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Culture

Folk Archive

A couple of days ago I went to see an exhibition called Folk Archive at the Barbican.

That website includes lots of the exhibits but the pictures are annoyingly without all the contextual information that helps make sense of them.

It was an exhibition of contemporary British folk art, but that term was interpreted extremely broadly; the exhibition includes (some of these are photos rather than the actual object): trade union banners, graffiti, prison art, modified cars, costumes from traditional festivals, prostitute calling cards, sectarian murals, shop signs, painted false nails, football fanzines, protest placards, crop circles, sand castles, flower arrangements…

The sheer range of objects makes it hard to know what to say. Many of them were complete tat – unremarkable examples of mundane objects – but seeing them all together one did get a sense of a huge wealth of amateur, unofficial creativity. I enjoyed it and found it curiously cheering.

Some mad video of people running through the streets of Ottery St Mary carrying burning tar barrels on their shoulders to celebrate Guy Fawkes Night. And the Burry Man of South Queensferry. And other oddities. It made the modified car rallies and the Mods and Rockers reunion look like part of a long tradition.

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Other

Ashes day 2

You know it must have been dire when 155 is a pleasing total. It’s a lot of fun watching KP smack the ball around; it’s even more fun watching Harmison and Jones do it.

Categories
Culture

irony vs. self-awareness

Jonathan, Laurel and Emily have commented on whether it’s possible to write (read) a poem without a layer of irony.

What I find odd is a tendency to conflate irony with self-awareness. Self-awareness may be a necessary condition for irony, but I can’t see that they are the same thing.

I’m English and middle class, so I live among people for whom, in everyday life, sincerity is often a faux pas. Irony is the default mode of conversation in social situations. But that doesn’t mean you can’t turn it off.

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finally the Ashes start

Or at least they do in 30 minutes – the toss is about to happen. I love this moment, when nothing has happened yet and everything is still possible.

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The Rik Files

Rik Roots now has a blog. Now the Poetry Blog is defunct, I really ought to move the blogroll – or possibly a more selective version of it – over here. I’m thinking of having a redesign anyway – this look is a touch too tasteful. So perhaps I can incorporate the blogroll on the front page.

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the Ashes get closer

No tournament in cricket or rugby is ever going to have the cachet of the (football) World Cup – the pool of teams is too small. Apparently, for the last World Cup, TV audiences in Thailand were bigger than the global TV audience for the last Rugby World Cup. On the other hand, having less teams is a hell of a way of building up rivalries. Especially since, if you’re English, the main nations that play rugby or cricket – Australia, New Zealand, India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, South Africa, West Indies, Wales, Scotland, Ireland and France – are all either ex-colonies or local rivals. Local rivals being a polite term for ‘ancient enemies’.