Author: East End Review

  • Inside Wilton’s Music Hall

    The Mahogany Bar, Wilton's Music Hall. Photograph: James Perry
    The Mahogany Bar, Wilton’s Music Hall. Photograph: James Perry

    To visit Wilton’s Music Hall for the first time is to discover something new about London. 

    Hidden down an alley way in the heart of London’s East End, Wilton’s at first glance is just a wooden doorway surrounded by a facade of peeled paint and worn stone. 

    But inside lies a gymnasium-sized mid-nineteenth century auditorium, once a rowdy hub of Victorian popular entertainment, where sailors and their sweethearts would carouse to the leading Music Hall acts of the day. During the 1860s and 1870s, the theatre saw tightrope walkers, the first British can-can show, and performances by artistes such as Champagne Charlie, one of the first music hall acts to play to royalty, now a resident of Abney Park cemetery.  

    In the main hall the sense of past is palpable. You can imagine dock workers standing by the cast iron barley-twist columns, or canoodling up in the gallery. The original stage is vertigo-inducing, made to accommodate an audience of top hat wearers, and on the ceiling you can see where a crystal chandelier with 300 gas jets once hung, ventilating the hall from the rising plumes of tobacco smoke. 

    The hall has recently undergone substantial repair work, though you wouldn’t realise it by the bare brick walls and furnishings. “The hall is finished and is exactly how we want it to be,”  Wilton’s Oona Patterson insists. “We may still have holes in the roof but whereas they once were real they are now preserved. It’s typical East London shabbiness – but I’d like to think we were there first.” 

    Although a significant period, the 30 years Wilton’s spent as a music hall was relatively short. In 1888 the building was bought by the East London Methodist Mission, and became a focus for efforts to alleviate extreme poverty and improve living conditions. During the Great Dock Strike of 1889, a soup kitchen was set up that provided a thousand meals a day to the starving families of dockers.

    The Methodist Mission stayed open for nearly 70 years, surviving the Blitz and witnessing the Battle of Cable Street in 1936. But after the Second World War the building fell derelict and was scheduled for demolition before a campaign supported Sir John Betjeman, Peter Sellars and Spike Milligan managed to save it from the wrecking ball.  

    The next turning point in fortune came in 1997 when a newly reopened Wilton’s staged a one-woman performance by Fiona Shaw of T.S.Eliot’s The Wasteland. The faded grandeur of Wilton’s provided a perfect setting for the poem and put the venue on people’s radar once more.  

    The threats of closure and demolition now in the past, Wilton’s is in the midst of addressing the long term structural problems with the building. Back in 1850, founder John Wilton had a vision for a ‘Magnificent Music Hall’ which consisted of buying five terraced properties, knocking them through, and building a music hall in what was essentially their back gardens. 

    The result was a unique structure – few theatres have the main entrance to the auditorium behind a staircase. But it also created some unique structural problems: namely, the auditorium and the houses it backs onto are not a perfect fit. From one of the office rooms you can see clear space between the back wall of the houses and the hall. 

    “It looks pretty cool, the way the light comes through, but in the long term it’s not ideal – there are a lot of leaks. What we’ve previously been able to do is to make it as strong as we’ve needed to continue using it, but it was never going to be sustainable,” says Patterson. 

    From this summer until autumn next year Wilton’s, while remaining open with a full programme of events, will be undergoing repairs to fix the structural irregularities once and for all. “We just want to stop the clock so that it’s safe and it’s structurally secure,” says Patterson. 

    But when the curtain rises on the new and improved Wilton’s Music Hall in 2015, don’t expect it to look much different from how it is now. “We’re not going to replaster everywhere and we’re not going to put in shiny floors,” Patterson adds.  

    “But we are going to make it safe and we’re going to get things like some proper electricity and maybe even some plumbing!” 

    Wilton’s Music Hall, 1 Graces Alley, E1 8JB.

  • Clapton street artist RUN given first solo exhibition

    Mural by RUN
    Mural by RUN

    This month sees Hackney-based Italian artist RUN’s first solo exhibition, at the Hang-Up gallery in Stoke Newington, though in reality his work has been on public display for years. 

    RUN made his first big wall painting in 2001, and since then has daubed his signature interlocking faces and hands on walls in such far off lands as Senegal and China. 

