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  • Xiaolu Guo’s journey from the Far East to East End

    Xiaolu Guo 620
    Author: Xiaolu Guo

    Successful authors who write in a second language are a rare breed.

    Beckett, Conrad and Nabokov most famously did it, but to name someone writing in English whose first language is Chinese is no easy proposition.

    Xiaolu Guo, however, belongs to this select group. Furthermore, the 40-year-old, who in 2013 was named one of Granta’s Best Young British Novelists (former nominees include Salman Rushdie, Jeanette Winterson and Zadie Smith) lives and works in East London.

    Brought up in a south Chinese fishing village, Guo showed artistic promise from a young age. She studied film in Beijing before moving to London in 2002 to take up a fellowship at the National Film School. She is a prolific filmmaker and novelist with ten books to her name – five of them written after arriving in the UK.

    Her first novel in English, A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary for Lovers, was published in 2007. It is the story of a young Chinese woman sent by her parents to study English in London, structured in dictionary form and written in a broken English that improves alongside the narrator’s own grasp of the language.

    It won her plaudits, including an Orange Prize-nomination, and Guo has continued experimenting with narrative in her latest novel I am China, a tale of love, exile, art and politics, set over three continents and written in epistolary form.

    “I think literature should be an intellectual exercise for readers, not only for the writers, and this habit has been lost in this country and in the Anglo-Saxon world really,” she tells me bluntly over coffee.

    I am China is told through the perspective of a young translator, Iona Fitzpatrick, living in London, who is given a bunch of letters and diary entries by a publisher and few clues as to what they’re about. What follows is a detective narrative in epistolary form – not dissimilar to AS Byatt’s Possession in this respect – in which she pieces together a 20-year love story between exiled Chinese punk and Tiananmen protester Kublai Jian, and his lover Deng Mu.

    If the idea of Chinese punk seems far-fetched, that’s because it is – China has never had its own punk culture. But Guo listened to The Sex Pistols and found the genuine anger in their music, reminiscent of the students’ pro-democracy protests in 1989.

    She created Jian, her own Chinese punk (based on a real person) and wrote a short story in which he confronted Johnny Rotten and asked him whether punk is a positive or distractive force.

    “The Chinese punk asks why Western punk music always creates diarrhoea. If you’re so angry why not construct a better society? And Johnny Rotten says ‘No, punk is about diarrhoea so you can let out all the capitalistic bullshit out your arse’.”

    The unpublished story grew into I am China, and became part of the novel’s wider discourse on the role of the artist.

    Guo calls I am China an autobiographical novel, with Jian and Muo representing two contrasting ideas about the world. Jian is an “ideological being”, prepared to go into exile after handing out copies of his ‘manifesto’ at a gig, while Mu lives beyond ideological struggle.

    “Jian is very much like how I was, a very angry rock ‘n’ roll youth who believed all art is political and there’s no art that can really live beyond the political sphere and that even being apolitical is a political gesture. I was very much like that, and that’s what drove me all the way from China to here.”

    ‘Freedom’ in the West is something both Guo and Jian in the book hoped to find. But for Jian, leaving China brings him to detention centres in Dover and Switzerland. Similarly, Guo says she is now less naïve than when she first left China.

    “Western democracy actually has a certain totalitarian character, because if you’re not inside this system you can never participate in democracy, you have no voice anyway,” she says.

    Living with her partner and young child in Hackney, Guo has forged a life for herself and no longer feels like the ‘angry teenager’, aligning herself more with her lover character, Miu.

    “This lover is saying that life is so much bigger, and this universe is so much bigger,” Guo says. “Because if you read Zen Buddhism you will laugh at Communism and if you know George Orwell’s 1984 you’ll know what a little awful crazy nasty political game man has created. I mean, we’re just advanced monkeys.”

    Guo claims not to care as much now about politics or even the arts. But despite this, there’s something of the punk about her that refuses to mellow.

