Bank Holidays - the Easter one in particular - should be a time for reflection. The endless UK winter suddenly seems to have given way to nights that stretch past eight o'clock, and with the usual "delays for rain", even some sunny days.
I finished work a day and a half early - time owed from end of March - though fitting holiday time in at the moment has been a challenge. Twas ever thus.
On Wednesday I'd planned to go to see some countryside - perhaps heading to Todmorden or Hebden Bridge but it was the kind of endless rain thats fine weather only for the ducks. Instead I headed down to Macclesfield, which, despite passing through on hundreds of occasions, I'd never been to. I didn't get to do any sort of Ian Curtis pilgrimage (that rain again), but had a wander round the small market town, and found an excellent second hand record shop, as well as the usual charity shop trawl which came up with at least one gem. a UK first edition Tom Wolfe. I was a big fan of "The New Journalism" back in the day, finding the hyperbolic prose and the counter-culture subject matter equally enthralling.
Coming back into Manchester there was a launch for the new edition of "The Modernist" magazine - this time to coincide with the exhibition at Manchester Central Library of GALT TOYS. I'm not sure I ever had any Galt toys, though there was a vague familiarity about the designs. Maybe I was just a little too young, or more likely, Galt toys were a bit outside of our price bracket.
On Thursday I had agreed to help out the Manchester music archive with some testing of a redesign of their website which will be launched in June alongside their next real world exhibition. I've been involved with the archive since it began and it remains - like the Modernist Society - one of those Manchester-evolved gems that has come from genuine need and genuine passion.
The city's buildings-led arts regeneration would be just a series of empty boxes without these voluntary led initiatives. Rushing straight from that HOME, the point was brought home, in that they're increasingly putting on side-events and providing local showcases, alongside the main theatre, art and cinema offering. A large marquee outside has been programming bands, musicians and DJs, to coincide - however tangentionally - with the Viva! Spanish film festival and the new art show, La Movida. On all weekend if you're looking for something to do. I didn't get much of a chance to look in detail at the show - the usual preview curse - but pleased to see there's a new commissioned film about Savoy Books by my friend Clara, as well as appropriate archive work from Derek Jarman and Linder amongst others. There's a lovely irony that the Lord Mayor of Manchester was there at the opening of a show which is merciless in its criticism of "God's Cop", James Anderton. It struck me that the "culture wars" of the seventies and eighties have been replaced with something different - about money, austerity, globalisation - and the sexual politics inherent in a show like this (echoing the Spanish post-Franco "La Movida" movement) might appear to be a mere historical moment - (and then you read about concentration camps for gay people in Chechen, Russia's assault on minorities, the repression of much of the Islamic world of LGBTQ, religious and female freedoms...and think, maybe not.).Outside of HOME, the marquee provided a warm place on a cold evening, and was thrilled to see a full set by the wonderful Ill, who have turned into a powerhouse since I last caught them a few years back at a poetry event. Brilliant stuff.
Running from one thing to another...not having any food...half-arrangements with friends, and then bumping into other friends...trying to catch sight of everything...I got home drunk and exhausted. I realised as I woke up on Good Friday that I needed "less" not "more". The tendency to try and fit everything in to a few days off (I've a week's leave now) means that I'm currently having a period of over-stimulation, where I don't get a chance to process half of the things I've done. There are good reasons for this...the house I was buying before Christmas fell through and I've not had the energies to repeat the process yet; work has been a bit relentless, and understaffed; I've had a number of creative projects on hold or which I'm only slowly getting through; I turned fifty; I was ill in early March, and didn't give myself time to recover....
So I'm guessing I need less... less stress obviously, but less stimulation, less consumption, less trying to fit everything in. I've often wondered how some writers I know manage to go to endless spoken word nights, for instance - there's one in Manchester most nights of the week - then there's theatre, art, music, dance, sport, restaurants etc. etc. Rarely have I needed a week's break so much. But with so much to do in that week - I perhaps need to just let it go a little. A friend said only do what is "useful or beautiful" which I think is a good mantra, but as the above list shows, doesn't narrow it down too much! Tonight there's an electronic music open mic at Fuel in Withington, which could well be both. There's a reading from their new show-accompanying book at HOME, which might also tick both boxes. And we're just entering "peak period" for activity...with Record Store Day, Sounds from the Other City and Manchester International Festival on the horizon.
And of course, my version of "less", might be still "more" - as yesterday I finally watched the brilliant Coppola movie "The Conversation" (how did I ever miss this?) featuring a superb Gene Hackman performance; and wrote a 1500 word essay for a new website that should go live soon. Less....is always relative. But I think its more about curating ones time so that there's not just time to experience, but time to reflect, and time, on a Bank Holiday weekend, to do nothing...or at least an approximation of nothing.
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