Yesterday started badly and ended mediocrely. The middle went well. I was full of excitement because my Helium arrived early transported in an unmarked silver van by a man who would not have looked out of place in GBH (the Twemlow straight to video spectacular). It was not long before I had a camera floating on a large balloon and was making plans to allow it to float gently around the mill. I set it on the spiral staircase and turned back to check reception. All was well it had accosted a young lady on the next floor and was drifting slowly downwards.
Then without warning the balloon gathered speed. Twisting violently in the grips of an unseen force it headed towards the light and the signal was lost. Dropping the receiver I ran down the stairs but it was gone floating across Salford. I gathered Mr Bracey, Mr Griffiths (returned from a yurt in wales) and Miss Dover for a search. But the only evidence we could find was the following image posted later on Twitter.
Later filming went better. Though more than once I had to dive to stop my backup camera following its predecessor.
The day ended with a little light entertainment at The Cornerhouse. Miss Dover and I managed to acquire complementary tickets for Gainsbourg mainly by mentioning names at random until the vendor recognised one and was hypnotised into handing them over. Giant puppets apart, it was a drab monotonous film in which the protagonist certainly had a lot more fun than the audience.
Miss Dover and I decided to take a day away from the Mill today and visit my parents who live nearby. My washing had reached critical state and we were looking forward to a belated Sunday lunch promised on our last meeting. Film production has ground to a halt as I am awaiting for a delivery of helium gas and potassium ferricyanide. It should arrive tomorrow. We had an enormous roast lunch and a good deal of white wine and gin and tonic. There must be a study somewhere on increased alcohol consumption in artists in residence. It seems to be on a par with UN operatives in war zones. After lunch we returned to the Cornerhouse for a meeting with Dr Andrew Willis Reader in Film Studies at the University of Salford, expert in the films of Cliff Twemlow, and Sarah Perks who will be leading the ‘In Conversation’ on Thursday. I managed to escape with only one beer drunk as I thought I might need my wits about me later. I had promised to help Mr Moisander extract HD video files from my camera, not a simple task.
Naked Woman in Shower
Spent the morning strangling Mr Moisander with a long blue rope. Mr Bracey and Miss Dover took pictures. Mr Moisander survived and dashed off to the attic wearing a long black wig. http://www.juhanamoisander.com/
We are over half way now. Staying at Islington Mill has been a pleasant experience made perfect by Bill and Morry’s easygoing hospitality. Most enjoyable (and terrifying) has been the cinematic showerroom/toilet in my room which has forced Miss Dover or I to hide screaming under the covers whilst the other answers a call of nature. On the other hand the shower does offer a bedside show worthy of any Bond film. I have placed an image of the naked Miss Dover on my blog in a blatant attempt to improve internet traffic. I did this in a flurry of activity this morning after filling in a questionnaire about my use of the internet for Miss Towler (an inspirational name?) who is writing an article for Axis.
Still unable to update posts regularly enough. I have placed a few snapshots below. I am frustrated with my lack of dedication and/ability to concentrate on multiple activities.
I am waiting for a visit from Mr Bracey. He has sent a message explaining that even though he is a little worse for wear he is nevertheless keen to see what I have been doing. Last night we had a meeting with artists which proceeded in the usual fashion for such events. Mark from Bureau was much taken with Miss Dover and has invited her to his studio (I shall tag along). Tonight I have been asked to present a film to a group of fellow artists at the Mill. I have decided upon Lelouche’s “Pour Un Maillot Jaune” and a tourist video of the Blackpool Illuminations opened by Chris DeBurgh.
At the screening I chose to show. Lelouche’s “Pour un Maillot Jaune”, 1965 and a souvenir video of the Blackpool illuminations circa 1989. After my very nervous and hurried introduction all went smoothly. Although as expected the illuminations video had an interesting effect on the audience. At first there was hysterical laughter at Chris DeBurgh’s desperately fading powers. Then more laughter at the crazy lights presenting Coronation Street stars and pepsi cans. Then came exhaustion and despair as the lights went on and on unrelenting into the night. The filmmakers themselves obviously didn’t know when to stop and so, quite arbitrarily, they decided to wait til morning and film a ride on the big dipper.
Plans for today.
1. Use this blog to write more reports
2. Order helium. Following the debacle yesterday I need more gas.
3. Build a light aeroplane and attempt to fly it on some nearby wasteland.
4. Set up surveillance on front door.
5. Take my washing to mum’s
I have made thirteen films so far with just over a week to go. “Pearlville” is in full swing. But looking back in my notebook I realise I have failed to make nearly anything I planned. In something of a state Miss Dover has dragged me away from the Mill. She is hoping I will be able to relax.
A clip from my third film at Islington Mill