    “I come across as this woman who comes from this far away China and lives in the West. That’s not me,” she snaps, when I ask her about her life in China. “Who is me is a novelist and filmmaker who communicates my story and my vision through a narrative. So ‘me’ doesn’t exist in a way. My little trivial reality is not interesting, it’s not like I’m Andy Warhol.”

    When her character Kublai Jian comes to Britain and is detained, he becomes “stateless”. I wonder if, as an artist on foreign soil, she feels stateless too; neither fully British but long past the point of no return.

    “I’m not really attracted to Hackney at all,” Guo admits. “If I could I’d live on a tropical island in the southern hemisphere.

    “My journey’s really more like an intellectual journey, I’m not really into making a life in the West. I don’t care if I make a living in China or New York or Hackney or Hamburg. Basically I want to create art and write novels.”

    I am China is published by Chatto & Windus. RRP: £14.99. ISBN: 9780701188191

  • Album review: Zygmunt Day and Echo Pressure – On Streets That Know

    True troubadour: Zygmunt Day
    True troubadour: Zygmunt Day

    The starting point for Zygmunt Day’s debut full-length record On Streets That Know was his decision to cover Ewan MacColl’s ‘Dirty Old Town’, and the album extrapolates from this the idea that behind a less than appealing exterior lies a place with strong emotional bonds.

    By exploring the experience of East London in terms of work and struggle, Day paints a picture by recalling scenes that are mostly melancholic but shrouded in a subtle sense of fondness for the location that inspired these songs.

    Two years in the making, this record was written by Day and arranged with his band Echo Pressure. Clocking in at just under an hour, the eclectic instrumentation of folk-tinged pop songs makes for an intriguing listen.

    On track ‘Hailstones’, a bleak picture of life recalling “streets of metal, streets of rain” is juxtaposed with a lively sonic backdrop; the song starting with gently fingerpicked guitar before melding into a three-minute funky disco coda which declines into a dissonant swell of brass and woodwind.

    Elsewhere, on opening track ‘Everyone I Know’, the harmonies feel at times baggy as Day recites the mantra “still they try, still they try” against indie-pop guitar stabs. Despite the largely consistent vocal delivery, there are times where cracks begin to appear.

    Echo Pressure turn the tales recalled on their head. There is a great of sense of optimism conveyed by the arrangements, bouncy bass lines and innovative instrumentation – all of which prevent this record from becoming a one dimensional attack on modern life.

    Together the ten-strong group – most of them multi-instrumentalists – make great use of a variety of different timbres that weave in and out of each track, reimagining Day’s grey picture of England in glorious technicolor.

    The album’s spoken-word closing number recalls a tale that will resonate with many East London residents, with Day wishing he “had the tools to make it here”, as well as referencing scenes along the River Lea (“skeleton of the gasworks down by the canal”).

    Rooted in folk, the poetic landscape of Day’s East London environment, told with the help of Echo Pressure, results in an engaging take on the romanticism of decay and struggle, and with a sonic texture that guides the interpretation of the songs throughout.

    www.soundcloud.com/zygmunt-day

  • Restaurant review: DF Mexico

    DF Mexico
    Joys of Mex: DF Mexico

    If, like me, the promise of ‘bottomless soda refills’, frozen margaritas on tap and burritos the size of your face has you reaching for your Oyster card and checking the elastic of your waistband, DF Mexico might be the place for you.

    Launched by the team behind Wahaca, this is nothing like Wahaca. Instead of trying to synthesise street food in a restaurant, which can inevitably miss the mark, this place is a very happy marriage of American diner fare and traditional Mexican food.

    Named after Districto Federal, or Mexico City as it’s known to outsiders, the idea was born on a road trip that Thomasina Miers and Mark Selby, founders of the Wahaca empire, took around Mexico and the US. And it really works.

    There are tortas – gorgeous great burger-style stacks filled with pork pibil, chile beef or ancho mushrooms and jammed with cucumber pickle, pumpkin seed mayonnaise and avocado.

    There’s soft-whip ice cream in flavours like dulce de leche with peanut butter brittle smashed on top that may or not make you salivate even as you type the words 24 hours later. There’s even passionfruit flavour with popping candy on top.

