Engineer's Daughter

donald maclellan's portraits of black actors

Last year London's National Portrait Gallery held an exhibition called Want to See More of Me? featuring photographer Donald MacLellan's gorgeous portraits of both established and up-and-coming British black actors, and the show is currently touring the UK.  Gabriel Gbadamosi, however, sees the images not so much as the celebration of diversity they are intended to be but as a throwback to ye olde "tits-and-teeth" approach to head shots:

Want to See More of Me? – the titillating title for an exhibition of photographs of black British actors – is a reminder of that very vulgarity lurking in showbiz. This series of portraits, which has exhibited at the National Portrait Gallery and is now touring the country, is supposed to portray the country's leading acting talent from Britain's black population. But its very title strips its subjects of dignity as they wait, wanting to be recognised. The old bittersweet collision of race and sex is used to play up the appeal of the exhibition. In my opinion it vaguely alludes to the size of his member and the curve of her bottom. It's a cheap shot.

Fortunately Femi Fola has a strong rebuttal to Gbadamosi's argument, and personally I think the pictures are a breath of fresh air in an age when Vanity Fair still puts actors of color behind the fold on their Hollywood covers and Italian Vogue has to stage an all-black issue just to call attention to the fact that black models get a fraction of available contracts.  Besides, I never mind seeing images of the marvelous Chiwetel Ejiofor and Sophie Okonedo.  Judge for yourself in the gallery here.

artists share their secret santas

I'm pretty cranky today, what with the whole having to be at work combined with general holiday malaise.  So my cold-hearted self is taking much pleasure in the off-kilter reinterpretations of Santa that a group of artists, musicians and comedians recently created at the Guardian's request and that have been posted in a gallery here.  Laura Barnett talked to the participants about their takes, including Gillian Wearing (pictured right):

When I was asked to make a Santa, I immediately thought of Andrew Mondia, the Santa who was sacked in November from Selfridges [for asking a woman to sit on his lap]. These kind of stories immediately bring a cartoon vision of events to mind. I wanted to create a seaside-type postcard image to illustrate the demise of Santa - Andrew being strangled by [model] Alena's tinsel. As we are in the throes of what could be one of the worst financial moments in history, I also think this image is the perfect credit-crunch Santa. I'm sure a lot of people would be wanting to hold on to that tinsel.

I think my favorite might be Isy Suttie's hilarious ham Santa, with the comedian looking like she's about to take a big ol' bite out of him.  The paper has also created a Flickr pool where I highly recommend posting your Santarchy pics, especially because it's looking a little sparse in there right now.  Merry Christmas, y'all!

dada award winners

The International Day of Disabled Persons took place earlier this month on December 3, and not coincidentally it was also the day England's North West Disability Arts Forum held their sixth annual DaDa Awards ceremony in Liverpool, hosted by Mat Fraser (pictured right).  The Awards honor deaf and disabled artists, writers and musicians, and recipients this year included the amazing Claire Cunningham for the performance arts award and musician Leigh Stirling for lifetime achievement.  For a gallery of the honorees, please click here.

dadafest

For a strong dose of inspiration tonight I'm looking through photos of performers in the recent DaDaFest which took place in Liverpool earlier this month.  DaDa in this case stands for Disability and Deaf Arts and featured everything from burlesque to art exhibits to crutch-based aerial dance from Claire Cunningham, pictured right.  I love the description of Aaron Williamson's performance piece in which he set up barriers that gave disabled people direct access to a festival venue but sent able-bodied attendees the long way 'round.  DaDaFest proves that the term "differently abled" goes far beyond mere political correctness.

attack of the scouse spider

I should be composing public service announcements and/or packing right at this very moment, but instead I'm writing about a giant mechanical spider named La Princesse that appeared in Liverpool earlier this month as part of the programs for the city's year as European Capital of Culture.  Manufactured by François Delarozière and the mad French geniuses at La Machine, La Princesse thoroughly enchanted Lyn Gardner during the creature's short weekend in town:

The charity Anxiety UK, representing arachnophobics, expressed concerns about the wisdom of exposing the people of Liverpool to such a terrifying spectacle, and some others got shirty about the cost, but what is impossible to measure is the contribution to the national index of happiness created by this giddy piece of free street theatre, which for many Liverpudlians will be their only exposure to the Capital of Culture programme.

I adore the idea of the huge arachnid interacting with Liverpool's architecture and inviting residents to imagine their city in a new way.  And of course I'm dying to know how Delarozière made it work:

This is his first spider, and its appearance is part of the city's capital of culture celebrations. Even on this dreary, rain-soaked Friday evening, many more will have seen the spider than the nearby Playhouse will be able to accommodate for the entire run of Pete Postlewaite's upcoming King Lear. La Princesse is a big girl, weighing 37 tonnes, and a marvel of engineering. She has 50 hydraulic axes of movement, took a year to build, and trundles along the road at two miles an hour.

It seriously sounds like Survival Research Labs crossed with Jules Verne.  Phil Hogan went to La Machine's workshop in Nantes, France, to get a preview of La Princesse before she was unveiled to Liverpool:

I go and watch the spider from a distance, the better to marvel at its finely graded movements - the product of Delarozière's forensic study of the way spiders express themselves, translated into God knows how many permutations of hand-worked hydraulics. Through half-closed eyes the spider seems besieged by little people. If this were a movie, they'd be trying to subdue it with pitchforks.

Liverpool still has a number of Capital of Culture events on the horizon before 2008 is up, including the aforementioned production of King Lear as well as an exhibition of work by Chinese art and architecture superstar Ai Weiwei, and you can find full coverage here.  They're going to have a hard time beating the spider though.

clowning around

I have never been a fan of circuses, especially ones that use (and sometimes badly mistreat) animals.  However, one of my favorite books of all time, Amanda Davis's Wonder When You'll Miss Me, is a novel about a young woman who literally runs away to the circus, and the picture that Davis paints of life with the itinerant performers matches in my head what I see in the gorgeous images in Taschen's massive new book The Circus, 1870-1950.  There are glamorous, strong women and acts of bravery, but above all the performers seem to exhibit a sense of real belonging to their very unusual family.  Nell Gifford, owner of the Gloucestershire Giffords Circus, weighs in with her perspective:

The people in these photographs have rough hands and swollen ankles, but they squint into the sun and show us their trained snake, their hand-stitched costumes, their acrobatics which are not fearless but fear overcome by skill - with a pure, golden glamour.

I have to admit I can see the attraction.  No trained snakes for me though, on account of my severe phobia.