    But to get the full RUN experience, East London really is the place to be. Whether it’s the Mount Rushmore-esque quintet of puffy cheeked figures on the towpath to Hackney Wick, or his recent ‘map of modern diseases’ adorning Bateman’s Row in Shoreditch, RUN’s work is ubiquitous, with the urban landscape his ever changing gallery space. 

    Dancer Master is a multi-media exhibition featuring an exclusively-made body of work. The notion of place looms large for RUN, and explaining his inspiration for the show, he says: “Many years ago when visiting south India, a taxi driver that was driving me around the streets of the city of Colombo took me to a Hindu temple. 

    “Pointing to a statue of a divinity he said ‘Here lies the dancer master’. The statue was beautiful; full of colours, with hands and arms that were made to give the viewer the impression of a dance of the spirit.”

    Amid the sometime greyness of the city, RUN’s colourful creations emit an air of mysticism and spirituality that sits at odds with many Londoners’ time poor lives. It is perhaps this contrast that gives his art power, so it will be intriguing to see how RUN’s paintings fare exhibited in the more conventional and controlled setting of a Fine Art gallery.  

    Dancer Master is at Hang-Up Gallery, 56 Stoke Newington High Street N16 7PB from 21 June – 9 August. 

  • Hackney’s Finest hour?

    You talking to me?
    You talking to me? Chris Bouchard’s Hackney’s Finest

    Director Chris Bouchard – the man behind sensational Lord of the Rings spin-off The Hunt for Gollum, which has raked in over 13 million views on Youtube – has turned his creative eye to Hackney for a first full-length feature, set to premiere at the East End Film Festival this month.

    Hackney’s Finest is billed as an East London gangster flick that follows a troupe of hapless drug dealers as they clash with Russian thugs, Welsh-Jamaican rude boys and a pair of villainous coppers. Going by the trailer, it looks to be a mash-up of Guy Ritchie and John Mackenzie, with a squeeze of Tarantino to boot.

    “It’s quite extreme,” says Bouchard. “It’s got lots of drug use, it doesn’t shy away from strong language and violence, and it’s trying to reflect what things might actually be like on the streets of East London. It’s real but it’s also having fun. It’s entertaining and it doesn’t take itself too seriously, but it’s not totally ridiculous. You could almost believe that these characters could be out there somewhere – Hackney Wick probably,” he laughs.

    “There are definitely nods to those guys who’ve made these brilliant films and it’s a sense of humour that I really appreciate, but it’s got its own twist. We’ve got these characters that you haven’t seen before in the Guy Ritchie films.”

    Bouchard came across the script soon after the success of Gollum, his debut short. He explains that his mother was attending a creative writing class in Gloucester when she met Thorin Seex, a burgeoning screenwriter. Foreseeing a fruitful collaboration, she put the two in touch.

    “He’s an interesting guy. He’s an ex-squatter from Hackney and now he’s in insurance,” Bouchard says. “He’s willing to admit he’s had a very misspent youth, and he’s written all these crazy stories.”

    The film has already courted some controversy, meeting with a mixed response from viewers at private test screenings. In addition to the violence and language, the director readily admits that Hackney’s Finest makes light of persistent and substantial drug use. He describes the decision to treat the material in this way as tough but correct.

    “The drug use is pretty strong, it doesn’t hold back. It’s got quite a flippant tone to it and so some people were a bit horrified at this and then other people who were a bit more open-minded were like, ‘Wow, this is pushing it a bit beyond what we’ve seen before’. So yeah, there are some strong themes in there.”

    With its full cinema release not scheduled for another four or five months, Bouchard is thrilled for the feature to be premiering at the Hackney Picturehouse as part of the East End Film Festival.

    “It’s just perfect isn’t it? We’re just really happy about that,” he says. “Hackney Picturehouse is a great cinema and the whole story happens just round the corner so it’s pretty cool. It’s the perfect place really.”

    No matter what happens at the premiere on 14 June, Hackney’s Finest is sure to leave a mark.

  • Your guide to the East London zine scene

    Long shelf life: Ti Pi Tin in Stoke Newington has an abundant supply of zines. Photograph: Eleonore de Bonneval
    Shelf life: Ti Pi Tin art book shop in Stoke Newington is well stocked with zines. Photograph: Eleonore de Bonneval

    “What’s a zine?”, people venture, confusion mingling with apprehension, as I begin that tricky task of explaining my enthusiasm for an obscure, self-published leaflet in the age of live-feeds, tweets and ubiquitous internet domination.