    Highlights include the fish tacos – a nightmare to negotiate from plate to face, but a dream to eat: fat ingots of crumbed cod (sustainably sourced) with a zippy red slaw and sweet chipotle mayonnaise zigzagged on top. If I’m not still wearing that dish somewhere on my person I’d be surprised.

    Another surprise might be that one of the best things we ate was the ‘cup of corn’ – labelled with a modesty that belies its utter perfection: a little pot of delicately-seasoned chowder with translucent little cubes of sweetcorn and a scoop of something that tastes like quesa fresco, but is actually a mixture of Lancashire cheese and mayonnaise.

    I loved the huge glass coolers of icy margarita and hibiscus-flavoured agua fresca swirling mesmerisingly above the tables. I loved the textures and flavours of food that tasted like it had been left to luxuriate on a stove for hours. I loved the super-sized, money’s-worth feeling of the diner experience.

    Tucked into the Old Truman Brewery, there’s a nod to its surroundings too, with the bar stocking local brew and ales from Brixton and Gipsy Hill, as well as Mexican brands like Pacifico.

    Another place looking to buck the dizzying merry-go-round of week-only pop-ups, DF Mexico has an 18-month residency here. It’s fun, the people are lovely and the food is great, but not pricey. Definitely worth a visit.

    DF Mexico, Old Truman Brewery, Hanbury Street, E1 6QR
    www.dfmexico.co.uk

  • Restaurant review: Oui Madame

    Oui Madame 620
    French and fancy: Oui Madame

    No need to consider taking the Eurostar any longer to go to a bistro-type restaurant in Paris. There is one right up your street, though it took me a year to find it!

    Located at the crossroads of bohemian Stokey and hipster Dalston, Oui Madame is owned by Jérôme Pigeon and Rosane Mazzer, the once married Franco-Brazilian couple who founded the Favela Chic restaurants in Paris and London.

    On arrival, we found our bearings with a couple of Oui Madame Cocktails, made from gin, elderflower, lemon, grenadine and raspberries. To complement the creamy texture and frothy top (the result of the egg white) Pigeon sprayed them with absinthe using a vintage bulb spray bottle. They smelt a treat and had a really nice kick to them.

    The steak tartare we had for starters was a cute-looking dish, displayed as four raw canapés on a plate. We indulged ourselves with the four corresponding eggs yolk, but were disappointed by the foie gras which looked and tasted more like a terrine.

    Being meat lovers, we both had the steak cooked medium rare to perfection. It came with a gratin dauphinois, which for me was lack-lustre (I am a fierce critic of the dauphinois since no one could possibly beat my mum’s recipe!) though my dining partner had no qualms with it.

    Other than food, art is what brought Pigeon and Mazzer to Hackney. The restaurant hosts live performances in basement space ‘La Culotte’ (‘The Knickers’) on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays.

    It’s a chilled atmosphere in the restaurant before 9pm and fairly revelrous afterwards. With artists and performers invited to test their shows in front of an audience, I for one can’t wait to enjoy some of the fun and unique nights to come… oh que oui!

    Oui Madame, 182 Stoke Newington Road, N16 7UY
    www.oui-madame.co.uk

  • Book review: Boxer Handsome – ‘somewhere between soap opera and classical tragedy’

    Anna Whitwham by Nick Tucker
    Punchy prose: author Anna Whitwham. Photograph: Nick Tucker

    Anna Whitwham’s debut is vivid and – in a literal sense – punchy. It opens on a canal-side brawl over a girl. From there, we follow Clapton fighter Bobby as he tries to find his way to boxing triumph and love in the macho, clannish East End.

    His nemesis both in the ring and on the towpath is Connor, the brutish scion of a gang of Irish travellers – “their lot”. Bobby, styled early as “the Jew” to Connor’s “Gypo”, is the handsome son of a wilted local boxing hero. Theresa – sex, nails and hair extensions – is the girl behind the opening skirmish. She wants Bobby but is intended for Connor. The estate they live on is a “goldfish bowl” of petty politicking and gossip. Enter demure, graceful Chloe: more than a love interest, she is a glimpse of an alternative future for Bobby. Meantime, the big fight – Bobby v. Connor – approaches.

