer.

For our final immersion into local culture, we took a trip into town - Birmingham's Jewellery Quarter - to catch Dion Kitson's Silver Lining Exhibition, which coincides with his first major exhibition at the Ikon Gallery (you can read about that here: Winter Peach Photography: Rue Britannia And The Search For Avalon)

Housed within JW Evans' Silver Factory, which opened in 1881, Dion has carefully placed various works throughout the factory premises, playfully and poignantly drawing on his working class roots and parallels with JW Evans himself, a self made man, whose silverware castings business passed through three generations of the same family.  

Dion utilises found objects, elevating them to relatable art.  

This piece, Vice, shows gold plated cigarette butts secured in a vice...a simple concept utilising great wordplay.

This piece, a gold plated broken bottle of Frosty Jack cider, laments the addiction problems which afflicted members of the community Dion grew up amongst, often resulted in burn out.

Bob:  Mechanised dunking Digestive biscuits.  A nod to a very British tradition and the workers' tea break, these nodding biscuits could also be interpreted as subservient nods to the big bosses.

Numerous discarded footballs were mounted in a trophy style cabinet...a visual representation of broken dreams.

This clock, which has been partially filled with resin coated baked beans is entitled "Somat to ate" (Black Country for "something to eat" or a reference to the time.)   I'm not sure why I actually waited for this photo bomber to do his thing.  The result made me smile.

My favourite had to be Tin Man, created in the artists own image and an homage to his favourite childhood film, The Wizard of Oz.  Inspiration struck as soon as Dion laid eyes on this lump of metal.

Originally three terraced houses, the properties were knocked through to house the factory, before spilling out into the long, narrow gardens.  A guided tour was essential.  We may well otherwise still be rattling around inside the out buildings with the factory ghosts and cobwebs for company.  

This atmospheric place is now owned and operated by English Heritage, but is very much the poor cousin to bigger attractions such as Kenilworth Castle, receiving a smaller piece of the funding pie.  This by no means takes away its lustre.  JW Evans Silver Factory is a must visit place; a fascinating glimpse into our heritage and a rapidly dying skillset.  It remains as it was when it was finally handed over to English Heritage in 2008, complete with machinery, dies, office supplies, tools, silverware and some incredible furniture.

I loved the factory's utilitarian chic - with wood/paint patina aplenty - possibly more than the silver itself.  Sadly, no photos were allowed of the silverware, but take my word for it, there were some incredible pieces, including a silver Wee Willy Winky's "Nightcap" cup.  

Tours of the factory are available all year round with advance booking advisable.  Dion's exhibition ends on 16th September.

Soon I have my penultimate wedding of the year we've a coastal getaway on the horizon.  

See you back here soon!

The Indian Influence

As I write, we're at the back end of a rare phenomenon in the UK - a sunny May Bank Holiday weekend!  The dawn chorus (and I've been awake to hear more than a few of those lately) has been more robust and musical, the brilliant morning sunlight has worked its way around the edges of our blackout blind providing that unmistakable glow of optimism and the smell of summer has wafted through the open bedroom window on a gentle breeze.  It's been nothing short of bliss.

Dandelion clock from the garden

We celebrated a good friend's birthday on Saturday evening at a BBQ (remember those?)  Birthday boy Ade was dressed in a poncho and cowboy hat and the fact that no-one batted an eyelid, gives you some indication of the history we have with this set of friends.  

On Bank Holiday Monday we visited an Indian Palace in the Cotswolds.  Yes, you heard right!  But more on that later.

Rewinding a little, our most recent gig at our favourite local venue, The Halls in Wolverhampton, was 90s sensation Kula Shaker.  If you didn't already know, the band takes its name from a 9th century Indian emperor.   Formed by Crispian Mills (daughter of English actress Hayley Mills, grandson of actor John Mills), the band has had a number of incarnations, one of which ended particularly acrimoniously.  This resulted in Crispian backpacking around India, a country which had a profound effect on him.  Consequently the band was renamed and the 60s/70s psychedelic rock they favoured, took on the influences of Indian instrumentation, mysticism and spirtualism.

Whilst we definitely appreciated Kula Shaker's sound at the time, the 90s was awash with great British bands and somehow, they weren't firmly on our radar.  We knew who they were, how accomplished they were, but our exposure was limited to their chart hits and the ruminations of a particularly enthusiastic friend.  However, when I spotted they were playing locally, some inner voice told me to book some tickets.

We decided to try out the hip North Street bar we'd clocked when we saw Johnny Marr a few weeks earlier and got quite comfortable in there, listening to this young DJ's excellent and eclectic choice of music.  

Gareth's opinion of the bar increased tenfold when the bar worker realised too late that she hadn't added his bag of scratchings to our bill and insisted he have them on the house.  As the saying goes, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach!

By the time we reached the venue, we were dismayed to discover that we'd almost missed the support act, The Dohl Foundation.  We were grateful to witness their closing track, but annoyed at ourselves for so badly mistiming this one!  

However, the main act blew us away.  There's a current phrase often bandied around to describe the offspring of famous people, who successfully carve out a career of their own in the public eye - "nepo babies."  Crispian Mills unfortunately fell victim to this in the 90s.  But this blonde, spritely 50-something laid waste to the tag by leaping around on stage like a 20 year old and playing like Hendrix himself!  The lighting was pretty special too.

At one point, Crispian had both his guitar and ukulele slung around his neck and alternated between the two.

