Ways With Words

Smile, You're On The Ways With Words Programme

 When people pick up a Ways With Words programme I want them to see lots of smiling faces. I’d be more likely to go to a festival where everyone looked cheerful than one which seemed to be full of misery guts. It’s surprisingly difficult to find writers smiling, let alone laughing merrily. Perhaps they want to appear serious, thoughtful and concerned, or maybe life is tough for writers.

James Lovelock looks very cheerful, despite thinking we’ve left global warming too late. Maybe he is thinking I’m almost 90 – not my problem. 

Simon Majumdar looks in pain. Perhaps on his travels to sample food round the world he was offered snake’s kidneys – or something didn’t agree with him. 

Satish Kumar looks serene; one would expect that from an ex Buddhist monk. Serenity at a festival is desirable. 

Ben Crystal looks as if he is about to hug someone. Maybe he is embracing the world. No-one could object to being embraced by Ben Crystal or Shakespeare. 

Prue Leith and Julia Neuberger get joint prize for being the most cheerful. They are enjoying life – hoorah.     

But a lot of our speakers only manage a wan grin, sometimes this turns into a grimace. Gyles Brandreth and Paddy Ashdown should have huge grins that say, “Thank God I am not in the House of Commons at the moment.” Instead they look wistful.

On the same page I am drawn to the cheeky grins of the Wondermentalist women, Liv Torc and Beryl the Feral. They look very good fun.

Oh Arthur what’s wrong with you?  Comedians are supposed to see the funny side of life. Put away your grumpy old man face. I bet his show is full of ascerbic comments on what’s wrong with the world – or MPs.

Probably my favourite photo is of Lynn Barber smoking. Smoking! How politically incorrect can this festival get? This one deserves a prize in a special category because it made me laugh.

There are many serious moments at Ways With Words when big problems like greed, inequality, environmental issues are tackled but overall it is a joyful experience to come to Ways With Words – festive in fact.

To see the smiling and unsmiling faces [and Lynn Barber smoking] phone 01803 867373 for a paper programme or download the programme from the festival page on the website.

Away With Words

My professional life has been dominated by words. Not surprising when I spend my time running Ways With Words. I read around a hundred books a year for my work - which is not enough. There is no getting away from the fact that it is a word-dominated life and yet I would describe myself as a visual person. I get up early to watch mist rise over the fields; I am in ecstasy at a simple white cup on a wooden table; shades of green in May have me rushing for my paints. So when we go to France to run our Ways With Words course I shall choose to do painting rather than writing. Give me a sunny courtyard, and the quiet creativity of a group of writers and painters working under parasols, and I get out my brushes.

WHAT INSPIRES ME
Peeling paint on wooden boards, the stripes of fields of vines and olives, a red jug next to a white mug, three bluebells in a jar, a bowl of purple plums, a rusty corrugated iron roof– inspiration tends to come from unexpected sources. My paintings usually fall into two categories: those inspired by fields, fences, water, skies – the outdoors, and those that come from the kitchen – eggs, lemons, bottles, mugs.

There’s lots of kitchen stuff in France and fields and peeling paint too so no shortage of subjects for paintings. No excuse - so away with words and up with pastels, paints and paper. Of course with the Ways With Words Dartington festival starting on 10 July I shall be reading lots too. A pile of books will come with me:

• 'Solving The Arts Puzzle' by Richard Fox (Sat. 11 July at 5pm)
• 'A Single Swallow' by Horatio Clare (Tues. 14 July at 2pm)
• 'My Judy Garland Life' by Susie Boyt (Sun. 12 July at 10.45am) – re-reading this as I am chairing this event. Found it quirky, thoughtful, insightful – loved it.
• 'The Music Room' by William Fiennes (Sat. 11 July at 9.30am)
• 'How to Paint a Dead Man' by Sarah Hall (Sun 12 July 12 noon) - not connected with my painting but because she is an exciting young novelist.

Looks as if words will be battling with brushes for my time in France. Ways With Words writing and art workshops run from 2-9 June in the Dordogne area of France.
More details are on our website or phone 01803 867373.

From the Big Apple to Droridge Apple Trees

Instead of shopping at Zabars it’s Riverford Farm foodshop, instead of the Gourmet Garage it’s Dartington Garage. Our Broadway is Totnes High Street. The Tribeca Film festival has been replaced with the Barn Cinema. Dartington Gardens is our Central Park. The BBC is our CNN, The Guardian our New York Times. We keep kicking each other in our standard double bed after the giant conjugal bed we had in New York. I haven’t seen anyone jogging since we returned. How diverse lives are.

I didn’t have the necessary leads to put photos on the blog while I was in New York so here are some now to transport you across the Atlantic.

Metropolitan Museum of Art - Rooftop Terrace - Roxy Paine's sculpture 'Maelstrom'

The Brooklyn Bridge - on our way to BAM

Chuck Close (and attendant angels) - Meatpacking District

Shop window on Mott Street

SoHo lofts

Christopher Park - West Village

Our book-lined pied à terre - Upper West Side

More Gawking in New York

USES OF (AMERICAN) ENGLISH
• There is an Open Homes and Gardens w/e coming up which sadly we are missing. The headline in the paper was, “Homes and Gardens, Open For Gawking”. That’s me sussed.
• Yesterday we were offered a bowl of ‘heirloom tomato soup’.
• Overheard, father to little child, “No, you had white flour for breakfast; you can’t have any more.”

AND GAWKING IN GALLERIES
We discovered that the galleries that line the 20+ W. streets in Chelsea are open for Private Views on Thursday nights, often with the artists present and usually with wine and partying a go-go. Never ones to miss a party we arrived late afternoon as we wanted first to see the Sophie Calle exhibition. Men beware! If you want to dump your conceptual artist lover be very, very careful. Calle’s ex lover sent her an email explaining that he didn’t want to see her any more and ended, Take care of yourself. Cue for an exhibition. Hell hath no fury like an artist scorned. She sent the email to 107 women (amongst them an anthropologist, psychologist, dancer, criminologist, teenager, clairvoyant) for their reactions. Their responses were displayed in films, photographs and textual analysis. This exhibition warranted much time and attention. I needed and wanted to spend hours there. The woman who danced her response made me laugh; also the one who said that he was obviously a man who would prefer jazz to rock. A translator discussed each phrase used in the email. “Take care of yourself” – big mistake.
It was a witty, moving, intriguing exhibition. I bet the ex-lover wished he’d phoned her instead of emailing.

People were gathering in the other galleries so we followed them. The dilemma was whether to watch the visitors or the art – the arty, party folk won in several exhibitions. The huge industrial gallery spaces were also visually compelling. In one gallery we were drawn by all three. Chuck Close, the artist was seated in his wheelchair high above the crowds. A host of angels/beautiful women were encircling him. He was obviously revered but I’m ashamed to say we didn’t know of him though I recognised his big portraits – one of Clinton. Later Alastair Sooke told me that he’d interviewed him for the Telegraph so I read his interview on line.

We queued for ages at Spice Market for dinner afterwards. Food and gawking value worth the wait.