    The book is vivid; it isn’t subtle. The violence is graphic, the sex is bare and anatomical. The men are visceral, hot-headed, heavy-fisted – or, like Bobby’s dad, Joe, the spent obverse: decrepit, ridiculous. The women are measured in units of prettiness, tinyness, comfort and passivity. In fact, all the characters are more or less familiar by type, set into a familiar, antagonistic tribal map structured on blood ties and hand-me-down feuds.

    In this, the book sits somewhere between soap opera and classical tragedy: two households, both alike in repetitive indignity. This mood is reinforced by a slightly overwrought, pervasive prophetic sense. The book opens, “Bobby knew that he would win,” and builds thickly on foresight and fate. “I don’t want to speed it up…what’s going to happen to me,” says Theresa.

    Indeed, crucial to the story is Bobby’s struggle against the power of blood and history to animate him like a puppet. In this “goldfish bowl” characters are largely resigned to swim round in circles, generation after generation. For Bobby, boxing victory and Chloe seem like twin glimmers of an escape route from this often extremely vicious cycle.

    Unfortunately, I found that the plodding sense of destiny and the familiar landscape of characters and feuding families combined to glaze the story in a gently anaesthetic predictability. This rather attenuated my curiosity as the story rose to crisis.

    Still, if the characters draw on standard stock, they are mostly drawn with an appealingly bold hand. Bobby’s emotional awkwardness and frustration, Theresa’s front of toughness, are well observed. Joe is pathetic, but lucidly realised and sympathetic, too.

    Whitwham’s writing is expressive: she works in a spartan, specific lexicon and short sentences which set the narrative to the tense rhythm of a prizefight. Sometimes, a more generous descriptive tone emerges, for instance, to paint the canal – “the black ribbon that tied everyone together” – beautifully, as “black and secret. Hushed, peculiar.”

    Whitwham’s affectionate depiction of the boxing scene as manly in a tough, fair, paternal way – a shot at redemption for the bullied and the brawlers – is authentic and convincing. And, despite the shadow of austerity Britain’s indolent youth, this setting – boxing club, tethered tinker ponies, men with greased hair and market gold weighing down their wrists – is often mistakable for the East End of Whitwham’s grandfather, the Hoxton boxer who inspired the novel.

    Whitwham has been criticised for this, but I enjoyed it. A slippery sort of modernity make this East End world feel a little more eternal, which fits the mythic-tragic mood and the building sense of the goldfish bowl as a difficult thing to climb out of.

    Boxer Handsome by Anna Whitwham is published by Chatto & Windus. RRP: £12.99, ISBN: 9780701188306.

  • From Anatolia to Kingsland Road: Turkish cooking for the soul

    Gillian Riley cooking Turkish Food, August 25, 2014.
    Stuffed peppers lovingly cooked by Gillian Riley. Photograph: Eleonore de Bonneval

    When Hackney citizens were living in mud huts and chomping on boiled roots from the marshes, the inhabitants of the city of Konya in Anatolia were robed in silk and feasting on spicy stews and sophisticated roasts.

    And now, centuries later, they have come to our rescue, bringing the best of Turkish cuisine to the Kingsland Road, with produce, restaurants and kebab shops.

    We could thank Mevlana, also known as the mystic poet Rumi, for this. He came from Persia and settled in Konya in the thirteenth century, where he established the Sufic version of Islam, a gentle religion — tolerant, all encompassing, generous. Cooking and the preparation of food was vital to his faith; the process was both a practical reality and a metaphor for the way God works on the human soul.

