So far, so good

I told R to meet me at 8pm sharp at the given address last night near Hampstead. 'It is not a venue' I warned him. I did not really want to reveal much of what was going to happen so far away from home. Since I moved to Brixton, to the South, it feels like an adventure to actually travel for something further than Regent's Park , but I knew this occasion was worth the trip.

The details about the whole event were really vague, which made it even more mysterious and magical. Again, as usual, I got to know about the date on Twitter, whilst following one of the participating bands, so I blindly investigated further about how to assist.

I was running a bit late, so my last text read something like: 'Please, get some drinks and meet me at the address if you get bored. It is Joe's house and organised by Meike. Not my friends', which probably made R more disconcerted. But I finally arrived before the 8pm time stated on the last info email, received the day before with some little instructions, and what is more important: the address. We walked through the hilly and leafy streets of Hampstead Heath station surroundings until we reached the address.

It literally felt just like a friend's house you are invited to, except from (I presume) Meike at the door with a clipboard with the guest list, but yeah, we all brought our own (booze, no food allowed, although I witnessed a quite sofisticated Pimm's on the spot with pre-cut fruit in fancy plastic cups) and us, the guests, we found our way through the door and towards the garden, leaving the stage, the living room to the left, accommodate ourselves in the backyard while the event was being prepared. It really felt like a friend's party, one of those you assist as a plus one and you don't know anybody, but you can tell that everybody was in a good mood and quite expectant of what they, us, were going to experience.

The house was lovely and so were the owners, mingling around to make sure everybody was feeling comfortable and enjoying. The fact that the garden faced the Heath and the two cats were wandering around jumping the fences made you think that you were not in London, but more in a country house somewhere far away from the big smoke. The impressive thing is that in spite of being a stranger's house full of random people, everybody was civilised and respectful with the house, for a change, which felt admirable.

I cannot remember the name of the Master of Ceremonies. I just remember that he wore glasses, a hat and that he was the perfect person to run the night and present the acts. He gave us a shout to finally congregate in the living room, either inside in the rug or outside near the conservatory al fresco. He explained what this was: A SoFar Sounds(@Sofarsounds) evening. and he, very enthusiastically explained how it worked, the beauty about its intimate character, and finally, he introduced the first act.

First act: Jono McCleery (@JonoMcCleery), song writer playing acoustic guitar accompanied by 2 other guys guys, helping him with the percussion,  a laptop/synth and acoustic bass. Beautiful voice and the perfect start for the evening.

The second one was the most unexpected one: The Boxettes (@theBoxettes) was a group of 5 girls that didn't require any sound check or gear van because their only instruments were their voices. Their only aid was an old school diapason, so Beat-boxing and harmonising, they managed to sing 3 brilliant R&B songs sounding as complex and full as playing Justin Timberlake (ok, maybe this is not the best example) at full blast on your stereo. It was just impressive to listen to all those sounds coming from their voices. They were having a great time and so were we.

After a short break to rearrange the instruments for a final act, we took the opportunity to actually get ourselves inside, as the sun had disappeared and the living room had a few spare gaps left to sit. Again, just like your mate's party, sitting in the rug just felt comfortable, cosy and intimate, perfect for the third act.

Poet Matthew Cuban (@MatthewCuban), an artist from Jacksonville, Florida, master of the spoken word and apparently usual act of the SoFar acts all around the globe: from Tasmania to London and currently residing in Leeds. I was not expecting a poetry act, but Matthew was just impressive. A very cheerful guy, incredibly expressive and engaging and really powerful message. Truly enjoyable.

Finally the fourth act was the reason for me to apply to this specific session: Shields (@BehindShields), a 5-member electro-pop band from Newcastle, which I had seen live before at the Shackewell Arms this last winter and did not disappoint at all. Band who supported Everything Everything in Cambridge the previous night and still, they were quite overwhelmed by the talent of the previous acts of the night. This time, with a stage smaller than the narrow Shacklewell Arms, they still managed to get a drum, three acoustic guitars, a bass, a keyboard and their fantastic colour light props. I was looking forward to see them unplugged, without amps, and obviously, they didn't disappoint. 4 tracks in total, including their famous (and brilliant) Mezzanine, a new piece from their new album (work in progress at the moment), well supported by 'uuuuuhs' from the crowd and the night ended with Silhouette and endless clapping (I was really looking forward to their cover of SBTRKT's Pharaohs, but didn't happen). And speaking of crowds, these northern guys are famous for sharing their drinks during their performances but in this occasion, a member of the crowd (@ImoWatson512) gifted them with 'Special Brew'.

At that was it, 10:30pm and time to wrap up. It kind of left us wanting more but better keep it as it is, as it was: 4 incredibly talented acts playing low-key in somebody's living room. All around the world. That is SoFar.

And I think it is a brilliant idea.

I wish I had a bigger living room, but that's another story.

Pillow Fight Day

I am back. We are all back. We have been hibernating from October. We have survived 6 months of freezing cold. I have lost the count of days of full snow, blizzards, painful rain, and donkey belly coloured skies. I had to tape our old sash windows with brown tape to avoid the draft while contemplating a mushroom grow on the outside frame.

Just like somebody could predict the future, some guys decided to organise a stress reliever event the first day of the real Spring in London. On the 7th of April, we saw the first real sun filled day of 2013, and stayed until the the sundown.

The lions of the square kept their cool, impassible of what was happening.The International Pillow Fight Day in Trafalgar Square was the perfect excuse to venture to the city centre, forget about the tourist and be surrounded by breath-compromising and non-painful war; with pillows.