    Punk, feminist, anarchist and eco zines have been an integral facet of counter- and sub-culture since the 1970s, particularly prominent in New York and other US metropoles. Short for fanzines – named for their dedication to one subject –  zines are lo-fi, usually black and white (though often with colour covers), photocopied, self-published booklets that tend to have a print run of less than 100, and are often created by just one person. They are rarely profit-making enterprises, nor do they feature any advertising.

    You’d think that the advent of the internet and the corresponding increase in e-zines might have negated the impact of DIY zines, but if anything people seem to appreciate the rare pleasure of holding actual paper in their hands. The internet has also facilitated like-minded members of zine communities to swap notes (and zines), and to spread the word on workshops, zine fairs and distribution.

    In fact, I discovered my first zine fair through an internet stumble – and turned up one day at QZFL (Queer Zine Fest London) last December at Space Station Sixty-Five in South East London with no idea what to expect. A veritable mecca for DIY publications and an incredibly tight-knit, yet friendly community awaited: hundreds of zines and their makers showcasing their work on a variety of themes, including break-ups, transgender identity, mental health issues, zine-making, and meditations on feminism, identity, sex and love. Alongside homemade cake and quiche, zines were on sale for between 50p and around £4 (some for free), with free workshops and talks running all day. 

    Since that fair, nursing a long-harboured idea of creating an alternative publication for new writing as a kind of antithesis to women’s magazines, I have cautiously made my own first entree into zine-making. It doesn’t matter that I did not grow up with zines, that I don’t know much about how they are made. Zines are experimental in their nature, to played around with and adapted. There is something calming about sticking, pasting, collating and re-connecting with some basic creative modes.

    Zines themselves, as well as zine fairs and festivals, are often quite transient, and so can be hard to keep track of. Since QZFL I’ve visited a great zine fair in Kilburn, organised by small-press OOMK – One of My Kind. London College of Communication, along with the Women’s Library, houses an excellent collection of zines which are well worth checking out.

    In London, I can recommend Housman’s political bookshop in King’s Cross; Freedom Press bookshop in Whitechapel, founded in 1866 and still retaining its anarchist credentials; the small but zine-rich Book Art Bookshop, also in Shoreditch; and Ti Pi Tin in Stoke Newington for a more art-based zine selection. There are countless more which you will discover for yourselves – The London Bookshop Map is great for searching for different types of specialist bookshops.

    The third East London Comics and Arts Fair is taking place on Saturday 14 June at Oval Space, with exhibitors of graphic art, comics, zines and a host of talks. It’s as good an introduction to the scene as any, with talks on comic strips, sustainable self-publication, binding methods and much more. Take a look at their website, and you may never look back from the cut-paste world of small-press publication.

    To find out more about Phoebe’s Seven Deadly Sins-themed zine series, email undine.zine@gmail.com.

  • All night Macbeth to be staged in East London

    Rift's Macbeth: so foul and fair a play you might never have seen. Photograph: Camilla Greenwell
    Rift’s Macbeth: so foul and fair a play you might never have seen. Photograph: Camilla Greenwell

    Sleepovers can be dark, scary, sexy, curious: Rift’s Macbeth promises to be all this and more.

    Following the success of last year’s The Trial, enacted across Hoxton by this pint-sized, innovative theatre company, the outfit returns with Shakespeare’s timeless tragedy –  witches, conspiracy and murder being the perfect bedfellows for a midsummer’s eve.

    Fiery, sinister and timelessly eerie, Macbeth is a good choice for Rift to take on – their track record of producing immediate, stomach-churning theatre stands them in good stead to put on a knock-out show.

    This overnight production, staged in a ‘brutalist architectural masterpiece’ in East London until August, comes at a moment when immersive theatre is on everyone’s lips. Headed up by Felix Mortimer and Joshua Nawras, Rift – whose previous works include The Wall and O Brave New World – can be counted alongside Punchdrunk and Secret Cinema for pioneering an intensely interactive form of performance that places the audience at the centre of the action.

    Director Felix Mortimer says: “Macbeth will push the boundaries of form, experimenting with dreams and the subconscious. The audience will be taken in groups to the location, the action unfolding around them: they will be a part of it. This is an exciting stage in our development.”