    “I was raw; I was cooked; I was burnt…” he wrote. The transformative effect of fire was a way of getting close to God. You can cook meat before a fire, or over charcoal, but the browning effect as it burns releases flavours and aromas that were not there before. (Mevlana intuitively grasped the Maillard Effect long before scientists came to analyse it). And so the actions and disciplines of cooking and serving food were those of a religious apprenticeship, the intensity of flavour in a carefully crafted roast resembled the soul’s ecstasy in communion with God; and Mevlana used metaphors from everyday life to explain this – chickpeas bouncing joyfully in a pot of boiling water were like souls in ecstasy; “Think of me as spinach and prepare me as you will; sour or sweet, cooked means reunion with you.”

    Mevlana set up kitchens in his headquarters in Konya, where acolytes had a long and vigorous training, forty days of abstinence and observation in the kitchen, followed by 1001 days of practical work. His chief cook, Ates-Bazi Veli, was buried in a tomb next to his own. Today the best cooks in Turkey are trained in Konya, and we could today be enjoying their skills in Dalston, where some of the finest Turkish food in London is to be had.

    There were two traditions in Turkish gastronomy, the sophisticated courtly cuisine of Byzantium and Persia, created by chefs in Istanbul and Konya for the ruling classes, heavy with meat and spices, and the peasant cookery of the countryside, a lush and delicious subsistence level way of eating, based on vegetables and pulses, simply prepared. Mevlana’s kitchens made use of both, and so can we in Hackney.

    We can’t compete with good Turkish meat cooks, we don’t have the skills or the equipment, but we can follow their rich and imaginative vegetable recipes. On a dank, wet August Bank Holiday Monday we might be wise to forget our own primitive barbies, and try some simple stuffed or stewed vegetables. Turkish stores all over Hackney have a wonderful range of fresh produce to experiment with.

    Stuffed Peppers

    It’s hard to give exact quantities. Much depends on the size of the peppers. Mevlana would not of course have known them in 13th century Konya, or tomatoes, for they came from South America centuries later, but they are now familiar crops in Turkey. A mixture of pekmez (reduced grape must) and lemon juice gave the acidic fruitiness we get now from tomatoes.

    For 4 medium sized peppers, red or green, you’ll need:

    150 g minced beef or lamb
    1 cup of long-grain rice
    2 cups meat or chicken stock
    2 fat cloves of garlic, chopped
    1 medium onion, chopped
    cardamom, aniseed, cinnamon, black peppercorns, freshly ground
    (powdered spices loose their aroma so fast!)
    1 handful of parsley, chopped
    1 dessertspoon tomato puree
    1 dessertspoon pine nuts, lightly toasted

    Wash and dry the peppers and cut off their stalk ends to make little caps. Get rid of the inner core and any seeds. Fry the meat in olive oil along with the garlic and onion, tip in the rice and stir well, add the spices to taste and then the stock (or water will do) and tomato puree. Cook for 10 minutes or until most of the liquid is absorbed. Mix in the pine nuts and parsley and stuff the peppers, closing each one with its cap. Cook in a hot to moderate oven for an hour or so, this is a good-tempered dish where oven heat and timing can vary.

    Stewed Aubergines

    2 medium sized aubergines, cut into 2 cm chunks
    2 cloves of garlic, chopped
    1 large tomato, chopped
    1 medium onion, chopped
    1 dessertspoon pine kernels, lightly toasted
    chopped parsley

    Sprinkle the aubergine chunks liberally with salt and let them drain in a colander for an hour, then rinse well and squeeze out the water and bitter juices in a coarse cloth or sieve. Fry rapidly in olive oil with the garlic and onion, and when cooked through add the tomatoes and cook down quickly. Cool down to room temperature and serve strewn with the pine nuts and parsley.

    When Kemal Atatürk dragged the crumbling Ottoman Empire kicking and screaming into the modern world he established a democratic secular republic with equal rights for women, universal education and religious tolerance. But there were casualties. The whirling Dervish sect of Mevlana was banned, the Arabic script was abolished, minority views had a hard time. Decades ago I was present at a moving ceremony in Konya in which the newly re-instated Dervishes performed their trance-like ceremony, not so much whirling as slowly gyrating in a deep silence, movement with meaning, a celebration of Mevlana’s cherished beliefs and rituals.