 

 

Definitely not suitable for asthma or allergies sufferers, but highly stimulating for laughter and carefree sensations: London was smiling again.

And London will keep smiling, but that will be another story.

 

Crossness Engine House

At the time I started preparing this post, I was borderline crying, hugged by my housemates, lacking of tea bags, and yeah, essentially moaning together after being in the cold windy rain all afternoon. Because in spite of being sunny and warm enough to be having pint in a terrace down in Kennington the day before, Sunday was miserable. We all were feeling like soaked sewer rats.

It all started when I wanted to make the best out of the last day of the Open House weekend, as I had ignored despite of all that I had planned in advance. I filled myself with braveness, and well suggested by my housemate, I added an extra layer of clothes for a foreseeable chillier day.

I travelled down south to London Bridge, where I catch a train to the unknown. I passed landmarks from different angles; angles that I couldn't recognise. Greenwich from the back door, the O2 Arena hidden behind residential areas and Woolwich Arsenal. But I kept travelling until I arrived at Abbey Wood. 14.9 miles away from my comfort zone, but still, that didn't put me off.

Right at the entrance of the station, covering from the already painful wind and rain, there was already a queue of around 20 people waited to be carried to our destination. The promised minibus arrived and got filled instantaneously, leaving me the first in the line awaiting for the bus to come and go for the next batch. -- Oh god, i thought. But just in time, just like an American movie hero, an old lady, wiser of the minibus driver showed up announcing that she would be carrying four more persons in her own private car. So I didn't haw to wait.

The 10 minutes ride from the station to the site where used to figure out that the closes bus stop near the site was unwalkable distance, and even more with the horrible weather, that there was a travellers site nearby and a bit more of fun facts about the surroundings and the place itself.

But we finally arrived, and run hopelessly to the entrance of the building to cover from the rain and gain some warmth. And there is was, the main hall of the Crossness Engines House. It opened as one of the few occasions during the year as part of the Open House London 2012 and I knew I wanted to containing a dozen of historic local and period memorabilia for those collectables fans.

And a main queue; because in all remarkable (or not necessarily) event, there is a queue to go through. However, in this occasion, it didn't last more than 10 minutes; just the necessary time for the great volunteers to process the used hard hats and give them a quick wipe for the rest.

And the rest is history indeed...

The first thing that we all came across is the STUNNING balustrade of cast iron remarkably decorated in primary colours. And the first thing that comes to your mind is how amazing is putting together such a beautiful peace of architecture with its purpose and function of pumping out the sewage from the City back in Victorian times. Just like a circular terrace overlooking at the internal patio of a house. Really really beautiful.

MBW: London's Metropolitan Board of Works.

Crossness was engineered by Joseph Bazalgette, and himself was the chief engineer of the MBW. The engines house itself was part of a big and terribly important engineering solution for the Great Stink during the summer of 1858, helping to relieve London from cholera epidemics by creating a sewer network (and also helping to clean the Thames at that time, that as we can all imagine and its documented, it was pretty gross).

It is a fact that the history of the British Empire during the reign of Queen Victoria is not part of my direct history knowledge but landmarks like this make me learn quite fast and interestingly. It makes you imagine about the greatness and the power of the Empire, the wealth, the engineering, and all and all, the incredible attention to detail of such a mundane and avoided thing as sewage management.

And the you bump into those massive pumps and pistons, now restored and fully functioning on the left hand side, and the original and rusty on the right. Mastodontic structures of tones of weight of steel, moving seamlessly up and down, and you are able to picture how the whole thing works.

From the main 'square', as I called it, to the right, there was an almost empty room. To the left, the gigantic pistons. Right underneath, a beautiful non-painted cast iron staircase led to the insides of the pump, where it could be serviced. All housed in a room that could easily part of a bunker or a secret cave. Again, the signs of more than 50 years of neglect and be clearly seen on the right hand side.

Pipes, structures... all so big that makes you feel like an insignificant bedbug. How the hell did the mange to get all that in there?

The views from the upper deck were also impressive. For some weird reason, the beautiful shell-shaped grid, gave me vertigo. Probably the wholes were too coarse.

Oh, and I managed to hit my head while walking down the stairs. So turns out the hard hat is useful after all.

And the day turned out to be like the typical grim and sad day in winter. Unexpected temperatures below 15, cold wind and incessant rain. The windows were steamed up and don't allow us to see very far. The clouds just above ground level, just like thick Victorian smog caused by the sleepless exhaust from the factories revolutioning the period. But no, it is 2012 and I can distinguish a parking lot and more visitors approaching. Back to reality. But for enhanced experience, it could have been fun to experience a watered down version of the great stink. Just for a few seconds.

Somebody said tools? Those were pretty big...

We don't have such details these days. Who would take the time to paint the inside of the floor grid in red so carefully? None. That's why everything is so boring nowadays.

Worth the pneumonia? Definitely, but next time, I will go by car or in a sunny day. I was tempted to Hugh strangers just to gain some warmth as we were waiting for the minibus to return. Again, main door wide open, letting the wind and the rain come inside uninvited while we were queueing at the door. Certainly not the best conditions for most of the 70+ years old visitors around. Such a shame that I didn't have the strength to actually wander around outside and take pictures of the building itself and the ducts around... Too cold, seriously.

But yes, good decision, and I am glad I managed to have a little chat with a couple of the 60+ visitors, well aware of these sorts of gems around London and their induction about the Cornish pioneer steel.

I'm a geek. But that's another story.

 

Posted with Blogsy