    Macbeth promises its audience a thrilling night of intrigue and drama to awaken the imagination, and perhaps scare you silly. The play’s characters will visit the gathered crowd in the night, enacting the chilling events surrounding Duncan’s murder and finally waking you at dawn for the final act. ‘Macbeth seen from the inside out’ will be a feast for the senses, heightened by the dark and the outdoors; stepping inside the Scottish scourge, you will come “face-to-face with witches … feasting with the Macbeths … as a siege rages around you”. This may be the most outrageous invitation to bed you’ve ever received.

    Steel your nerves and take your place in the hallowed halls of this yet unknown location out east for a long night of toil and trouble.

    Macbeth will be at a secret East London location until August.

    www.macbeth.in

  • Riding a new wave: Mexican cinema comes to the East End Film Festival

    Underwater shot from Club Sandwich, showing at Rich Mix as part of the East End Film Festival this month
    Underwater shot from Club Sandwich, showing at Rich Mix as part of the East End Film Festival this month

    The uninitiated might find something incongruous about the East End Film Festival having a focus on contemporary Mexican cinema, but it always has been an outward and cosmopolitan affair and not just a chance to check out the latest East London gangster movie. 

    Luis Buñuel, Guillermo de Toro, Gael García Bernal and Amores Perros are on my most rudimentary of Mexican cinema checklists, but of course this doesn’t begin to scratch the surface. Today, in some quarters, the now hackneyed phrase ‘new wave’ is being rolled out, so this month’s festival will provide film audiences with the chance to see whether it really is a wave,
    or just a ripple. 

    In his hometown of Mexico City, director Sebastian Hofmann is gearing up for an appearance at the festival as its director-in-residence. Last year, Hofmann’s debut feature Halley won the Best Feature Award. It is a tense and surreal film about a man who is lonely because he has a secret – he cannot die. And while he plays out his life working in a gym among well-honed bodies, his own body is rotting away. 

    “It comes from the fear of having to live inside a body, of being imprisoned in a skin suit and knowing that eventually you will decay and die,” he tells me matter of factly. 

    The main character, Alberto, Hofmann describes as a “contemporary Frankenstein” – an epilogue filmed in Greenland rams home the allusion – and his life in Mexico City, one of the most populous places on the planet, is a solitary one, dominated by the secret of his immortality and the constant attempts to ‘maintain’ his rotting body. 

    Hofmann calls his film “a philosophical essay on the body and skin”, though the roots of his filmmaking lie in a childhood spent watching eighties horror movies. Having studied cinema, his tastes are now more refined, and his concerns more about finding new and original forms of expression in film.

    “I like it when films surprise me. I watch a lot of great films but they look just like all the great films that I’ve watched in the past, or they look like the great films that have been made for the past 100 years,” he says.

    Director Sebastian Hofmann
    Director Sebastian Hofmann

    Having won Best Feature for Halley, Hofmann was invited to help curate a selection of films from his home country for this year’s festival. His choice prioritises those directors with a strange and unusual vision. 

    “One of them is called Malaventura by a friend of mine from Mexico City called Michel Lipkes. It’s a very original look at the old part of Mexico City, which is filled with fantastic characters and locations but also quite dangerous. He did this beautiful portrait of an old man in his last days who lives alone there, in down town Mexico City with all the decadence of the city.” 

    Hofmann highlights two directors at the festival whose films represent opposing strands in contemporary Mexican film. Diego Quemada’s The Golden Dream (La Jaula de Oro) concerns immigration and is about three teenagers from Guatemala who decide to flee their lives and head to the United States, passing through Mexico. Fernando Eimbcke’s Club Sándwich, meanwhile, is about puberty and separation anxiety as 15-year-old Héctor discovers love and sex while on holiday with his mum. 

    “Both are completely different filmmakers: one is concerned with the family and family crisis and the other is concerned with social issues and immigration. Mexico is going through really dark times politically and socially. Some explore that, criticising what’s going on using social realism, and other filmmakers have been doing quite the opposite and searching for fantasy or exploring other things. All these original voices are coming out and I think it’s only going to get better.” 