    The critical role of Turkey in today’s current international crisis is a reminder of how here in Hackney we can practise the gifts of tolerance, kindness, generosity and compassion through sharing food, eating together, bringing understanding and humanity to a mixed community. Stuffed peppers and charred kebabs can be the building blocks of harmony. Enjoy.

  • Book review: Thirst by Kerry Hudson

    Kerry Hudson by Eleonore de Bonneval
    Kerry Hudson by Eleonore de Bonneval

    The idea of a novel exploring the relationship between a trafficked Russian sex-worker and a gentle young security guard who catches her shoplifting sounds risky. It’s the kind of glittery rescue narrative that if poorly handled could make for a fairly unpalatable read.

    But from the deft fingertips of Kerry Hudson, author of the award-winning Tony Hogan Bought Me an Ice-cream Float Before He Stole My Ma, comes a second novel so sweetly pitched and dexterously structured that any such concerns seem, in retrospect, completely absurd.

    Hudson knits together the disparate lives of Alena and Dave, a troubled couple who find commonality in their gut-wrenching loneliness. Both dealing with dark and twisted pasts, they enjoy comfort in one another’s tentative company – almost as if working the other out provides a moment’s relief from their respective realities. It’s a relationship hanging on tenterhooks.

    Lured to England by her mother’s oldest friend, Alena is fast submerged in a thickly veiled London underworld, where she’s forced into a brutal pattern of rape, threats and violence. Hudson writes her backstory with unflinching detail, layering her sparky central character in folds of horrifying experience. The scenarios are unnervingly believable and thus all the more difficult to stomach.

    Dave’s story, on the other hand, seems a nip less devastating. Having moved above a Hackney Kebab shop after life on a Roehampton estate comes to a difficult end, his is an existence of dull routine and pipe dreams of escape. He’s kind, handsome and would do anything for the lost, vulnerable girl he’s come to share his bed with. Though, always assuring himself of his own good nature, there are surprises in store.

    In contrast with the heavy subject matter, the prose is clean and delicate – elevated by the author’s acute observations of the nuances in everyday city-life. Of an afternoon in the Dalston flat that Dave and Alena inhabit, she writes: “The windows were all open, letting in a soup of early-evening Hackney air: dirty pavement, exhaust fumes, kebab meat.” It’s real and romantically grim.

    Thirst is an accomplished, if grey, portrait of two characters who might be anyone walking past on the street, sharing a quiet drink in the pub, or hiding in the corner of a gallery cafe. With uncompromising concern for literature’s underexplored people, Hudson’s work is an education. It’s quaint, multi-dimensional and damn tough to swallow. Don’t miss a word she writes.

    Thirst is published by Chatto & Windus. RRP: £12.99. ISBN: 9780701188689

  • Bells still tolling at Whitechapel foundry

    Whitechapel Bell Foundry
    Alive and bell: inside the Whitechapel Bell Foundry. Photograph: Richard Simpson

    The Whitechapel Road originated as a Roman highway – a direct route from the City of London to Colchester. As centuries have come and gone the road has now completely changed, but for more than 400 years now there has been one constant: the Whitechapel Bell Foundry.

    Established in 1570 during the reign of Elizabeth I, the elegant wooden Georgian facade of the grade II listed Whitechapel Bell Foundry still graces the busy thoroughfare. Most importantly, the facade in question belongs to the UK’s oldest manufacturing company. To this day bells tolling across the world are being cast in Whitechapel.

    The entrance brings you into a heavily decorated reception room full of old photographs and memorabilia – some highlighting royal visits, others commemorating specific anniversaries. The unbroken line of master bell founders stretching back to 1420 is also proudly exhibited, as is the wooden template used when manufacturing Big Ben.

    There is no doubt the factory’s main claim to fame is the production of the almighty 13.5 ton Big Ben in 1858 (Big Ben is, of course, the name of the bell – not the tower). But the roll-call extends much further than that.