For us, one of the standout tracks was their cover of Chura Liya You've stolen my heart), a song from an old Bollywood movie.  Now where did I learn that?  From Vix of course!  We bumped into Vix and Jon later in the set after the penny dropped that this must have been the gig she had eluded to in her recent blog, so I decided to message her.  Given the sheer excitement and chest thumping sound that this band produced, I didn't hold out much hope of a reply, but luckily she spotted my message and we were able to enjoy the last part of the gig and walk back through town together.  

I managed to film (with a steady hand) the Chura Liya performance in its entirety.  You can watch it here if you're interested.

Kula Shaker perform Chura Liya, Wulfrun Hall, Wolverhampton, 25th April 2024 (youtube.com)

Since the gig, I've edited over 400 photos from an amazingly individual outdoor wedding and attended a wedding fayre.  Consequently, I've felt it necessary to once again reduce my screen time to some semblance of normality.

Anyway, back to the Bank Holiday weekend.  Yesterday we visited Sezincote.  We fancied a change from the National Trust properties we're so familiar with and opted for one from the Historic Houses list instead.  Historic Houses is a cooperative, not-for-profit association comprised of over a thousand independently owned and operated houses, castles and gardens of major historical importance.  Many, like Sezincote, are privately owned, lived-in homes.  This, for us, was part of the appeal.

Sezincote is, in essence, India in the Cotswolds - a 200 year old Mughal Indian palace, set in a romantic landscape of temples, grottoes, waterfalls and canals reminiscent of the Taj Mahal. 

After a 3 minute walk from the car park down a winding, sloping lane, visitors are directed to the entrance between two Indian cars.  

The maroon coloured car's interior provided me with an immediate distraction.  Check out this interior!

The house itself, completed in 1805, was built in a combination of Hindu and Muslim architectural styles.  It was the brainchild of  Colonel John Cockerell, grandson of the diarist Samuel Pepys.  Cockerell returned to England after amassing a fortune working for the East India Company, but sadly died three years later in 1798 and so the estate passed to his younger brother Charles, who had also worked for the company.  Charles commissioned his brother Samuel, an architect, to design and build a house in the Mughal style of Rajasthan, complete with minarets, peacock tail windows, jali-work railings and pavilions, also heavily relying on the extensive knowledge and skills of artist Thomas Daniell.

Over the years the house ("...always a happy house" according to our guide) has welcomed many notable figures, including the poet, John Betjeman.  Betjeman wrote of his visit to Sezincote: "Down the drive, under the early yellow leaves of oaks...the bridge, the waterfall, the Temple pool and there they burst on us, the onion domes." 

Queen Mary, another visitor (who appears in one of the framed family photos on a side table in the master bedroom) was a little light fingered and simply took what she liked on visits to Sezincote and other properties that played host to her, such was her sense of entitlement.  It is a matter of record that a tally was kept by a member of her staff and following her death, each and every item was returned to its rightful owner.

I jokingly suggested that I might borrow an exquisite Indian chair from one of the bedrooms and claimed that I was a descendant of Queen Mary's.  I'm not sure the guide believed me.  Tut tut!

There were also two horse figurines standing proud on a half moon table, which, we were all pretty staggered to hear, dated back to the 9th century Tang dynasty.  The guide suggested that they really should be in glass cases.  Given the resident cats' propensity for jumping up onto tables and breaking things, I'm amazed they aren't locked up in the safe!

Overall, the interior was impressive, but classical in style; predominantly Regency and Greek Revival at heart, though littered with artwork and Chinese and Indian antiques picked up on travels.

By now you've probably realised that photographs are not permitted inside the property, which remains a family home and at the centre of a thriving agricultural estate.

Given that it's really the exterior that truly screams "India" I was able to capture this at leisure.  

The extensive gardens were designed with the help of Humphrey Repton and the property is credited with influencing the design of Brighton Pavilion after a visit by the Prince Regent in 1807. 

Brighton Pavilion

We spent a sultry afternoon with friends Neil and Laura, wandering around the magnificent gardens, before retiring to the Orangery for cold drinks and cakes (mine a delicious orange and almond cake with edible flowers).

I'll leave you with my highlights.  

Brahmin bulls adorned the Indian Bridge.

My sneaky view from one of the bedrooms, looking towards the Head Gardener's "cottage".  Incidentally, the gardener was poached from a modest little dwelling in London town, commonly known as Buckingham Palace.

A closer look at the cottage, also created in Indian style.

The Grotto.

Surely the most beautiful Tennis Pavilion?

Snake Pool, with its three headed serpent.  Indian Bridge in the background.

The Tent Room was locked, but I got a glimpse through the window.

Onwards and upwards we walked, along the stream and pools flanked by bog plants and all manner of rare plants...

...to the Temple to Surya.  Surya had definitely been working her magic this weekend.  It was so good to cast off the layers and coats.

Queen Mary continued to speak to me from beyond the grave, whispering in my ear that I might want to take one of these incredible shells home.  I doubt I would have been able to lift if if I'd tried!

Soon it was time to head back to the Orangery....with its impressive curvature...

....bejewelled with tulips and housing tender climbing plants - and cake!

The Cotswolds really is full of surprises!  Who would have guessed that it was also home to the only Mughal Palace in Northern Europe?

Incidentally, you can also get married here (civil ceremonies) between May and September.  There's a choice of the Orangery which has capacity for 220 people, or the dining room looking out onto the Persian garden, for smaller gatherings of up to 70 people.  So if someone's stolen your heart, you might want to consider this place.  Magical!

Talking of weddings, I can't wait to share some of the photos from my latest festival style wedding.  Until next time!