    Hofmann talks of Mexico as a place of contrasts, where thousands of years of human sacrifices gave way after the Spanish conquest to the rituals of Roman Catholicism. “It became this insane spiritual and religious mess and Mexico still hasn’t quite got over it.” Violence, including lynchings and beheadings, are still known to occur in rural areas. “I think there’s never not been beheadings in Mexico,” he says. “Blood is normal here.” 

    Halley, though, is a more personal film (“Politics bores me to hell,” Hofmann admits), though it bears the hallmarks of Mexico through the suffering of its main character, the ‘living corpse’ Alberto. “Alberto is stuck here with his suffering and he’s not going to reach heaven. He’s stuck with this middle ground that’s the physical ground and is the witness of his own decay.”

    The East End Film Festival focuses on the work of first and second time directors. At such an early stage in their careers, each director will in some respect have faced a fight to get their films made. 

    Hofmann was lucky enough to convince a private investor to back the film, as well as the Mexican production company Mantarraya, but once it was shot he had to turn to Europe to attract the necessary funds for post-production. He rebounds, however, my suggestion that Mexican filmmakers might have it harder than their European counterparts. 

    “It’s subjective because my film had special effects and elements that made it a little bit more expensive, even though there’s hardly any dialogue and most of the film is shot inside. But really I think it’s just as hard here as anywhere else. 

    “You can always make a different kind of film just by grabbing a good digital camera with a microphone, asking some friends to help who are good actors, and then make a human story. You know you don’t have to do something far out.”  

    Sebastian Hofmann will be part of a Mexican cinema panel held after a screening of Malaventura at Barbican Cinema on 22 June. 

    www.eastendfilmfestival.com

  • Brazilian songwriter Maria Gadu to perform at the Barbican

    Brazilian songstress Maria Gadu. Photograph: Gabriel Wickbold
    Brazilian songstress Maria Gadu. Photograph: Gabriel Wickbold

    As the sporting masses prepare for the World Cup, there has never been a more fitting time for Brazilian singer-songwriter, guitarist and twice Latin Grammy nominated Maria Gadú to cross the Atlantic in preparation for a highly-anticipated performance at the Barbican this month.

    Celebrating much success in many countries after her self-titled album went platinum in 2009 both in Italy and Brazil, she has since become something of a household name amongst her peers. “Maria Gadú is a popular phenomenon for her own generation,” famed Brazilian composer and songwriter Caetano Veloso has said of her. “[She is] someone with an authentic musical vocation.”

    Singing in her native Brazilian Portuguese, Gadú’s voice is a distinct combination of jazz and soul; a voice that brings an uplifting aura that surrounds lyrics of peace and love. Her impressive guitar technique backs her up with a powerful edge. It’s this vibrancy that makes her stand out from other artists that fall in the ‘world music’ bracket. The sunny track ‘Shimbalaiê’ exudes every bit of this talent.

    At 27, Gadú knows who she is which gives her music a kind of strength that many pop artists struggle with today. Her traditional yet blended style does justice to the original Musica Popular Brasileira movement to which she and the other artists such as Chico Buarque and Jorge Ben are associated. This classic and quintessentially Brazilian genre originated in the 1960s and has become the foundation on which Gadú and other more modern artists such as Maria Monte’s music is formed.

    Whether you enjoy football or not, her performance will certainly be a welcome break from all the hustle and bustle of World Cup fever.

    Maria Gadú is playing at the Barbican, Silk Street, EC2Y 8DS on 28 June.

    tickets@barbican.org.uk

  • The history of Club Row live animal market

    Puppies for sale at Dog Market, Club Row
    Puppies for sale at Dog Market, Club Row

    Choosing a dog is no easy task. The cuteness of a terrier, or the leanness of a whippet? The stature of a labrador or the Englishness of a bulldog?  

    In most cases the pet shop owner will run you through the pros and cons, the pedigree and the breed. But at the Club Row Animal Market – just north of Bethnal Green Road – you would have simply been fed what you wanted to hear.

    Kaye Webb provides a vivid account of the trading techniques in her 1953 book Looking at London and People Worth Meeting.  

    “ ‘Hi, mate, buy a dog to keep you warm!’ said the man with the Chows to a pair of shivering Lascar seamen. ‘E’s worth double, lady, but I want ‘im to ‘ave a good ‘ome’ or ‘Here’s a good dog, born between the sheets, got his pedigree in my pocket!’ ‘Who’d care for a German sausage? – stretch him to make up the rations,’ the salesman with the dachshund said.”