    The Liberty Bell (symbol of American freedom), the Bells of St Clement Danes (of ‘Oranges & Lemons’ nursery rhyme fame), Bow Bells (which chime from the belfry of Saint Mary-le-Bow on Cheapside in the City rather than from Bow Church, as is commonly assumed) were all cast there as well. As were the clock bell at St Paul’s Cathedral, the octave at Winchester Cathedral, the hour bell at Canterbury Cathedral, the Great Bell of Montreal, the Bicentennial Bell…

    Moving on into the back room a short video can be watched explaining the manufacturing of a bell from beginning to end. The process is complex, but it interesting to note that despite technological progress, the fundamentals of bell founding remain the same as they were in medieval times: molten metal is poured in to a bell-shaped mould, which is then opened once the metal has cooled. The fine-tuning which follows has evolved, but the basics remain unchanged.

    Adjacent to this room is an outdoor courtyard with bells scattered across it. At the far end the lead water tank dating back to the building’s days as the Artichoke Inn still stands. I am informed that some of the bells out there are destined for Brazilian and American shores.

    On a hot summer day the shutter doors on Plumbers Row are sometimes opened and offer a glimpse into a world which is very different to what many of us have grown accustomed to. Here you might find master founders Alan and Kathryn Hughes (whose family have been founding bells in East London since 1884) and members of their team hard at work casting glistening bells in what is otherwise a dreary workshop. Rows of variously-sized bells line the floor – church bells, hand bells, ship bells, level crossing warning bells – and are surrounded by all the machines required for tuning, moulding, drilling, skirting, testing, fitting and fashioning. It’s quite a site.

    Meanwhile, just down the street in the City of London, thousands are crunching numbers, analyzing spreadsheets, and typing away on their computers. The contrast between the rustic workshop and the shiny glass towers could hardly be more pronounced.

    It is remarkable to think that across the street from HSBC bank, a few doors down from the Rhythm Factory music venue and the Tesco supermarket, there remains a factory of such historical significance that has been specialising in such a unique craft for over four centuries.

    “Our business runs counter to the national economy” Alan Hughes explained to the Gentle Author blog. The reason for this, he says, is that “bell projects take a long time, so churches commit to new bells when the economy is strong and then there is no turning back.”

    Apparently it takes at least 10 years between order and delivery. This has consequently enabled the foundry to have a continuous work flow throughout the good times and the bad.

    Whitechapel Road has changed time and again, and the upcoming opening of the new Crossrail station is likely to ensure that another wave of change sweeps through the area. It’s safe to say, however, that the Whitechapel Bell Foundry can probably handle whatever comes its way, just as its bells have done year after year.

    www.whitechapelbellfoundry.co.uk

  • How has life in cities changed?

    Details from 'Car Park' by Jock McFadyen
    Detail from ‘Car Park’ by Jock McFadyen

    One hundred years ago only two in ten people lived in cities, but migration has recently nudged the global urban population above 50 per cent for the first time.

    As more and more people come to the city, art increasingly reflects an existence that revolves around the move to, life in and development of urban centres. And a new exhibition of painting at Lion and Lamb Gallery in Hoxton reflects this sea change in how life is lived around the world.

    In the City, curated and organised by Trevor Burgess, presents the work of nine international artists and their unique perspectives on life in the city landscape. The exhibition opens this month and runs until 11 October.

    The work on display ranges from figurative representations of contemporary London in the paintings of Lee Maelzer and exhibition curator Trevor Burgess, alongside the more symbolic London canvases of Steven Carter.

    Whilst several of the artists engage with London, the strong colours and atmospheric representation of South American subjects in the work of Aida Rubio Gonzales remind us of the wealth of urban realities beyond our city.

    Paintings inspired by New Delhi by Tamnoy Samanta offer an abstract interpretation of the new mega-cities sprawling over India, and other work engages with New York, Dhaka, Toronto and Edinburgh, emphasising the international outlook of the exhibition.

    When seen alongside each other, the artworks reflect the fragmentary nature of the modern urban landscape – sharp corners against amorphous shapes, hard lines and murky backgrounds. Burgess has brought together a varied line up of works that reflects the breadth of urban expression in contemporary painting, and challenges any perception that it is an ill-equipped medium to represent the modern world.

