Today at 17:21. This kind of view always reminds me of the opening
line from The Hill of Dreams (1907) by Arthur Machen:
“There was a glow in the sky as if great furnace doors were opened.”
A journal by artist and designer John Coulthart.
Photography
Today at 17:21. This kind of view always reminds me of the opening
line from The Hill of Dreams (1907) by Arthur Machen:
“There was a glow in the sky as if great furnace doors were opened.”
Topple (2006).
Mate (2006).
American artist Thomas Allen constructs witty and clever dioramas using figures cut from the covers of old pulp paperbacks. Probably not the future James Avati and co. anticipated for their paintings but it certainly gives their art a new lease of life. Things have come full circle since Allen’s constructions have been used to decorate a series of James Ellroy reissues. Allen’s prints are currently on display at the Foley Gallery, New York, until March 3rd.
Elsewhere on { feuilleton }
• The book covers archive

Camp by James Bidgood or contemporary by David Belisle. And while we’re on the subject, let’s not forget Charlie Kaufman’s opening lines for Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind:
“Random thoughts for Valentine’s day, 2004. Today is a holiday invented by greeting card companies to make people feel like crap.”

The thundering virtuosity of Chris Corsano’s drums lured me out again this evening. The venue this time was the old Sacred Trinity Church in Salford which has been deconsecrated (heathens that we are) and turned into a space for music and other events. A very good space it was too, with subdued lighting and decent sound. Corsano was on magnificent form, playing another storming improvised set; Mick Flower of the Vibracathedral Orchestra provided chiming drones of unknown provenance. (I still haven’t worked out what peculiar string instrument it is that he plays.)
The photo above is another blurry product of my poor old Canon as it struggles with low light conditions and no tripod. But even in good light I’d challenge any photographer to adequately capture Corsano’s performance. The stuttering incoherence of this picture goes some way towards showing how it feels to watch him play.
Update: Gav advises that the church is still consecrated and that Mick Flower plays a shahi baaja or, as he prefers (after Klaus Dinger), a “Japan banjo”.
Previously on { feuilleton }
• Chris Corsano again
• Chris Corsano
Photography by Glen Mitchell.