    Club Row Market was London’s one and only live animal market. Dogs, cats, birds, chickens, snakes, gerbils, guinea pigs – even monkeys and lion cubs could be found there.  Imagine that – lion cubs for sale on the streets of Shoreditch.

    From its humble beginnings as a place where farmers could trade outside the city walls, Club Row market spread down Sclater Street and initially developed into a bird market.  This was a legacy of the French Huguenots who immigrated to the area after the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685 and had the custom of keeping canaries and various singing birds.   

    Writing in the early 20th Century, George R. Sims described the market as follows: “On Sunday nothing but bird-cages are to be seen from roofs to pavement in almost every house. At first you see nothing but the avenue of bird-cages. The crowd in the narrow street is so dense that you can gather no idea of what is in the shop-windows or what the mob of men crowding together in black patches of humanity are dealing in.”

    And the market wasn’t restricted to the street either. “It was an extraordinary sight, this marvellous old pub full of stacked up cages of exotic screeching birds” comments Derek Brown on the Spitalfields Life blog. The pub in question was the Knave of Clubs – now an upmarket restaurant called Les Trois Garçons where the “wildlife is taxidermy”. 

    As time progressed dogs and other animals were eventually sold alongside the caged birds. By the 1960s “a cacophony of whimpers, yaps, yelps, and just plain barking guides you to the spot where Bethnal Green Road branches off to Sclater Street,” Webb writes.

    The RSPCA and other animal rights groups eventually succeeded in shutting the market down, and judging by most accounts this was fully justified.  There is no shortage of stories about boot polish being used to mask sores and entire litters of puppies sold for medical research.  

    Far from defending the traders or seeking to rationalise animal cruelty, there is – however –  no denying that the market must have been quite a sight: a street theatre for East End traders which knew no limits.

    Street trading is still alive and well in the streets of Spitalfields with Club Row’s animals making way for Brick Lane’s antiques and toiletries, bikes and records. Virtually everything imaginable is on offer now – except animals that is. 

    When the government introduced a law in 1983 outlawing the street sale of live animals, centuries of East End tradition were brought to a close. London lost its only live animal market, and is unlikely to ever see another one. 

    A stroll down Club Row and Sclater Street today is a very different experience to what it was just twenty years ago. Former bomb sites where the market used to spread have now been developed and Shoreditch’s first skyscraper now reigns supreme. As for dogs – well, why keep a dog in Shoreditch anyway?

    @raisimpson

  • How a video camera became a weapon for feminists

    Jane Fonda in a still taken from Cherchez la femme exhibition at Space Studios
    Jane Fonda in a still from the Cherchez La Femme exhibition at Space Studios

    In late November 1967, the newly-named Sony Corporation –  a young, but blossoming Japanese electronics company –  released the Portapak CV-2400, the world’s first consumer videotape recorder. Battery-powered, portable, and inexpensive: no longer was video the preserve of elite television companies and their hegemonic value systems.

    As the Portapak’s poetic manual put it: “The portable video system represents the essence of decentralised media. One person now becomes an entire TV studio, capable of producing a powerful statement.”

    Though Sony’s advertising campaigns for the Portapak depicted the video camera being used by all echelons of society, according to Alaina Claire Feldman, head of exhibitions for Independent Curators International, it became a potent weapon for French feminist collectives during the 1970s. Activist groups like Vidéa and Insoumuses documented wild demonstrations along the boulevards of Paris and radical manifestos against male power.

    Feldman, the organiser of a new exhibition at Hackney’s SPACE studios, which is screening a number of these engrossing, politicised videos, explains: “The Portapak offered an opportunity for documentation of what was happening in the streets, in the factories, in private libraries and conversations, but also for creative critique of the moving image itself.”

    “The portable video came exactly at the right moment: the start of the women’s liberation movement in France, hot on the heels of May ‘68,” she continued. “It was also totally unexpected that women would embrace technology at the time, and because video was so new, it had no history or canon to struggle with; it was entirely open.”

    The name of the exhibition, ‘Cherchez La Femme’, is a reappropriated French colloquialism that traditionally suggests the root of all problems is women. It is this sort of institutional misogyny that these recently-translated feminist films were, and still are, railing against.