    In the City is at the Lion and Lamb Gallery, 46 Fanshaw Street, Hoxton, N1 6LG from 20 September – 11 October

    www.lionandlambgallery.com

  • Rudy’s Rare Records is ‘black High Fidelity’, says show’s creator

    Lt-Rt: Joseph Roberts (Musical Director), Joivan Wade (Richie), Lenny Henry (Adam), Danny Robins (Writer), Libby Watson (Designer) and Paulette Randall (Director), Press Launch Monday 23 June 2014 for Rudy's Rare Records by Danny Robins, produced by Hackney Empire and Birmingham Repertory Theatre, Directed by Paulette Randall,  W
    Left to right: Joseph Roberts (Musical Director), Joivan Wade (Richie), Lenny Henry (Adam), Danny Robins (Writer), Libby Watson (Designer) and Paulette Randall (Director) at Hackney Empire

    Comedian Lenny Henry will this month be giving Hackney Empire audiences some comic relief when he stars in Rudy’s Rare Records, a Radio 4 series adapted for stage.

    The play is a comedy set in an old reggae record shop in Birmingham and features three generations of a British Jamaican family who are constantly at loggerheads.

    A live band will perform a soundtrack of classic reggae while shop owner Rudy Sharpe (Larrington Walker) and his son Adam, played by Henry, try to stop developers from flattening the shop and building a supermarket in its place.

    Lenny Henry conceived of Rudy’s Rare Records, which first aired in 2008, as a “black High Fidelity”, says Danny Robins, the show’s writer and co-creator.

    “It’s inspired by people he’d known and the record shops he’d hung out in as a kid,” he says. “I’d spent most of my mis-spent youth in record shops as well and the idea instantly clicked for me.”

    Robins does not have a Jamaican background, but being surrounded by members of the cast has given him huge insight into the country’s slang and heritage.

    “You do your research and I’ve been out to Jamaica, but just sitting around in rehearsals hearing the guys talk about their childhood is something that gives me loads of ideas.

    “In rehearsals the guys might say that’s not quite the right idiom or it’s not the right kind of slang, and the director [Paulette Randall] has this incredible encyclopedia of slang from her mother. Patois is an incredibly inventive language.”

    After four series of Rudy’s Rare Records, Robins and Henry tried to get a pilot episode commissioned for television. When that looked unlikely, they approached Susie McKenna, artistic director of Hackney Empire, about a stage version.

    “She was just instantly very enthusiastic about it and wanted to make it happen,” recalls Robins.

    But while writing the play, television executives decided to commission the pilot after all, which is due to be broadcast early next year on BBC1. It leaves Robins developing the show on two different fronts, which poses new challenges.

    “A half-hour radio sitcom is essentially a plot with lots of jokes in and there’s only so much character development you can do,” he says.

    “In a play less happens than in a sitcom episode, but the characters go on a bigger emotional journey. You want the laughs but the audience also wants to think and be moved a bit.”

    Writing a stage play also appealed to Robins because it meant tackling weightier issues. Father and son relationships are at the show’s core. Henry has described his own father as being like a copy of the Daily Mirror with arms and legs, as he never put the newspaper down long enough to talk, and Robins describes having a difficult relationship with his own dad.

    “I think for both us it was something that we wanted to explore, and certainly in the play the difficult relationships between these three generations of men is crucial.”

    The plot also revolves around the demise of the high street, the record shop’s tussle with a developer mirroring the David v. Goliath struggles waged by small businesses against larger corporations.

    “I think that’s something that will ring true with a lot of people as well,” says Robins.

    Live music will feature throughout, with songs by Desmond Dekker, Jimmy Cliff and the Sugar Hill Gang amongst others interspersed with the action.

    “I went to see The Commitments the other day and just that impact of great songs that we know in a theatre space makes your hair stand on end and has you standing up and clapping by the end. If we can achieve anything like that I’ll be pleased.”

    Rudy’s Rare Records is at Hackney Empire, 291 Mare Street, E8 1EJ from 24 September – 5 October