    Maso and Miso Go Boating (1976), for example, is a scathing meditation on the rigid roles that women are permitted in public life. After recording footage of a French television talk show, Delphine Seyrig, along with three other women, eviscerate the shocking statements made by Françoise Giroud, supposedly the country’s Minister for Women’s well being. They edit, freeze-frame, superimpose, and add hand-written titles to Giroud’s various patronising claims: that surgery is too difficult for women, or how women’s ambitions should never go beyond pleasing their man.

    The videos show both the dynamic potential in, and the collective creation of the films, mirroring how the feminist movement actually functioned. In Kate Millet Speaks about Prostitution with Feminists (1975), we see this reality: sat crosslegged on the floor, in a room with bookshelves filled to the brim, French and American feminists passionately debate the plight of the prostitutes, while ceaselessly puffing away on their Gauloises. Innovations in technology can often lead to societal change, and the Sony Portapak was no exception. The dissemination of low-budget and lo-fi work like this forged networks of exchange, catalysed strains of guerilla television, and allowed self-representation for many women. Whether these feminist collective’s goals have been achieved is still far from certain, but Feldman has “hope there’s some consequences that eventually come out of it” for the residents of Hackney that get to see them.

    Cherchez La Femme is at SPACE Studios, 129—131 Mare Street, E8 3RH until 13 July.

  • David Bailey: For Real review – ‘A palimpsest of post-war London life’

    David Bailey 620
    Photograph by David Bailey courtesy of Daniel Blau Munich/London

    You can take David Bailey out of the East End, but you can’t take the East End out of David Bailey: in this new exhibition, even his portraits of elder Delhi men evoke the moustachioed hipsters of Kingsland Road.

    Bailey: For Real at Daniel Blau London, one of three Bailey shows held internationally by the gallery in 2014, focuses on the more gritty, yet intimate aspects of his oeuvre: more like a carpenter’s sawdust than his recent glamorous National Portrait Gallery retrospective Stardust. “The East End personifies London for me –  or, it did –  because it was where I was brought up,” he once told the BBC. “I like change; I like the way it morphs into something else.”

    Best known for his 1960s fashion photography, Bailey was born in Leytonstone in January 1938, into a rag-tag trade: the son of a tailor. His mother was born in Bow, his father in Hackney, his grandfather in Bethnal Green, and his genealogy from there –  as far as records go –  traces to Whitechapel. So, although his blossoming career took him around the globe, Bailey made frequent trips back to the East End.

    The prints on show are certainly not an exclusive coup: Mick Jagger and his chiselled cheekbones make an appearance, alongside several portraits of Bailey’s famous friends, but we’ve seen it all before, and quite recently. What the exhibition does offer is a morphed, oblique perspective both on individual images, and the photographer’s work as a whole. Everything on show is presented on torn, imperfect pieces of glossy fibre photographic paper: each is uniquely frayed and shredded by Bailey’s own hands. It renders not only the tactile process of image-making more personal, but also cuts much of the familiar images we know: zooming in closely, it increases the proximity to and intensity of the subjects.

    Bethnal Green (1961) depicts a young boy almost buckling under the weight of a crate of Charrington beer from the local brewery. East End (1961) is a complex shot of a pub window; an attractive barmaid pulls a pint, while lines of acid-etched words in the window contrast with an advertising hoarding message in the reflection. One image portrays a tattoo of the Kray twins – the notorious East London gangsters that befriended Bailey –  itself based on an iconic portrait he once took of them. The exhibition also shows a bleak side of the capital’s east here. Children explore amongst masses of sacks strewn chaotically in one photograph, while another shows a dilapidated, ramshackle building on Viaduct Street, just a stone’s throw away from where Bethnal Green tube now is. Bailey himself was blown out of his home by the Luftwaffe.

    These grainy rolls of aged black-and-white celluloid are reminiscent of George Brassai’s candid street photography in Paris. They are very much like relics, shown here in mounted boxes rather than frames, and are a palimpsest of post-war London life, as well as a few ventures abroad. However, while they do provide an interesting angle on Bailey’s work, the exhibition –  in a year that has comprehensively surveyed the photographer –  is relatively lightweight.

    Bailey: For Real is at Daniel Blau Gallery, 51 Hoxton Square, N1 6PB until 28 June.